Tralalala...dancing...

Okay, because I'm graduating, we have to learn...

Ballroom dancing!

We don't have a great fancy ball at a great fancy hall and everyone wears a great fancy dress with a great fancy (deadly) corset and laugh at the boys wearing tuxedos.

No, we have a dinner dance, which is where we all dance and have supper in the local hall.

So yeah, not so grand. But it sounds pretty fun.

I've already bought my dress - well, it's a hand-me-down from my sister, who is pretty drop-dead gorgeous and has lots of drop-dead-gorgeous clothes, so the dress is pretty something. It's red, with a gold and red-rhinstone neckpiece that goes around my neck, and it slinks down my body, accenting all my good features and hiding all the bad parts. I've paired it with copper-and-cork wedge heels and I'm planning to borrow a curler or find some way to curl my hair, so I'm going to look as hot as a plain girl can get.

That's the fun part. The not-so-fun part is the dancing.

Okay, I'll admit it, ballroom dancing is very fun. But it's awkward, which kills some of the fun. I mean, I have lots of guyfriends (guyfriends not boyfriends - there is a difference) and I laugh and chat and hang out with them just like I do with my girlfriends. But to have them, like, uber-close, holding one of their hands and having the other far too close to your butt than is naturally comfortable is a little...

strange.

So far we've learned a barndance and half of a salsa, both of which are pretty straightforward except for a 'whirlie' (where both partners do a three-sixty and become far too close for comfort in the process) and a 'spinner' (where the girl spins whilst the guy attempts to continue dancing).

Most guys are okay at dancing - apart from the obvious reluctance that is a defining characteristic of the Y-chromosone. The tall guys that you get along with okay or sort-of okay are the best guys to dance with. You're not taller than them (in fact, the best height to be is about a foot or at least a good three inches taller than the girl), you don't feel opposed to dancing as shoving bamboo splinters under your nails and you generally have a lot of fun. The guys that you hate (there is one guy in my class who I never get along with and never will) are the worst to dance with - you kind of have this permanent frown on your face and you have to resist the urge to fold your arms stubbornly or better still, slap the stupid bloke. And this one guy happens to be roughly the same size and shape of a beanbag, with flesh the same consistancy of a jellyfish, so it isn't the most pleasant experience, dancing with him, no.

And this is just dancing with the boys in our class. Imagine what it will be like dancing, in full makeup and dress and heels, with the rest of the grade.

Ew.

The thin, weedy, short guys are a little harder to dance with than the first category of boys mentioned. It's very hard to spin unless you crouch down, or, if your partner is particularly light, lift them off the ground, and you generally have to lead, which is slightly weird as all of our dances are designed so that the guy is leading. Some of the weedy boys haven't got a clue what you're doing, which is sometimes not a problem as you're leading anyway, but if you don't know what you're doing than the both of you are deep-fried. Some of the weedy guys happen to be my friends, and most of my friends are smart, so they're not so bad to dance with, apart from the obvious size-and-height ratio.

The absolute worst partner is this guy who dances as if you're going to run off on him at any minute, which is what most of the girls felt like doing after a while (we change partners every five seconds or so, so after about three seconds you start considering pulling a Houdini). He grabs your hand so tight that the tips go white and the knuckles go red, and pushes you so close, so when you do a whirlie you're practically kissing his shoulder (and making out with a guy's is really bad while you're dancing). But the worst moment is when you get to the spins - the guy is supposed to gently nudge the girl to get her spinning, not the huge slap you get from this macho-dancer. It sends you flying into the guy three partners down, which disrupts the whole dance.

So we have our four types of boys: the ones worth dancing with, the guy-that-I-can't-name-that-I-hate, the weedy boys and the violent dancer.

Dancing is so fascinating...