Dance, Dance Little Sister Dance.

When SSRI's fail, the health club scene tastes like the crust from the bread nobody wants to eat- and your creative mojo has left you what's a girl to do?

To continue feeling like ABC gum isn't a choice anymore.
A saucy dance class straight outta MTV is just what the doctor ordered. Never was a big fan of that train wreak of a pop tart Brittany Spears but what the hey....I can't keep from doing a mental dance rehearsal to her catchy little bubblegum sound so something clicked for me after this recent class I attended. After way too many years of not working "it" an epiphany of sorts made the decision for me. Embrace what moves you and consider it a cosmic kiss of colossal conscience for being lucky enough to think a little less linear and have a creative outlet where and when you can. A feel good for those of us seeking the fortune cookie answer sans the calories.

What's not to love when we girls can embrace all things flirty and feminine in a non judgemental arena... It's the endorphin rush that you crave with flattering lighting.
Catnip? No.. a local studio listed on my can't get enough side bar to the right.
The age demographic is all over the board (hooray) plus social variety a refreshing combination. Add in a flexible schedule, mix with equal parts opportunity and ingenuity voila it's the perfect cocktail... Can't forget to mention the ability to "drop" into classes on a whim to supplement my new habit. If everyone and her sister knows just how funky-fun- fabulous these classes are, well yours truly will be a bit bent outta shape if she can't score a spot in a class but this was too good not to share.

See ya 'round ladies...If your typical hang is court side, you don't know what you're missing. But as my friend Kyle likes to point out, the chickens all congregate in the same area. Why the veiled euphemism? I bet they don't dance to Womanizer by pop tart Brittney Spears. Meow.