I’ve developed a horrible habit in recent times. Mealtimes are incomplete without a 20 minute segment of mindless entertainment. And in the absence of a television in the home, I turn to downloaded shows, youtube videos, and my rather large collection of cooking shows. It doesn’t have to be something coherent. I usually don’t even need to watch it from start to finish. I just find the first thing that looks interesting and play it for the entire time that I am eating. Sometimes it is a 20 minute section of a movie. I don’t need to know what happens next. I watch it, shut it off when the meal is done and go back to work.
The good thing about sitcoms is they are easy on time. These days anything more than 30 minutes spent watching TV feels like as waste, like a burden. Last week, I randomly picked an episode of Girls and the show is neatly slotted into 20-minute segments. The episode I picked ended like this:
And it made me smile.
Four reasons why.
1) That’s one of my most favourite groovy songs.
2) I’m kind of like Hannah. A song pops up somewhere, I like the sound of it, I break into a random jig at home. Mid-chore. Mid-essay. Mid-shower. Wherever I may be.
3) I’m not the smoothest and classiest dancer around. Least of all when I’m in my own home and nobody is watching. I’m stalky and awkward, my moves are bulky and rough around the edges. Like Hanna’s. But I don’t care.
4) I also have a co-habitor who sometimes walks in on me and laughs. Not at me, but with me.
Like he did on Sunday, when I had a bit of a solo gig going on in the living room. On a post-cleaning-frenzy endorphin rush, I turned on some obscene music. Including tracks like this, this and OMG-I-can’t-believe-I’m-admitting-this-here this and rushed through the entire Zumba sequence. Only to realise ten minutes later that the husband was watching, laughing and attempting to catch it on video.
Yep, this dancing at home for no apparent reason has gotten a little out of control. The Zumba lessons have unlocked some sort of crazy dancing person in me. I don’t need company. I just need a pump-it-up kind of song, and I’m good to go. The wonderful thing about Zumba is its forced me to listen to music that I am otherwise very snooty about. I refused to pay attention to the likes of Pitbull and Will.i.am, Daddy Yankee (say WHAA?) and J.Lo until I was forced to, 8 weeks ago. I’m now a convert. Returning from class and unabashedly googling unimaginative lyrics like “I’m into you, I’m into you, I’m into you” in the hope of finding the song that caught my fancy.
And then I dance.
Here’s some of my new-old discoveries.
But of course I have to balance it out with the fun stuff. Some classics, guaranteed to make me get up and move.
Dance like nobody’s watching, they said. And so I do.
I keep dancing on my own.