November 10, 2014
I’m writing NaNoWriMo with arms that are a little sore today. That’s because I took a pole dancing class on Sunday and boy, does that work your upper body.
My friend and Hot Tub Reader Dia arranged a private pole dancing class for six of us. I hadn’t taken a dance class in way too long so I said sure. Gave me a chance to wear those cute dotted tights I bought on clearance at Target last year and then never opened.
I psyched myself up by watching the finals competition scene at the end of Pitch Perfect a few times. Seriously, I never get tired of that scene. And apparently it did the trick.
I had way more fun in the class than I expected to. Strutting and twirling around the pole–it was kind of like being a grown and sexy woman and a little kid at the same time.
As you can see from my scuffed dance shoes, I really liked the “drag your leg through a spin and into a flamingo” move.
Afterward, we all walked over to Two Fools Tavern and ordered drinks, fish and chips, and then shared the most decadently delicious brownie ever. It seemed the appropriate thing to do.