Bellys dancing

I’ve often thought that if I were a super hero, my super power would be my hips. Mostly because they're big.

I’d swing one of my powerfully large hips in the direction of my enemies and knock them flat on their skinny asses. Because, you know, any enemy of mine would no doubt be skinny.

So with that in mind, I started taking a belly dancing class.

Belly dancing is basically swinging your hips wildly while sucking in your gut. Sucking in my gut is my normal state of being, and with my super-hero hips, I figured I'd have this belly dancing thing down, and maybe even look good doing it!

I was wrong.

Belly dancing is not so much in the hips as it is in the legs and feet. You keep your legs bent just a little, and to do the wild hip swinging, you straighten one of your legs and use the ball of your foot to really push your hips up. Then do the same thing with the other leg and foot.

But while your hips are doing that, you are also trying to keep your head and shoulders still. Only your hips (and legs and feet) should really be moving.

Unless, of course, you do the fancy arm movements too. Then your arms are supposed to move gracefully, sending a silent "come hither" message. My arms, for example, move in such a way that they say "Help me, I'm drowning."

So it's not easy and it's very difficult to not look ridiculous. But if you know what you're doing, it can be a very expressive and even seductive dance. All the older ladies in my class joke that they're going to try these moves on their husbands. Most of them shouldn't.

But when you do it right, your hips look like they have smoothly detached from your body. The hips just sort of float in space somewhere between the torso and thighs, speaking their own language. It's pretty cool to see someone dance this way. It's hipnotic. (HA!)

I have caught myself in the mirror on occasion during my class, and I have discovered that whether I'm doing it right or wrong, it's not in any way good.

When I'm doing it wrong, I look like I'm being electrocuted. But when I'm doing it right, and my hips are smoothly detached from the rest of me like they're supposed to be, it's hard not to see just how big they really are. I mean, my hips not only speak their own language, they have their own country in which to speak it. It's like having another butt cheek attached to each side of me.

In other words, it's not really my kind of dance.

But I am not giving up on the belly dancing class. I've made an ass out of myself before, no sense in stopping now.

Besides, I need practice swinging those hips for when I become a super hero.