For those of you who continue to lament the fact that I may or may not have video of my upcoming Dancing With the Stars performance, I offer you this little taste of what the performance will look like – a dancing amuse-bouche, if you will. For those of you who don’t give a damn, just note that I will be looking fairly ridiculous in the following photos, so it might be worth your while to stick around.
If you don’t know it already, I will be dancing to Gangnam Style. Which means we have to start off with a little horse trot.
And some side shuffle.
And then some of that making-funny-faces-while-you-horse-trot-in-place-over-the-guy-who-is-crawling-through-your-legs:
Because this is not a “Dancing Like the Video” competition, we actually had to add in some plausible dance moves, like whatever-this-is-called, where you do like a tango-thingie, except it’s not called a tango.
Or, like this, a dip-thingie, that apparently isn’t called a dip-thingie, but maybe something else:
Because I have no dance skills at all, the only thing I could bring to the table was a somewhat credible cartwheel. Had it been up to me, I would have just spent the whole time doing cartwheels, because DAMN! Look at that form!
Speaking of form, there are some lifts involved, some of which go better than others. This particular one, though not complicated, gives me fits. I can’t keep a straight face (or a straight back, which seems to be the root of the problem).
The upside of all this is that I get to kick Mark in the face.
Though he doesn’t really deserve it, I can’t help but feel in my heart like I’m taking down a real black belt.
Of course, paybacks are hell, and in return Mark does a number on me:
There’s some spinning over the head involved in that one, but none of the pictures came out very well. Sorry! Plus, I wouldn’t want to spoil the awesomeness for those of you who CAN make it to the event.
The whole shebazzle ends with an awesome flying kick, which would be way more awesome if I actually knew how to do a flying kick (do you see how Mark is laughing?). After this is all over, I might just have to enroll in Mark’s Tang Soo Do class and get some real schooling.
Matthew tried to give me some schooling on the spot.
In the many years I’ve known him, I’ve come to learn that Matthew’s only black belt is in keeping it real. Or so he claims. Or, more accurately, so claims a shirt he insists on wearing. ALL. THE. TIME.
(also: when I say “keeping it real” I mean “being a pansy”)
In the end, I am just going to have to try to play to my strengths, which are looking ridiculous and wearing sparkly hotpants (have I mentioned the hotpants?). I am totally relying on the power of absurdity to get me through this thing.
And I think I’ve got a pretty good handle on that.