There was a time when the men would dance with me only once and then escort me off the Tango floor. Now how I revel in being asked for just one more dance after a tanda is finished. Sometimes they ask for even two tandas in a row and of course I’m delighted.

I went from one end of the spectrum to the other tonight on the dance floor. There is a flamboyant man who is a Cajun/Zydeco dancer when he isn’t dancing Tango. I love his fast footwork and delightfully upbeat pace -- he turns Tango into an athletic event, it’s great!

At the other end of that spectrum is an equally charming dancer who dances only in classic close embrace. I’m fascinated when I meet someone I just click with out on the dance floor. And that was definitely the case with this interesting man, who by the way, speaks four different languages.

I don’t know what the deal is but I have no problem bouncing between several completely different styles and loving it. I don’t enjoy close embrace and usually feel stifled. But I loved dancing with this guy and didn’t want to stop and surprisingly he didn’t either. We danced almost five tandas. That’s about fifteen dances total. And yes I’m totally exhausted.

Climbing into my truck tonight to drive home I realized I shouldn’t have given myself a shot before I left the house to dance. I thigh feels so bruised from the brushed and bumping contact as the men would displace that leg as they will do so often in Tango. I was oblivious until I was walking to my truck. Yikes, that sure smarts! Oh well live and learn I suppose.

All in all it was just what I needed. A good Tango fix and now I’m cheerful and happy as ever. I drove home with the country radio station blaring away, singing at the top of my lungs.

A Bad Day Turned Good.

I called my closest girlfriend yesterday, so missing her, and feeling down in general.

I had discovered that both my roommates were moving out on me at the end of the month I let my worries of how I was going to afford my meds and my new slew of doctors bills from that damn breast lump get me all depressed.

These are the kinds of things I don’t talk to anyone about. Not my family or friendly acquaintances that see me on a regular basis, Doreen and Kerry are the only ones I will share so openly with about personal stuff. Although both live so far away from me, at least I’m very fortunate to see Doreen during the summer when she and I can both afford to travel together with our herding dogs and hang out.

During my call to Doreen I was able to tell her all the things I’d been keeping to myself, she was there to sift through and sort out the serious problems from the added extra I’d thrown in just to make myself feel even worse. Do you ever do that? When feeling bad, do you ever look for as many reasons as you possibly can to add to those few really big problems?

Well that’s what I was doing. I rarely ever get depressed but wow, when it hits me, boy, am I a mess! And I was piling it on big time. I topped off my list of complaints with the fact that the man I’ve been seeing introduced me as “company” at Easter and of course I thought I should have been introduced as a friend instead.

Doreen questioned me thoroughly throwing the nonsense stuff out immediately. I just wanted to be more important in this guy’s life and I wasn’t being realistic. She just laughs at me and tells me not everyone moves as fast as I do in relationships. I had to laugh too and we could move on to the more important things.

I realized while talking with her and finding myself laughing again, returned to my good spirits, that there is nothing better in the whole wide world than having someone know you so well, all your flaws as well as the good stuff, and still love you for it. I have a lot of nice folks that I’m friends with but really close and special friends are hard to find. Doreen is truly one of them. Man, Doreen and I can talk for hours and laugh our fool heads off.

Since I’d been feeling down, I needed to talk to someone who I deeply care about and trust, and Doreen is that person for me. This is my buddy who shares my love of playing outside in the muddy spring fields and mucking around in sheep shit. There is no one else better equipped to understand me so well!

What follows is a note I wrote to my love interest. It talks about my need to be dancing all the time. You know I even think that it has been the one thing that is making my back stronger. For sure it has been amazing incentive to keep trying so hard to get out there...

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It occurs to me that you might not realize why the dancing is such an important thing to me and why I love it so. It does have something to do with me being a “doer” and not an “observer” but more specifically it is the fact that I am celebrating life so joyfully each time I am out there. Each time I kick up my heels it’s an in-your-face to life. I can’t be brought down so easily and here’s the living proof!

I was dead to the world for those three years, trapped in my house seeing no one and able to do next to nothing. I rarely had energy to make it up the block and back, my only companions the dogs. So in some way dancing is me celebrating the fact I am alive and kicking again. I sat around long enough, now it’s time to dance, to connect with people in a more personal way. I want to miss no opportunities.

Some people are living on automatic pilot, just going through the motions. This is what they do or have been doing for years, their routine...going to Rush or Four Seasons, so dead on the inside to the joy of this very new moment in time. Not me I’m relishing the breathlessness, the unexpectedness and even the pain, at times, of each dance.

For all those days in bed dreaming of dancing, I take none of it for granted now. I live for these moments because they can be gone in a heart beat and only people like myself know this.

Loving Unconditionally

It is the hardest sort of love, a giving with no expected return. A love of friends, family or that of a lover -- to whomever it is given -- it is most challenging when you know it can’t or won't be returned. I have always found my own unrequited love to come from the depths of my loyal spirit, and most hidden secretly romantic heart.

Sometimes familial love can break us and shatter our spirits early. Placing cracks in our foundation from which we are no longer willing to chance showing those inside emotions to others. When we love unconditionally it opens up areas of such great potential hurt, that for many, it’s simply to hard to be so selfless knowing the risky consequences.

I had to learn to be selfish to be able to find balance in my selflessness when I love someone. Many don’t love as openly or quickly, they enter into this area cautiously. I’m reckless and stubborn at the same time. Seeing something that others might not recognize, there are certain people I feel an immediate connection to. It’s as if I understand them before I even know them. It’s an odd sense to have. And one that can be easily misunderstood by others.

How many of us can truly love with no conditions, I wonder. I find I do have some conditions of my own and sometimes they surprise me. Quiet ideals that when crushed can never quite be the same again, and yet still I continue to love to the best of my ability.