lots.

Every moment was mapped out for me between the hours of 2:30 and 9:00 tonight.

And it was kind of nice, because everything that I was doing involved either people, music, or dance, and I happen to be in love with all three of those.

And it was kind of tiring.

And it made me very hungry.

Because see, now that I have these invisalign thingies, snacking isn’t really an option. At all. And do you know what the worst part of that is? The other day I had to turn down a fruit snack. A FRUIT SNACK. I love fruit snacks. And a friend offered me one out of the blue.  I quietly declined with a no thank you, and he looked pretty surprised that I didn’t take him up on the offer.

Actually, I am suddenly hyper aware of how many people offer me either food or drinks all the time. It’s like when you have some sort of injury with your toe and all of the sudden everyone and their dog is stepping on your toe, I guess. Probably, nothing actually changed, but now you are just noticing it because, OUCH!! MY TOE IS BROKEN AND YOU JUST BROKE IT AGAIN!!

Well now it’s like that, but with food and drinks and me all being hyper aware of having to say Oh, I’m good! or I already ate (yeah, like five hours ago…). or the plain and simple classic, no, thanks.

Which reminds me of my nephew Ollie. Have I told you this about him? I’m not sure, but here goes, and if hearing a repeat story about my adorable nephew is the worst thing that ever happens to you, I’d say you’re doing just fine.

But when Ollie was about two, I think, he was very strictly trained in the art of good manners (still is, actually). He was quick on the draw with his pleases and thank yous and even the rarer may I’s. But he also had his own agenda, as most of us do. And so when I’d watch him and tell him to please not go out the door right now, since we are staying inside, he’d very courteously toss a no thanks! in my general direction as he made a beeline for the front door.

Only with his little lisp, it sounded more like, No thankth! and he’d be on his merry way, having accomplished both being polite and getting his way.

Or so he thought…Cause I’d catch him before he got wherever it was he was going, and try not to laugh at the same time because goshdarnit, his little no thankth! was adorable even if he was being disobedient.

But right, no thanks. For the snacks. EACH ONE. Even when it’s a fruit snack and goodness knows, but I’d like to have one. And actually, with my invisalign, sometimes I am afraid I sound a little more like Ollie’s no thankth! then I’d like to.

But fruit snacks wasn’t the point, I’m pretty sure.

Though they are certainly good enough to be, I’m also pretty sure.

What I meant to tell you about was that during the last class I taught tonight–a hip-hop class–a guy stuck his head in the door, asking which one of us was Jessica. I told him me and then he asked if he could take pictures of us, because he was trying to enter some kind of photo competition. I said I didn’t mind if the class didn’t mind, and once we consented, he made himself more comfortable in the studio and mentioned to us that he could win some money with one of these photos.

I suggested he share it with us, if that’s the case, and then he awkwardly said, I’d…like…to in a way that indicated he would not.

Which is fine.

Then he started snapping pictures and suddenly I was wondering if tonight was the best night to wear my bright blue headband a little lower on my forehead than normal–a little more 80′s than normal–after all. It’s just those pesky roots, you know. And the pesky not showering every day, too. Makes me reach for headbands lately. Okay, well, just today. But did it have to be a bright one? Well, yes, cause we’re talking me, I guess. But, alright–did it have to be tied so low on my forehead?

Nope.

But it was, anyway.

And now I’m talking as if it wasn’t me who did it in the first place. Like I’m some sad victim–oh no, poor Jess. Looks like she’s showing the symptoms of that new disease: 80′s headbanditis. I guess it was just a matter of time, with that one.

Oh, but enough about the headband.

What I wanted to tell you was that the Picture Guy was standing by the mirrors while I was teaching a combination, and once I asked the class if they were ready to try it with music and they said yes, I joked with him and said, You can certainly try it with the music too!

And then gotcha, jokes on me, cause right away, he started kicking off his shoes and told me with just a little breathlessness since I guess those shoes were tied real tight or something that, actually, he is a dancer too.

Which, I am sorry to admit, did surprise me, because his body was not the physique of a normal dancer. And I know, what’s normal? but what I mean is, he did not in any way at all look how most dancers look.

And then he told me, Yes, I train at the Y; I have since I was 8.

Which is when I wondered what it was he meant by that. Because nobody trains at the Y. If you are four, you might take a little dance class there. When you are six, it might even include fifteen minutes of tap. But when you are a grown man? No, I don’t think you are training at the Y. And if you really want to dance, you for sure do not do it at the Y.

But bless him, because before I knew what was happening he had jumped right in with the other dancers and managed to start the combination in something similar to the starting pose, at least.

And then I turned on the music and didn’t really watch because I didn’t want to embarrass him and also, I needed to be demonstrating for the class, anyway.

Still, this guy–he really went for it. And it made me smile. And it surprised me. And I hope he keeps going for it.

And I hope that if he does win some money for a picture in which I am featured–or more likely my blue headband, worn nice and low on the forehead is featured–then I hope he shares some of the spoils with me.