I refuse to dance like no one’s looking. I dance like everyone’s looking and going, “Damn, girl’s got some moves.”
Even when no one is around to, you know, look.
I’m not embarrassed by my dancing. I dance when I’m happy. I dance when I’m sad. I dance when I’m pissed off. I dance when I need to think. I dance when I’ve had a bite of a really tasty meatball and cannot find the words to express my joy. I just, you know… dance.
It’s a thing.
I forget, though, that other people are not quite as in touch with their inner DJ as I am and sometimes when they encounter me getting my hip shaking groove on, they’re a little disconcerted.
And they then expect me to be embarrassed.
Two problems with that: first of all, I like dancing, I’m good at dancing, and if you don’t think my dancing is all that great, well, I wasn’t dancing for your approval so NYAH.
And the second thing is, dude, my sense of shame was forcibly amputated as a child, so, yeah. It takes a lot to embarrass me, and doing Can-Can high kicks in the kitchenette at work doesn’t make the cut.
Therefore, in conclusion: EPIC FANDOM DANCE REMIX!
*if you didn’t figure it out yet, ‘Baila, baila, baila’ is Spanish for ‘Dance, dance, dance.’