Chicken

I felt like a big chicken tonight.

Andrew and I ventured over to Altona for a salsa lesson. Once we found the studio (after a bit of wandering around) it was a good lesson. He hasn't really danced salsa before and wants to learn, but we are starting with the very basics. So it was a bit difficult. But he was a trooper, and made a real effort. We stayed to watch some of the next class, which happened to be quite advanced. There was a guy who didn't have a partner and Andrew said I should go ask because I wanted to so badly, but I just couldn't muster up the courage. I waited too long to ask.

Last night when Emma, Luc and I went salsa dancing, I did ask some people, however. Some said yes, and two said they were taking a break and would ask me later, and did not. Ouch. Guess I just need to ask more people.

But the dancing isn't the only area where I feel like I'm faltering. I should be writing. Really writing. I want to, I can feel it's there and I am ready to, and yet, nothing. No real excuse. I finally have time and am in an inspiring place. Maybe I just need to stop being such a chicken and go for it. No one's going to do it for me.

It seems like we all have these dreams and we sit around dreaming them, but who actually actively and passionately goes after them? Dreams are all good and well, but I'd rather be living them than daydreaming. The beauty of choice.

Und danke, Lexi, dass du mir auf Deutsch geschrieben hast! Das hat mich aber so gefreut, ich kann's nicht sagen! Bitte, mach's weiter.