So You Think You Can Dance? No, We Most Certainly Do Not

Sean and I took a dance lesson yesterday, which is a sentence I never thought I'd write. Seriously, a dance lesson: can you imagine? In our normal everyday lives, we are the people who sway like Junior High paramours when forced onto a dance floor together, feet shuffling awkwardly, hands clenched sweatily, grimaces firmly in place until the song finally ends three million years later. 

This sort of behavior, however, will not do for our wedding, where our first dance as a married couple will be---on a black and white checkerboard dance floor, no less!---to "God Only Knows," played on acoustic guitar by my dad and my brother Luke. Have you ever listened to the lyrics of "God Only Knows," by the way? They start out with "I may not always love you...," which at first I thought might raise a few eyebrows at the wedding, but which I swiftly decided I didn't actually care about because "God Only Knows" is a fantastic song, it surmises exactly how I feel about Sean---I mean, God only knows who would reset the wireless router if he weren't around, you know?---and when I heard my dad and Luke practicing it the other day together, it brought tears to my eyes, oh yes it did. 

Anyway, so we took a dance lesson---at the excellent Pick School of Ballroom Dancing, in case you ever happen to be in San Francisco and looking for a place to take dance lessons, you know, AS ONE OFTEN IS---and it was really kind of a blast. But boy, did we have to concentrate. As we were crossing the street back to our car afterwards, Sean said "I don't think I'm ever going to get her voice out of my head." And it's true: I went about much of my business today with a sweet but firm "step, step, ROCK, step / step, step, ROCK, step" echoing in my ears, and I am not ashamed to admit that I practiced my step, step, ROCK, step in elevators, in the changing room at the gym, and while brushing my teeth this morning. When we got home this evening after work, I even forced Sean to take me for a bumpy spin around the crowded bedroom while God Only Knows played on iTunes in the background. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers we ain't, but I think the cats were pretty impressed. Although I mean, whatever, they're cats. It's not like they could do any better.

Speaking of dancing, you may have noticed that on our wedding invitations, we included a line on the RSVP card that said "We're taking requests! Please let us know if there's a song you'd like to dance to." I don't know whether people had performance anxiety when it came to choosing a song, if they drew a blank when they thought about what they usually like to shake their booty to, or if perhaps they just don't really care for dancing altogether, but not as many people filled in that line as we'd hoped. (However, bonus points must go to my sweet 83-year-old grandmother, who wrote simply "I'll dance to anything!" Oh, really, Grandma? Well, let me introduce you to a man called 50 Cent...)

One of my tasks this weekend is to tackle making the playlist, and while we have had a massive amount of help from our friend Adam, who very kindly allowed us to come over to his house on Tuesday night and steal, song for song, the dance playlist he lovingly put together for his own wedding a year ago---sharing the wedding love! doesn't that warm the cockles of your heart?---we still don't have the complete bon-bon-shaking oeuvre we had hoped to end up with.

I mean, what if we're missing something, you know? I'd like to think one has all the bases covered with Livin' On A Prayer, Come On Eileen, and Blister In The Sun, but surely there are other move-busting songs I'm forgetting. What would get you out onto the dance floor for a little step, step, ROCK, step? Any suggestions?