“How I Learned To Dance Salsa And Stop Taking Crapola”

Possible new title for my book. Not sure…too subtle?

I’m not sure it matters. Unless my book includes a step-by-step analysis about how to find a husband, it won’t see the light of a printed press. Every book about partner dancing (that I can find) somehow has to do with finding your husband, boyfriend, boytoy, love of your life. If not in the dancing community, than as a byproduct of opening your chakras and unleashing your uber-girly docile Goddess (but not the angry kind) by virtue of following a man…(puke).

Am I the only one who discovered other things by dancing? Like, how to scowl and be a bi-otch, so that guys I don’t want as partners wouldn’t ask me to dance. Or, how to expunge my case of Nice Girl-itis so that guys I didn’t want to talk to wouldn’t bother me with boring come on lines. Ok, so these may not be husband landing sk-eeels. But still…being a Bad Girl (not that kind….ok, maybe sometimes). Just admit it, Bitches. (It’s my goal to add this word – “Bitches”- to every blog post).

Ok, so you got a husband, but now where do you go when you wanna get all Serena Williams on someone? (Girl is Bad. Ass.)

Just for today, I can think up new book titles.

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