Flamenco Dancing and Pound Cake

I am in New York right now. I live in Los Angeles, but am visiting family and friends and working for NY Fashion Week. My good friend Nicole had a birthday earlier this week and decided she wanted to take her friends to a flamenco class. Being her good friend and a bit of an adventurer, I was all in. Upon arrival, we donned our flamenco shoes and picked up our castanets. The teacher entered the room and rather than the tall, lean Spanish beauty as I had imagined, she was a short, portly woman who slightly resembled my Aunt Yolanda who had a fondness for Entenmanns pound cake after every meal. We created a half-circle and got some basic instruction. Then it was time to dance. Like a at a matador at a bullfight, our teacher cocked her nose and started to stomp. It was in this moment, that she was the tallest, leanest, sexiest, suavest women to ever exist. Her energy and confidence (mixed with arrogance of Flamenco) swelled in my head like the 12-time pasodoble music. This lasted for a whole five minutes with tireless hand and foot movement. It was not only incredible to watch, it evoked a sexy atmosphere of "the dance" for the novice pupils. It got me to thinking that no matter what size, shape, age or gender you are, if you cock that nose and are sure in your step, you transcend the trappings of a judgemental society and can, JUST. BE. Even still, pumpkin pie for breakfast may not have been such a good idea. Where's the diet doctor around here?
It got me to thinking that no matter what size, shape, age or gender you are, if you cock that nose and are sure in your step, you transcend the trappings of a judgemental society and can, JUST. BE.