Usually my friend Brenda Salmon and I prefer country dancing, but last night, we embraced L.A.’s glitz and glamour on Dancing with the Stars—as an audience member, of course. We got tickets online and thanks to Jon’s gracious offer to watch the girls, we ditched the cowboy boots and stumbled through Hollywood in heels and dresses.
Actually, we had tickets for LAST week’s show, but when we arrived (in our formal attire…), we discovered that our tickets only guaranteed us a place in line, not to get in the show. Minor detail. So we were turned away with the promise that we would have priority seats this week. And we did.
The cozy set was surrounded by coffee tables and chairs, and we were taken to the best and the worst seats in the house—right behind the judges. This meant that we were on camera (or so I’m told, I haven’t actually watched the tape yet), but we had to strain our necks to see the dancing.
We loved getting to know the women next to us (Hi, Nicky and Carol!) and cheer for our favorites. Personally, I can’t decide between Mario, Emmitt, and Monique...okay, now I sound obsessed. I’m assuming they all danced well last night, but I don’t know for sure since I spent the show staring at the back of Carrie Ann Inaba’s hair.
So maybe I’m a little obsessed, but even as I sit in front of my computer in my jeans and T-shirt the day after the show, I’m still feeling a little L.A.-ish. And Karly thinks it’s the coolest that her mommy went and DANCED with the stars even though my favorite dance stars are at home. I’d appreciate it if no one told her that I never actually got to dance.