There Are No Dance Moms Without Dance

Y’all, I have to apologize. I realize that I may have gotten a bit ahead of myself last week by giving you the bare outline of the Dance Moms concept and then diving straight into the dysfunction.

Dysfunction is, of course, delicious…. But talent is the glue that holds the reality sandwich together; without it you have a stale drama sandwich. OPEN FACE. Fortunately, these gurls have plenty of talent. And every week, under the merciless tutelage of Kim Jung Abby, they bring to life her wonderfully demented creative vision through DAYUNCE!

So, to get to the heart of why we grown-ass adults tell our friends we aren’t feeling well so we can ditch happy hour and go home, get on our couches in our sweatpants, and watch Lifetime while we eat cake with our hands…. here are five of Dance Moms‘ finest routines!

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You Didn’t Know You Wanted To Know This Much About Dance Moms….

But, like Donald Rumsfeld said, the unknown unknowns are the one’s that’ll getcha! Right now you’re in a state of ignorance, but never fear my chickadees, ignorance can be cured.

There are so many things I love about Dance Moms. Friendships inextricably intertwined with power struggles. There’s the fact that every single blessed moment of this show is an ethical dilemma about how much a parent should push a child to achieve her dreams (yes, the “her” is purposefully ambiguous as to whether it refers to mother or child)….. Plus, there’s DANCING!

For those who have not partaken of the glory of Dance Moms…. The basic premise is that a small group of fame-thirsty mothers subject their (generally lovely and talented) daughters to the cruelty of a completely insane dance teacher, Abby Lee Miller.

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Abby takes her “team” to dance competitions requiring them to learn new routines every week and jostle with each other for primacy within the group. Scoring well at a competition (and, if we’re honest, general sucking up to Abby) is rewarded with the opportunity to perform a solo the following week…. “failure” and/or disobedience is punished with no solo and possible expulsion from the weekly group routine.

Because the Lord is just and merciful, the routines are frequently batshit insane.

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This show is so good, it’s as though it was engineered in a lab to hit every single dopamine receptor. It is, essentially, perfection.

To inaugurate what I’m sure will turn into a ridiculous series on the massive fuckery that is this TV show….

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Jack Her Up! Or, Five Things I’ve Learned from Say Yes to the Dress

Y’all, I have had the delightful (not sarcastic!) but also bizarre experience recently of being the second set of eyeballs for a delightful friend shopping for her wedding dress. Because my friend is the most low key bride in the world (“I don’t have Pinterest. I like the color blue,” was her response to the “what’s your wedding going to be like?” interrogation by the various bridal consultants), the experience was pleasant and anthropological, and I was grateful to be of some limited assistance to her wedding journey….

However, the experience reawakened one of my more shameful addictions…. It’s hard to admit publicly, but Say Yes to the Dress is basically my version of bath salts. I say I’m going to watch a little, and then a little turns into a lot, and soon I’m rampaging through the streets biting off strangers’ appendages because TRUMPET GOWNS MAKE ME DISSOCIATIVE.

In an effort to find a silver lining to this problem, I have compiled a list of five lessons I have learned over the years from watching SYTTD…..

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Someone get me some high-waisted khakis and a pair of Sketchers fitflops…

… because y’all, I am no longer a spring chicken.  No way! You’re so young! you say, after I stare at you pointedly and cough.

But unfortunately you’re wrong. I might still have a tight body and be hot AF– you do! you are! you say after I “accidentally” kick you under the table– but I’m definitely getting to an age that will soon be described as “mature.”

As with all things, I realized this because of TV.

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Q&A: Do the Funky Chicken

I’m flattered and honored, because after answering my first advice question, I have been asked a second! Actually, maybe I’m also slightly concerned about the common sense and self preservation instincts of my readers, but…. here we go again!

Q: Anabel asks, “Are there any merits to deboning a chicken before roasting it (a la Jacques Pépin) versus just sticking the whole bird in the oven (and being done with it)?”

A: Depends on how much you enjoy humiliating your food before you eat it and subsume its life force into your own body! Only you can answer that one!