Throwback Thursday… There’s No Farting in Ballroom…circa 2015

Throwback to November 5, 2015, the original publication date of There’s No Farting in Ballroom. 

I had been dancing pro-am with my then-23-year-old instructor/partner for 10 months. We were working hard to prepare for my first Ohio Star Ball. There was no farting in ballroom then. There is no farting in ballroom now and there never will be farting in ballroom.

WARNING: If you are offended by bodily functions, you may want to skip today’s post. Carry on. There’s nothing for

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The Dancing Housewife on How to Spice Up a Marriage

The Dancing Doc had way more fun than he expected in his competitive debut. Of course he did because 1) he danced with me and  2) he danced with me. Check out the post-competition pictorial wrap…

Don’t we look happy? Crap loads of fun aside, there are significant advantages to dancing full-on amateur with your spouse over dancing pro-am with someone half your age (okay, less than half your age).

Cost.  No brainer. Sure, it took something like ten months of

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Kicking and Screaming

For those of you assuming I drag my poor husband, kicking and screaming, to the dance studio, think again. He likes to dance as much as I do. In fact, our very first date back in 1982 was an eight-hour dance marathon. Apparently he fancied himself a pretty good dancer back then and figured he could impress me with his snappy moves. He was right. We went all the way that night… as in WE DANCED THE ENTIRE 8 HOURS WITHOUT

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