Goodbye Jazz du Funk

Today was my last class ever at Jazz du Funk. It was happily an amazing end to the experience with my favorite teacher, Allen, teaching lyrical jazz. Yet again, I will state that Allen is an amazing teacher, and I'm also starting to think, after watching millions of reruns of "So You Think You Can Dance" that he's kind of Brian Friedman-esque in his choreography, only more modern. Great guy (that phrase is a gross understatement of how much I respect him).
Anyhoo, I ended up spending an extra half hour after class talking to the people that were Jazz du Funk regulars gossip and plan future classes. I found out from a lady named Debbie that there's more dance schools in Shanghai, and she's taking me to a ballet class on Tuesday (yay!). I should've started making friends sooner, stupid me.
Allen was also regaling us with tales of how he'd be dancing on the way to some elevator and end up smashing into something. Apparently he bumps into things very often. That started off another conversation about how everyone in the room always seems to walk into things when they're just walking. I'm glad they mentioned that because walking always seems like such an akward thing to me, too. I can't seem to avoid people or objects and just end up glancing off of them into something else, and it seems to be the case for the others. A girl (I don't know her name, but she's from Sweden - cool, no?) hypothesized that since dancers are constantly keeping their entire bodies controlled while dancing, it seems like such an odd thing to be relaxed when just walking, and being particularly limber, dancers end up just wobbling into everything. I decided that that makes sense. I do feel very akward walking, like I'm too fast, or too slow, off the beat that everyone else seems to be following, constantly trying to and failing to avoid bumping into other people. It's ironic that mom enrolled me in ballet so that I would be more graceful.