Water Ballet. Yes. Ballet.

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On my recent trip to Cabo San Lucas, I spent one dreadful hour doing something called “water aerobics.”

I have never done “water aerobics” before. Indeed, I thought they were just for older people, much older. But, there I was drinking by the pool with my new lesbian friends – who are awesome, btw. Super awesome. Anyway, there I was drinking beer and mojitos (oh my god, the mojitos were to die for), and the cruise director lad announces that it’s time for “water aerobics.” I start to swim to my lounge chair and drink, when I realize that two of my new friends are in. My lesbian friends. The ones that I want to think I am cool. You know? You are on vacation and you meet new people that you like, and you think, I want to get along. Be easy going. Not all obstreperous and difficult. So, if they are in, maybe I should be.

Plus, I’m drinking and eating on this trip. Sure, everyday there is lots of activity, exercise and adventure. But, a little extra cardio? Grab it! So, I decide that I am in. I stand next to my new friends and they don’t look uncomfortable. I do, of course.

The music starts and I think, ok, maybe this will be ok. The music is good. The cruise instructor lad tells us to start bouncing – like running in place. Alright. I start to run. But soon there is some odd stretching and a bit of dancing. I think, hmmm, if this gets much more dancey, I might turn straight. Or, at least into Esther Williams. But, I said I was in, so I keep working at it.

The music is good, but the moves make me feel lame. It’s not the cruise instructor’s fault; he’s a doll and good at his job. But still, I feel super lame. So, I decide to do what I do best, clown around and goof off. I start dancing like I am at a club – instead of doing the exact prescribed move. My friends laugh. I feel better. Other people in the class laugh. It’s like I’ve let them know that I am not comfortable waiving my arm in that super-feminine-more-like-drag-queen-way, but I want to stay with you, and they appreciate it.

After that, it’s on. I do the moves I can do with ease, and those that are weird, I goof off. Making up new dance steps like I am Usher. I am amused. My friends seem engaged, and I am able to stay with the class. Get some exercise. Not be obstreperous. All is well.

I kid you not that at the end of the class we all got into a circle and spun around with our legs up in the air. It was right out of an Esther Williams movie. OMG, my worst fears had been realized! Only, they hadn’t. By then, I was fine. I was having fun – doing the exercises and goofing off. Enjoying my new friends. By then, I was willing to feel foolish. And, I did feel foolish. But, I did it. I did the most lame, goofiest, drag-queeniest exercise hour ever. And, you know what? I had fun doing water ballet!

It’s butch to try new things and feel uncomfortable – even in water ballet. Be Butch.

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About Tristan Higgins, aka Butch Jaxon

I am a butch. This blog is about what I think. If you do not know what butch means, you are probably on the wrong blog. In the interests of inclusion, though, I can tell you that “butch” means a lesbian that is big, strong, tough, more macho, less girly. Of course, there are no hard and fast rules – which is an ongoing theme in my blog (and in the comments), but those are the basics. A butch will most likely not wear makeup. A butch is often referred to as “sir” by someone who is not paying attention. What else? I am, after all, not just a butch. I am happily married to the most amazing woman ever, and the mother of two fantastic kids. I am also a lover of, in no particular order, beer, bow ties, breasts, movies, hiking, bookstores, travel, dogs, geocaching, polar bears, the gym, music, gadgets, and more. By day, I am an intrepid corporate entertainment lawyer. Although I try hard not to be labeled as such – sporting a bleached Mohawk, for example. Think more entertainment and less corporate. By night, bring it all on! In my blog, I talk about things from a butch perspective, but this is not just for butches. We all love our femmes. Please do not let me offend femmes, mine in particular! If you like what you read here, I hope you will comment and let me know what you think. If you do not like what you read, well, what the hell do I care? Start your own blog. Be Butch. View all posts by Tristan Higgins, aka Butch Jaxon

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