Feeling better (Walmart did not win)

I had an evening of Wo-Pop (always puts me in a good mood) and journaling--this is part of an entry from a blog I like, and it was what I needed to be reminded of:
I had a pretty nasty, pretty typical drug addiction in my twenties. I was constantly looking backwards, constantly mourning losses I couldn't name. As a result, my journal entries have a stale air of repetition. Each speaks to change, to transition, that I hoped I would make, that I hoped would happen to me, if only for some grand, sweeping, bold catalyst. I was always looking for something bigger, more fulfilling. I was always seeking something more.
I walk to work. Most mornings I grab a cup of coffee on the corner of 46th and Ninth Avenue, then turn east towards Eighth. And most mornings, that small, tree-lined stretch of 46th between Eighth and Ninth is beautiful in some small way: the sun through the leaves, the empty playground, pigeons scattering as I pass.
This morning was no different, except in one little way. I realized that I was there. I realized that this is it. I realized that change occurs in a million tiny increments. I realized that transition occurs one footfall at a time, one step before the next. Before you know it, you're there. Before you know it, each little step has moved you forward to some new, great place. Before you know it, you've persevered.from Benjaminwagner.com
Good words.
Listening to dance music always makes me wish I could, you know, dance. One of the bloggers I read (I know, I read a lot of them) (and see, I know to write "a lot") likes to bellydance--she lives locally, so I wrote her & asked about where she takes classes. Tonight I thought again about doing that--I want to get in touch with my inner sex-goddess. I want to allure and flirt and all that fun stuff--bellydancing sounds like a pretty cool place to start. Anyone want to do it with me?