Last Tuesday, I was privileged enough (or stupid enough) to waste $260 dollars on tickets to see Britney. In my defense, it was her first show in three years and I wasn’t aware when I gave $260 to a scalper that I would be paying $26 a minute for her show. In my mind, I delved into a wonderful Britney fantasy – our taut and toned pop tartlet would give the best performance of her life, with scintillating new dance moves that she honed from the Millennium (maybe after another tryst with Wade Robson), and maybe she would leak a new track or two with possibly a secret never before heard duet with Timbaland. We would all wake up from the white trash nightmare that any Britney fan has been living in during the Federline years, there would be no images of Britney traipsing barefoot and pregnant through Arco station bathroom stalls carrying a baby on her back, chomping on Cheetos and sloppily slurping a Venti Vanilla Frappucino. I consoled myself time and time again by saying that I was NOT a pathetic Britney fan. No – I am a recovering glam rock junky that was merely seduced by Britney’s mesmerizing stage performance. As a dancer, I lied to myself, that it was my duty to watch her captivate an audience. But I can not deceive myself anymore. Britney’s moves were just a shadow of her former precision. The Britney that had cast a spell over me when I saw the opening of her Onyx hotel tour in San Diego three years ago was just a distant memory. Britney and her beguiling dancers looked like the rejects from the search for the next Pussycat Doll. The other dancers superior bodies and lines highlighted Britney’s soft arms, sluggishness, and self conscious dancing. As a dancer, the ultimate goal is to dance like nobody is watching. If Britney continues to give performances like this, we may all finally be able to look the other way.