There are things in this world that just seem like they belong together: Root beer and vanilla ice cream, Christina Aguilera and heavy face makeup, beer and ping-pong balls, herds of freshmen and Del Playa Drive and - my favorite: -ice and dancing.

Often underrated and almost always underappreciated, ice dancing is without a doubt, the Winter Games’ best “non-sport” event. And aside from the fact that America’s own Belbin and Agosto took home the silver, there’s something for everyone.

For the dance enthusiast, an ice dancing performance is like a five-minute clip of “Strictly Ballroom” - on acid. Incredible holds, tight twizzles and … hydroblading? Hell yes.

For the chick-flick fan, ice dancing is all the drama without the shitty, sub-par dialogue. When Italian pair Barbara Fusar-Poli and Maurizio Margaglio stumbled into a heap of sheer, neon Lycra, they stood on the ice for almost a minute, shooting each other the classic “f you and your sequined appliquŽs” look. They didn’t speak for more than 24 hours after. “Beaches,” “Hitch” and “My Best Friend’s Wedding” don’t have a blade to stand on.

And men will find themselves enchanted by the ladies’ bare-it-all, barely there leotards of ice dancing, where salsa meets slutty and strategically placed daisies are the only things preventing Armenian skater Anastasia Grebenkina from landing on the cover of a Frederick’s of Hollywood catalogue.

Old, fat men pushing brooms around a sliding rock can’t compete. Ice dancing has the partner-dropping, scantily clad drama America loves. Dancing, but on ice.

Hey, if the skate fits…

The only ice Daily Nexus Managing Editor Kristen Richer ever comes across is resting at the bottom of her Long Island Iced Tea.