(no subject)
Phew. Life!
We had another blues dance party at Laurel House last Friday.
It seems almost impossible to me that the first and only one was almost a YEAR ago. As of the dance last Friday, I'm offically in love with blues dance, even though we've only met twice. It didn't matter that my only blues dance experience was the one workshop last October and a quick lesson Laney gave me a few days before the party; I still got to dance with a large handful of men and women, two of whom were actually blues dance teachers, and all of whom were absolutely incredible leaders. I felt stiff and awkward for the first hour of the party, and there's no way you can dance blues when you feel stiff and awkward. But once I'd tossed back a couple of drinks and chatted with some people and let the music sink into my bones a bit, I began to get the hang of it.
And it's... incredible. I've loved what little I've done of salsa and merengue and swing and tango, but blues dancing is sensual and spontaneous and soulful in a way that's unequaled by any other form of social dance I've tried. You and your partner just listen to the music with your whole body; the leader becomes the beat, and the follower becomes the liquid space between the beat that is so expressively emphasized in blues, and together you become one fluid earbodyheart that hears and moves and feels without recognizing any distinction between those three functions. It's easily as wonderful as the best sex I've ever had, and for many of the same reasons; but it isn't sexual, and I never felt threatened or disembodied the way I generally do in actual sexual situations involving boy-types. Just happy. All over. Delicious.
Of course, I also felt like a total klutz, since most of these people were very advanced dancers -- in fact, I'm pretty certain I was the only beginner in the room. But feeling seems to count as much as experience in blues dance. The two instructors I danced with both expressed surprise that I was a beginner. And apparently the girl I couldn't stop watching (this party's Hot Hips) asked Laney who I was, thinking I was an "out of town dancer" (because the TC swing/blues people all know each other) and commented that she wished she was such good buddies with The Great Damon (cute instructor I spent much of the night talking too), and couldn't believe Laney when she told her I'd only learned the moves three days ago. So even though I felt like a total clutz (albeit a very happy clutz) apparently I looked convincingly confident enough to be mistaken for a friend of The Great Damon. YAY ME.
Laney talked to some big honchos in the blues community who were at the party, and it's now OFFICIAL -- we're
making it a regular thing. Third Saturday of every month, the Laurel House Blues Party. I AM SO THRILLED.
Corey and Peter, on the final leg of their crazy six-week roadtrip, arrived at 2 AM, just as the house was emptying of the last dancers. (They'd driven straight here from Niagra Falls, holy shit.) I squealed, tackled them, fed them and put them to bed.
They only intended to stay until Monday or Tuesday, but I am such a good hostess (and they were so sick of being on the road) that they extended the stay until yesterday morning. We went for walks. We saw UP (second time for Peter and me, first for Corey, we all got teary). We went to bookstores and thriftstores and junk shops. I met their friends Scott and Kayley, who just moved from Portland to a house only four blocks from mine, HOORAY new friends. We ate delicious meals; Japanese noodle shop Tanpopo, my cooking, Scott and Kayley's cooking, iccream at Izzy's, brunch at Luce (oh wow), takeout from Pad Thai, various bits snitched from Fireroast and impromptu breakfasts and snacks from my rather stretched larder. We hung out in a big group (Peter, Corey, Danielle, Scott, Kayley, Lindsay, Emily, and me), got very drunk, and played Never Have I Ever until we were all too hilariously intoxicated to remember any of the more incriminating details of things people had revealed. We danced until 3 one night, and stayed up equally late most other nights talking and laughing and being high and messing around. It was a wonderful wonderful visit. I almost cried when they had to leave.
During their stay and since they left, I've been fielding a few questions from bemused housemates about how exactly this friendship+ works, and how come no one's jealous, and doesn't it feel weird, etc. The answers: it seems to be working well, because everyone cares about each other, and no it doesn't feel weird it feels perfectly natural. Crypticness is cryptic... But I'm quite happy with this small corner of my personal life. And I'm certainly learning a lot from it.
In summary: hooray for wonderful visits, and I am so amazingly lucky in my friends.
And now I'm starting on a Week of Crazy, during which I will have to work nearly double the usual number of hours at Fireroast (we're catering a huge wedding next Saturday) and will also (I hope I hope I hope) start Japanese classes again at Macalester. And there are birthday parties springing up everywhere, and Evan visiting the cities this weekend, and I'm going dancing with Laney on Saturday, and the house is a mess and I have a to-do list a mile long, and wow I don't think life has ever had such a wonderfully high ratio of fun/stress.
There. That's me, mostly.
... And how are you all?
We had another blues dance party at Laurel House last Friday.
It seems almost impossible to me that the first and only one was almost a YEAR ago. As of the dance last Friday, I'm offically in love with blues dance, even though we've only met twice. It didn't matter that my only blues dance experience was the one workshop last October and a quick lesson Laney gave me a few days before the party; I still got to dance with a large handful of men and women, two of whom were actually blues dance teachers, and all of whom were absolutely incredible leaders. I felt stiff and awkward for the first hour of the party, and there's no way you can dance blues when you feel stiff and awkward. But once I'd tossed back a couple of drinks and chatted with some people and let the music sink into my bones a bit, I began to get the hang of it.
And it's... incredible. I've loved what little I've done of salsa and merengue and swing and tango, but blues dancing is sensual and spontaneous and soulful in a way that's unequaled by any other form of social dance I've tried. You and your partner just listen to the music with your whole body; the leader becomes the beat, and the follower becomes the liquid space between the beat that is so expressively emphasized in blues, and together you become one fluid earbodyheart that hears and moves and feels without recognizing any distinction between those three functions. It's easily as wonderful as the best sex I've ever had, and for many of the same reasons; but it isn't sexual, and I never felt threatened or disembodied the way I generally do in actual sexual situations involving boy-types. Just happy. All over. Delicious.
Of course, I also felt like a total klutz, since most of these people were very advanced dancers -- in fact, I'm pretty certain I was the only beginner in the room. But feeling seems to count as much as experience in blues dance. The two instructors I danced with both expressed surprise that I was a beginner. And apparently the girl I couldn't stop watching (this party's Hot Hips) asked Laney who I was, thinking I was an "out of town dancer" (because the TC swing/blues people all know each other) and commented that she wished she was such good buddies with The Great Damon (cute instructor I spent much of the night talking too), and couldn't believe Laney when she told her I'd only learned the moves three days ago. So even though I felt like a total clutz (albeit a very happy clutz) apparently I looked convincingly confident enough to be mistaken for a friend of The Great Damon. YAY ME.
Laney talked to some big honchos in the blues community who were at the party, and it's now OFFICIAL -- we're
making it a regular thing. Third Saturday of every month, the Laurel House Blues Party. I AM SO THRILLED.
Corey and Peter, on the final leg of their crazy six-week roadtrip, arrived at 2 AM, just as the house was emptying of the last dancers. (They'd driven straight here from Niagra Falls, holy shit.) I squealed, tackled them, fed them and put them to bed.
They only intended to stay until Monday or Tuesday, but I am such a good hostess (and they were so sick of being on the road) that they extended the stay until yesterday morning. We went for walks. We saw UP (second time for Peter and me, first for Corey, we all got teary). We went to bookstores and thriftstores and junk shops. I met their friends Scott and Kayley, who just moved from Portland to a house only four blocks from mine, HOORAY new friends. We ate delicious meals; Japanese noodle shop Tanpopo, my cooking, Scott and Kayley's cooking, iccream at Izzy's, brunch at Luce (oh wow), takeout from Pad Thai, various bits snitched from Fireroast and impromptu breakfasts and snacks from my rather stretched larder. We hung out in a big group (Peter, Corey, Danielle, Scott, Kayley, Lindsay, Emily, and me), got very drunk, and played Never Have I Ever until we were all too hilariously intoxicated to remember any of the more incriminating details of things people had revealed. We danced until 3 one night, and stayed up equally late most other nights talking and laughing and being high and messing around. It was a wonderful wonderful visit. I almost cried when they had to leave.
During their stay and since they left, I've been fielding a few questions from bemused housemates about how exactly this friendship+ works, and how come no one's jealous, and doesn't it feel weird, etc. The answers: it seems to be working well, because everyone cares about each other, and no it doesn't feel weird it feels perfectly natural. Crypticness is cryptic... But I'm quite happy with this small corner of my personal life. And I'm certainly learning a lot from it.
In summary: hooray for wonderful visits, and I am so amazingly lucky in my friends.
And now I'm starting on a Week of Crazy, during which I will have to work nearly double the usual number of hours at Fireroast (we're catering a huge wedding next Saturday) and will also (I hope I hope I hope) start Japanese classes again at Macalester. And there are birthday parties springing up everywhere, and Evan visiting the cities this weekend, and I'm going dancing with Laney on Saturday, and the house is a mess and I have a to-do list a mile long, and wow I don't think life has ever had such a wonderfully high ratio of fun/stress.
There. That's me, mostly.
... And how are you all?