Doctor, doctor, can't you see I'm burning, burning
This weekend has been especially busy, but in a fun way. Friday afternoon
mistymarshall gave her dissertation on something involving the hippocampus and neurons in mouse brains (I understood no further than that, and I'm just going to have to be OK with that) and then there was a reception for her, and then many people went to have drinks and dinner with her, and then there was karaoke until the wee hours, and much drunken singing. I participated in the singing and the silliness, if not the drunken part. But it was way funner than anything else I could have been doing that evening. And now Misty is Dr. Misty. And there's Dr. Janet, who we were celebrating, too. She just got hers last month.
Saturday daytime was dance class - modern with only two people in it. My instructors dance troupe is having a performance this weekend and next (go check out Exit Space for details on the Northwest Dance Syndrome concert) and so many of the performers who take that class decided to opt out in favor of only taking barre at the ballet clas before it, and then there are the flakes who just didn't show up. But the two of us who did ended up working extra hard - with fewer people, there are fewer rests as you wait for other groups to go across the floor. We did a lot of upside down work, handstands and cartwheels and monkeys and half moons - just think of different ways you can do handstands but incorporate them into dance, really. My arms are sore. My calves are sore. My shoulders are tender, and will probably be really sore tomorrow. All right. Added into Wednesday's advanced modern craziness that involved pirouettes that dropped one legged down to a roll (no hands, no hands! Keep the hands UP!) to a crouch on one knee and then dive the head down, up back, turn quick to roll over back, plant the hands, hips in the air to monkey UP, feet back down to roll and stand, step back, passe and back layout, step forward into a jump ... er. Bruises and skinned feet and ankles, is all I'm saying. But in a good way. There would have been fewer bruises had I been more skilled at certain diving backwards into a rollover my knees thing. It shouldn't have been hard. But my hips just wouldn't let me do it right, and I kept getting stuck over the one knee, grinding it into the floor when I should have been gliding over it instead. Ah, well. This is why we have class. To hurt ourselves so that we can better ourselves. Or something.
Then last night there was an actual planned party for the two Drs, with cocktail dresses (which I forgot about, and so was not appropriately dressed. But my shirt was purple and shiny, so that just will have to do) and silliness and more drunken silliness, but less with the singing. It's probably just as well I didn't wear a cocktail dress, as it turns out, because my legs are fairly banged up from teh dance classes, with the really ugly bruises on my knees and shins, which are generally shown off in a cocktail dress. So perhaps purple shiny shirt was the better part of valor. I danced around a little there, but really, who could stop me? B should have some good quotes for random quote tuesday. Much laughter ensued at random people, to keep with the theme. I was up way too late both nights. I am bushed, is what I'm saying. But happy. Er, however, my house is in a state, and while it may be Washington, it isn't pretty. So I'm off now to do some general cleaning with the iPod turned way up on my Happy Happy Joy Joy playlist, because happy songs make cleaning go faster. Hope y'all have been having a good time, too.