More dancing please
Well, it has been a bloody depressing week, for reasons which I won't go into detail about now, but for a change have nothing to do with K. BUT... tonight was actually very good.
I was prepared for the weekend to be even worse, because I really, really, REALLY wanted to go to this Wiccan priesthood retreat, but ended up not being able to afford to, even though someone volunteered to subsidize me at the last minute -- by that point, I'd already realized that the financial hole I was in was deep enough that I couldn't afford not to spend the long weekend working.
But then I heard from another person beginning with K -- oh, all right, her name can go in here, it's Kat, or palemistress here on LiveJournal -- a friend who has been trying for months now to drag me out to a local goth club where she works as a cage dancer. And I've always either had time conflicts or just not felt up to it. It's been years since I used to go to clubs at all regularly, and now I feel kind of old and severely out of the loop, so the idea made me a bit nervous. Also, although other people frequently refer to me as a goth, I've never felt entirely comfortable with the label myself.
When she'd asked me earlier this week if I'd go with her this weekend, I had said that no, I'd be out of town on the retreat. But then when I talked to her yesterday, I was complaining bitterly about not being able to go to the retreat, and she said "Well, at least that means you can finally go to Savage with me!" And I realized that, well, yes -- this time I could. And I really had no excuse not to, since I had no other commitments this weekend due to having planned to be away.
So I went. I was incredibly nervous, and she kindly offered to come out and meet me so that I wouldn't be wandering around in an unfamiliar club by myself trying to find her. As soon as we got inside, she had to go for a dance shift, so after a hasty round of introductions, I was left at a table with her friends, none of whom I knew. It was a bit awkward at first, but everyone was really nice, and eventually I got over my nervousness, and ended up having a really good time.
I did feel a bit like one of those characters in faerie lore who gets taken off to the otherworld for what seems like a short time, then returns to find that hundreds have years have passed and everything's different. I didn't recognize the majority of music being played, though I did like most of it, and I realized how many of the skills I used to take for granted, like being able to understand what people were saying over loud music or thread my way through a crowded dance floor, had atrophied over time. But by the end of the evening, I was feeling perfectly at home.
The best part was dancing, to music I actually liked (I hate most dance music). I have a certain Dionysian side to me, and can really lose myself in music and dance almost like entering a trance, and that was really happening on the dance floor. And I realized just how much I love dancing, and just how rarely I actually get to do it.
When people were getting ready to leave at the end of the evening, and I was exchanging the usual nice-meeting-you's with the people I'd met that night, a few of them said "See you next week?" And I thought, yes. I think you'll see me next week.
I was prepared for the weekend to be even worse, because I really, really, REALLY wanted to go to this Wiccan priesthood retreat, but ended up not being able to afford to, even though someone volunteered to subsidize me at the last minute -- by that point, I'd already realized that the financial hole I was in was deep enough that I couldn't afford not to spend the long weekend working.
But then I heard from another person beginning with K -- oh, all right, her name can go in here, it's Kat, or palemistress here on LiveJournal -- a friend who has been trying for months now to drag me out to a local goth club where she works as a cage dancer. And I've always either had time conflicts or just not felt up to it. It's been years since I used to go to clubs at all regularly, and now I feel kind of old and severely out of the loop, so the idea made me a bit nervous. Also, although other people frequently refer to me as a goth, I've never felt entirely comfortable with the label myself.
When she'd asked me earlier this week if I'd go with her this weekend, I had said that no, I'd be out of town on the retreat. But then when I talked to her yesterday, I was complaining bitterly about not being able to go to the retreat, and she said "Well, at least that means you can finally go to Savage with me!" And I realized that, well, yes -- this time I could. And I really had no excuse not to, since I had no other commitments this weekend due to having planned to be away.
So I went. I was incredibly nervous, and she kindly offered to come out and meet me so that I wouldn't be wandering around in an unfamiliar club by myself trying to find her. As soon as we got inside, she had to go for a dance shift, so after a hasty round of introductions, I was left at a table with her friends, none of whom I knew. It was a bit awkward at first, but everyone was really nice, and eventually I got over my nervousness, and ended up having a really good time.
I did feel a bit like one of those characters in faerie lore who gets taken off to the otherworld for what seems like a short time, then returns to find that hundreds have years have passed and everything's different. I didn't recognize the majority of music being played, though I did like most of it, and I realized how many of the skills I used to take for granted, like being able to understand what people were saying over loud music or thread my way through a crowded dance floor, had atrophied over time. But by the end of the evening, I was feeling perfectly at home.
The best part was dancing, to music I actually liked (I hate most dance music). I have a certain Dionysian side to me, and can really lose myself in music and dance almost like entering a trance, and that was really happening on the dance floor. And I realized just how much I love dancing, and just how rarely I actually get to do it.
When people were getting ready to leave at the end of the evening, and I was exchanging the usual nice-meeting-you's with the people I'd met that night, a few of them said "See you next week?" And I thought, yes. I think you'll see me next week.