I spent a long time deciding
IN front of the mirror, for an hour at least, break to eat, guessed what Tony was saying and then wrote with my right (off) hand a lot, and then right back to the mirror to figure out how to make a black and HOT PINK (sexy) toga for tonights toga party. Well, I made a black toga, the pink came from my exposed bra which i debated taking off for the thing. On one hand a bare back is less risque than blatant underwear, but at the same time my whole get-up was clipped together with safety pins. Oh, might I add there would be drinking?
Here's an interesting fact I forgot to bust out at the party; Roman women never wore togas unless they were shakin their junk at some Brutus walking by. It was a little skankay. Then some people showed up without any sort of togas whatsoever.
The party though not many people showed up, was a hit. I mean, with me at least. But anything with music and dancing is a hit with me. I'm so romantic it's sickening. It felt so nice to be up and dancing and talking with peoeple, FINALLY, my brain says, FINALLY YOU ARE GETTING OUT INTO THE WORLD. But I appreciate this, all the mutual hand washing etc. Jk.
The party: good. great. I didn't have to drink much and I danced lots. Tony can DANCE. Damn...and he said he's making it all up as he goes along. That's some improv. He must've learned small. All those tightly packed dendrites....then years later, they expand, they atrophy and dissapear and they're gone forever. French lessons at an early age or nothing. Dance isn't long off, though certainly not easy.
On the way back Tony and I ran back to hillcrest in the snow. All 5 inches of it, my feet were exposed pretty much all of them. My toga didn't reach the ground, and my legs and feet were simulatenously stinging and numb and red. I'm not that tired, but I am. I was shouting with song and now my voice is almost gone. I won't be hung over but I will feel this in the morning.
IT was an amazing night.
Here's an interesting fact I forgot to bust out at the party; Roman women never wore togas unless they were shakin their junk at some Brutus walking by. It was a little skankay. Then some people showed up without any sort of togas whatsoever.
The party though not many people showed up, was a hit. I mean, with me at least. But anything with music and dancing is a hit with me. I'm so romantic it's sickening. It felt so nice to be up and dancing and talking with peoeple, FINALLY, my brain says, FINALLY YOU ARE GETTING OUT INTO THE WORLD. But I appreciate this, all the mutual hand washing etc. Jk.
The party: good. great. I didn't have to drink much and I danced lots. Tony can DANCE. Damn...and he said he's making it all up as he goes along. That's some improv. He must've learned small. All those tightly packed dendrites....then years later, they expand, they atrophy and dissapear and they're gone forever. French lessons at an early age or nothing. Dance isn't long off, though certainly not easy.
On the way back Tony and I ran back to hillcrest in the snow. All 5 inches of it, my feet were exposed pretty much all of them. My toga didn't reach the ground, and my legs and feet were simulatenously stinging and numb and red. I'm not that tired, but I am. I was shouting with song and now my voice is almost gone. I won't be hung over but I will feel this in the morning.
IT was an amazing night.