Back in the swing of things (ha).
Spent this weekend reacquainting myself with the pleasures this country has to offer. Friday night my mom, my sister, and I went to a screening of the best British TV commercials since 1975. It's extraordinary how much the technology for making commercials has changed in the past 25 years--the talking animals from the late 70's were hilarious. And yet the basic requirements of a good commercial haven't changed at all; surprising twists, humor, and cuteness still reign.
Saturday I reconnected with a bunch of high school friends, and realized that time warps do exist outside of Star Trek. All it takes is a bunch of people whose basic relationships to each other haven't changed in seven years and, hey presto, a rip in the space-time continuum, allowing you to party like it's 1999 only with more alcohol. Strangely, it was more melancholy than satisfying.
Yesterday I helped Katie and Dustin, the people from Stanford who I met a few weeks ago, teach a lindy hop lesson to a bunch of varyingly talented high school students. Seriously, some of these kids could hold their own in the bay area swing scene, and some of them still can't remember to rock step. It's going to be wicked fun to take over for a couple weeks when Katie and Dustin leave. I think a little Jitterbug Stroll is in order.
After swing, I indulged in another Great American Pastime: my dad, my sister, and I tossed the ball around at my old elementary school. That's right, the rain has let up for the first time since I have been home, and we were able to while away the last few hours of daylight to the comforting thwack, thwack of ball into glove. Ah, how I missed it.
Saturday I reconnected with a bunch of high school friends, and realized that time warps do exist outside of Star Trek. All it takes is a bunch of people whose basic relationships to each other haven't changed in seven years and, hey presto, a rip in the space-time continuum, allowing you to party like it's 1999 only with more alcohol. Strangely, it was more melancholy than satisfying.
Yesterday I helped Katie and Dustin, the people from Stanford who I met a few weeks ago, teach a lindy hop lesson to a bunch of varyingly talented high school students. Seriously, some of these kids could hold their own in the bay area swing scene, and some of them still can't remember to rock step. It's going to be wicked fun to take over for a couple weeks when Katie and Dustin leave. I think a little Jitterbug Stroll is in order.
After swing, I indulged in another Great American Pastime: my dad, my sister, and I tossed the ball around at my old elementary school. That's right, the rain has let up for the first time since I have been home, and we were able to while away the last few hours of daylight to the comforting thwack, thwack of ball into glove. Ah, how I missed it.