Whew, I am tired today. Last night was a double-dose of dancing-- bellydance, then lindy. The new BD instructor, Jessica, is really nice. Gorgeous as all get out. She's going to work with us on veils and zils. Oh, props-- I look forward to several weeks of looking like the newly-undead while I struggle with my remedial hand-foot coordination. The first class was kind of 'meh,' though-- attributed mostly to the fact that she's just getting the feel for our class. We got to do some new group and mirror-work, which was challenging and good, but the musical selections got boring and uninspiring very quickly. I need something with a stronger beat, personally. We'll see how the next class goes.
As for the lindy-- Bridget and Kevin took me aside to show me the basic, which was... wow, it's hard to adjust a six-count to an eight-count and be able to negotiate back and forth between the two. Apparently I did a good job feeling the change, but I'm still stumbling a little over where to put my feet during the seven and eight counts of a swing-out. Anyway, the social dance went far better than anticipated-- for the most part, I kept up and caught onto the funky flashy jazzy weird moves after watching them once or twice. Everyone there was really nice-- it was a completely tension and competition-free space. I surprised myself by even being able to keep up with Chiles-- that instructor guy that Abby, Flissy and I constantly hear through the walls during BD ("five, six, a-five, six, se-ven, eight..." times eleventy-billion). I suppose that I shouldn't have been at all surprised that my feet actually left the ground several times during that dance-- I was dancing with Mr. Fancy McFlashypants, afterall. But I managed to not look flail-y and awkward, so go team me. However, by 11pm, I was totally, totally pooped out. I came home, threw myself in the shower, ate a few pieces of carb-restoring toast, then passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.
( Further headspace.Collapse )
Anyway, those were my Deep Thoughts of the morning. I shall offset it with the following quotes:
Conversations with Sara:
Things only heard at my house:
As for the lindy-- Bridget and Kevin took me aside to show me the basic, which was... wow, it's hard to adjust a six-count to an eight-count and be able to negotiate back and forth between the two. Apparently I did a good job feeling the change, but I'm still stumbling a little over where to put my feet during the seven and eight counts of a swing-out. Anyway, the social dance went far better than anticipated-- for the most part, I kept up and caught onto the funky flashy jazzy weird moves after watching them once or twice. Everyone there was really nice-- it was a completely tension and competition-free space. I surprised myself by even being able to keep up with Chiles-- that instructor guy that Abby, Flissy and I constantly hear through the walls during BD ("five, six, a-five, six, se-ven, eight..." times eleventy-billion). I suppose that I shouldn't have been at all surprised that my feet actually left the ground several times during that dance-- I was dancing with Mr. Fancy McFlashypants, afterall. But I managed to not look flail-y and awkward, so go team me. However, by 11pm, I was totally, totally pooped out. I came home, threw myself in the shower, ate a few pieces of carb-restoring toast, then passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.
( Further headspace.Collapse )
Anyway, those were my Deep Thoughts of the morning. I shall offset it with the following quotes:
Conversations with Sara:
Me: I hate your face.
Sara: I hate you more.
Me: LIES. You cannot hate me. I am rainbows and clouds and lollipops and fairy farts.
SO THERE. AND FAIRIES FART GLITTER. SWEET, SWEET, MAGNOLIA-SCENTED GLITTER.
Sara: I was just about to ask. Thank you for not making me say "what do fairies fart?"
Me: No problem.
Things only heard at my house:
Dixie: Christina, it is not creepy. It's the Dalai Lama.
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