A quiet night, a stack of books, a tuna melt on rye

Tonight is the first swing dance party of the season, which means that I am super, super excited.  The woman who runs the parties just opened her own studio, so no more over heated church with creepy resident in plaid pants glowering in the corner.  Yeah! Also, it looks like the parties might increase in number from once a month and also take on Argentinian Tango and Salsa in addition to swing.  Granted I do not know how to Argentinian Tango, and while I do know how to Salsa (and am probably better at it than swing) I'm not as huge a fan as most other people seem to be. 

I think my problem with the salsa (and the majority of the other latin dances) is that I don't regard myself as sexy in anyway.  Cute I can see, and graceful, while not a common state of mine, does poke through from time to time.  But sexy -- not really happening.  Which is why my favorite ballroom dances go in the order of 1. Jive, 2. Waltz, 3. other standards. Now if I could just find a class that would cover the dances I like, leave out the ones I don't, and meet every other week.  Yeah, I know, not terribly likely. 

    Tonight, it was once again time for the monthly swing dance party.  Also always I enjoyed myself.   Having now been to four of these things, I have come to the conclusion that every party has to have one creeptastic man at it.  Tonight we had a repeat, from the very first party I went to this time last year.  Arynne and I like to call him plaid on account of his very loud red plaid pants.  Plaid doesn't dance.  He does, however, live in the church where the swing  dances are held.  He like to come down stairs, eat our food, and stand in the corner staring all night.  Last time he said he needed to make sure that we weren't making too much noise, so the neighbors  didn't call the police.  This is not an overly loud crowd.  Tonight he did his general staring and kept offering water to this little old man who I think was Italian.  The guy was trying to dance and quite capable of getting his own water.  Which he told Plaid in an exasperated manner. 

I had one great partner who's name I regret not remembering.  He was at about my level and interested in learning new steps.  If I didn't know one of the ones he wanted to practice he took the time to show me.  A revolutionary idea, that I wish some of the more advanced dancers would adopt. 

Anyway, there is apparently a longer Lindy Hop workshop on the Sunday of my next four-day, so I think I will have to check it out. Since I can't take the weekly lessons, I'll take what I can get.  Anyone want to join me?

So excited! Now I know what I'm doing the nights of Dec. 30 and 31. Unfortunately, I wont actually be in town for any of the workshops. Also, here's hoping my plane back to NOLA on the 30th arrives on time.

Off to find dresses. Also to make a mask.

Went to the swing dancing party tonight, which is always a good time.  As usual I didn't get to dance nearly as much as I wanted, but there was a steady string of partners.  Even three with possible Chin The Second which I thinks marks my advent into intermediate dancing.  Yeah!

Also, there was possibly the most fugly outfit I've ever seen.  A man with dark blue jeans.  On top of the jeans he had sewn mock chaps.  Red with a light green star on the front of the left leg, light green with a red star on the right leg and the opposite on the back.  A matching vest. And a red fur cowboy hat with a red leather studded band which said "love slaves."  It was a  strange mix of kink and hoe down which didn't really do much for either set.  *shudder*

Then went to T's "Life's a Beach, Let's get drunk" party which was supposed to be a companion piece to his "White Trash Christmas Bash" held this summer.  I'm disapointed I didn't get there early enough to get a coconut to drink out of, but  I did, of course, get a lei.  Now I'm and feeling all floaty.  Yeah floaty. 

Went swing dancing/jiveing with glowwormtu in NOLA.  I love jive! So much fun.  Of course, now my calves hurt, and I'm really tired -- but in a good way.  

I've missed NOLA far more than I thought I did.  It was nice to drive down the streets I used to haunt.  Partake of favorite restaurants (NInja).  And even see a movie at the theater I always get lost on the way to.  (Pan's Labyrinth is very good, but has very graphic, disturbing violence - and I don't usually say that about a movie.  It also is in Spanish with subtitles, which is not really clear in all the press.)  I didn't get lost on the way, but once again we almost went over the Huey P. Long bridge on the way back.  My Premier drivng rule: NEVER GO OVER THE BRIDGE!