"Normal" is a town in Alabama.
Fri, Mar. 21st, 2008 03:10True yet pointless confessions time:
I don't get "dancing".
Don't you get bored?
It's basically getting fancied up in uncomfortable clothes to go to a crowded, loud location, and exercise.
I sure get bored after a few minutes. Sure, I've got a couple cute guys to dance with, but I swear I can see their brains disengage and leave an automated subroutine in charge. For all I know, they're in there napping.
We went dancing last D*C at the Whedonverse track's Shindig. Most memorable moment: some girl who'd been several feet in front of me before I turned to face my guys, within a verse and a half was pressed up so tight against me that her coat-covered tush kept yanking on my hair. I eventually had to turn around and explain to her that I really didn't have any more room to move away from her, I can only brace against so much momentum in these particular boots, the hair really is attached to my head, and I'm not the kind of lass that fancies rubbing butts with another lass, nothing personal. She was shocked that I objected -- was it specifically that I was objecting, or more a surprise that I was human, i.e., not a convenient-yet-strangely-shaped chair? I don't know, but she and her girlfriend found a more open space for their jump-based dancing, and were happy; and shortly afterward, suspecting I'd just heard one of the guys actually snore, I called the evening on account of naptime.
I've seen the sort of dance that's a true artistic expression, and I admire it as a work of beauty. But I swear, I must be lacking something, because when I go to the concert-based "dance club" dances, after ten minutes I find myself mentally reviewing the next day's schedule, and RP or fluff plots that are coming due for enhancement, and whether we have enough clean towels for pre-bed showers AND morning freshenups.
What'm I missing here?
I don't get "dancing".
Don't you get bored?
It's basically getting fancied up in uncomfortable clothes to go to a crowded, loud location, and exercise.
I sure get bored after a few minutes. Sure, I've got a couple cute guys to dance with, but I swear I can see their brains disengage and leave an automated subroutine in charge. For all I know, they're in there napping.
We went dancing last D*C at the Whedonverse track's Shindig. Most memorable moment: some girl who'd been several feet in front of me before I turned to face my guys, within a verse and a half was pressed up so tight against me that her coat-covered tush kept yanking on my hair. I eventually had to turn around and explain to her that I really didn't have any more room to move away from her, I can only brace against so much momentum in these particular boots, the hair really is attached to my head, and I'm not the kind of lass that fancies rubbing butts with another lass, nothing personal. She was shocked that I objected -- was it specifically that I was objecting, or more a surprise that I was human, i.e., not a convenient-yet-strangely-shaped chair? I don't know, but she and her girlfriend found a more open space for their jump-based dancing, and were happy; and shortly afterward, suspecting I'd just heard one of the guys actually snore, I called the evening on account of naptime.
I've seen the sort of dance that's a true artistic expression, and I admire it as a work of beauty. But I swear, I must be lacking something, because when I go to the concert-based "dance club" dances, after ten minutes I find myself mentally reviewing the next day's schedule, and RP or fluff plots that are coming due for enhancement, and whether we have enough clean towels for pre-bed showers AND morning freshenups.
What'm I missing here?