Despite how thoroughly awkward and clueless I am, I have decided that I quite enjoy swing dancing. Because my friends are fabulously cool, we set up our own little soiree last night (Tuesday) and danced until we could barely stand. If we keep doing things like this, I may eventually figure out how this swing dancing things works. In the meantime, I'm glad that the boys I know are exceedingly patient.
The last dance of the night was by far the most entertaining. This is what I get for being friends with music and theater majors. One boy was dancing with two girls at the same time. I'm glad that boys are generally in charge of leading, for being as inept at actual dancing as I am, I'm fairly certain that I couldn't have thought quickly enough to figure out how each girl needed to be spun or passed to keep us from colliding with each other or losing our grip. Don't worry. Someone got it all on video. I'll try to provide a way to see it within the next few days.
Not surprisingly, despite how physically and mentally exhausting my night of dancing was, when it was over, my face hurt more than anything. That's what laughing until you can't see straight does to you.
After we could dance no more, we headed over to a frozen yoghurt place with Hello Kitty all over their merchandise. My favorite was the little pink spoon. I almost kept it. What Hello Kitty has to do with froyo is beyond me, but then again, I also have no idea what Snoopy has to do with life insurance. I'm just not going to question commercial marketing decisions.
I filled my bowl with a mixture of Dutch Chocolate and Peanut Butter Cookie flavors. I considered topping it with peanut butter cups, but that just seemed like overkill. I went for chunks of Heath bar instead. It was marvelous!
Once we had our yoghurt, we sat outside together until well after midnight, enjoying fine company and what one guy described as a "balmy evening".
I spent what was left of the night with Laura. She is housesitting a small zoological garden. I have never seen such a large collection of exotic birds and rodentia in a domestic dwelling. And I didn't even get to see the lizard room. Naturally, most of them have more health problems than you can shake a vet bill at. Laura calls it "the special needs house".
I got quite the reception. The deaf dog, Scruffy, wouldn't stop barking at me unless one of us was touching him. While I was petting the chinchilla, she tried to gnaw on my thumbnail. And the cat. Oh my goodness, this cat. Imagine, if you will, a little smokie with broken toothpicks stuck in for legs and a tail. At this scale, the head is about the size of an M&M, but of course, more spherical. As if these odd proportions weren't enough, Sushi's face is the pièce de résistance. Her nose and mouth are minuscule, even for a cat, which only serves to make her eyes seem that much more enormous. Even without this facial imbalance, in relation to her skull, she makes ostrich eyes look reasonably sized. It's like someone took the classic image of an alien and translated it onto a cat. Naturally, she spent the entire night rubbing her face against mine. She couldn't have contented herself with rubbing against my leg or something. No, she had to give me Eskimo kisses or whatever it was she was going for. At one point she was even laying across my neck. Do you know what it's like to be woken up every half hour and find yourself staring into the most massive eyes known to felinity? It's downright unnerving. That's probably why I found it so hilarious.
I was just in a mood to laugh yesterday.
And on that note, have some Mary Poppins.
Listening to: "I Love To Laugh"
Reading: Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson