3/14/2003 09:27:00 PM [ link ]
My spring break was the best. But this isn't just a "What I did on my Spring Break" post, in the boring travelogue sense. (The boring travelogue part is contained entirely within these parentheses - I roadtripped with Sara and Jenny to Denver and swing danced all weekend long. All. Weekend. Long.) It's taken me a while to collect my thoughts together, but here they are:
on happy coincidences:
We arrived in Denver on Thursday afternoon, and met our host for the weekend, Alice. Immediately after we walked in the door, she said, "It's beautiful. Let's go hiking." So we did. We hiked up to Red Rock Ampitheater (of "Dave Matthews: Live at Red Rocks" fame). We sat, enjoyed the sun, and marvelled at the acoustics as a random guy played his guitar. Suddenly, Sara sits up and yells, "Hey! I know her!" Jenny and I realize we, too, recognize people. WashU people. Wheels turn in our heads... Hey, these people are all in the Mosaic Whispers!! Who would have guessed that during the half hour we spent at the ampitheater, WashU's most amazing acapella group would just happen to wander in and give us an impromptu concert?
on boys with wonderful smiles:
On Thursday night, we did some light dancing. Where by "light" I mean "four hours" as opposed to eight. Or ten. And there was this boy there who had this smile that made me want to fall over and die. Really, it was that good. But then later I realized that this boy was perfectly aware of the fact that his smile was of the sort that made girls want to fall over and die. What's more, he was using his smile. He would smile at people, not out of joy, but because of the reaction it caused. And that completely erased any of the charm that his smile might have had.
on clowns in a car:
On Friday afternoon we stuffed way too many people into a Subaru. We pulled up at a stoplight next to a little Asian man who did a double take. Squinted. Formed his mouth into a little 'O'. Raised his finger and began counting each of us. We graciously saved him the trouble by holding up 10 fingers in the window.
on subconscious desires:
I have this theory that even though "Hot in Herre" is a very silly song that was completely overplayed last summer, all swing dancers have had a growing secret urge to dance to it. On Friday night, I totally danced to it. While dressed in full vintage garb. And when it got to the part about "Checkin your reflection and tellin your best friend / like 'girl I think my butt gettin big' ", I totally turned around and gave my butt a critical stare.
on dancing geeks:
I have this other theory about geeks that dance (specifically, geeks of the "socially repressed boy" type). And I think there are two kinds. The first kind is quiet and nervous around girls, but when he learns to dance and gets really good at it, he gains confidence. He gets so good at dancing that all the girls really want to dance with him. And then it no longer matters that he's nervous about talking to girls, because he can just dance, and worry about the conversation later.
The second kind aspires to be like the first kind, but never gets good enough at dancing to actually gain any confidence. He gets stuck in this sad little rut where he's already afraid to talk to girls, and to make matters worse they don't like dancing with him because he isn't any good. Also, he hasn't managed to acquire a sense of fashion like the first type usually does.
There are actually a lot more of the first type (the success stories) than you might suspect.
on eye contact:
There are definitely two distinct kinds of eye contact I receive while dancing. The first kind, it's as if the guy is thinking "Hm. A lot of girls here are cute. You are one of them. I will take advantage of the fact that we are dancing to inspect all aspects of your cuteness. It is my right." This sort of guy usually thinks he's really smooth. You know what I think? I think he's creepy.
With the second kind, it's as if the guy is thinking "Wow. You are the most beautiful person in this room, and I can't believe I get to dance with you." Both sorts of eye contact are compliments. But only one makes me want to fall in love with the guy on the spot.
on acting skills:
After continually making wrong turns in the city of Denver (and continually driving tens of blocks in the wrong direction as every person in the car failed to notice the mistake), we found ourselves driving to the Sunday afternoon dance. In the wrong direction. To cover for our embarrasing mistake, we fabricated this totally unbelievable story involving a bear to explain why we were late. Because we didn't want everyone to know that we had gotten lost. Again. Some people even believed the story, that's the best part.
And then we drove home and on the way we swing danced in the middle of Burger King the end.
