It can only be attributed to human error

It’s 2:50 am. An hour ago I finished watching 2001: A Space Odyssey with Jay, Andrew, Nihal, and Ashley. It was my second time through (though I’d mostly forgotten it from the first time I watched), and it made about as much sense as the first. I was much more impressed with it this time around, as Jay reminded me that it was made in the late sixties without blue screens—which makes some of those space scenes damn impressive.

As we all dance (and, indeed, I was invited to join them after a west coast swing lesson), we had fun imagining dancing a viennese waltz to one of the movie’s ten-minute songs. (Choice comments from me: “there better be people waiting to give you cups of water throughout the dance,” and “you darn well ought to get a standing ovation if you make it all the way to the end.”) Nihal nodded off to sleep a couple times throughout the film, so we got to experience portions complete with “person got bored and fell asleep” sound effects. Good times.

This went down in Weatherford Hall, so I got my first look inside the renovated building. They did a pretty damn nice job fixing up what was once a dilapidated shell of a residence hall.

As for the west coast swing workshop… I learned a sequence of moves that I’ll only remember because I bothered to write them down afterwards. I still won’t be able to do those moves reliably, as they start off with a free spin for the leads (to which I, like Pedro, say NOOOOOO!) that ends with the lead getting an arm around the follow’s back. Spinning is bad enough, but trying to get into a specific position in time for the next lead… oy. I surprised myself by not sucking every time I tried it—even I can spin successfully, if I’m lucky.

Kira said she liked watching the leads suffer, for once. I could do nothing but cry silent tears.


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