i am becoming very, very addicted to dancing. wednesday nights are the highlight of most of my normality-seized summer weeks. or any weeks at any time of the year, that matter; they are only bested by plays, parties (blues), and/or amazing times with amazing friends (although the latterest usually occurs on wednesday nights).
more aerials. i was upside down in one and had my leg around skylar's neck in another (awkward, no? no, just lindy). a few less bruises, a bit more blues dancing. and it didn't stop at ten--i had the great fortune to be able to participate in the lindy bombing of the parking lot outside of applebeezy's. there were only a few of us, but we got some stares (and we didn't care--oh, corny rhyming). it was over the pavement that i was literally thrown into the two aforementioned aerial moves, and it was hard to twirl with my street shoes on, but nonetheless great fun, and a good way for building up an appetite.
the least you've said to me at any time that we've ever been in the same airspace: not one word.
just a cocky sideways grin in my direction. that's it. you didn't stay for very long, i noticed. and thought no more on it, since i was dancing with skylar and i needed to pay attention.
there is a blues workshop on the seventeenth. and another blues party on the eighteenth. i am completely and utterly excited.
and this is all i have to write about these days. except that i think that zachary quinto is the hottest vulcan i've ever seen steadily walk and logic across my line of vision. and that i'm about to buy a bicycle for september. but other than that, my life is mundane in the summer: work and working out. and dance.
lawd, but i'm finding less to be eloquent about in my writing than the per usual sob story about unrequited infatuation. excuse me while i put the mop away in the closet for a long while; i'm too busy being happy to clean up right now. and according to my mother, too busy to weedwack as well.
-d
Sunday Secrets
2 days ago
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