Monday, January 16, 2006


I had some time in a cafe on Monday afternoon to write this post out longhand, so it's a little longer than usual.

Scott came over on Friday evening and we had takeout from Astor for dinner. I had plans to go out dancing at Nation with Giles and Kenneth, and I really wanted to flake out - it would have been so much easier to stay home. But somehow I managed to get myself gussied up and out the door. I metroed down to SE, found the club and met up with Giles and Kenneth shortly thereafter. I wasn't sure what to expect - if it would be okay to show up in jeans and sneakers, who I'd be dancing with, etc. It turned out to be a pretty neat, diverse crowd - there were women in cargo pants and bras, in mini skirts and furry boots, in funky tights and neckties. Great people watching.

There were three different spaces for music. We started off with drum and bass but circulated through house and the progressive trance lounge upstairs during the course of the night. At first, I felt awkward, conspicuous and totally out of my element. But before too long, we began to feel the effects of the tequila shots Kenneth ordered for us, and Giles ordered us out into the middle of the dance floor. It's like trying to go swimming in a cold lake: jumping in is much better than wading in. It's a shock to the system, but you've got no choice but to adjust and go with it. Once I stopped watching the people around me (although there were some amazing dancers who were really fun to watch) and just focused on the music, I felt great. There were times in all three rooms when I felt like the music took over and I didn't have to think about dancing at all - my body just knew what it wanted to do. A pretty incredible feeling.

We started dancing around 11:30, took a break at 1:30, got our second wind and finally left sometime around 2:30. Giles could have stayed longer - he was still going strong from his 1:30 Red Bull - but kindly conceded to Kenneth's and my exhaustion. We got to Bob and Edith's Diner in Arlington around 3:00. It was packed, but we got a table right away. Three omelets later, we were on our way home. I washed as much smoke out of my hair as I could and crawled into Scott's bed at 5:00.

I woke up to an incredibly windy Saturday. The National Weather Service actually put a wind advisory out later that day that lasted until Sunday evening. But it didn't stop our Winter League game. We won 15-6, but it was by no means an easy victory. Countless turnovers and trying to run in the mud made it a pretty tedious game. My bike home was almost miserable. I was tired from 3 great hours of dancing and from 4 short hours of sleep and from all the running around, so riding uphill into a ferocious headwind was seriously unpleasant (but kind of funny at the same time - I can't remember ever riding in wind so strong that it threatened my balance). I had a pretty peaceful, recovery-oriented afternoon at home and made my way up to Rosemont at 6:30 for a murder mystery dinner.

** Background info: Rosemont is a 7-person group house, sort of a sister to Delafield, the group house where Scott lives. Every year, the residents of Rosemont and Delafield use the 3-day MLK weekend as an opportunity to invite out-of-town friends in for a weekend of reunioning (reuning? reuniting?) and partying. This mystery dinner was only one of several scheduled events. **

I got to see Scott stunningly transformed into a French maid - heels, garter belt, bustier, long blonde wig, false eyelashes, the whole nine yards. He was the belle of the ball, in my humble opinion. The mystery (written and directed by Nina) was witty and entertaining. The meal was excellent, especially given the fact that it fed something like 75 guests. Some dancing ensued, but I think most people were saving up their dance energy for Sunday night.

We didn't get to bed terribly late on Saturday night but slept in until 10 on Sunday. We went up to Scott's house for a big pancake breakfast. (Big in terms of the number of people served and in the size of the pancakes. Margaret said they approached Paul Bunyan flapjack status.) The afternoon was as lazy as Saturday's - Japhet and I gnawed on part of Friday's NYT crossword puzzle, I barely avoided a double skunking in an extremely unlucky cribbage game against Matt, I napped for at least an hour, and I was foiled at the grocery store when I was about to get in line to check out and realized I didn't have my wallet with me. I sheepishly returned my fewer-than-12 items to their shelves and went home just long enough to fold laundry and dig out my favorite party pants. They were a 2001 birthday gift, one of the best I've ever received. They've got black and hot pink tiger stripes. And they're furry. It's nearly impossible to wear them and not have a great time dancing. I headed back to Delafield where dinner started at 6. (Again, amazing food despite the mass quantities. Mansir's ginger tofu was my favorite part.) By 8, the food and furniture had disappeared, lighting rigs and amps had been set up and the house was shaking to the Black Eyed Peas' "Let's Get It Started."

I'd been looking forward to this party for months, and it exceeded my expectations. The playlist included my favorites songs and a bunch of new ones that I need to add to my repertoire. The dance floor was packed until 1:30, and the rest of the house must have been as well, as there were 200-some guests in attendance. The dance floor opened up a little after 1:30 when people started trickling out, but it was still alive and kicking (vigorously) when Scott and I took off at 3:30. I bet I danced at least 6 hours altogether.

We slept in this morning, ate more big pancakes at Delafield, and helped get the place looking shipshape again. Nate and Jess invited Scott and I to a coffeeshop for an afternoon of work. The three of them laptopped while I did the NYT crossword and wrote this post. Scott's imminent departure for Guatemala makes today bittersweet. He leaves Tuesday and will be gone for two or three weeks. I'm going to miss him a bunch, so it's nice to have a pretty low-key last day with him.

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