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Yes, my feet are killing me. I should seriously look into more support for my dancing shoes. They're marginally better than dancing barefoot (which I did at some point, to the regret of my toes), but I may need more cushioning.
Cushioning can only go so far, though. After all, I did dance for eight! hours!
Yes, there goes my exercise quota for the week. Hah. As if I'm going to be able to stay away from tango practica tomorrow, and the walk to Toastmasters on Tuesday... I should just figure out how to remove the athletic center from my fees. Or I should set aside time to go there and oh, use the exercise bikes...
Dancing was _tons_ of fun. I danced with a number of people, including a tango singer who performed at this show I saw last year. Dancing with a salsa teacher was particularly fun, as he kept introducing salsa tricks. Dips! Lifts! Vertical spins! (GWAAH!) It worked out very well, and Victor Hugo (the tango teacher and the DJ for this session) laughed and suggested that we practice for a show. A show!
As long as I don't neglect my studies and other things... =)
If I wake up late tomorrow, you know why.
On Technorati: tango
It felt so good to dance again.
I like dancing.
I like being able to walk backwards without looking, confident that my partner won't let me walk into obstacles. I like finding myself turning in response to the slightest push. I like listening, following.
I guess that's why I enjoy social dance more than any other form of dance. Social dance is a conversation between two bodies. A good dance allows me to feel that I've truly listened to someone, that someone knew how to talk to me and I knew how to understand him. How wonderful it is to be able to completely listen to someone without worrying that he'll take it the wrong way!
How much more wonderful would it be if the dance was just the background for another conversation? I think it would be nice to dance with someone I know. (And a _particular_ someone I know, at that... ;) )
Tango will probably be easier to pick up than swing. Tango's slower, and it's less about memorized steps than it is about flow. Or maybe a nice waltz...
Ah, waltzes. I remember Terry-sama and her husband, silver-haired but still spry, gliding across the special dancing floor in their basement. In their carefree dancing, I saw years and years of listening to each other. Wow.
I want to learn how to dance like that. It isn't about memorizing patterns. It isn't about moving quickly. Heck, it isn't even about getting the rhythm. It's about leading and following, speaking and listening... I want that. I want to learn how to _dance._