I should have been a cowboy

Yeeha!

Wednesday night's events were a new and definitely interesting experience. For the first time ever, I went line dancing! Jessica M. took me to an outrageously fun joint called In Cahoots last night and I had a grand old time. The bar offers lessons Wednesdays and Sundays; last night, the instructor taught "Good Times" and "Swamp Thing." She always starts with the hard dance first, since she takes a 30-minute break in between lessons; she knows that people will be drinking, since drinks are only $2, so she wants to make sure that the dancers are all at their sharpest for the first lesson.

Well. "Good Times" is one bitch of a dance. It's lots of fun to learn, but putting it all together to fast music is just ridiculously difficult. I was basically just shuffling my feet and trying to turn at the right time and end up facing the right direction. Yegods.

During the 30-minute break, Jessica and I got some drinks and watched the real cowboys and cowgirls out on the dance floor. One singles dance in particular, called "Dizzy," looked like tons of fun. The only couples dances I saw last night were the two-step and the "Cowboy Cha-Cha" - and they were simply gorgeous. There were these two older men who squired women around the dance floor (couples dances go in a circle around the floor), and they were just so charming and gentlemanly. All the men there, who were dancing anyway, looked like they were just trying to have a good time and were courteous to the women - no dance-rape during a line dance!

"Swamp Thing" is much more simple, consisting mostly of rock-steps and grapevines - lots of hip movements, in other words. So much more my forte than the complicated "Good Times." I plan on mastering that bitch, though. Jessica and I intend to out-dance all the other scrawny little girls in the coming weeks.

I was, surprisingly enough, not the only Asian person there. One of the older gentlemen I mentioned was an Asian man, and there were a couple of others who were tearing up that dance floor; I'd been a bit apprehensive prior to the outing, but as it turns out, I had nothing to fear. If anything, I was less noticeable than the white girls if only because I sat on the sidelines and observed instead of dancing.

I had plenty of fun watching the other dancers, however. Jessica kept a close eye on her man, and I shamelessly ogled all the other goodies out there.

Goddamn I need me a cowboy.

Sworn Enemies

I once swore that math was my worst enemy, mostly because I thought I was bad at it. And I am bad at it, in one sense. I detest things like geometry or trigonometry, because I don't like working with angles, proofs, theorems, and so forth. It doesn't make sense to me. Algebra, on the other hand, and I get along quite well, since it's logical. To me.
Simple things like balancing my checkbook, budgeting, and keep track of my expenses is fun - I like simple math. It's no problem (no pun intended) for me.
All along I thought I was terrible at math, and I developed a hatred for it because it made me look bad. Turns out, I'm not so bad at it after all. And really - what's the point of geometry anyway? (Structural engineers need not answer that question.)
Anyway, the point is that numbers and I will never have the same relationship that I do with words, but I guess we aren't really enemies either. Who'd have thought?