This past Saturday I was finally able to find someone with a truck and move in with Steve and my brother in Sandy. Not everything is unloaded yet, and I need to find a new computer desk and make a trip to the store to stock up on groceries, but I'm pretty well set up. I was also somewhat suddenly and unexpectedly invited by Shelly to a toga party that night, but moving took significantly longer than I expected it to (even trying to live minimalistically I have way too much crap), so I had to take a rain check and promise (again) to invite her to the next party at my place.
Yesterday saw me sleeping in 'til almost noon (which isn't quite so condemning when one factors in I went to bed at 3) did a lot of discussing plans and such with Steve without really accomplishing much of anything, then went with he and his girlfriend to the Utah Arts Festival in the evening. There wasn't much of interest to me as far as wares, and what few things there were were far beyond my price range. There were, however, people in out in abundance to be watched, which kept me entertained throughout most of the night. We saw a troupe of belly dancers who I thought were rather good (not to mention attractive), there was a sort of dance and fashion show that was mildly interesting, a ballet performance on one stage and a Caribbean-style band on another, a capoeira and samba fire-dance show we didn't manage to see, all topped off by a late-night performance by the Preservation Hall Jazz Band. By the end of their performance there were only a few stuffy farts still in their seats, and almost the whole time they were playing I was itching to get up and dance, and would have given just about anything for a swing partner. A few other folks did get up and put on a show for us, which I applauded wholly.
By far the best part of the night, though, was at the end of their performance when I finally managed to muster up the courage to approach a girl I'd had my eye on since just after they'd started playing. She was standing off to one side of the stage when I first noticed her, back to the lights so I couldn't see her very well, but it was obvious she was cute regardless of the obscuring shadow. I was grinning like a fool at the general mood the band was creating, and when I looked at her a few times I would swear she looked and smiled back at me (despite my being just another face in the crowd, I'm sure), which I think was the motivator I needed. At any rate, as the band was wrapping up their last song, I bit the bullet. Her name was Courtney, she doesn't know how to swing dance either (I do know East Coast Swing, but given the fact the only people who do that style are couples over 70 and dance troupes in competitions, I consider myself essentially ignorant), and when I asked if she'd like to learn together she turned me down. /rueful grin Still, given my history with approaching girls (that is to say, never doing it), I considered it a victory all the same simply for being able to grab the bull by the horns and making it happen.
After last night, I've become keenly aware of a distinct absence of dancing in my life over the past several months. Now I finally live in the Salt Lake valley and it's not a 45 minute trip to the MAC, I'm thinking I may look into taking the various style lessons they offer.
