FunWheeThumpOw
Arisia good. Friends good. Dance good. Johny Zed DJ good. Johny Zed not dancing bad. Experimental swing dance good. Landing on heels bad. Need sleep.
Arisia was a lot of fun, and I wish I could have spent the entire weekend there. We got there around noon yesterday, and I had a marvelous time rediscovering old friends. Apparently I make much more of an impression than I ever would have imagined, since the day was filled with people I didn't really remember too well hurrying up to me to remind me of the one time we met six or seven years ago. It's a bit startling, a bit scary, and a lot flattering, and I've got a lot more email-pen-pals now than I did 48 hours ago.
I didn't actually make it to a lot of the official functions; I was too busy catching up on socializing. The masquerade was actually a bit of a let-down; there were only 11 entries, and none of them novices. So of course I decided that I need to enter next year. I don't know what or how, but I'll figure something out.
The dance was amazing, once it finally started. The lighting crew wanted everything perfect, and delayed the start by almost an hour futzing with gels and spotlights. It wasn't worth the wait, but that's just because not waiting would have meant an extra hour of dancing. The DJ was an acquaintance of mine, and an amazing dancer, which was unfortunate - while he played some excellent music, I was left stranded in an ocean of White Boy Bop dancers with no rhythm. I still managed to have fun, though. The music was a near-perfect mix of gothic-industrial, techno, and 80's pop that kept me on the dance floor until I nearly collapsed from exhaustion.
At one point, I was dancing with a friend of mine who does Contact Improvisation, and an incredibly bouncy jitterbug tune came on. After we burned up the floor twisting and spinning, I decided to try a step I'd wanted to practice for a while. We spun back-to-back, locked arms, and he dipped and flipped me over his back. It was beautiful; it worked perfectly.... until I landed. Flat on my heels, no shock absorbers. I hyperflexed both ankles and probably avoided compression fractures by entirely too narrow a margin. No more dance for Becky that night.
It's about 18 hours later, and I'm still hobbling a bit, but the pain is fading and the fun remains as strong in my memory. New friends, old friends, no sleep, sore feet. All in all, a good con.
Arisia was a lot of fun, and I wish I could have spent the entire weekend there. We got there around noon yesterday, and I had a marvelous time rediscovering old friends. Apparently I make much more of an impression than I ever would have imagined, since the day was filled with people I didn't really remember too well hurrying up to me to remind me of the one time we met six or seven years ago. It's a bit startling, a bit scary, and a lot flattering, and I've got a lot more email-pen-pals now than I did 48 hours ago.
I didn't actually make it to a lot of the official functions; I was too busy catching up on socializing. The masquerade was actually a bit of a let-down; there were only 11 entries, and none of them novices. So of course I decided that I need to enter next year. I don't know what or how, but I'll figure something out.
The dance was amazing, once it finally started. The lighting crew wanted everything perfect, and delayed the start by almost an hour futzing with gels and spotlights. It wasn't worth the wait, but that's just because not waiting would have meant an extra hour of dancing. The DJ was an acquaintance of mine, and an amazing dancer, which was unfortunate - while he played some excellent music, I was left stranded in an ocean of White Boy Bop dancers with no rhythm. I still managed to have fun, though. The music was a near-perfect mix of gothic-industrial, techno, and 80's pop that kept me on the dance floor until I nearly collapsed from exhaustion.
At one point, I was dancing with a friend of mine who does Contact Improvisation, and an incredibly bouncy jitterbug tune came on. After we burned up the floor twisting and spinning, I decided to try a step I'd wanted to practice for a while. We spun back-to-back, locked arms, and he dipped and flipped me over his back. It was beautiful; it worked perfectly.... until I landed. Flat on my heels, no shock absorbers. I hyperflexed both ankles and probably avoided compression fractures by entirely too narrow a margin. No more dance for Becky that night.
It's about 18 hours later, and I'm still hobbling a bit, but the pain is fading and the fun remains as strong in my memory. New friends, old friends, no sleep, sore feet. All in all, a good con.