February 4 - Full Disclosure

It's funny the things we sometimes forget to mention to people who we haven't known very long as we're getting to know them. I was thinking about it the other day and I have approximately thirty-two years of dance experience in varying styles. No, I didn't study ballet at Julliard or anything, but I was a semi-professional lindy hopper for a while, and a collegiate shag instructor, and I studied tap, and I took ballroom lessons with my dad, and I took ballet as a kid. And when you put it all together, I've been dancing in one form or another for thirty-two years, give or take. But it's not the sort of thing you necessarily mention when you first meet someone. "Hi, my name is Kitty and I've been dancing for over three decades. Can I substitute the sweet potato fries for regular fries?" It doesn't roll off the tongue nicely. 

And what's really annoying is that things like this generally only come up in situations where sharing information like that makes you sound like a tool. Which is unfortunate because some of these things are things of which we should be proud. Keeping up with something for the decades is a big deal. But if I mention it in "polite" society, I sound like I'm bragging or pretentious. Oh well. 

For those of you keeping score, I've done loads of things in my life of which I am justifiably proud. And someday, maybe when I'm an old lady sitting on my front porch drinking lemonade, I'll be able to tell you about all of them without feeling like a jerk. 

September 24 - Tuesday

Tuesdays used to be my favorite.

Oh so many moons ago when I used to go out lindy hopping six nights a week, Tuesday night was the night to go out. There was a bar approximately three blocks from my apartment that I can scarcely remember the name of now (it has since changed owners, names, and decor) where some really awesome dancing happened. They had a back room that we would take over. Push the chairs out of the way, and cut a rug on the floor. All of my favorite dancers used to go there. It would get hot and sweaty and crowded; the men would bring extra t-shirts for when they sweated through the first one. We twirled and stomped and lindied and shagged and Balboaed and Shim-Shammed. It was glorious. Absolutely glorious. And since it was just blocks from my apartment, I could stay as late as I wanted and not worry about how I was getting home. I loved that place.

Rumors! Was that the name of the place? Rumors? Do any of my swing dancing friends read this blog who can verify that?

So I used to spend my week waiting for Tuesday to come so I could go dancing and see all of my friends. But things change, life moves on, and Rumors (if that was what it was called) closed down. The good dancing is now elsewhere on Monday nights, though I hardly recognize any of the faces I see on the dance floor now. And while I know I could dedicate the time and money to becoming a "regular" dancer again, I know that there are also other things in life that bring me more joy than the pursuit of becoming a nationally recognized lindy hopper. I just want to social dance from time to time.

And Tuesdays. Poor Tuesdays. Now they are just days to get through. A little better than Monday, not as good as Thursday. But they still have that faint aftertaste of the glorious days they once were, which makes them sadder now than Wednesdays. The day I used to love and wait for every week is now just another day, stripped of all of it's glory.

Maybe that's why I was so proud to get my tattoo on a Tuesday.

February 26 - Needs

There were things I had to do last night, and things I probably should have done, and things other people would have liked it if I had done, but last night, I needed to dance. I still did my laundry, I still did some cleaning in my apartment, I still spent time with my cat. But I heard that a couple of my friends (including one of my favorite dance partners) were going to be out dancing, so I thought I would stop by and say hello.

For those of you new to this blog, first of all, hi! Welcome! Did you know you can subscribe? Secondly, I used to lindy hop all of the time. Five or six nights a week. I traveled, did exchanges, organized an exchange, took workshops, studied, bought every vintage dress I could get my hands on, was part of a semi-professional lindy troupe for a short while, and was on the Chicago Shag Team that took second place in the Cabaret Division at ALHC. All of my friends used to be dancers. All of my free time used to be spent dancing. All of my spare brain power used to go into lindy hop. I'm not saying I was amazing at it - a lot of the top dancers in the country at that time didn't know who I was and if I asked them to dance socially, they would often spend the dance scanning the floor to see who they could dance with next. But in certain circles, I was known as a good dancer, and one with whom you would have fun dances.

But then life happened, and I had to do other things (be in plays, rehearse with my band, etc.) and the dancing kind of fell by the wayside. I would go out every now and again, but for the most part, the people out social dancing didn't inspire me to dance the way my contemporaries had, so I'll admit it - I lost interest in going out. I don't mind dancing with beginners - the way you learn is by dancing with those who know what they are doing. But I want to be challenged and have fun and be free to dance the way I dance when I go out, too. And starting from scratch to build up a reputation once again as a good dancer when the people you're dancing with are still struggling with finding the beat is exhausting. So I lost interest.

Last night, though, I decided I wanted to go see my friends. I was hoping for one good dance, and sort of psyched myself up to dance with as many people as possible. I was going to ask people, I wasn't going to turn anyone down. My first dance, I was asked and it...left some things to be desired. So I asked another partner for the next dance and had a lovely time. And then more and more of my friends from back in the day came in and it was so lovely to see them. Another of my favorite partners showed up and we had a lovely dance and a half. The dj played a bunch of old songs - things he knew I liked ten years ago - and a dance jam broke out. We did probably the worst sailor kicks I have ever done in my life because I was laughing too hard. And I have to admit, the current crop of dancers are pretty good. There were people having great dances all over the place. They were fun to watch and they made me want to dance with them. A few of them even asked me to dance, once they saw I wasn't a complete newbie. It was fun. I had fun. I needed to have that kind of fun.

My ankle was not pleased with me having that kind of fun, but it was worth it. I didn't realize how much I missed my friends until I saw them. I didn't realize how much I missed the joy of that kind of physical expression until I was on the floor with a solid, yet gentle lead. I didn't realize how much fun dancing could still be until I was out playing on the dance floor being silly and stupid. Of all of the things I needed to do last night, dancing was the most important. And thank you to my friends who danced with me, played music for me, and reminded me that I really am a dancer, even if I have to go live my life elsewhere from time to time.