Three readings to read, two cases to analyse and multitudes of aliens warring in my mind. And yet my fingers are heavy with words. So heavy that they won’t do anything else but emptying it out.
So here we are. One month marks the date after I signed up for the mobile service. Just plonked (don’t look up the word, I just made it up) another $60 into my mobile phone since it will run out tomorrow. One month, and this is what’s running through my veins at the moment.
Salsa. The dance. Not be mistaken with the food. Salsa oh salsa. How did it manage to sneak back into my life… Went on two nights dancing the night away to the hyper-sensual rhythms and have not been disappointed so far. The men, as always, are plentiful. They come in all variety. The tall, the short, the young, the old, the cute, the handsome, the so-so, the sweaty. But I find myself not caring much with who they are and what they do for a living. In the salsa mix, you dance, and that’s the only reason you’re there. Their skills range from the few-same-tricks-over-and-over-again to the omg-he-spun-me-so-much-I-can’t-see-straight to the awesomest-smoothest-dancer-ever. And dance with all of them I did. So how does it work, you may ask? Well, most salsa clubs work this way. There’s the dance floor, the dj put on some tunes and whoever’s standing on the side of the dance floor is signaling that they’re up for a spin. And normally the guys ask for the girls’ hands, which is if a welcomed breeze from the typical come-and-grind-and-see-if-you-grind-back club dancing, but the other way works as well. I too have asked a few guys for a dance, as salsa is all about how good the guy could lead; you tend to quickly pinpoint the few that are exceptionally good and try to squeeze at least a dance with him. The dancetiquette, just learnt this from a swing dancer, of social dancing is that if you so choose to reject a dance offer by saying that you are still resting, you’ll have to sit out the whole song as not to offend the requestor. Fair enough, I must say. The friendliness of the whole environment had led me to come to one of the clubs on my own just three nights ago. And soon enough I made two new friends who actually met up from a salsa meetup group. And that’s how I found the first inkling that LA may just have a little love left for me. The lost angels haven’t robbed her dry as of yet.
Ballet. Hiking. The parties. The sun. The exchange students. The ever new and inspiring Twitter buddy. J The fake ‘Aussies’ (friends from Aussie who aren’t really Aussies). The roomie. The friendly bus driver. I could write a mile for each and every one of them but that would mean me not doing any schoolwork. Yes I do schoolwork here, won’t you just wait ‘tillI write how little sleeping I had this past week! Well, well, one month into and I may like it just a little bit more than before.
…and the journey continues…