Dancing report
Jul. 19th, 2005 02:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bramThe hardest song in the world to dance to, in a lyrically appropriate way, is "Stand" by R.E.M.
I tried my best, I really did, and I ended up looking a total nincomboob. Standing. Pulling the legs apart while standing. Standing in different directions. Look at me, I'm a standing fucktard. I did not look real charismatic dancing to that song.
Granted, it was part of a larger strategy. Everyone, because they had [Dr. Evil voice] "brains" [\Dr. Evil voice] in their heads, left the dance floor when that song started. I, of course, pursue open space on a dance floor relentlessly. I wanted to be in a good position for the following songs. Thus I grabbed the best spot and [Dr. Evil voice] "danced" [/Dr. Evil voice], in a stationary sort of way. Of course, being in the prime spot earned me a larger audience for my fucktardery.
But as you know, my prime directive when I dance is not to impress people, although that's nice. It's to be completely free.
There's only one thing that scares me when I step onto a dance floor these days. And that's the possibility that benzoyl peroxide fluoresces when illuminated by ultraviolet radiation.
The crowd was interesting. It was a relief after Friday's fiasco at Sky Bar. Perhaps I was paranoid, but I thought a lot of people had heard something about me, that there's this professor who goes out there sometimes and dances like a continuously electrocuted tasmanian devil trained as a dervish. Actually, I'm an ex-professor.
There was a large group there from the cafe. That means I may see them again because I go to the cafe frequently. Of course I'm incompetent at pickups, and come on, I must smell like ass with all that dried sweat on me. But I talked briefly with a very attractive shortish woman who I'd seen earlier that day in the cafe. She said it was her first time at the dance club. She was of intriguingly unclear ethnicity, like some kind of Armenian/Hispanic combination. There was also a taller woman, also a brunette, who had charismatic eyes. We'd talked when I exited the cafe earlier. As I mentioned, we had one of those Ohio monsoons as I walked to the cafe, and when I left, the remnant of a rainbow was still visible.
Of course I'm leaving town soon. But if a real connection with someone does happen, of course I would stay in touch, because that is rare.
I danced ok. I was a little out of shape, and I knew it going in. I didn't wear my tightest shirt in case my Like Handles (not quite Love Handles) poked out. The culprit of course is that I feel obliged to drink wine while watching "Sideways", which I've rented on DVD. I'm in my best shape when I abstain from alcohol entirely--although actually the main reason I even drink red wine at all is that it contains a powerful antioxidant called resveratrol.
Although I still dream of finding a theory of everything, or quantum theory of gravity, or an outline of a discrete model of quantum mechanics, I've got my head a little out of the clouds and focussed on something specific--not as meaningful to me, but more like a crossword puzzle. Continued fractions seem very interesting, and reading MathWorld entries I'm learning a lot about generalized hypergeometric functions, and how they relate to a whole world of math.
I tried my best, I really did, and I ended up looking a total nincomboob. Standing. Pulling the legs apart while standing. Standing in different directions. Look at me, I'm a standing fucktard. I did not look real charismatic dancing to that song.
Granted, it was part of a larger strategy. Everyone, because they had [Dr. Evil voice] "brains" [\Dr. Evil voice] in their heads, left the dance floor when that song started. I, of course, pursue open space on a dance floor relentlessly. I wanted to be in a good position for the following songs. Thus I grabbed the best spot and [Dr. Evil voice] "danced" [/Dr. Evil voice], in a stationary sort of way. Of course, being in the prime spot earned me a larger audience for my fucktardery.
But as you know, my prime directive when I dance is not to impress people, although that's nice. It's to be completely free.
There's only one thing that scares me when I step onto a dance floor these days. And that's the possibility that benzoyl peroxide fluoresces when illuminated by ultraviolet radiation.
The crowd was interesting. It was a relief after Friday's fiasco at Sky Bar. Perhaps I was paranoid, but I thought a lot of people had heard something about me, that there's this professor who goes out there sometimes and dances like a continuously electrocuted tasmanian devil trained as a dervish. Actually, I'm an ex-professor.
There was a large group there from the cafe. That means I may see them again because I go to the cafe frequently. Of course I'm incompetent at pickups, and come on, I must smell like ass with all that dried sweat on me. But I talked briefly with a very attractive shortish woman who I'd seen earlier that day in the cafe. She said it was her first time at the dance club. She was of intriguingly unclear ethnicity, like some kind of Armenian/Hispanic combination. There was also a taller woman, also a brunette, who had charismatic eyes. We'd talked when I exited the cafe earlier. As I mentioned, we had one of those Ohio monsoons as I walked to the cafe, and when I left, the remnant of a rainbow was still visible.
Of course I'm leaving town soon. But if a real connection with someone does happen, of course I would stay in touch, because that is rare.
I danced ok. I was a little out of shape, and I knew it going in. I didn't wear my tightest shirt in case my Like Handles (not quite Love Handles) poked out. The culprit of course is that I feel obliged to drink wine while watching "Sideways", which I've rented on DVD. I'm in my best shape when I abstain from alcohol entirely--although actually the main reason I even drink red wine at all is that it contains a powerful antioxidant called resveratrol.
Although I still dream of finding a theory of everything, or quantum theory of gravity, or an outline of a discrete model of quantum mechanics, I've got my head a little out of the clouds and focussed on something specific--not as meaningful to me, but more like a crossword puzzle. Continued fractions seem very interesting, and reading MathWorld entries I'm learning a lot about generalized hypergeometric functions, and how they relate to a whole world of math.
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no subject
Date: 2005-07-19 07:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-21 03:57 am (UTC)Is that any way to dance?
look at me...
Date: 2005-07-19 07:52 pm (UTC)"I tried my best, I really did, and I ended up looking a total nincomboob. Standing. Pulling the legs apart while standing. Standing in different directions. Look at me, I'm a standing fucktard..."
i am a huge R.E.M. fan, i completely detest that song, and the above quotation was just about the funniest goddamn thing i've ever heard...
thank you...
Re: look at me...
Date: 2005-07-20 12:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-21 02:57 am (UTC)The latest issue of Bitch quotes Judith Halberstam calling that movie, "Dude, Where's my Pinot Noir?"
no subject
Date: 2005-07-21 05:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-21 02:30 pm (UTC)Actually, I would hazard to guess that you smelled like dried sweat. Though admittedly the two aren't mutually exclusive, since I suppose asses can be covered with dried sweat just as easily as other body parts.
no subject
Date: 2005-07-21 05:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-22 02:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-23 01:10 pm (UTC)