Recently in Man-Crazy Category

I now have a name.  I think it's a nice name.  It rolls off the tongue.  It sounds quite nice.

Of course, I just googled it.  It's apparently related to that name.  Part of me wants to run away screaming.  But another part of me doesn't.

Ah well.  Just be friendly.  Being friendly is good.

Tonight, I ran out to Tilt to spend an hour or so dancing.  A few random thoughts from the experience.

1.  Young people who expect to get into a nightclub when they're too drunk to stand on their own are just silly.
2.  Friends who expect someone too drunk to stand on their own to wait in a car in 21 degree weather aren't very good friends.  And that's the nicest thing I can say about them.
3.  I love dancing.  I really need to remember that and go more often.
4.  It was nice to see Woody again.  It's been over a year.
5.  It was nice to meet Woody's rather cute friend.
6.  Apparently, I was rather obvious about #5.  I'd say "oops," but I'm not sure I really care.  As long as I didn't scare the poor guy away.

When I wrote my previous post in February, I didn't realize that it would mark the start of a two-month blogging break.  But life has a way of conspiring against us to keep us busy and away from our online ponderings, I suppose.

Work has been extremely busy and hectic, thereby sapping me of a lot of energy and motivation.  What little I had left of both generally went into dance classes at Park Avenue Dance Company or working on preparations for the dance company's annual benefit.  The latter turned out quite nicely, by the way.  By the time I got done with everything, I was ready to come home, kick back, watch a little television, and head for bed before the next day brought its hectic schedule to more doorstep.

Those who know me well, however, should realize that the last two months weren't all work devoid of play, however.  I did manage to get in a few trips to Tilt for some great dancing.  (In a a future post, I hope to talk about the Elmira-based Club Chill, which I checked out last night while I was at my parents' home for the weekend.)  And the first weekend in April, Marina and I made another trip to Toronto, where we saw the Chimera Project in its performance of Blood.  The performance was fantastic, powerful, and highly athletic.  And Marina and I had front row seats -- seats close enough that I could've stood up and reached over to caress the chest of the extremely hot dancer that was lying on the front of the stage.  Let's just say I discovered how much self-restraint I had in that moment.

But now that I've had a bit of a break and things in my life seem a bit calmer, I've decided it's time for me to start posting again.  So with a bit of good fortune, I should start making a few more posts over the next week or so.  Because like the rising sun, I will always return.

I just don't have as regular an orbit as the sun.

(The photo in this image was taken by Jon Sullivan, who was kind enough to release it to the public domain.)

It's been a while since my last post. Unfortunately, life has been a bit crazy for the past few weeks. Between a crazy project at work, keeping up with dance classes, and fighting off what I can only assume was the stomach bug from hell, blogging has fallen quite low on my list of priorities. However, now that I have a half hour or so before I need to run to the company holiday party, I thought I'd take a few moments to write a bit about my adventure with friends to Toronto last Saturday.

Every year, my jazz instructor, Marina, goes to Toronto the Saturday after Thanksgiving. She had mentioned it to Rudi, who decided to go with her. At some point, they got the crazy idea to invite me. Having heard about these excursions from a couple different sources, I was all too eager to accept that invitation. So that morning, I crawled out of bed, into some clothes, and drove over to Marina's house. I was there by about 6:15. Rudi got there a half hour or so later, and we were on the road by about 7:00 that morning.

The drive up was pleasant and uneventful. We only made one stop, and that was at the border. This allowed us to exchange our currency and grab a quick breakfast at Tim Horton's. Then we went through the checkpoint and continued on our way to Toronto.

We were in the city by 10:30, so we parked in the garage across the street from the theater we'd be attending that evening and walked down to the facilities where DanceTeq teaches there classes. We arrive about forty five minutes before the modern class started. Class that day was taught by a substitute, Matthew Waldie. The class was too advanced for me (mainly due to the pace rather than complexity of technique), so I watched (which gave me plenty of opportunities to semi-secretly watch Matthew and pray the drool wasn't too obvious) while Marina and Rudi actually participated. Both struggled with the class at various points and Marina was particularly out of breath by the end of class. I actually took a certain amount of pleasure in that realization. After all, I saw in Marina's expression the same exhaustion and sense of pushing beyond her capabilities that I frequently feel when I take her class. So it's nice to see one of my instructors in that same space, herself.

After class, we did a bit of shopping. Of course, this meant walking from the waterfront to the major shopping areas in the city. Fortunately, I had the sense to pack a pair of decent sneakers. Shopping went pretty well, and I even managed to pick up a nice shirt, though I need to lose about another twenty pounds before it looks quite right on me. Unfortunately, the manufacturers of stylish clothing still haven't decided to let those of us in plus sizes look good. But I'll try not to rant too much about that.

After shopping, we made the trek back to the waterfront to grab a quick dinner and head to our show. We went to see "Lost Action" by the Canadian dance company, Kidd Pivot. The show was quite good, especially in terms of strength and technique. The company has four male dancers, and it's amazing to see the kinds of things a dance company can do with that kind of muscle. There was one scene in which all four guys worked together to lift one of the women and move her around the stage, twisting and turning her body. The fact that they did this without popping one of her joints out of socket -- let alone with deceptive ease -- was incredible.

The show itself was a bit confusing. "Lost Action" is an abstract performance piece, and I don't really do well with abstract art, at least not yet. One of the things that I took away from the performance was a sense that it involved a theme of enforced conformity, an observation that Marina and Rudi both felt made a lot of sense at the time. Of course, having just reread what Kidd Pivot says about the performance themselves, I'm not sure I was on base at all. Of course, Christine would point out that this is the beauty of dance. Different people interpret the same thing differently.

After the show, we made a quick, peaceful, and enjoyable trip back home. Rudi and I talked most of the way while Marina slept. Fortunately, she did wake up at the border so we could get across okay.

Overall, it was a fantastic trip and I look forward to making more of them in the future. I certainly couldn't have asked for better traveling companions, either. Hopefully, they feel the same way. (There was that one teasing crack I made to Rudi, though...)

After dance class tonight, I decided to stop at Equal Grounds for a chai latte and to say hi to friends. I doubt I was there a half hour even. The place was too crowded for my tastes. So I left as soon as I was done.

On my way out of the coffee shop, I passed this young man -- I'd guess he's in his early twenties -- and two female friends. As I walked past him to turn the corner, he started singing.

He was quite good, and based on the fact that he said something about an audition, I suspect he might be a music major or even a professional singer. Now, I'm a sucker for anyone who expresses artistic talent of any sort, and especially musicians. So as I heard him start to sing, I turned around, leaned against the building, and listened to him belt out a lovely melody.

About ten seconds into the song, he realized I was standing there. He did something of a double take, waved with a nervous smile, and turned his attention back to his friends, never wavering or pausing. (Like I said, he's quite a good vocalist.) After he finished his song, I waited for a break in his conversation with his two friends, and told him he had a great voice. He thanked me, and I turned to resume my walk to my car.

Like I said, I think I surprised him by stopping, and even speaking to him. But I figure if you have a talented voice and you choose to sing on a public sidewalk -- even just for friends -- you have to expect people to stop and listen. It only makes sense we're going to.

Especially if you're also downright adorable.

Tonight, I went to Red Lobster with Michele, Belinda, Amy, and Michele's younger daughter, Claire. We were served by a young man named Josiah.

Towards the end of our meal, one of the hostesses approached our table with a survey. She handed it to me and explained that it was regards to the meal I ordered, which is one of their new menu items. Someone (it might've been Michele) asked her if they had a comment card we could fill out in regards to Josiah. The young lady indicated that she didn't, but asked us if we were happy with him.

As I was feeling quite good and a little adventurous, I decided to have a bit of fun with my reply. I smiled and said, "I'd say he's a perfect ten. And he's done his job pretty well, too."

The hostess laughed for a second and then replied, "The irony is, he's actually my boyfriend." We all laughed, and Michele commented on both Josiah's and the hostess's good taste. Personally, I was inclined to admire the young lady's ability to take the whole situation in stride. (She didn't even hesitate or anything.)

Of course, wouldn't it just figure? Only I could get adventurous and make some comment about a guy, only to discover I'm basically telling his girlfriend I'd like to take him home with me. Oy!

Yesterday, I decided to run to Friendly's for lunch. The place was relatively empty, and I think there were only two servers working. Stef met me at the door and seated me. She asked me if I wanted a diet coke (a sign I go there way too often), to which I assented. As she headed back to the kitchen, the other server, a young man named Kyle, walked by and said he'd be right with me. Apparently, Stef had planned on waiting on me herself, so they had a brief conversation in the kitchen to decide who would actually take my table. (I love it when servers fight over me.)

Apparently, they eventually agreed that Kyle would be my server, because he walked over with my diet coke, introduced himself, and asked me if I was ready to order. I placed my order only to have him give me the perfect opportunity to tease him a little. After I ordered my food, he asked me if I wanted anything to drink. I laughed, glanced at the table, then looked back to him to politely ask, "You mean besides the diet coke you just brought me." He laughed in flustered embarrassment (I consider the fact that he didn't turn beet red nothing short of miraculous) and explained he was used to doing things in a certain order. I just smile and said I understood.

While we had been talking, I noticed a chain around his neck, so I looked closely at the two pendants hanging off it. This is a new habit I'm working on developing, as I'm realizing just how much a person's choice of jewelry or body art can offer an opportunity for conversation. I noted the crucifix (which, when combined with my estimate of his age, gave me enough reason to decide to keep things to a bit of fun chat and maybe some slight flirtation) as well as a large "55." So when he stopped by later to check on me, I inquired. As it turns out, he's a football player and that's his number. (Of course, we won't go into the thoughts of being tackled that suddenly came to mind.) He mentioned that it had been his number in both high school and now college. (Of course, I was relieved to confirm that he was at least in college. I'm much more comfortable with feeling slightly lecherous rather than downright criminal.)

When it came time for ice cream, I ordered the recently re-released the peanut butterpan sundae, so I ordered that. Kyle commented that he never tried that one. I said I had it last time they offered it and loved it. I mentioned in passing that it had peanut butter in it, so that meant I'd naturally love it. So the sneak decided to demonstrate just how good a server he was by making the sundae with extra peanut butter. Needless to say, someone got a very good tip (even moreso than usual).

I have to admit, I enjoyed the meal, and I had fun chatting up my waiter just a bit. Sure, he's too young for me (I think I'm through with college students), and the religion thing would be an issue. (After all, he's not goth, so I'm pretty sure he wasn't wearing a crucifix just for the "cool factor.") But sometimes, it's just fun to be able to chat and have a little harmless fun with someone. And besides, I think it was good practice for me. I really could use more practice being chatty and flirty, as it's something I struggle with (especially if I actually find the person I'm chatting with attractive). So this was a great activity. And either Kyle didn't notice or didn't exactly mind, so it worked out well.

And I do like that I'm learning to be more attentive to picking out little things to comment on. It should really help me with starting conversations in the future.

Apparently, the gods decided I needed a bit of a confidence boost this evening. Two different guys decided to check me out while Michele, Belinda, and I were at the restaurant tonight. Unfortunately, neither of them took it to the next level by asking me for my phone number, but it was a nice experience, nonetheless.

In reality, I didn't notice the one guy checking me out, but both of my companions assured me he did. It was while we were standing at the front of the restaurant waiting for our turn to be seated. Two young men in their mid-twenties (or so I'd estimate) stood on the other side of the aisle leading from the front door of the restaurant to the hostess's station. Apparently, the one looked over my way and took several seconds to check me over. What a shame nothing came of it, though.

The other instance I'm not 100% sure of, but the guy who seated us when it was our turn seemed incredibly friendly. Once we took our seats, he turned to me and complimented me on my creative tee shirt (it's the "2QT2BSTR8" one). Now many people have commented on this shirt, but this is the first time someone has struck up almost a full minute long conversation over the topic. Granted, I still might have shrugged it off as nothing if Michele didn't comment on the incident herself. (Indeed, she went so far as to say she wanted to tell him to ask me out already by the time our brief conversation ended.) And he did exchange smiles a couple more times throughout the meal, so it was interested. But alas, he never said anything. And to be frank, I've embarrassed myself one too many times to take a chance on mistaking yet another person in the service sector as being more friendly than their job requires or even suggests.

All the same, it was nice to be noticed. I hope it keeps happening on a regular basis. Though I also hope one of these guys gets up the courage to do more than just check me out.