Estrella/Vegas 2010 - Part 9, Dancing Fool

Important Public Announcement:

If you walk someone to a dance practice, don't think that you can get away with simply sticking around like a wallflower watching. You will be press-ganged into participating.

This is not necessarily a bad thing, but if you're an anxious fellow like I am, you should be aware of it.

Also, wear layers, because you'll be stripping down in short order.

So othelianna wanted to go to a beginners dance class that was being held at the grand pavillion on Wednesday night (Or maybe Thursday. It's been awhile). I thought I'd tag along and watch. That didn't happen - the spunky little instructor and her assistant (some level of pointy hat - didn't catch where she was on the queen-baroness scale) immediately hauled my large clumsy ass into the fray with all the pretty women. The urge to flee was high, but I decided to push my boundaries and stick around with my heart racing.

So I learned some medieval dance moves.

I've watched this stuff before but always thought it was dull as dirt. And it is, if you're just watching. Participating on the other hand is quite exciting, thus putting it in the same category as baseball.

For the most part, I did not dance with Rosie. Instead I was mostly with strangers. One was the cute, but shy librarian type (Hereafter referred to as SL). About half the time I was in a party of four, consisting of me, my partner the hot redhead (HR), her friend the hot blonde (HB) and her partner the Guy Who Knew What He Was Doing (GK).

GK got his appellation simply because he knew all the moves and also knew the reasons behind the moves (i.e. it gave the participants time an opportunity to flirt with each other, and also quick escape routes if the wrong person flirted with you). He was in no way a beginner. Entertaining and informative as he was, I'd have rather had another noob with me so that I didn't come across looking like the love child of Forest Gump and Lurch.

The ladies, HR and HB seemed to be friends because they bantered and in-joked with each other. HB had that "I'm stuck with you, so I'll deal with it politely, but I'd rather you were someone else" attitude. HR on the other hand, seemed friendly and game to dance with anyone, including me. She was remarkably charming.

So there I was, dancing with two of the prettiest girls in the room, feeling like a big clumping oaf in my hiking boots. Seriously, I wish I had better shoes for that - Gillies for preference. On the bright side, I don't think I stomped on anyone's foot even once, though there were some minor collisions when I zigged instead of zagged. Also, so much steam was rising from my head by the end of it that I looked like Ghost Rider.

I may have to try it again, if only to make it less anxiety-provoking and also to retain some small piece of it. Like a roller-coaster ride it was both exhilarating and terrifying. Also like a roller-coaster ride, it's not something I'd care to do on a regular basis.

I stuck around as long as Rosie did (which was my goal). I thanked my other partners for the pleasure of their company and we left into the night with thekillerb69 who has watched the tale end of the dancing. Along the way I was mildly interrogated about the ladies I danced with. I explained that nothing would come of it due to my being cursed. I was admonished for this attitude, which I largely ignored.

The bad news was that the physical contact, exertion and cold weather combined to make me sick. I felt the first tickle of a sore throat that night. It would gradually get worse throughout the trip and I'm only just getting over it now, my first day back to work.

On the way back to camp we saw a shooting star. I wished for the nerve to talk to SL. Alas, I never saw her again.

Estrella/Vegas 2010 - Part 10, The Bad Archery

Thursday began the actual Estrella Archery tournaments. I shot... OK on the Thursday.

Later that night we decided to track down the Outlands party. I was finding it very difficult to keep warm, despite long underwear, warm garb and my bog coat. Also my energy levels were dropping fast. We got to the party when I realized that I had only enough energy to get back to camp - and that was only by burning some midnight oil. I said goodbye to my friends and did the old-man shuffle back to camp.

In hindsight this was clearly the cold/flu/whatever the hell I had clobbering me. Between illness and the anxiety-provoking dancing of the night before, I had used up all of my emotional currency.

Friday of course, I was still sick, still emotionally raw and I had no idea. So when I a) couldn't shoot worth a damn and b) got pissed off about it, I had my wee temper tantrum and took off from site.

Given my earlier breakdown at Quadwar two years ago, I think I just need to accept that I have an internal limit of five days for these things. Any event longer the that, I need to break up into four-day chunks with a day of "me time" thrown in every fifth day, where I just find a motel room and recharge. That was my original plan for this Estrella but on Thursday I felt I didn't need it. I was dead wrong on that though.