I spent the entire day on the arduous task of creating Aardvark Enterprises’ Information Development Project Plan, and the Content Specifications Plan for the Job Aid — required entries in my Project Notebook for ENG 518. What a bitch that was — way tedious. And miles to go on the notebook, which has a checkpoint due at next Thursday’s class.
I got to dancing at a little after 8:00. There was this group of four straight people there — three women and one man. The guy was sexy, though the ponytail could have gone. Another case of, particularly with one of the women, of people thinking they can actually go out on the dance floor and just “pick up” 15 or 20 dances watching someone else do them. That, in and of itself, is not the bad part, though it is a bit incredulous. What’s bad is when they have no sense of being in the way, with the possibility of someone who actually knows the dances hurting themselves, such as with a sprained ankle or something. Clueless.
Plus, wouldn’t you think, maybe, after the fifth, sixth, or maybe even tenth dance of not being able to “pick the dance up during the one song,” you might stop thinking (and saying out loud), “Okay, I’m going to get this one.” Hello! Clue! Anyone in there between those ears?
Needless to say, these folks made me cranky all night. Plus, even after being told once to, “Please, if you’re going to dance free-style, would you please dance in the middle?” their drunker-as-the-night-went-on selves couldn’t seem to remember that — in spite of two-steppers circling around the floor — sometimes running into them. DID I MENTION, “HELLO? ANYONE IN THERE?”
To top the evening, and my crankiness, off, after dancing stopped, they got “Uncle Frank,” who was celebrating his 50th birthday, to stand against the wall, and encouraged people to “step right up, and for one dollar, throw a piece of birthday cake at Uncle Frank.” I thought this was the most inane thing.
First of all, “Uncle Frank” took his shirt off to expose a huge, white belly that made you want to run away, not walk right up, and he seemed way too eager to have someone throw cake at him. He was sort of giddy, and rubbing his hands together, rising up and down on his toes and heels in anticipation. Somebody threw a piece and it half hit his shoulder area. It was just totally lame. I said, “I am taking my cranky ass home,” which I did.
Robert when over to CCs with Joe, and got back to my place at around 1:00. We had the most incredible sex that we’ve had in a long time. I used “the leather shoelace,” and let’s just say I got my shoulder and my pillow shot upon. Whew.