Dance the night away
Dec. 14th, 2014 01:25![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
torquillWell, my lungs are shot. So is my right knee. And I know my feet won't speak to me in the morning until I've given them a hot soak and an apology.
This was the last Gaskell's in the Scottish Rites Temple (well, unless they work out an occasional special-event thing there). I'm glad I was already planning to go. The Christmas ball is always lively.
The gender balance was off about as much as usual, which meant I could count the number of dances I got (in three sets) on one hand. Which was okay; the quantity was low, but the quality was astounding. My first waltz I got tapped by the small black-haired dance instructor; I had seen him in action, but I had no idea he got that creative with people he didn't know. I missed only a few cues, and stuck with it, and I think I conducted myself to my credit. It was certainly fun.
I also got to dance a Jolly Dogs Polka with several lovely gentlemen in turn... but after one full set of that, I staggered off the dance floor unsure whether I was going to faint or throw up first. I had thought I was in pretty good shape, even with cardiovascular stuff, but it took me ages to catch my breath (after the first waltz, too). Maybe I should blame the fact that I was wearing wool and a petticoat that was tied tightly under my ribs. At least the weather outside was lovely and cool, but not raining.
I resigned myself to sitting out for at least one dance after each one I got. I met a bit of a tinderbox called Beth, dressed in drag, and she gladly took me out for a waltz (just as creative as the first). The floor was filling up, so I'm glad she was leading, rather than relying on my shaky skill. Yes, I was scanning for female partners too, after male ones, though I didn't manage to hook any this time. I got hooked twice, though.
A lady grabbed me a few bars into the second Congress of Vienna; I would have hated to miss both of them, as I do love it. We fumbled a little with the panes (she was rusty on leading that particular set of moves, though she led a straight waltz very well). That was all right though, as we were both just happy to be out there.
I know very well I can't dance the Bohemian National Polka, but I'm glad they did it just so I could watch. It's very pretty.
Finally, a very courteous and upfront gentleman tapped me for the second-to-last waltz; he was rusty and a little tired, he said, and I replied that I was too, and the floor had thinned out enough that we managed very well. I figured that was probably my last dance, and I was right. As I said, however, superb partners every time, and I enjoyed relaxing into my waltz partner's lead.
I couldn't get a partner for either Sir Roger de Coverley set, but I decided it was just as fun to watch and enjoyed the hell out of both of them. I sat out one polka and watched a bunch of ceili dancers doing some sort of set dance to the music, which was entertaining. On inquiry, I found that if I want to get into ceili the best bet is Mondays at the Plough (yeah, that's probably not happening), but the same group frequents East Bay Waltz and Vintage Madness. I picked up a bunch of flyers for that sort of thing, gatherings that had somehow been under my radar. All of them seem to be cheaper than either Gaskell's or PEERS, and closer than Friday Night Waltz even when it was on this side of the bay.
I also sang as many parts as I could to the "Hallelujah" chorus at the end, because I have the vocal range and why the hell not.
I rather hope that whatever venue Gaskell's ends up in next will have better ventilation. Windows that open would be a great start. Between the dance hall being around 90 degrees, and the pace Brassworks sets (I heard one complaint of "Either ten percent too fast, or ten percent too slow", and wistful talk of the sensitivity Bangers and Mash has to the dancers) it was pretty hard to manage a full polka, or even a long waltz, without diving outside immediately afterward. Hell, I went out even when I hadn't been dancing, just to get some air. I wish they had opened more than the single half-door, at least. More doors would have helped cool the whole place down.
There were lots of pretty dresses, even for a piker like me. Not a lot of stunning eye candy, though I was admiring the guy who plays David Copperfield (I think) at Dickens. And the lady in the Christmas tree dress, complete with ornaments and LED candles. I also complimented the Japanese fellow wearing a dove-grey suit with Totoro marks on the front, which he carried off very well.
All in all, I had a very good evening, despite the lack of partners. I'm giving serious thought to going in drag to these things, since I look good in it and I can lead at least passably well. A lot of women who dance regularly learn to lead out of self-defense, and I'm no exception. It seems like one of the best ways to battle the gender imbalance.
I'm imagining the look on Meg's face when I tell her I need male dress. Though maybe I should wait until after Twelfth Night...
This was the last Gaskell's in the Scottish Rites Temple (well, unless they work out an occasional special-event thing there). I'm glad I was already planning to go. The Christmas ball is always lively.
The gender balance was off about as much as usual, which meant I could count the number of dances I got (in three sets) on one hand. Which was okay; the quantity was low, but the quality was astounding. My first waltz I got tapped by the small black-haired dance instructor; I had seen him in action, but I had no idea he got that creative with people he didn't know. I missed only a few cues, and stuck with it, and I think I conducted myself to my credit. It was certainly fun.
I also got to dance a Jolly Dogs Polka with several lovely gentlemen in turn... but after one full set of that, I staggered off the dance floor unsure whether I was going to faint or throw up first. I had thought I was in pretty good shape, even with cardiovascular stuff, but it took me ages to catch my breath (after the first waltz, too). Maybe I should blame the fact that I was wearing wool and a petticoat that was tied tightly under my ribs. At least the weather outside was lovely and cool, but not raining.
I resigned myself to sitting out for at least one dance after each one I got. I met a bit of a tinderbox called Beth, dressed in drag, and she gladly took me out for a waltz (just as creative as the first). The floor was filling up, so I'm glad she was leading, rather than relying on my shaky skill. Yes, I was scanning for female partners too, after male ones, though I didn't manage to hook any this time. I got hooked twice, though.
A lady grabbed me a few bars into the second Congress of Vienna; I would have hated to miss both of them, as I do love it. We fumbled a little with the panes (she was rusty on leading that particular set of moves, though she led a straight waltz very well). That was all right though, as we were both just happy to be out there.
I know very well I can't dance the Bohemian National Polka, but I'm glad they did it just so I could watch. It's very pretty.
Finally, a very courteous and upfront gentleman tapped me for the second-to-last waltz; he was rusty and a little tired, he said, and I replied that I was too, and the floor had thinned out enough that we managed very well. I figured that was probably my last dance, and I was right. As I said, however, superb partners every time, and I enjoyed relaxing into my waltz partner's lead.
I couldn't get a partner for either Sir Roger de Coverley set, but I decided it was just as fun to watch and enjoyed the hell out of both of them. I sat out one polka and watched a bunch of ceili dancers doing some sort of set dance to the music, which was entertaining. On inquiry, I found that if I want to get into ceili the best bet is Mondays at the Plough (yeah, that's probably not happening), but the same group frequents East Bay Waltz and Vintage Madness. I picked up a bunch of flyers for that sort of thing, gatherings that had somehow been under my radar. All of them seem to be cheaper than either Gaskell's or PEERS, and closer than Friday Night Waltz even when it was on this side of the bay.
I also sang as many parts as I could to the "Hallelujah" chorus at the end, because I have the vocal range and why the hell not.
I rather hope that whatever venue Gaskell's ends up in next will have better ventilation. Windows that open would be a great start. Between the dance hall being around 90 degrees, and the pace Brassworks sets (I heard one complaint of "Either ten percent too fast, or ten percent too slow", and wistful talk of the sensitivity Bangers and Mash has to the dancers) it was pretty hard to manage a full polka, or even a long waltz, without diving outside immediately afterward. Hell, I went out even when I hadn't been dancing, just to get some air. I wish they had opened more than the single half-door, at least. More doors would have helped cool the whole place down.
There were lots of pretty dresses, even for a piker like me. Not a lot of stunning eye candy, though I was admiring the guy who plays David Copperfield (I think) at Dickens. And the lady in the Christmas tree dress, complete with ornaments and LED candles. I also complimented the Japanese fellow wearing a dove-grey suit with Totoro marks on the front, which he carried off very well.
All in all, I had a very good evening, despite the lack of partners. I'm giving serious thought to going in drag to these things, since I look good in it and I can lead at least passably well. A lot of women who dance regularly learn to lead out of self-defense, and I'm no exception. It seems like one of the best ways to battle the gender imbalance.
I'm imagining the look on Meg's face when I tell her I need male dress. Though maybe I should wait until after Twelfth Night...
