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It is always safe to learn, even from our enemies; seldom safe to venture to instruct, even our friends. |
Friday, September 15, 2000
One year ago: Broken Glass
Three years ago: O Comfort-Killing Night
I was sitting at my computer, getting ready to go out, when Jack called. He's leaving tomorrow morning for a business trip to Atlanta, and he won't be back until next Thursday! He has an early two-hour layover at SeaTac, so I asked him if I should come to the airport and meet him for breakfast. He wasn't too encouraging, so I let it drop. Now I wish I hadn't!
I felt bad about hanging up. But tonight was the first dance practice in several weeks, and I don't remember the last time I got to Friday Night Practice.
The studio looked rather bare, since the previous tenants had taken all their lighting equipment and so on. No problem with that, but it seems that some electric fans that belonged to us have also disappeared. We needed them! It was soon very warm and humid down there in the basement.
I had a good time, and got some good dances in. I'm out of shape, though; I can tell by how soon I get overheated and out of breath. I can always get through a song, even if I step out the back door and fan myself furiously in the parking lot afterwards. No lesson for tonight, since they are just getting things revved up.
There are tears in my eyes because a journaler I read lost her grandma. Shelley is one who can really draw a character, and she'd written quite a bit about her grandmother in the past.
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