There was a swing dance toniiiiiiiight.
I finally took our two modded DDR pads home from school. I’ll remove and salvage all the mod material and throw those damn pads out… and sooner than later we’ll insert the new pads so we can bring the DDR club back into school.
I spent a few hours at Time Out instead of Starbase. Lots of kids would pass through the arcade and watch me play DDR for a bit. I saw a few of my TL friends. My beverages were a Frappucino-esque drink and a pineapple smoothie, which were mistakes because they’re both dairy-based. Having passed MAX300, full-comboed Destiny, Paranoia Clean, and Kakumei, and passed Naoki feat. Paula Terry twice, I left.
I got all fancied up and found that my grades weren’t as horrible as I expected for this last quarter. No D’s. I left for my mom’s, but first I drove through TLHS to see if I had left my backpack standing out in front of the school as I was busy loading the two modded pads into my car. I had, but it was there untouched. As I was driving through, I noticed Sophie, Annie, and Geoff, the Drake-ers/oids/o’s, very much too early for the swing dance. I invited them over to my mom’s to sit and do nothing for about an hour. Beats sitting and doing nothing in the cold.
My plan, though, was to miss the first hour of the swing dance and go over to my temple, where my Tuesday night class would be reading a story to the congregation. It was a small tale about two men, one rich and one poor, who both wanted to invite a stranger into their house for the Sabbath meal. It went over well.
I zoomed back to the swing dance, and things were, uh, swingin’. The swing dance only went on for another hour after I got there, but it was pretty cool to see everyone in sort of a swing costume. I mean, James won the best-dressed contest.
Aw, he looks sad. 🙁
Annie re-taught me some of the basic steps and I got to dance with a few more people. It’s very seriously easy to just go up to someone and ask them to dance in a sort of thing like this. Everyone there is an intelligent person, and it really doesn’t “mean” anything to dance with them, if you know what I mean.
So, the swing dance was over, but our dancing passion was not fulfilled, so… guess what… we went to Starbase for some DDR. Along with Sophie, Annie, and Geoff, who I said I’d drive home, James and Brad came as well. We freestyled mostly, though, since we were all in swing attire. We played Mikeneko Rock a few times, as well as other swingy songs. And then I passed some edit data of the song “Cowgirl” for which I will now shoot myself.
I drove everyone home, and a few cool things happened:
First of all, as we left the valley from dropping off Annie and Sophie, we stopped at a 7-11. So the image is this: 3 guys in full swing attire, suspenders and hats and all (well not for me but I was wearing a kewl jacket) step out of the car, walk in, and buy giant Double Hyper Extreme Big Gulps. I thought it was pretty funny. I have to make some sort of comic out of that.
I dropped Brad off, and right as I was turning the corner onto James’s cross street, well, I made a mistakey. I didn’t come to a complete stop at a the stop sign. As the time that I turned in front of James’s house, I noticed a police car behind me. First time getting pulled over, yay!
Everything went very smoothly, though. It was just after midnight, but I’ve had my license for long enough that that’s legal… and I had my license/registration/insurance all there, and I was explaining that I was dropping my friends off from a dance. The whole thing just emanated “responsible designated driver.” So the policeman didn’t cite me. That was cool. I’ll be sure to try to do that “count S.T.O.P. at every stop sign” thing from now on.
And then this morning I woke up and found that since I didn’t get a B average in all of my classes, I couldn’t go out and drive everyone to San Jose to meet this bitchass. Eh, my only purpose was to serve as chaperone, so since I wasn’t too important for anything else, I guess it’s fine that I sit it out. I don’t like being used, you know. Yeah. I’m an independent woman.