Reassurance is everywhere, it seems, and I am reveling in it (at least for the moment). Swing lessons have been going really well, with the minor exception of the older gentleman who sweats profusely (by profusely, I mean dripping) and blames me for his unclear leading. In general, the guys are getting much better at leading, and I hope that I'm correspondingly developing into a better follower.
People here are so amazingly nice. I am not used to the levels of courtesy that people show here. I got a good taste of it at VU, but even at such a big school, it really stands out. Some examples: during dance rotations, nearly all of the men are willing to (at least) try to converse and don't glare or act disappointed or shudder at the sight of me. Also: one of my guy friends who lives in the area is kind enough to walk back with me to my apartment area if it's nighttime. Men elsewhere: please learn from this. It's completely courteous and not really necessary, but the gesture is definitely appreciated. Finally: it seems to be an unwritten rule that if you hold a door open for someone, even if they're behind you as you're passing through, the holdee says "Thank you." Sweet!
My other primary extracurricular, fencing, is also unexpectedly spectacular. I may not be the best fencer--in fact, a lot of the time, I'm confused, and I tend to under-extend my leg during the lunge--but this is nothing in light of tonight's lesson. The president of the club, who happens to be the collegiate epee champion (epee is the hardest level of fencing) and an English major (bonus points), was helping us with lunges and recovery in our drill rotations. This was nerve-wracking. While I do have a lot to work on as far as my form and posture, I was thrilled when he said to me, "I have to say, you have one of the best recoveries I've seen tonight. It's very smooth." Wow. I didn't even know it was any good!
I approached him after class to apologize for a very minor incident prior to the beginning of class (he was talking, but neither the two guys I was conversing with nor I realized it, and he firmly told us to shut up, but in nicer terms). No worries there--he was cool about the silly thing. As I was about to leave, he said again, "Your recovery is beautiful. Keep practicing." I practically floated out the door. Or hopped. Either way. It doesn't help that I find him fairly attractive. Such control! Such power! [Such inanity!] Swoon.
Incidentally, I'm off to read some Freud for my 11 o'clock Theory class. That guy would have some serious comments to make on my life.
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