I did not know what I signed up for. Things were so slow to start… and there I was – worried I’d be late.
I was late, but that’s not the point because lateness was figured into the starting time of the workshop. So I guess I did the rational thing? Maximizing my utility like a pro (my fellow folks of supply and demand will understand).
There was a time I used to take pride in the fact that I’m always punctual and never too early nor late to anything. That’s changed. I blame Australia, I blame the tube, my naïve optimism and everyone else except me.
It’s been almost two years in the UK and I should know better. The tube is a slow rat-infested antiquated form of transportation. If I only knew how to take a bus my life would be so much better.
I followed the other kids and last Sunday was the first time I took a bus in London over the last 2 years. I’ve successfully avoided it like the plague. Mostly because of my fear of getting lost, raped and murdered in London (not necessarily in that order).
Speaking of murder, one kid was stabbed not too far from where I live. It was in the news and everything. Some kid wanted to steal the other kid’s bike. Stabbed him and the cyclist died about 15 minutes later. Helmets don’t make cycling any safer after all. Welcome to London!
We were stretching and patting/petting/massaging our muscles. I was definitely weirded out, but hey I paid for the class and had to get my money’s worth (also a thing which has changed over the years). It was a workshop about improvising in dance. I struggled through some of the things because I’m a very shy and reserved person. One could even say cultural. All what’s missing is a monocle and a top-hat.
After a while the class got better, much better. Maybe that’s just me as it takes me a while to warm up to pretty much anything… but I admit parts of the class were fun. In one exercise I was the puppet-master and guided my puppet (other person) into the classic Hitler pose – one arm in the “Heil Hitler” position and the other one making a mustache. I crack myself up.
Oh… what’s the deal with stretching? I’ve done a bit of homework and found out that stretching does fuck all. It doesn’t make you any less likely to injure yourself or on the other hand it also doesn’t cause injury (it does NOTHING). Also, being flexible is a useless superpower – nobody will give you a medal if you can put your leg behind your head. I think it’s one of those things people invented to look busy when they actually aren’t. No different from checking your phone when you’re in a room full of strangers and too chicken to talk to anybody.
I learned a few new things and put them to the test a few hours later – there was a zouk party a bunch of us went to afterwards. I think the dancing got much more interesting and creative with the improvised elements in it. The party was a good way to end the week.
I hope you had a good day and that nobody got stabbed.
Hugs and kisses,