A Tale of Two Parties

                This last weekend, I enjoyed my evenings with friends from two very different part of my life at two very different parties.  The common factor between both (which is really a common factor to all events in St. Louis) was alcohol.  The other common factor was that both parties were celebrating new beginnings.

                Saturday, I went to a colleague’s home for a baby shower.  Thankfully, it was a couples’ baby shower, so while there was a lot of talk about fussy babies and sleepless nights, there were not any pregnancy horror stories.  It was a delightful evening with friends.  We oohed and ahhed over my friend’s newly renovated home almost as much as we did over the baby gifts; since the happy couple is having a girl, there were plenty of pink ruffle filled opportunities for cooing.  The house was fabulous; there was a small porch off of the living room for warm evenings with a book and lemonade.  The kitchen was made over with walnut cabinets and granite counter tops; the look was contemporary but fit well into traditional atmosphere of the house.

                Sunday, I went to a different friend’s new apartment for what I will describe as a housewarming party, but which he characterized as “an excuse to get the last box unpacked” party.  He just moved into a fabulous loft in on Washington.  In size, it reminded me disturbingly of my old apartment in Anchorage, but that is where the resemblance ended.  The building was open and airy with wood floors throughout, high ceilings and exposed beams.  Dinner was jambalaya and chorizo bean soup – both made from scratch. 

The company was great, with music, beer-fueled arm wrestling contests, and salsa dancing.  Figuring out the music was a trip.  The crowd was a Salsa loving group, but my friend didn’t have any Salsa music.  We ended up spinning across the floor to the tinny emanations of an IPhone.  I danced with every guy at the party, which was sweet.  However, I have to say that I have a long way to go to be comfortable dancing in a small space- I kept getting distracted thinking I would run into a wall.

When the party broke- or perhaps I should say “transitioned”- from the apartment to the Atomic Cowboy- I made good my exit.  I don’t know how late they stayed out, but I am pretty sure I was already up well past my bedtime.

All in all, a good weekend.  I hope I can finagle some more of that jambalaya someday – it was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.

Dancing Full Circle

                Back in May, I stumbled across a local Swing dance group, Southside Imperial Dance Club.  It quickly became a regular part of my routine to wander over to Kirkwood on a Sunday evening with my perfectly ugly dance shoes (really, they’re ugly) and spend a few hours twirling around the dance floor with my new friends. 

                Now, as my friends know (apparently both new and old), I’m a sucker who has difficulty with using that two letter word that all two-year-olds instinctively know, “No.”  A few weeks ago, I was asked to join Southside’s board.  This is what happens when you show up regularly, occasionally help pick up decorations, and generally make friends with the people who get things done in a group.  Of course, I said yes; this group is my group.

                This brings me to last Saturday when we and 175 of our closest dance friends celebrated the club's anniversary.  In order to accommodate our local dance family, we rented the gymnasium at the community center in Whitecliff Park in Crestwood.  With plenty of blue and silver balloons, candles, and garland, we transformed the basketball court into a dance hall.  Add a DJ, some food, and you have a party.

                The highlight of the evening was the interclub championship.  Every year, Southside invites local clubs to send their best dancers to show off their stuff.  There were five couples on the floor showing off their best footwork.  Anytime I have the pleasure of watching the gal from the winning couple, I am reminded of a quote from the movie Take the Lead:  “I'd kill to dance like that. It's like sex on hardwood.”  No, I was not surprised that she won; as one of my partners once observed, she has joints in places people aren’t supposed to have joints.

                And of course, I got to dance.  I danced fast songs and slow songs, with my favorite partners, and with new friends.  Since it was a special evening, I dressed up and spent the evening twirling in a swishy skirt.  If you don’t spend much time twirling in a swishy skirt, rest assured, it is the best way to spin. 

At the end of the evening, the crowd slowly dwindled, until there were only thirty or so of us left to boogie to the Cupid Shuffle.  As the last of the couples enjoyed the final song, we cleared the tables, unplugged the twinkle lights and pulled down the decorations.  A bit of team work, and we left the room as we found it – ready for a game of basketball.