We could have danced all night.
Not really, but it was fun.
Roommate J had the brilliant idea of actually using P Rides, the door to door free campus taxi service, to get us to the formal and back. This was a stroke of genius, seeing as how it was below freezing and short dresses are in right now. I myself wore my graduation party cocktail dress, inherited from Great Aunt Classy. Roommate J, the Downstairs Chatterer, Athena (the awesomely smart girl down the hall with a taste for classics and creative writing) and I dressed in our finest and posed for photos before heading out into the night.
We ran like the possessed to our waiting car, seeing, as we did, two girls from the dorm next door making for it with fixed expressions on their otherwise shiny and giggly faces. Luckily we all managed to fit and we were off, pausing only for the driver to get out and manually yank the supposedly automatic fence into place.
The dance was, at first, underpopulated. Mostly because it was the one for all the campus leftovers but also because we arrived at eleven, which is when most Saturday night things are just getting going. Unfortunately (fortunately?) Roommate J had to be awake early this morning for her EMT class so we reserved a P Ride for midnight, giving us an hour to savor the delights of the best and the brightest bumping and grinding to music only marginally better than what we bobbed to at Damn-Big-Midwestern-University High.
The dance was held at the campus center for "cultural understanding," which, combined with the music selections, which were very danceable and catchy, left me feeling sad to not have a cultural ethnicity with which to identify. And then I remembered I do, and that I like to mock people who take the Irish thing way far, and then I didn't feel sad any more. :)
People eventually filtered in to get their groove on and it became a lively dance. We left while we were still having fun (words of wisdom of my mother that I took to heart, along with, "Don't marry into the mafia.") and our return P Ride was waiting for us outside, on time. Our driver this time around was a guy in a cowboy hat listening to the country station and speaking in a southern accent. Tee hee. Also, he had had friends several years ago who lived in our dorm room. So we chatted about the number of walls and the oddness of its shape and the coolness of having two entrances until we were in fact back at the place in question. We thanked him and retreated to our respective rooms.
Roommate J and I, fired up by the dance but sad that there had been no jazz, as it's title, "All That Jazz Cabaret" had implied, decided to dance around the room to "Sing Sing Sing," thoroughly amusing CC and RussianRoommate. We then moved on to "Danse Macabre" and felt very much like turn of the century boarding school girls, dancing in our pajamas to waltz music with empty arms and not a boy in sight.
SoccerRoommate returned from her evening (she had gone to the same dance, but even earlier than us and had left, alarmed at the scantiness of its crowd, to watch movies with friends). We congratulated ourselves at having been more active than her, for once, and everyone went to bed. The end.
Today I plan to not procrastinate and to back up my computer multiple times over, pending our potential separation tomorrow.
Oh! Also! The Dan Rather taping yesterday was very interesting, more in terms of how these things work than in terms of what was actually said. Still, it's airing this Tuesday on whatever premium cable channel he's on nowadays, and streaming online, and although I don't think I'm in any shots there will be excellent views of my college's common room. So, yay.