"I could have danced [and walked] all night..." - another allusion to Jamie Cullum

Little did I know that coming to college would prompt a bizzare, unforeseen desire to learn ballroom dancing. Thoughts such as these reassure me that North Park [and, accordingly, Chicago] was the right choice over the lackluster/rural Augustana College. So, last night, the four confident and daring remains of the ["what would've been a] large group embarked on a mission to enjoy ourselves and the company of others as we learned and practice basic swing and other dance steps.

Chris, Mindy, Janna, and I were those four task-keepers.


So I found this great ballroom, May I have this Dance, online and told Mindy they had swing dancing lessons [Mindy and I practiced swing at the rap-infested homecoming dance]. So, I intended to organize a fairly large group, 5 guys and 5 girls, and go learn swing dancing. Well, this place has a slightly annoying policy in that they do not reveal the dances that will be taught that night in order to encourage people to learn a dance they don't know much about, or review a dance they already know. So I knew going in that we may very well be learning the tango or some obscure dance, but I figured it'd be fun nonetheless. Well, the dances taught that evening were the Waltz and the Hustle - and they were alot of fun!! The community there was highly inter-generational, so I ended up dancing with several women 50 years old +. Even though only 4 of us were able to go, I think that worked out the best, because had there been 8-10 college students there, I could see it being a clear separation of parties, whereas with only four of us, we blended quite nicely. More will go next time, I believe.

The real story of the evening, however, is found in the trip, err... the walk, back to North Park. I knew the bus #68 along Northwest Highway ran with wider time-intervals than others, so we just walked down the street towards the Jefferson Park Bus station - the direction the oncoming bus would come pick us up. Well, for two miles we encountered no bus. So we ended up at Foster, and walked eastbound, hoping to pick up the Eastbound 92 bus. Long story short, we had some very unfavorable circumstances and ended up never picking up the bus, thus walking 2 hours at night all the way back to NPU in formal attire [the girls walked barefoot] and in ~ 50 degree weather. It was partially brutal, but good fellowship nonetheless.

Walking back, above. The route which we walked, below. 5.0 Miles according to Yahoo!

In other news, the first wave of homesickness hit me last night. Actually, pummelled, seems more like it. I got "the feeling." Its the feeling that prompted me, once, in high school to go to blockbuster and pick up anchorman, and schnucks to pick up a pint of Ben and Jerry's chocolate chunk ice cream and just sit in my basement all night endulging in the goods. Its the feeling thatI can almost always pinpoint a reason for [usually having to do with hormones, girls, or the like] even if I never wish to reveal it. However, this feeling is different. I, honestly, cannot pinpoint a reason for it. My relationships are great, school is going fine, I have a satisfying life and reputation here, my finances are decent - nothing seems to bother me right now. But, I felt this unremitting urge to just call my parents and cry. Did I have anything to cry about? No. I just had to. So, we talked for about an hour, and it was really great, relaxing, and personal. My parents cited my feelings as being an overload of summer events which I haven't had the opportunity to catch up from [graduating, kosovo, moving, moving again to college, etc...]. I suppose they're right.

I'm going home in 2 weekends, and I strongly look forward to it.