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So yesterday as we were leaving Pittsburgh, heading home into the sunset, Mai called out, “Good-bye, Pittsburgh, we love you!” and I added, “Pittsburgh knows how to treat a girl right!” And I have to say, it’s true.  I had a really great weekend at PittStop 8.  I got to see JohnJohn, I had five hours each way in the car with Godiva and Mai, and so many, many lovely dances.  In fact, I don’t think I had a bad dance all weekend.  This is rare, to be honest.  Dancing is a percentage game.  For every really fabulous dance you have there’s five merely good dances, plus probably thirty ok dances (no death, no blood – we’re good), and, sadly, at least a few actually awful dances.  Maybe your lead is rough or completely unimaginative (three minutes of side by side Charleston to a slower swing song, anyone?) or doesn’t bother leading.  And then there’s the guys who are actually creepy.  You’ll find a few of them in pretty much every swing scene.  Last PittStop as soon as I walked on the floor at the Saturday Latenite I got snagged by three of them in a row.  This so sapped my will to live that I sat out the rest of the dance watching other people have wonderful dances, knowing that if I wanted I could get up and maybe have one too, but lacking the energy to move.

But this year – not a single bad dance.  The other girls had a few – they’d come back and share about Applesauce Man (we can’t figure out why he mysteriously smells like cinnamon applesauce), or the guy who, when hit by Godiva’s flying braid as she spun, cried out, “Beat me!  Beat me!” (Not enough ew in the world.  Seriously.)  Somehow I avoided all of that completely.  Just one lovely dance after another.  Sigh.  It was so nice.

And now I’m back to my regularly scheduled life.  There’s Swing Club tonight (I think I’m going to start teaching my kids partner Charleston), then the Competition Team practice after (let’s hope I still remember how to lead that complicated move in the second verse).  There’s lots of stuff to do on the house, plus trying to figure out what I’m doing about school.  Plus I’m supposed to bring a vegetable for Thanksgiving, and I have no idea what I want to bring.  And then there are Christmas presents to finish (hurrah for knitting!), and at some point I’m going to have to take all those sweaty t-shirts out of my bag from this weekend and wash them.  Still, my muscles are still a little sore from the weekend, and I can still feel the flush of joy from that one dance Sunday afternoon with the Really Good Guy I’d been stalking all weekend.  It’s a good place to be.  I think I’ll stay here a while.

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