Tag Archives: ceilidh

A tale of two journeys

Last week (and wow, how has it only been a week?) you may recall I went to a ceilidh. Go back one entry. Tada!

On my way out I was running late. I had been faffing around as usual, and was just about on time for being fashionably late when I made the mistake of texting an acquaintance and inviting them to dinner (I was feeling brave and empowered possibly because I had a razor in my hand ready to get my legs all smooth and womanly). Then I swanned off into the shower. On my return, with one eye on the clock, I checked my messages and had this rambling spiel from the guy spelling out FRIEND. OH GOD, FRIEND in massive neon letters. So I had to ramble back, with some wit and some half-truths, to save myself a little embarrassment. That meant that when the ceilidh started I was sat half-naked on my bed with a damp towel wrapped around me and a tablet computer in my slightly sweaty hands, frantically tapping out a carefree, it-was-just-a-suggestion-calm-yourself message. So I went to action stations.

Luckily, I already knew what I was wearing, and since I don’t wear make up anyway and my hair was going to be left down, I was ready pretty quickly. I also thought I knew where I was going. I left my room looking like a hurricane in Dorothy Perkins and off I went. It was dark and the roads were quiet, though the next round of major roadworks was getting set up so there was a bit of a hold up on the bridge and a bit of impatient steering wheel tapping. The sky was littered with lilac fluffy clouds. I had a hairy moment on a large roundabout because the idiots round here have no concept of lane discipline (there are no roundabouts on farms) and then I was up in the estate, looking for a village hall. I found it, exactly where I expected it to be. An old man in a spectacularly patterned piece of knitwear came out and helped me to reverse park (without me asking him to, and without me needing him to) further making me think I was in the right place. I wasn’t. I was exactly where I expected to be but that wasn’t where I was supposed to be. There are two community halls in that estate and I was in the wrong one.

I was flustered, I was even more late, and I was now following sketchy instructions that I was trying to remember as I drove down roads I’d never been down before. Every time a car got close behind me I got more frustrated because I didn’t want to be that driver who makes sudden turns or crawls along clearly lost and gets in everyone’s way. I found the place, eventually, after having done a circuit of the one-way system, and parked up. Then I couldn’t find the door of the place. I was seconds away from going home. I could see through the window a whole host of people I didn’t know and if I’d been in the wrong place again I think I would have had a breakdown. Luckily it was the right party. I crept in, searching for anyone I recognised, an hour late, sweaty and anxious, cross, embarrassed and tired. No wonder I had trouble getting a dance partner.

The way home was different. I gave some guests a lift home through the roughest estate in the top end of the town, and hoped I could find my way back out again. Once I was back on the main road, and homeward bound, I felt myself relax. The clouds had cleared and as I turned off the main road and trundled along the Firth, I was the only person around. Above me, Orion was striding across the sky leading me back to the village. I found myself grinning. I sang along to the radio and rode the curves of the tarmac. I saw no other moving vehicle. It was the witching hour and everyone sensible was in bed, where I wanted to be. The village was deserted and the street lights were urging me into a parking space. I was almost too tired to climb the stairs but after one last look at the stars I closed our rickety front door and made it to my room.

I very nearly just crawled into the pile of stuff and slept there.

Leave a comment

Filed under My ramblings

Ceilidh blues

Scotland, I think we should put aside the thorny issue of independence for a while and focus on what’s truly important: rules for ceilidhs.

Guess where I went last night?

I was invited to a birthday shindig and despite arriving an hour late – there’s an epic tale of heartbreak and bad directions in there for another time – I had a lovely time. I could have had a few more dances, but there was a lack of available partners. Most people present were couples. That’s fine. Be all loved up. See if I care. There was a pair dancing like Danny Zuko and Cha-Cha DiGregorio who showed off their moves all night! That’s not what Mr Kellerman is paying you for! I’m possibly mixing my dance movie metaphors.

I think, and I’m sure the few other single/came-by-themselves guests would agree, that we need to do something about this. I told a friend about my couple-goggles later and he wondered if perhaps I hadn’t noticed as much last time I went to a ceilidh which was probably true – last time I ceilidh’ed I didn’t go alone – but didn’t help me get my feet on the dancefloor.

What I propose is this:

1. Arrive with your partner/significant other/meatshield

2. Have a warm-up dance with them just so everyone knows who belongs to who

3. Dance with some different people!

4. Maybe have one dance you do particularly well that you can show off about with your real partner

5. Dance with some different people!!!!

6. Leave with the person you came with.

Now, there are a lot of dances where you swap partners all the way through. That’s fine. But you need someone to dance with in the first place to be on the floor to make the set, or the circle or whatever. Where can I find one of those? I invited a friend to go with me to the dance but he was busy not being socially awkward. I did get some dancing in though. I did Dashing White Sergeants and the Canadian Barn Dance, and one I don’t know the name of before we finished with the Orcadian Strip the Willow I’ve posted about before. And I got birthday cake. So it was all good really.

On with the weekend – much ado about work and play. Possibly rest. Happy February everyone.

Leave a comment

Filed under My ramblings