oh, it's a hickey

I've seen the way you deal with things
the troubles that this life can bring
if it get to you, I scan't tell by the way you sing
you act like it just doesn't mean a thing
I see you dancing all your, dancing all your, dancing all your days
maybe you can tell me how it is your got that way.
-The Avett Brothers, Dancing Daze

I really do love to dance, despite the fact that I'm not very good at it. One of the most important things I learned in Russia is to not care about dancing in front of people. It's just fun, and occasionally I am overtaken by the irrepressible desire to move with music. Many of you have witnessed this. Recently, I've been sharing this behavior of mine with my baby brother. Long story short, he has been conditioned to dance whenever he hears that Peanuts Christmas song - you know the one. I think dancing is a sort of outward expression of a carefree spirit, and for me, it's become a branch of humor (again, many of you have witnessed this).

Put music to our troubles;
We'll dance them away.
-mewithoutYou, The Ghost

Here is an anecdote that exhibits what I like to think of as "verbal" dancing: earlier this evening I was at a Christmas gathering in Oakwood - my mom's dad's family. My grandfather has six siblings, all of which have children and grandchildren, providing me with half-a-dozen cousins that are my age, give or take a year. Tonight I was the only one that didn't bring a girlfriend or boyfriend with me, which, honestly, made me feel a little like a failure at life. I do realize that this is silly, especially since I'm only twenty, and have, as my mother reassured me, "had plenty of boyfriends," (which is true).

I still found myself feeling a little . . . I don't know, out of place or something. Fortunately, I was able to diffuse the uncomfortable feeling by answering anyone inquiring about the small, but rather noticeable burn (curling iron) on my forehead with "oh, it's a hickey."

That got them laughing.