Well, I guess I'll check it off the list

Today - or rather yesterday, it's just a few minutes past midnight - was Wednesday. The day the students were supposed to go to that certain club. So I did go there.
It started out pretty well. Before I even reached the club, I met a friend back from school. We stood around in front of her place and talked for an hour, I think, catching up on other pals or enemies from school. Was fun, really. And it made me feel kind of cool, because I have a degree, and she has just started to study and she hasn't done anything real ever since we left school four years ago.
Anyway, I went to that club. No entry, which was good, and supposedly oldies and rock music. Turned out Wednesday isn't students night but 70s night. But that wouldn't have been bad, either.
Now the thing is really, really small. It is part of an old cinema, but apparently only a very small part of it. The dancefloor was rather tiny and looked kind of makeshift, as if they had this empty corner and couldn't think of anything better to put there. I wasn't even sure at first whether it really was a dancefloor, even though the light show suggested that it was. I sat down close to it, got a drink (glass of water, that is), and waited for the things to come. After about an hour, finally one couple got on the dancefloor. She was pretty much completely drunk, and he sometimes had a hard time to keep her from undressing, it seemed. But I wasn't there to sit around - I can do that at home, so I didn't feel like being picky about who to join. I would not have been comfortable starting to dance alone. It was my first night at that place and I really didn't feel very comfortable with the unwritten rules of going out in general and this club in particular.
So I started dancing. For a while, the couple was there, too, then they went to their table to drink some more, came back, went away again. By then, the music had changed to nothing but rock'n'roll. When the DJ started playing Elvis, I quit. I went over to the bar and got a coke.
The place had been filling up while I was dancing, but nobody showed the least inclination to do anything but sit around the bar. I figured I could either stay and watch the rest of the guys slowly get drunk (or not so slowly, some were really working hard to be drunk before midnight), or I could go home. I waited around for a while to check whether the music would become any better, but it didn't. I left on the second Elvis.
Now don't get me wrong. It's not as if I hate Elvis. A little too much whining for my taste, but usually not that bad. But I was out there to dance, for heaven's sake, not to listen to Elvis sing of his unrequited love to some Hula girl.
I slowly get the impression that it is a general problem with Germans. They don't dance if they can help it. Unless they are completely drunk. Then they might.
The first time I went to some kind of disco was my first vacation in England. We went to that tiny club, Ziggy's. Back then I hd no idea where the name came from, now I think I do. *gg* Anyway, the party was specifically organized for all these German kids on a language trip to Eastbourne. Nobody danced. Until the DJ was smart enough to put on the most favorite song that year, Redne' Cotton Eye Joe. Yes, those were the days... That got people on the floor. And as soon as the song was over, the number of dancers dwindled to a meager handful. And I have experienced it like that ever since.
Quite different from going out to dance in France. Gosh, the floor was full. Drove me nuts that people were smoking while dancing, you kept getting your hands burnt. But at least they were moving. Here you'd think they all died. They might, and the onl way you notice is that they don't touch their drinks anymore.
Or their cigarettes. Every centimeter of my clothes and hair smells disgusting. I will have to take a shower before I go to bed and wash my hair. I can't stand this smell.
Anyway, thought I'd tell you about my rather unsuccessful evening.
Short, boring cleaning update, just for the record: I'm back in schedule. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday tasks done.

(no subject)

This interview has some very interesting statements in it. Statements which I believe are true. Like this:
A "war president" has extraordinary powers. And the "war on terror," of course, never ends. There's no peace treaty with terror. It's a prescription for keeping conservatives in power indefinitely.
baronbrian had the same site linked to his journal, that's where I got it from.

My Thursday

This morning, I woke up at half pst eight and felt totally tired. I hate to wake up when I'm still tired, because then I can't go back to sleep again and it is just stupid to wake up early if I don't have to.
Anyway, I got up and my body reminded me that it isn't a good idea to go out dancing after three days of housecleaning and three hours in the sports studio if I'm not in training.
There used to be times when I could dance as much as I want to, back when I was in dancing school. But with an hour of ballroom and latin dancing every week, I really was used to much more. I am still sad I had to quit. And it wasn't my fault, really. It was simply the fact that in the higher levels, there's no use in showing up to classes without a partner. And I couldn't find anybody willing to dance. OK, I couldn't find anybody, we'll leave it at that.
But I'm not going to whine about this right now.
Back to my day today.
At first, I didn't want to do anything at all. F*** the schedule, just curl up on the couch and watch TV. But I would go crazy after a few hours of watching stupid talkshows, and there's nothing else on TV around noontime. So I ended up cleaning the stairs, which means I'm still in schedule. Quite impressive, and rather unusual for me.
Now my body is still sore, I'm still tired, but I feel like I'm a really good girl.
I deleted one of my Jareth icons because I saw somebody else use it. I'm not going to use the same icon as somebody else if I can avoid it. Then I came up with two new icons, another reason to feel good today.
I have gotten my daily dose of home decorating TV shows. Strange, but I just love these shows where somebody comes to your place and re-does any room yu don't like, or shows fun ways of redecorating yourself. Not that I ever do any of this, but it's good to know. And maybe I am so full of great decorating ideas and design tips that my first own apartment will look as if it jumped right out of the IKEA catalog. Oh, we got the new IKEA catalog a few days ago, and I've looked at every single page and found tons of things I like.
Then I had a great idea for another scene or maybe chapter of my MAry Sue story. Actually, I should credit baronbrian for it. He recently posted something about story development, and that starting with the complete plot in mind before writing the draft works better. Now, I came up with an ending I liked, and this required an additional chapter in the beginning. When knowing where the story is heading, it is really much easier to write. It might still be that the end changes once I get there, but as my Mary Sue story is not going to be the regular Labyrinth fanfic (I suppose that is something every writer of fanfic says, though), I think I'll stick with this ending.
Now I feel really good and happy.
(As for being different from other Labyrinth fanfics, part of my basic idea was What would the making of the movie mean for the real Jareth, the real Goblin King? Just imagine, all kinds of people sighing "I wish the goblins would come and take you/me/whatever away right now! and pining for Jareth's ...er... well, lets not go there. Anyway, that is a little bit like having an actual Mary Poppins get annoyed with all the kids trying to get her as a nanny.)