Oh.  My.  God.  This weekend has been amazing.  I kid you not, I haven’t had a weekend like this in a very, very long time.  It was filled with dancing and dining and, well, I suppose I should just start from the beginning and tell you what I did.

Friday

Friday afternoon I drove from Long Island to New Haven to meet up with one of my great friends, Poptart (that’s her real nickname, promise).  The drive up was beautiful–colorful trees and water beside the highway.  I had plenty of time to see all the beautiful birds and houses because I was stuck in traffic for the last hour of my trip.  Thanks Connecticut.  No really, thanks a lot.

Anyway, when I finally reached Poptart’s house (which is pink and adorable), we left to have dinner in a very fancy restaurant.  How do I know it was fancy?  Everyone called me “ma’am” and there were roses on each table.  I ate a dish of chicken and risotto that was so good, it nearly caused my brain to fall out of my face.  Even better, we shared dessert, which was basically this solid piece of chocolate.  De-li-cious.  Don’t believe me about the rose?  I’ll show you a photo of Poptart pausing her meal for me!

Afterwords, Poptart and I headed over to a swing dancing event hosted by Yale.  I got to take a beginners lesson so I could figure out how to lead.  If anyone is wondering: Yes, I still am horrible at being a lead.  At least now I can turn my partner!  I had a pleasant surprise after my lesson.  My pen pal (I signed up for one while I was at school) came to meet me.  I let him know I was going to be at Yale and being the awesome fellow he is, came to swing dancing to say hello.  I had sent him an e-mail the night before regarding how he might tell it was me if he were to come.  I couldn’t think of any qualities that would ensure he could tell who I was.  Out of pure desperation, I mentioned that my nails were painted orange.  Guess what clued him in to who I was!

He arrived in a bow-tie!  Be still my heart–I had no idea my pen pal was so incredibly good looking!  Also, he had very nice hair.  But I digress.  Where was I?  Oh yes!  I taught the handsome pen pal how to swing dance, and thank God he was a very fast learner.  Though he left early, I think he was my second favorite partner of the night.  I danced with a few really great people during throughout the evening, and even joined them all at someone’s house for a blues dancing after-party.  At first it was a tad awkward because I didn’t know anyone, but then guys started asking me to dance and it got much better.  Plus, they had pizza.

Blues dancing is very intimate, and not much like the fast-paced swing dancing I am used to.  It took me a while to relax while being smooshed up against someone’s torso.  Eventually though, I learned how to read their body so I could dance easily with them.  And to be completely honest, there is a kind of serenity that comes from allowing someone to hold you intimately while calming music plays in the background.  Your first concern is connecting with their body.  Feeling them around you, trying to connect with you as well was wonderful.  I loved it.  I can’t remember a time when I felt more safe and at ease than when I was dancing to blues.  But enough of that, let’s move on to:

Saturday!

I woke up bathed in sunlight–the room Poptart let me have had this huge window that got the morning sun.  It was perfect.  After I showered off a night of dancing from my skin, the two of us headed over to this cute little cafe for breakfast.  The sun was coming in through the window–it felt like summer!  We took off out coats and enjoyed the warmth for a few minutes before leaving.  Poptart took me through the different streets of Hew Haven and Hamden.  The houses were interesting!  They were all different colors and one even had a–a something.  I don’t know what they’re called.  Hold on, let me ask Bubbles.  Okay, he says it’s the inside dial of a chronograph.  God, this is why I’ve missed him so much!  He just radiates awesome.  Anyway, the house had those on the outside, but I’ll show you a photo of that later.

I was sad to have to say goodbye to Poptart, but I had an appointment with the handsome devil of a pen pal and some coffee.  We spoke for a long time, and I greatly enjoyed our time together.  I think whoever matched our letters together and made us pen pals was on to something.  Had we gone to the same school, I think we might have been friends.  I would very much like to spend time with him again, though I wonder if that will ever be a possibility.  Who knows?  The future is open to every possibility!  Part of the fun with writing letters to him is that he’s a mystery to me.  Here’s to keeping it that way!

We tried (and failed) at taking photos together.  No really, we did.  Look:

Then we hugged, parted ways and I got into my car, ready to revisit the place I spent the last four years.  Memories flooded my head as I drove through Connecticut and New York: how much I miss upstate landscape during the fall, the slight excitement that builds inside while one is on his or her way to Vassar, how much I wish the Taconic would explode into a million pieces.  I reached Vassar in no time, and was happily greeted by Bubbles.  At this point in my day, I think I was so happy, I might have run the risk of possibly just floating away.  I was seeing all the people I really liked, and they were all giving me hugs!  I didn’t realize until that point just how much I missed him.  It was almost like the first day of Spring.  I was warm and happy and I just didn’t want it to end.  Phew–that was extra corny.  Sorry about that!

Anyway, Bubbles and I caught up on all the stuff we’ve been missing, then we went to Twisted Soul, which is one of my favorite places to go.  They have delicious empanadas.  I spent most of my time dropping things in my shirt while Bubbles spent most of his time throwing food around.  And then we saw an adorable kitty in the parking lot!  When we got home, Bubbles decided to get some work done–at which time I bothered him senseless because I couldn’t log onto the internet.  Yep, Vassar hasn’t changed at all.  Bubbles was very patient and refrained from using my laptop to beat me to death.

And then it was time for the Harvest Ball!  We looked very pretty.  Don’t we look very pretty?

I think we look very pretty.  In any case, there was lots of swing dancing and bumping into people (literally, there were sloppy people everywhere) and getting stepped on.  It was everything I missed.  I played the “look for a guy you don’t know and ask him to dance” game.  I did fine at first, but it got increasingly harder to find friendly looking men as the night went on.  After dancing, we waddled our sore bodies home and we made snickerdoodles.  And by “we made,” I really mean “Bubbles and his very cool friend Andrea made.”  I mostly put the butter in the microwave, mixed the dry stuff and then sat back and watched.  Margo will recognize this high level of participation from me during the times she spent making brownies and scones.  I’m mostly afraid of baking.  I will say that they tasted a little bit like dreams though.  It must have been the expert way I nuked the butter.

I slept on their futon under a blanket that really does feel like a giant puppy, which brings me to…

Sunday

I woke up and 8:30 in the morning and wrote most of this post while enjoying the very nice view from the living room windows.  It’s sunny outside and I can see trees.  At the moment I am currently watching Bubbles wash dishes.  I will continue this post when I get home.

At home: Bubbles and Andrea made pancakes from scratch, and I opened a pomegranate.  They were perfect pancakes.  Don’t believe me?  I’ll prove it!

Bubbles is an expert at being some kind of mix of Betty Crocker and a unicorn made out of rainbows.  I was very sad to leave him and my Vassar, though I was mostly sad because of him.  On the way home I realized that the only reason Vassar holds as much importance to me now as a graduate is because he is still there.  This weekend was only further proof that it is the people that make places perfect.  I had a lot of time to think about it as I death-gripped my steering wheel and prayed on the Taconic for some kind of miracle.  I can’t even remember half of the trip home.  I think my brain makes me forget to ease the trauma.  Did I mention I hate that highway?  May it burn in Hell for all of eternity.

Finally, I came home only to find that after a twenty-year plea, my parents bought a dog while I was away.  His name is Simon and he is adorable.  Expect a lot of photos in a later post.  I think this one is long enough as it is.  Best weekend ever?  Definitely.