This is my 100th post. Dang. Who would have thought there would have been so much to write about St. Francis, South Dakota?
As you might have noticed, the posts have dropped off a bit. It feels a bit monotonous to write that life is going well and I’ve formed a comfortable routine much more than a few times. I figure it would be monotonous to read as well.
This past weekend was a fun little shake up though. I drove to Rapid City to go dancing with a whole cohort of Teach for America ladies. The dancing was fun, although I’m finding the meat market scene at bars a little distasteful. I’ve never been one to put much effort into my appearance (doesn’t every girl go weeks at a time without brushing her hair?). Now that I’m out in the great wide wander, it’s gotten even worse. I have put on makeup (and by makeup I mean eyeliner and mascara, I don’t own lipstick or…what other kinds of makeup are there?) maybe three times. I’ve also gotten a little, um, squishier since I’m no longer playing a competitive sport and kind of just enjoy being lazy out here where no one can see me. (Seriously, go ahead and facebook stalk me, you aren’t going to see many photos since I’ve left Davis.) So while I loved dancing around like a spazzed out three year old, I feel a little awkward with that…gosh, what would you even call it…meeting guys routine? I’ve just lost any sense of reason for it all. It doesn’t have to be the main purpose for going out at night, but the feeling that people are there to pick up on the opposite sex is prevalent.
But don’t worry, I still know how to make friends. Before we went to the dancing club, we met at the bar at Hotel Alex Johnson (shout out to my brother-in-law) because the ladies were coming in from several different locales and the bar there is a quieter place to meet up and make sure everyone knows the plan for the night. As soon as I walked in, I saw a table full of people wearing shirts that said “Team Bacon.” I was instantly intrigued, but just flashed a smile and headed straight for the Teach for Americans. Teachers for America? The Ladies. After awhile, however, I decided I just had to know. So I sauntered over to the Baconaters, and struck up a conversation about these obviously celebratory shirts. Turns out two of the table members were getting married at the end of the month and their friends were taking them on a bar crawl and of course, the groom’s last name is Bacon. Now, the average age of the people in this group was at least thirty and I think two of the women were pregnant, but thanks to past partying with my older siblings, I get along like aces with people of dang near every age. These fine people seemed to enjoy my company so much they gave me a t-shirt, and bought me a shot…of Charlie Sheen. Tasted awful, but the whole night, I was “winning,” duh!
I probably would have enjoyed bar crawling with a bunch of married, engaged and older folks from Rapid City, but the whole reason I was in Rapid was to dance with my friends (well, that and a dentist appointment on Monday-no cavities! Go me!), so I bid adieu to Team Bacon. I did however, rock the Bacon shirt for most of my time dancing in the club, giving little thought to the fact that I didn’t really fit in with the halter tops and mini dresses of most of the women at the club. I mean, c’mon, who doesn’t love bacon?