All right, so it's been a while. Or... well, I guess it hasn't really been all *that* long. Only a week, or perhaps two. No; just one. One week and a number of hours, anyway. 11 or so. I guess it just seems like a long time because my days have been relatively full, with a good degree of new knowledge assimilation. But on with the program.

So I've been out dancing a number of times since then (and recovered passably well what I'd learned last summer), and had my first week of class (and lab), joined an online forum (and have been attempting to get up to speed), and spent a lot of time looking for employment. Not finding much; probably going to end up flipping burgers, mopping floors, or something like that. Joy. At least it will be temporary.

I'm rethinking my "relationship" with Zelda. I mean, yeah, at first glance it looks like I'm getting re-exposed to a social life, being dazzled by it, and wanting to drop [my self-imposed somewhat obsessive pseudo-commitment to] her, but the truth really is that it is only the "hopeless romantic" in me that really sees benefit to pining for her. If I knew that after... everything - her extended schooling, her New Zealand experience, her Peace Corps stint, whatever ends up happening after that - we would end up together, I'd have no problem simply waiting for her. Even if I only knew that we had a fair shot at a relationship after all that, I would wait. But I don't; we may never be more than just friends. And since (as I've mentioned before, though I don't know if it was in a journal entry or not) our current relationship isn't even one I consider close enough even to define as "friendship" but rather "amiable acquaintance", I don't know that we'll ever even be that.

Well, cutting to the [immediate object-that-impelled-me-to-write] chase, there's a new girl in town I met at the Tuesday night swing dance. Saw her again at Friday's, and just went to Harrah's casino, where she teaches salsa dancing on Sunday nights. Name's Anna (or possibly Ana; I don't know). I find her attractive, and I'll admit she was one of the primary reasons I went tonight. (Her presence was also the reason I decided to go out with the Jitterbugs gang to Perkins after Friday night's dance, but that's not entirely relevant.) My only concern is that I suspect she is a number of years older than I. It doesn't affect her physical attractiveness in my eyes one bit, but there is of course the male need to be "superior", and she is undeniably more experienced, established, and altogether comfortable with life than I. I, who has been a student all my life, never really held a good, steady, career-job, and is feeling quite apprehensive about his future.

Oh, and hell (pun intended); I don't know her spiritual status. Conversations at a dance can blur together, and I do remember meeting a surprisingly large number of Christians (or at least religious people) at dances. But I don't know (or remember) about her.

On with the chronicle. The first event of significance tonight is from when she announced herself and the other instructor to the "class"; audibility wasn't so great, and I thought I heard her give the same last name. Perhaps she did and it is only coincidence, or perhaps I heard wrong, but later on he left for a birthday party; her sustained presence suggested to me that they aren't "together"... and later she referred to him as "the man I teach with", or something similar, and I'm fairly confident now that they're not married.

Anywho, later on in the evening, a newcomer arrives, and she spends a fair amount of attention on him. I'll admit to being a little envious, though he was a nice guy to talk to (when she was dancing with someone else, and he and I were left sitting together), and I learned some from watching them dance (intellectually, anyway; it remains to be seen how well it helps my actual dancing).

Eventually, it was just the DJ, her, him, and me. He speaks Spanish, and has a lot more in common with her than I do, and I couldn't help but feel a little excluded as they talked about salsa dancing and music and artists and I-don't-know-what-else-because-I-don't-speak-Spanish.

I feel like an idiot about it, really. I didn't dance but once the latter half of the evening ('twas with Anna), and I spent a lot of time just watching them talk and dance. And, of course, being Kevin, I had to take a few notes when a particularly - well, *noteworthy* - thought crossed my mind (mainly regarding dancing, but some commentary on social interactions). After a while I started feeling... I don't know how to describe it, other than "puppy-doggish". Just watching, from the sidelines, more or less powerless. But I couldn't just... leave. Because, somehow, that would have been even more weird. Or at least I felt so. Maybe it was just that my desire to stay where she was overcame my self-shame at that desire.

I'm not entirely sure what to make of Anna. I'll be the first to admit I have little-to-no experience in reading females, and I have to fear wishful thinking interference. It's a common occurrence for a socially-inexperienced shy-ish person to become attached to the first member of the opposite sex to be friendly and approachable. But from time to time I get the impression that she is [at least somewhat] interested in me. At the Friday night [swing] dance, I approached her to ask... what was it? The way to something. Ah, yes; to Harrah's, the casino where she taught salsa. (Of course, I was interested for the very reason that she was involved, but she didn't know that.) She interrupted me part way and finished my "How do I get to-" with "a woman's heart?" I was caught a little off guard. Was she implying that, if I were seeking a way to hers, the journey was welcome? Jokingly (well, semi-jokingly), after she'd finished directing me to Harrah's, I asked her what the way *was* to a woman's heart. "Pleasing her" was the answer, expanded somewhat into meeting needs, desires, being courteous (like holding a door, etc.), and the like. To "and what if that doesn't work?" I received "then move on; she's not worth the trouble." I hadn't mentioned Zelda to her; the closest I'd gotten was mentioning that I spent 13 hours reading The Fellowship of the Ring on tape for a girl. I don't believe I let it be known that I had done so just recently. Unless she learned from another Jitterbug, she doesn't know about my situation with Zelda. (Excepting, of course, generic woman's intuition and the heightened awareness she would have if she *is* interested in me.)

Later that night, at Perkins (where I was pleased to be able to seat myself next to her), she took an interest in my notes (which I carry everywhere), and when the table exchanged jokes she laughed at mine in what seemed to me to be an overly done manner. Not insincerely; just... too intentional. Like one might perform to keep someone happy with you. Of course, that is very likely just wishful thinking. She also offered me the opportunity to do her the courtesy of paying her bill (no, not monetarily; I took her money to the cashier when I paid my own bill).

Also I made sure to hold the door open for her.

Oh, and for what it's worth (and I don't think it's much; more an artifact of differing culture/tendencies than anything else), she asked for some of my water, and drank it from my glass.

And tonight, at Harrah's, I was having trouble expressing myself to her - first, because I wasn't sure it would be prudent to do so at all, and secondly, because I lack the confidence - and she ended up semi-manipulating me to buy her a strawberry daiquiri, which we shared. Becky (who I know through Cindy, and as the other more-or-less-completely-inexperienced person present was my dance partner much of the time) shared it as well, which irked me a little bit. She'd dropped hints earlier (she wanted to try the strawberry daiquiri, but had left her purse in her car), which I'd [hopefully inoffensively] ignored.

A few times tonight Becky squeezed my shoulder as she passed by my seat, and I commented a few times that it felt good. At some point I think I actually gave myself a mini-massage (the kind as socially intrusive as a brief stretch or knuckle-crack). And, granted, vanity may be (read: is probably) playing a part (coupled with aforementioned wishful thinking), but later in the evening I noticed Anna doing the same in a manner which seemed, to me, to have a "gee it would be nice if someone would do this for me" way. I lacked the... confidence? I suppose that word is applicable, though it isn't the mot juste. I felt that giving/offering a massage would be untoward, and so didn't. Still later in the evening she spoke of her thigh muscles being a bit sore from all the swaying (merengue). I don't think I even need to mention that the offer running through my head would have been socially inappropriate.

Later as the three of us walked to our cars (on the way out, I held a door for her, but... uh... dangit, I've-forgotten-his-name got one as well - which I intentionally allowed), Anna invited him to her car to listen to some salsa music they'd discussed earlier that evening (or, at least, I surmise as much from future events; the conversation was held in Spanish when he was about to head to his own car). I wasn't sure where to walk; we were all too proximate for me to ignore them, really, but they spoke in Spanish (which effectively excluded me). And, of course, I imagine him to be interested in her (as far as I can objectively tell I think that's accurate, but bias is by its very nature untrustworthy, so...). I tend to have a fairly rapid gait anyway, so I slowly walked further and further ahead of them. Then she started singing, "Kevin, Kevin". I turned, and looked at her. "Yes?"

"I was just singing your name. I can do that, can't I?"

"Of course." Beat. "Thanks."

I really don't know what to think of her.

Next Sunday night won't have salsa dancing, on account of the Super Bowl; when the DJ announced this Anna was surprised; she hadn't known. I find myself pondering inviting her Tuesday (swing dancing) night to Mr. Toad's next Sunday - assuming Luigi is playing. I don't know what else I could suggest if he's not, but at least I know she's free (at least, for now) that night. Hey; thought just went through. If Luigi's not playing, that opens up the evening to a walk in the park - or if it's closed, just around town. Any girl I'd consider a long term relationship with would have to be up for that sort of thing anyway.

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