I made myself sad last night watching Robot Carnival of all things. It’s another really cool animated anthology I found on RetroCrush that I somehow never heard of. I’m only halfway through it but one of the stories I saw featured a girl reeling from heartbreak over a two-timing boy. Things end up not so bad for her but I immediately recoiled and bristled at the content. I can’t really sit comfortably with things having to do with love and romance anymore. I know that’s pathetic. I was able to to sit through it, probably because it was so short and the animation was pretty, but it was surprising how deflated I became
Anyway.
While I ended last night on a despondent note, and had a subsequent bad afternoon, I had a great night. Nikki sent me a link to a virtual dance party with House of Yes. A popular and iconic Brooklyn nightclub. I had gone dancing there once about three years ago for disco night. I danced so hard I broke my platform shoes I had thrifted earlier that day. I wore this tight, silver, glittery dress with a circle cut out on the cleavage and it had long sleeves. That was also when I had a full head of long blue hair. I was single, enjoying my independence, and generally taking it easy. Seems like another life.
Tonight, however, about a hundred of us in a zoom call danced in our respective homes. I danced enough to be featured briefly in their spotlight and then I got brought into the “hot tub room”. Before you get concerned it was not seedy or gross. Captain Ben ran the room and the hot tub was a plastic gallon bucket with a bottle of Clorox inside of it and a candle that he kept in the background. Clean and warm! It was a zoom call room separate from the “dance floor” where we could break the ice with a small rotation of people and chat. I find that a lot more appealing than a real club (we could actually hear each other) so it was really nice. I didn’t realize how much I missed running into pleasant new folk. It reminds me that I’m likable and that, somehow, people want to talk to me. We stayed there talking for a while then we re-entered the dance floor for the final set of songs. There were about six of us in the room consistently and they were all lovely.
I felt great! I was wearing was my Monster Hunter tee and some Adidas shorts with some retro-blocky shades I bought on a whim. I looked entirely plain outside of the shades, but I felt wonderful being able to dance with a bunch of people from the comfort of my bedroom. One dude from the larger hundred person dance call even slid into my private messages, that hasn’t happened in a very long time, but I gently ignored him since that’s not what this dance party is about. He said I looked dope (and then continued to tell me how good I looked… uhhhh), which is generous, but I thought it was sort of nice(?) even though I was very hesitant to respond (and I ultimately didn’t). Thanks though, dude! One of the ladies in the hot tub room who had energy to keep dancing during most of the convo and had great makeup also sent me a message to tell me I had a beautiful smile. I did respond to her. I had to do all I could to not melt into a blushy puddle in front of a bunch of strangers. Thank you, Alice! I wasn’t expecting to hear that. I wasn’t expecting to get hit on or complimented! What a zesty evening.
I also worked up a sweat, which I haven’t done in a while.
I’m not sure I feel like returning to Robot Carnival tonight. There’s something about it that’s bittersweet. I usually love those things but it seems I was in the wrong headspace to enjoy it properly. I want to go to bed with the bit of positive energy that remains from earlier. I should probably shower off the sweat but I’m tired.