it's no secret that i'm a big fan of ceilidhs. admittedly slow on the uptake, having only popped my ceilidh cherry at the wilderness christmas ceilidh last december. BUT i've since made up for lost time, with ceilidhs at the edinburgh orienteering race and wild trials under my belt. in fact, despite not having a drop of gaelic blood coursing through my veins, i'd have a ceilidh at my wedding if i could! also, i used to see 'ceilidh' and commit to the trip without thinking, which probably explains how i signed up for the orienteering race. but ceilidhs are awesome and it's always such a scream. so much so that i don't even mind the multiple bruises i'm covered with the next day. knees are black-and-blue and there are thumb-shaped bruises where my bingo wings used to be. quite possibly from being tossed and thrown around with reckless abandon. yay i'm light enough to fling? this is in stark contrast to rag during freshmen year where i'd to skeddadle off stage during the gravity-defying bits because my partner couldn't lift me.
plus it's always funny when you're paired with someone who's as bad as you are, because i am borderline abysmal a ceilidh dancer myself. something else kind souls had to explain and correct as we were dancing. and hmm ceilidhs test just how comfortable you are with people and when i start making like an egyptian, i know i'm there :)
oh but there was this awkward moment at the very beginning of the ceilidh where we'd to pick partners and i was standing in a clump of girls and nobody picked me :(((( brings back awful memories of being picked last for the relay team at swimming training :( but i danced with the nice girl next to me and that was ok :) but gosh! such pressure! you don't think you'd feel it (or care) but you do.
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