This weekend, I went contra dancing at the Northfield Armory. Contra dancing is hard to explain – it's like square dancing, in that there's a caller who reads off the moves you should be doing and a whole lot of fiddle, but it's a lot more raucous, fast-paced, country-dance-from-a-movie-based-on-an-Austen-novel awesome. You skip in circles, weave between people, and get spun around and passed from partner to partner until you're soaked in sweat, grinning and ready to collapse. I had already been once last winter, and was looking forward to going again. This time was full of surprises, including:

• It was free for Carleton and St. Olaf students, so there was a large student contingent, but there were also a lot of really dedicated middle-aged couples who came all the way from the Cities to dance. I even recognized some of them from last winter.
• I discovered young men who had the old-man swing. "To have the old-man swing" is a phrase I've invented for being able to use centrifugal force when you swing your partner so that she barely has to do anything and feels like she might lift off the floor at any second. It is awesome. Usually, only the experienced older dancers know how to do it, but that night I found three young men who could do it as well as anyone – one, a very geeky-charming (this is an adjective that can be used a lot at Carleton) guy that my friend tells me is a probable geology major, who exaggerated all his motions to the utmost; two, a guy with a ponytail down his back and a kilt made out of what he informed me was a tartan that any clan in Scotland can use; and three, my friend Kaj from my New Student Week group way back when, who is as undauntedly cheerful as ever. He was well-known last year for seeming genuinely overjoyed when you chose his station to eat from at the LDC.
• I remembered some of the dances from last time! This is momentous. The muscle memory made them feel much more natural, so that I wasn't constantly scurrying around trying to find where I was supposed to be. I also danced every dance and somehow managed not to pass out, which was a surprise in itself.
• In one dance, there was a little blonde girl who looked about seven in a cute pink matching outfit who was playing the part of a man, and she was a better lead than many of the men there. Go figure.
• A lot of people danced during the waltzes, which they play so that everyone can take a much-needed break. Usually, only a few sappily romantic older couples dance those, but this time everyone was dancing. This meant there was a large variation in skill level, from the Social Dance Club leaders doing elaborate swooping spins to the little kids stepping on each other's feet.
• As I left the building, there was a whole group of people from Farm House with guitars, banjos, fiddles and even an accordion, singing folk songs at the bottom of the steps. Everyone stopped at least for a while to listen to them. We could see our breath, and our bodies steamed in the cold after two hours in that sweaty place. It was the perfect end to the evening.

Aside from all that, it was just nice to get out and interact with real people from Northfield. (This weekend I also ate at Mandarin Garden in town, where I was informed that people from the upper Midwest don't like green onions. Huh.) I've been getting off campus pretty frequently this term; hopefully that'll continue through the winter.