As with all my stories, all the details are probably not exactly accurate. But I have to make it interesting somehow.
Well, I haven't said anything about that dance I went to with Ryan... I guess I'll write about that. It was last... Saturday. Yes. I do believe that is right. Rachel and Clifton as well as Hillary and Robert decided to join me and Ryan and make a six-some group. Intrigue and excitement. And, since it was girl's choice dance, us girls were in charge. However, neither Hillary nor Rachel seemed particularly thrilled about planning anything for a dinner... So... I decided to make spaghetti and garlic bread and all that exciting stuff. I called up the boys and told them all when to show up... and then I started my work.
It was like an intricate symphony -- everything had to be timed perfectly. Well, I got the meat and the sauce and the noodles timed perfectly. Even the garlic butter ended up right on schedule. I got the butter on the bread and stuck it in the oven at the right time... and then I forgot about it while I made the finishing touches on my spaghetti recipe. I was quite proud of myself. Except for that burning smell. It was really annoying and I couldn't for the life of me figure out what was burning. And then it dawned on me as I set the table...
Oh yeah. Garlic bread.
It would have been divine garlic bread if I hadn't forgotten about it. I had made the perfect garlic butter, and smeared it nicely on the perfect loaf of garlic bread from the Creamery.
I opened the oven door in panic ... and there was the blackest bread I'd ever seen in my life. Along with a billowing cloud of black smoke. Just then I heard a knock on the door. Looking furiously at the clock, I see it's about time for the boys to show up. I dash to the kitchen-hallway door just as Rachel opens the hallway-lobby door... Rachel doesn't have time to greet Ryan or Robert (both were standing there, looking in quite inquisitively) before I blurt out at her, "Rachel! Don't let them in! Keep them in the lobby! Stall!" I don't see Robert's face at all after that, but I caught a glimpse of a bewildered expression on Ryan's face before I slammed the kitchen-hallway door shut in order to prevent the smoke detector from going off.
My cooking-fire-response-team mode has kicked in. However this response-team-member and the cook in me are having a huge argument. With the oven safely turned off, I open the windows, open the back door, prop it open with a chair, turn on the fan (quite useless really, but just in case it helps...). Then I get the Febreeze (for lack of real air freshener) and spray the kitchen down). I stir the sauce, finish setting the table, and then...
I make my out to the lobby. That's where I get some very confused looks from Rachel, Hillary, Robert, and Ryan (sooo many R's!). I was confused too... so... I resorted to a grin. "Garlic bread," I said. "I put it in the oven. Then I forgot about it." That seemed to explain all. I went back into the kitchen, where it smelt faintly of smoke. I heard a knock on the back door. In came Clifton, who informed me it didn't smell like smoke any more... So... I retrieved the others from the lobby.
I wasn't breathing very well. The mad cook in my head was hitting me over my real head for that garlic bread mistake. So, I was starting to grow a bump through the top of my skull... and I pretty much did. I shoveled spaghetti onto six plates... and then I sat at the table. And I couldn't sit still. The mad cook in my head was distracting me (wouldn't you be distracted if you had a mad Frenchwoman screaming about your stupidity and your ignorance relentlessly?). Eventually the spaghetti on the plates disappeared, and the dishes disappeared soon after that.
Now came the fun part... getting to the dance.
So. Three couples = six people. One car = five seats. ... ... Five seats = six people? Yes. That seems about right. Trust me, I'm a math major. Six very small and sardine-like people, though. Rachel and I get in the middle. Then Ryan and Clifton come in on either side. SQUISH. Wow, that's pretty much... wow. I never realized how valuable the air was until I couldn't breathe it. The four of us struggling in the back, Robert gets in the passenger seat, and Hillary gets ready to drive. She looks quite pale. ... Very. She's obviously quite nervous about driving people all the way to Heber.
After about an hour of reciting the Muppets, having a This-Is-The-Song-That-Gets-On
Yes, the dance is on a train. Really, great fun. I pretty much pretended to dance, although I'm sure it was quite obvious I had NO idea what I was doing. Ryan pretty much did know what he was doing and put me to shame. Hillary also shamed me with her dancing skills.
The ultimate shame came when Ryan, Clifton, and a towel started dancing. Yes, that's right. The Towel Dance, which words cannot describe. Oh, how I would have died for a video camera right then. Yes, died. It would have been worth the camera. We danced for awhile. Or at least everyone else danced, and I had a few arguments with my feet, who resisted every possible dance move that came up in my mind.
Then the six of us moved off to the seating cars, getting hot chocolate and cookies on the way over. Rachel, Clifton, Hillary, and Robert commandeered a group of four seats. Ryan and I sat across from each in another group of four seats. I was quite content (how could I not be, sipping hot chocolate?) and had my legs propped up on the seat next to where Ryan was sitting. I think we were all talking about something random. And then Ryan got up and grabbed my feet (presumably to move them when he decided he'd rather sit next to me than across from me). Now, recall that I had an argument with my feet earlier. Here I pay the consequences, for both feet had sworn an oath to neither listen to or talk to me for the remainder of the night. I will my legs to bend; they do not. Instead the rest of me tilts. Which results in hot chocolate all over the front of the man-shirt I happened to be wearing (Ryan and I dressed up as Gilligan and Skipper, respectively). The warmth all over my front triggered the mad laughter/giggle mechanism, quite involuntarily. Ryan finally ended up where he'd like to sit. I ended up making better friends with Clifton's dancing towel.
Well, after the chocolate had partially dried, the seating situation kind of led to Ryan and I having our own conversation (there was sooo much distance between us two and the other four... we couldn't hear each other's dialogue). I can't remember what it was about for the life of me, but I think it was interesting. At some point the other four left (not sure when that happened... they were sooo far awaaayyy) and then a slow song came on, and Ryan decided to teach me how to slow dance.
I was more hesitant than I usually would have been I think... the last experience trying to cooperate with my feet didn't end well. After I got over the initial shock that my feet were begrudgingly cooperating somewhat (they must have decided I got what I deserved with the hot chocolate incident), I was able to look up... kind of... 'cuz Ryan was right there and that meant I'd have to look right at him. Which would have been a lot easier if he didn't have such nice eyes, truthfully. It would have been easer to dance with Clifton because he has blue eyes (I think?). Anyway, I think I should get lots of bonus points for learning a life skill (that's slow dancing). And Ryan should get bonus points for teaching me.
Eventually we found the other four back on the dance floor. We all danced a little more, and then we ended up back in the seating section. This time Hillary and Robert got to be the lone two. Clifton, Rachel, Ryan, and I had some random fun bobbing our heads in time, debating who in our rooms would get married first (unfortunately, I was placed pretty close to first... I personally don't think that's going to happen. I'm determined to go on a mission...). The train eventually ended up back at the station, and we all piled back into Hillary's car.
Rachel, I think, was the least comfortable this time. She was the only one we didn't manage to get into a seatbelt... so Clifton, Ryan, and I threw our arms around her to, uh... secure her? It was pretty much amazing. As time wore on, hands drew back until no one was holding Rachel steady (I think Ryan was last to move his arm... Least selfish of all us?). So, I guess, if we had gotten into an accident, Rachel would have died. How sad. Well, we called Jackie before midnight to avoid getting "grounded" and then... and then I got really tired. Rachel had a very comfortable shoulder on my left, as she was a little elevated due to the close quarters. Ryan had a comfortable hatted head on my right. I tried both out as pillows and decided that Rachel's shoulder won. Rachel, your shoulder is amazing. If you were taller in real life, I'd be using it as a pillow all the time.
We eventually got home, and piled out of the car. I got a few nice hugs (yessssss) and we all went to bed.
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