spinning...

I learned it in college, enjoyed it for several years, and was reminded of it last night: Activists know how to party. We almost didn't go, wore out by ping-pong and Josue's incredible chard, corn, potatoe, calabacita, onion, tomato soup, but we pumped some coffee into our veins and the walk woke us up a bit. When we show up to the party, memories from WMU come flooding back: low-lit dance floor, loud echoing conversation, good music that doesn't stop, dancing, young folks dressed up and down. Salsa dancers occupy the middle of the room, observers the edges and smokers on the roof. The party is well set-up, packed, and only growing. Soon it's hard to make it from one side of the room to the other. Some friends of ours show up, "So these are all the NGO folks?" and I remember how hard we worked as activists in Kalamazoo, thus the necessity for such extravagant parties and mad dancing.

Well, I haven't been doing much activism lately. Didn't stop me from staying until 6am, oof.