One of the very first television shows that I can remember watching and enjoying is Remington Steele. My mum and I watched it together right from the first season onward - although how we ever stumbled across it I don't know. In the first season of the show the Remington Steele character (Pierce Brosnan) did much less than he did in later seasons: part of the joke was
that he had been hired on purely as a figurehead, knowing nothing about how to be a detective, but that people, believing him to be the boss, nonetheless persistently asked him to take an active role. Whenever this happened, Laura Holt (who actually ran the agency) would say, "Mr. Steele functions best in advisory capacity." Well, tomorrow I am, amazingly, going to function in an advisory capacity. I will be joining two men as they go off to buy men's tango shoes (or, as I must call them for reasons I won't go into here, Tango-Related Foot Items). I am still not quite sure what I will contribute to this particular venture, since I know nothing about tango shoes, let alone men's tango shoes, and since the men's dance shoes I've seen in Cambridge come in a broad range that stretches from black to...black, but off I go to have the experience. And the boys - or at least one of them - appear determined that I should come. I must confess, I am charmed.
In other news, my BF is here for the week, and so far we are having a fabulous time. We played gin! We had competent conversations with my friends here! (I'm always worried my friends won't meld.) We had a big discussion about the importance of science! She has a great haircut! We haven't yet had a row! So it's all going smashingly. I am able to go TRFI shopping because she is giving a talk at a genetics centre tomorrow: not only is she my BF, she's a person important enough to come and give a talk at the Sanger Centre!
And, finally, I appear to have sustained my first TRI (Tango-Related Injury). Last night in class I practised sacadas, and in one of them the momentum did not work quite right, which meant that rather than my leg flicking up in a surprising and quite impressive manner (which always makes me laugh with delight, as it's so unexpected, and the sensation of performing an action without the least work on my part is so pleasurable and surprising) I just got my upper calf (lightly) bashed into by the leader's knee. At the time it didn't hurt at all, but somehow my muscle seems to have been bruised, so today I'm walking with the sense that I have a mild charley horse all the time. I hope I recover by tomorrow.
Although of course I'll dance anyway.