Rare Regrets

Thursday and Friday nights reminded me that I have a small number of regrets about the past year in London.

Thursday night was spent back at Jitterbugs Swingapore getting re-acquainted with lindy-hopping, which I fell madly in love with last summer but failed to keep up with in London, due to lack of time, or rather, lack of time management. It was mildly depressing to dance with Richard, former Lindy II and III classmate, and feel woefully inept because of how good he’s gotten in the past year. It was mildly annoying to see that the same girl who irritated me last year with her cutesypieness is still there and cutesier than ever.

There were still moments I enjoyed, like dancing to Indigo Swing’s How Lucky Can One Guy Be (a song that featured prominently in my first few classes and which I still love), and I must admit it felt good to look at other people in the Lindy III class I attended and know that however much I may have stagnated or worsened over the year, I still wasn’t the worst dancer there, but I just couldn’t help thinking how much better it could all have been if I’d just kept on dancing in London.

Reality bites now, though, and an exasperatingly right voice informs me that whatever I may have wasted last year, I won’t be able to make up for it in the coming year, because I’m going to be even busier, with heavier debating and hall commitments, and I sort of want to get first class honours in law at the end of it as well.

Friday did not, at least, involve feeling woefully inept – I attended a three-hour briefing session for judging at the upcoming national debating championships, which is something I feel well qualified for, but juxtaposed with Thursday night, it made me wonder if I’ve spent too much time in my university life debating and too little time, well, swingin’.