You know how I was bitching about having to attend a dull ass convention in this
The mate who was taking me was pulling my leg the entire time
. It was epic. She made fake brochures and tickets, had me completely
taken in that what we were going to was a motivational convention.
I should've have Googled that shit, but I'm lazy. So I believed it was a motivational convention, complete with hot rooms and dull speeches. But it wasn't.
It was a goddamn arts
Which explained the dancing warning. (I didn't take it seriously, silly me). The old school waltz-type dancing soon morphed into a club scene that lasted from night to early morning.
It was brilliant on so many levels. There was lots of paint, upbeat music, dancing, and, I'll admit, some very cute guys. One of them was an absolute gem and knew his music and sciences. :DD
For hours, I got to paint on his huuuge canvas on the floor with both brushes and my hands and talk to other people who liked painting. It was so wonderful. My friend went to the choir because singing is her thing.
So instead of tolerating it, I enjoyed
it. A lot. I even smushed paint into my friend's face when she popped over to tell me lunch was on. All is good. Except for sore feet, but really, that was my fault for not bringing the proper footwear.