I Am In Iambic Mood

Ah, dopamine, o sweet neurotransmitter,
That tells our modern brain that we're in love,
Or climbing mountains, or tasting chocolates fine,
Or gazing deep into a whale's eye,
Give me excess of it, so that surfeiting,
The appetite may quiver and know joy,
And thus forget the many times before
You flowed and knew no logic, or there was
Too little of you. Modern Cupid's arrow,
I vowed three years ago I will not write
Love poetry (why? 'Twas all said before)
But this, this state of having plenty of thee,
Inspires me to spin out geeky odes
Not to a mistress' eyebrow, nor master's,
(Though I am not of Hamlet's melancholy
That man pleases me not, nor woman neither)
But to such simple things that make me float,
The ground far below my dancing feet,
As finding a perfect gift this morning,
And, unrepentant, splurging then and there,
For it made me think of thee. Or other pleasures,
Like, deadline for the trivia night drawing near,
And me being disinclined to go and paste
Two hundred twenty slides in PowerPoint,
Yet Beamer having been recalcitrant this spring,
And Beamer's guide, written by Linux users,
Was well confusing --- nay, inspiring fear,
With talk of Latexing and local trees,
But I worked out, and suddenly 'twas easy
(For those who care, ignore the local tree,
Use C:\Program Files\MikTex 2.7
\tex\latex\ ; then extract to folder "beamer"
And you'll be fine; I blush with geekery
At making a file address into blank verse)
And then the file compiled, and beautiful,
And though 'twas a presentation plain and fair,
I jumped for joy, right in my office jumping,
And collapsed laughing in my chair, like one
Madly in love receiving a proposal
--- I but extrapolate; I mean, one high on thee,
O dopamine, we thank thee for this day
And we'll wrap up this terrifying tale
Of five-foot lines iambic.

I did make it to dance, and surprisingly, I found jump-obertas turns --- not easy, but coming together. I practiced them some more, under Magda's instruction (her son just turned three months old, and she is back!) I will practice them some more.

I had a sudden vision as I danced, of the spare room I had slept in in Cambridge. It occurred to me that if I ever own a house like that with a spare room, I will use it to dance in. Put up some good speakers to a sound system, a small mirror on the wall to spot in, perhaps a large one to check posture in --- and whenever I need to let things go, I would go in there and spin deasil and widdershins, and dance dance dance o wonderful agony, there is a studio dying of neglect there, and I laugh at myself for this vision, for that will need to wait until I get my own apartment with a spare room, which is extremely unlikely, as events stand at this time, to be in England. But my vision was compelling. I know what to do with spare rooms. But my own. A room with a view.

And with dopamine!