dance

Last night, we made it three for three. Usually, we skip Saturday because it’s too crowded, and we’ve already gone Wednesday and Friday. Saturday is pure hedonism.

I lost so much respect for a few of the regulars that we smile and hug and say Hi to. There was fighting, there was disrespect, there was nastiness. It was really sad.

It’s supposed to be a good time, drinking and laughing and dancing and seeing your friends. If you have a bad attitude, stay home. If you feel like fighting, get some help, you’re too angry. It wasn’t even a fair fight, and that was the worst thing of all. I felt physically ill.

Time to check out that new club that’s a little closer to home. Maybe they won’t be acting like savages there.

I wore the wrong shoes.

Before we left my feet began to get sweaty and slip forward, so dummy me decided to rub some Degree on my feet (I read somewhere that this prevents chafing, plus I thought sweating feet + antipersperant=dry feet)

this made the one foot that I had applied it to slide dangerously forward, so I grabbed a tissue and tried to hurry and wipe it off, since I had sent Hubs out the door to get the car, and he’s not too keen on me telling him I’m ready to go when I am not.

SO, I thought I was all set, but all night I had to keep kicking my heels down on to the floor to get my shoes to sit properly. (Gah)

Still danced hard and had a great time, but I will stick to my tried and true.

I feel so strong and beautiful out there. I have learned to drop all hang-ups waaay before I hit the floor. I have learned to dance beautifully in heels. I have learned to love and accept and express myself through something I didn’t even think I could do.

Will be going again tonight…and maybe even Saturday night.

Went out last night and plugged 5 bucks that I didn’t really have in to the jukebox, danced by myself, then danced with an adventurous guy who could actually lead this unleadable girl.

Tonight is ladies night, free, no jukebox, nothing but 3 hours straight of dancing. I am addicted to this activity, for reasons I have expressed, and it is the best therapy I could ever imagine for myself.

I will go dance my heart out tonight, one step for every bad thing that happened.

1)Strong

2)Beautiful

3)Free

4)High

5)Sexy

6)Invincible

and got another free pass to get in.

I feel so free and beautiful when I’m out dancing. All the happy people, perfect music to dance to, seeing friends and meeting new ones. I spent a grand total of $3.25, for one drink, and drank water the rest of the night.

The downside was one person who thought they were being nice kept trying to rub my arms. Eek! Please don’t. I kept removing his hands from my shoulders, shaking my head as in, Don’t do that, please! and generally trying to dance myself away from him. That was the worst part of it, and that was nothing. Drunk guys embarrass themselves all the time. No skin off my nose, really. Just annoying. I kinda think most people can tell I’m only there to dance, not hook up.

The best part was this older couple (in their 70’s) putting the younger people to shame. Both dressed great, flushed and happy from dancing. Completely inspirational for me.

So and so says he doesn’t want to be with the “kind of person” who goes “barhopping”. First of all, isn’t barhopping where you go to all these different bars? And exactly what “kind of person” does it make me to dance? Just a bit more bullshit to make me feel like crap.

Dancing as therapy

The woman struts her stuff all over this track

This makes me feel like dancing