3 posts tagged “dancing”

I'm sure I've mentioned the sheer and utter anxiety I get at the thought of going to "the club " (see definition 1). 

In fact, I had an anxiety attack at a almost-but-not-really club.  It was a high-end restaurant in LA that I went to with my brother and their friends.  First, I didn't have anything to wear.  I didn't think to bring anything fancy, so I ended up wearing a pair of my brother's khakis and one of his white, button-down shirts.  Yeah.  I don't like loose clothes.  I don't wear tight clothes, but even if I'm covered up, I need a tight-fitting tank top underneath, at the very least.  And I don't do khakis.  I don't do pants, really, unless they are jeans or they look super cute.  I'm a jeans or skirts person.  So, I was out of my element, in the clothing department that day.

We get there, and I'm standing with my brother in the lobby, waiting to be seated.  I'm looking around and there's a bar.  Up until recently, I didn't drink.  I mean, I'd have a few drinks here or there, but never thought of it as a recreational, fun thing I think of it as now.  So, being 16 (as I was at the time), I was unsure about people drinking in public (naive, much?).  It was just weird for me.  Acceptable, but weird. 

After peeping the bar, I notice that everyone is suuuper dressed up.  Not only that, but they look goooood.  Everyone.  Sharp, fancy, sexy, glossy, neat, kept up.  And then there was me.  Clinging to my brother's arm in my khakis and white, button-down shirt that weren't even mine.  I unclenched my talons from my brother's arms and excused myself from the group.  He followed me to witness my anxiety attack and he calmed me down and reassured me that the food would be good (he knows the way to my heart) and that we'd be out of there soon.  And then we were out of there, like he promised.

All this to say, my pseudocousin (read: Lorelai's dad's cousin) is turning 21 this month.  My pseudosister (read: Lorelai's dad's sister) is getting a party bus and we're going to a few different "spots" (as they're called in the club scene) and going to "get our drink on." 

And, I'm nervous.  I told my  pseudosister  not to even bring it up until the bus gets here and she can confirm a drink is in my hand to knock the edge off.  Why am I even going, you ask?  Because my realsister took me out to a bar the other night and we had a pretty good time.  Also, because I think it will be funny.  And I think I need to get over myself a bit.  And most of all: I want to dance.

I'm sure there will be debaucherous photos to come.

What am I going to wear?!

To the guy walking behind me while I was unassumingly dancing to Kanye West in a dance move I can only compare to Kung Fu, I feel inclined to confirm: Yes.  I was busting a move that I can only compare to Kung Fu. 

I thought I was alone on the very public street.  It was hard to hear you coming up behind me while I was getting my grove on via the ol' iPod. 

I have never danced. 

I take that back.

I took tap/ballet (which I called balleT - pronounce the T!).  I also dance for my family to make them laugh. 

I've been to exactly two school dances.  One I had to work at because I was in Leadership and we put on the dances/school get-togethers.  The other was at my friend's private school. 

I didn't dance at either of those functions.

I feel taller than everyone.  And bulky.  I feel my feet are weighed to the ground and my hands are like wings, flapping.  Awkwardly.  Not like dove wings.  Like non-functional chicken or turkey or ostrich wings. 

That's why I don't dance.

I see people dance on TV (Dance Life was one of my favorite shows when it was on.  This solo alone makes me wish I've been dancing my entire life).  I used to want to be a video girl.  NOT video hoe - video girl.  I wanted to dance like they did and they looked like they were having such a good time.  This was before Confessions of a Video Vixen.  Before MTV or BET did documentaries on video shoots.  This was when I went to friend's houses after school to watch Chuy on CMC).  We'd watch Destiny's Child, TLC, SWV, Tamia, etc.  I'd watch and want to dance like them.

But I didn't.

Last night, M took me out on the town. 

I text'd him earlier in the day and said that since Lorelai was out of town, I wanted to see him again (I'd stayed the night the previous evening).  He said ok.  We were going to see a movie, but we saw one the night before, so when I got to his place, he said we were going to a lounge.  A lounge where there'd be a bar and probably music to dance to.  So, I asked if we could go play pool instead.  I'd been wanting to play anyways, since the last time we played was a good time.  That last time we played was actually the first time I'd been to a bar (with the exception of the time a junior high friends mom took us to one cus she didn't have anyone to watch us or something weird)  He won 3 games to my 1.  He ordered me two of "my drinks," - a Blue Hawaiian (thanks Lisa Shea - whoever you are.  I feel like you need some credit for that picture).  I chilled a little more and laughed a little more and sucked at pool a little more.

We went to grab some food after that - I don't know if it was the Blue Hawaiian talking or the fact that it was way past my bedtime and I was in a daze, but that restaurant had some of the best food I've ever had.  =Oink= 

We headed to the car with our leftovers and I sat down in my seat when M said, "We're not done."

We went to two bars that were both PACKED (with college students.  eeeeek.)

We were heading home when we heard some Bay music coming from somewhere.  We pulled up to where the music was coming from.  I had a Heineken (my first.  It was ok.  I prefer Corona or Apricot Weizen).

Some good music came on and M took me out on the floor.

I have never danced like that in my life.

I don't know if I did good or did bad or how many songs we danced to or what I looked like.  I didn't hear lyrics - I only felt beat.  I didn't see anyone - except for my M.  And I laughed and laughed and moved my body and snapped my fingers and held onto him, kissed him, let him go, turned around, dropped it down and let me go.  And we laughed.

It's hard to describe what I felt feel.  It's like I have a secret that I want to yell to the world.  How can I feel like this off of something so simple as dancing?

It's pretty simple, really.

 ps. morning after: my thighs hurt. my eyes hurt. my feet hurt. I really, really feel so good.