Of Drunken Ramblings

Cocktails with Lainie!

Cocktails with Lainie!

So I haven’t done straight shots in – my guess is two years. But tonight, less than an hour ago, my roommate Lainie and I decided, “LET’S HAVE COCKTAILS!!!”. Followed quickly by me stating, “Hey, wanna just take a shot? I haven’t drank straight liquor since those half-naked make-out party days.” So we poured two shots of orange vodka (because we have a shit ton of it), and our night went from Lainie reading and me playing the piano, to us dancing around the house and making pasta.

There’s a reason I don’t do shots. It’s fucking disgusting. Makes my whole body shiver when the alcohol passes through my system. Lainie just hates lime, which baffles me. 

So now I’m legitimately drunk, for the first time since I chugged my friends whiskey drink that I couldn’t taste and assumed was rum. And my guess is, shortly after I make the mistake of posting this – I’ll be even drunker. But hey, I’m in my house, wearing plaid pants, listening to cliché club music. So what’s the harm? None I say, so let the drunken adventures begin.

Perhaps we’ll go for an adventure and Pocahontas around the river bend behind our house, or maybe we’ll stay inside and keep drinking/dancing around our living room – occasionally attempting a fancy hula hoop trick. Regardless, I doubt I’ll be taking straight shots again anytime soon. With the exception of in the next ten minutes, for Lainie and I just discussed taking another shot …

Though I must admit, it’s quite effective. And I developed a new appreciation for #hashtags.

PS – not missing my college days of attempting to write a paper in such a state of mind. Although – they were pretty damn impressive.

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Of the Sleeping Schedule Myth

Girl sleeping

Click image to view source

When I graduated college I bought into this myth that I would develop a normal or at least constant sleeping schedule. I was under the impression that not having homework would mean that I would not have to stay up till 3AM only to wake up at 8AM. Lies. Filthy, curse you Satan, lies. If anything I’ve gotten worse. For instance, last night I was up till 5ish in the morning, and tomorrow I have to work at 8:30AM. But I’m still going to go to Blues in Canada tonight.

At least when I was in school I had a set time that I had to be alive and functioning (or sitting in a desk pretending I was interested). Yes, I had to stay up late for school. And yes, I had to work a part-time job that often meant not getting home until midnight. I had excuses.

Now my reason for being tired when I open at work are far less impressive.

I went from saying, “I’m so fucking tired. I didn’t get to sleep until 3:30AM because I had to finish this damn fiction story. I’m still not completely satisfied with the piece but it’s turned in on time and that’s what matters. Then I had to read 50 pages for my lit class and finish programming a web page for my CSS project.” – I sound super smart.

To saying, “I only got like 4 hours of sleep, but at least I had an awesome time dancing tonight. Totally worth it … when does the coffee shop open?” – this one I’ll probably say until I lose my ability to dance, and I’m fine with that.

Or saying, “Oh my God I’m so sleepy. I only got like 3 hours of sleep because I got sucked into to watching Charmed on Netflix and I had to know what happened to Cole and Phoebe.” – damn you Netflix and my addiction to television shows (especially one’s that center around magic or fantasy)!

I guarantee you that tomorrow, about 4:30PM. I’ll get home from work, pass out, and wake up when I should be going to bed in the first place.

Maybe when I get a real job I’ll sleep like a normal person.

 

 

Of How to Start the Party

Me Dancing

Time to get my dance on.

I’ve been going out dancing since I was eighteen. At first I was awkward (as many are), unsure of how to move my body to music (had no personal style), and didn’t feel confident dancing alone (finding a grinding buddy was a must).

Quickly I learned how to shimmy my ass off and move around the floor. My greatest discovery being that I don’t have much of a butt, thus trying to shake it like the other girls made me look plain weird. Isolating the torso to this day is my strength. Through the basic motion of moving my ribs from side to side I am able to create the illusion of having hips like Shakira. People say I appear sexy and creative when I dance, in reality I’m doing six moves on repeat.

Thanks to my five-year background maneuvering around the club scene, I am highly practiced at starting the party. With the exception of my dancing buddies, most my friends have only ever heard me go on and on about my extreme dance obsession: Blues, swing, Scottish Country, square, clubbing, etc. It’s a wonder they even put up with my jabber. So when we I went out with my non-dance friends for a farewell bash, they were all shocked and amazed by how quickly I can fill a dance floor (two different clubs, both nearly empty, it was crowded within five minutes – not that I’m bragging…).

And right now, I’m gonna tell you the secret.

The key to starting the party is patience. I don’t just mean waiting for people to start moving. I mean waiting for the right song. A song that is popular and everybody seems to love, aka something from the Top 40’s list. Also, 90s hits are always safe choice, especially if the song is hip hop, I cannot stress that enough. Clubrats love 90s night.

Next is confidence. Whether you are a good dancer or not, you have to own it. If you’re shy you probably don’t believe me, but there is something equally attractive about someone who throws themselves into their moves (even if they are far from stellar) as the person who is wickedly talented in the dance department. The reason is because of confidence, people don’t care if you are good, they care if you look like fun to hang out with.

The last part takes practice – come across as appealing. Balance being sexy with dorky. Seductive with quirky. Vixen with wacky. You want people to feel gravitated towards you and yet comfortable to dance near you. If you’re too good, too sexy, then people will tend to shy away in fear of your talent – except for a few creepers that may try to hit on you. Mixing the playful side of your personality might mean busting out the sprinkler or pulling a friend who is an average dancer onto the floor with you.  My go to is hopping. Yup, hopping. In between torso twirls I’ll bop about on my toes with my arms above my head.

If all else fails do the macarena – I’m serious, you can do the macarena to any pop/hip-hop song ever made. Just wait for the bridge or chorus with an 8-count beat.

Let’s recap: remember patience, remain confident (they can sense fear), and balance your sexy self with your playfulness.

Oh, I almost forgot, it also helps to use the space around you. Try not to stand in one spot the whole time.

End of lesson. You are now educated with the basic rules for adequately starting the party. After a little practice you won’t even realize you’re doing these things, until that fateful day when a less skilled friend points out your talent.

Me Dancing With Arms Up

Put your hands in the air, wave them like you just don’t care! Hey! Ho! Hey! Ho!

Of Dancing the Blues

Say we were to meet while waiting in line at a coffee shop and we got to chatting, odds are we’d ask each other what we like to do. I don’t know what you enjoy. Maybe you’re a hiker, a baker, a contortionist, or a movie junkie; maybe you like to break into SeaWorld and go for joy rides on Shamu or sit around in your underwear watching America’s Next Top Model reruns; maybe you go horseback riding, sky diving, or train dogs (obviously I’d find out in conversation). My response would be simple: I dance. But if you wanted more detail I would probably start talking about my favorite, Blues, a style which if my memory is correct came about during the 90s (my favorite era for almost everything).

I haven’t been into Blues for all that long, about a year I’d guess, but I quickly fell in love when I watched my future teachers demonstrate it at a swing dance event. Blues is damn sexy. What’s challenging is explaining the style to people who have never seen or even heard of it. That’s about as easy a task as teaching a toddler advanced chemistry and expecting them to ace their midterm the next day.

It’s all about connection and feeling the music as well as communicating with another person. What’s beautiful about Blues is I can look out on the dance floor during the song below, for example, and everyone will be dancing different. Some dance fast, other’s slow, a few couples are two feet apart, or even nearly upside down, and there’s those have maybe an inch between them:

Sometimes the dance is about large movements, crazy dips, and footwork. Others its about subtle movements and it’s a much more intimate dance. I’m not a Blues teacher, I’m just an enthusiast so forgive me if you still have no idea what I’m talking about (if you want a visual, the first video is a demonstration of Blues). How I dance often is dependent on the leads personal style and the level of trust I have with him. Some leads incorporate a lot of swing or tango, and some I would allow to dip me about as willingly as I’d let them dump a bucket of bleach on my head (most likely these are new people). If the lead is my friend I probably trust him and I’ll let him do pretty much whatever, as long as it’s still a dance obviously. With leads I trust I’ll do lifts, or dips where I end up being caught only two inches from the ground.

When you walk into a Blues dance there’s an energy that’s shared by everyone there. It’s a community. Ladies, here’s the reality. In traditional roles (men lead, women follow) there’s always an abundance of follows. This means that often you’ll have to not dance even though the song is probably super awesome, this is both a blessing and a curse, the men rarely get to sit down – especially if they are good leads. But unlike with other social dance styles sitting on the sidelines doesn’t feel awkward (at least in my experience). There’s days or moments when I’d rather sit and watch people dance, it’s beautiful and captivating. And as I said earlier – damn sexy.