Silly F*&% Songs
This weekend has been jam-packed, and it's not even over yet. Friday night I went to a club called Chop Suey in Cap Hill, for a show called Bootie. I did indeed shake my bootie, and the mashups were fun. Seriously, seriously fun. (Whoop whilst frowning fun. Wait.) I wasn't able to nab one of the free CDs, but ironymaiden did, and I'm hoping she'll share songs. The DJs were really good, and while there were a few mashups that didn't work for me, for the most part they were either surprisingly apt or hilarious, or both. Like this. And this (includes swearing). And while they did have oil smoke pouring from a dragon's mouth near the door, the smoke mostly stayed there, by the door, and didn't come onto the dance floor at all. For which I and my lungs were grateful. Why do dance places do that? That stuff is foul.
There was a DJ (I don't know any of their names) who was a little on the overweight side, beard, ugly plaid shirt, who seemed to enjoy using 80s songs as a base, and then putting more modern songs on top of them. One of them used "Love is a Battlefield" as the under song, which all us old fogies were excited about, and then on top was some rap song sung by a girl that seemed to be called "What you know about me," (the song not the girl) that was very 'tude and sassy-full. The refrain was something like "My lipgloss is hoppin, my lipgloss is cool, the boys are all stoppin, they chase me after school." The DJ was into this song, knew all the words, had moves down, was just dancing all over the stage with his bad self, lip syncing and waving arms. It was awesome.
What I didn't enjoy so much was the overcrowding by 1030, and the fact that I am old and have no tolerance for stupid kids. No really, it's getting so much worse as I get older. I feel like waving my cane right now. Where did I put it? For example, our group of mostly older than 35 year olds was sort of in the middle of the floor as the evening started. But we're polite, you know? Perhaps too polite. And if people are trying to get past us, we let them past. And then they spill drinks on you as the pass, because drunk stupid kids can't hold their liquor, nor can they HOLD onto their LIQUOR, assholes. And then more kids threaded past us, stopped short next to us and started basically pushing us off of the dance floor because as a rule, we didn't tend to shove back. And while you do tend to jostle up against people on a crowded dance floor, and it's all good; after awhile of being stepped on and elbowed, you either elbow back or move away. Maybe we're just all too nice. Also I'm not one to really want a bar fight. Even if in my head I thought very cruel thoughts. Most of which consisted of "Get Off My Lawn."
My biggest "Get Off My Lawn" time was when I went to the bar. It turns out that they were selling ear plugs, which, as we were getting pushed into the speakers at that point, seemed like an excellent idea. So one of my dance friends led me to where they were selling them (after spending some time trying to shout the information at me over the almost visible noise) and I stood at the bar for Twenty Minutes so I could order a coke and ear plugs. Which was ridiculous, but that's how the crush at the bar was. So I stood, waiting my turn as you do, and had two different guys stumble and spill drinks on my as I was just standing there, both of them because they were trying to get away from the bar and the crush was that bad, but also because they were drunk and clumsy and not looking. I felt like such a grandmother, but their "huh, sorry" was neither sincere nor enough. They both needed to be smacked upside the head. And told that trespassing on my property was a caning offense. Hmmph!
But then I had the coke, and the ear plugs, and I felt much less crabby, and went back to dancing. Until about midnight, at which point we were pretty much pushed all the way off the dance floor, my knees were creaking, and I turned into a pumpkin. I decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and that since I'm an adult with responsibilities, it was time to hike the 29 blocks to where I finally found a parking space (note, hyperbole used occasionally on this blog) and head home. (Although just to illustrate a point, I was about 4 blocks from Misty's old place where I finally parked. Which place took me about 20 minutes to find. I almost ran out of gas.) My knees complained the whole way home. They would like the rest of me to get off of their lawn. Or at least their tendons.
As for the rest of the weekend, well, yesterday there were chores and responsibilities, and dance class. Which, and here I'm blaming the cold and my apparent descent into a senior citizen at the age of 38, I was late for. I was late not because there was traffic or external problems, but because I went into a time warp or a parallel universe wherein Saturday's class starts at 1230. It used to start at 1230. Like, a year and a half ago. Or two years. Anyway, some time. But it now starts at noon. I was so confused when I got to class, to see them already almost through the warmup. My brain just sort of stuttered, lost - what happened here? And I was so certain of the time that it wasn't until I really started joining in the class that it dawned on me. I was half an hour late. Luckily, Laurel is a forgiving sort, and I managed to use the end of the warm up to my advantage and still get a good class in. Sheesh. Even my brain is old.
Then last night there was a dinner with jaylake , who was/is in town for, um, just for kicks, I think. A bunch of us went to dinner to celebrate bravado111 's birthday at Buca di Beppo's, with predictable results (Hilarity ensued.) The noise level in that room I think almost rivaled the noise level at Chop Suey the night before. But with more cheese. Mmmmm, cheese. There were evil punching clowns involved. As there are.
After that, Scott and I went to a dance friend's house, who was having a karaoke party. We stayed there for an hour or so, and I chatted with another dance friend, and then we (Scott and I) decided that our collective knees had had enough, and it was time to go home and pet cats. Possibly while shaking canes. (Note: Cats do not like the shaking canes part.)
Today is slightly more relaxed to start with. I made blueberry muffins for breakfast, and now I have to get to my chores, and then I have rehearsal at 130. (Yes, 130. I checked.) Then Scott and I are going for a pre-Valentine's dinner, because I have rehearsal tomorrow night, too. So today is the heart day. With chocolate, if I have anything to say about it.
So all y'all have a happy heart day, with hearts sent from me to you, and take care of your knees. Because they are such whiners.
There was a DJ (I don't know any of their names) who was a little on the overweight side, beard, ugly plaid shirt, who seemed to enjoy using 80s songs as a base, and then putting more modern songs on top of them. One of them used "Love is a Battlefield" as the under song, which all us old fogies were excited about, and then on top was some rap song sung by a girl that seemed to be called "What you know about me," (the song not the girl) that was very 'tude and sassy-full. The refrain was something like "My lipgloss is hoppin, my lipgloss is cool, the boys are all stoppin, they chase me after school." The DJ was into this song, knew all the words, had moves down, was just dancing all over the stage with his bad self, lip syncing and waving arms. It was awesome.
What I didn't enjoy so much was the overcrowding by 1030, and the fact that I am old and have no tolerance for stupid kids. No really, it's getting so much worse as I get older. I feel like waving my cane right now. Where did I put it? For example, our group of mostly older than 35 year olds was sort of in the middle of the floor as the evening started. But we're polite, you know? Perhaps too polite. And if people are trying to get past us, we let them past. And then they spill drinks on you as the pass, because drunk stupid kids can't hold their liquor, nor can they HOLD onto their LIQUOR, assholes. And then more kids threaded past us, stopped short next to us and started basically pushing us off of the dance floor because as a rule, we didn't tend to shove back. And while you do tend to jostle up against people on a crowded dance floor, and it's all good; after awhile of being stepped on and elbowed, you either elbow back or move away. Maybe we're just all too nice. Also I'm not one to really want a bar fight. Even if in my head I thought very cruel thoughts. Most of which consisted of "Get Off My Lawn."
My biggest "Get Off My Lawn" time was when I went to the bar. It turns out that they were selling ear plugs, which, as we were getting pushed into the speakers at that point, seemed like an excellent idea. So one of my dance friends led me to where they were selling them (after spending some time trying to shout the information at me over the almost visible noise) and I stood at the bar for Twenty Minutes so I could order a coke and ear plugs. Which was ridiculous, but that's how the crush at the bar was. So I stood, waiting my turn as you do, and had two different guys stumble and spill drinks on my as I was just standing there, both of them because they were trying to get away from the bar and the crush was that bad, but also because they were drunk and clumsy and not looking. I felt like such a grandmother, but their "huh, sorry" was neither sincere nor enough. They both needed to be smacked upside the head. And told that trespassing on my property was a caning offense. Hmmph!
But then I had the coke, and the ear plugs, and I felt much less crabby, and went back to dancing. Until about midnight, at which point we were pretty much pushed all the way off the dance floor, my knees were creaking, and I turned into a pumpkin. I decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and that since I'm an adult with responsibilities, it was time to hike the 29 blocks to where I finally found a parking space (note, hyperbole used occasionally on this blog) and head home. (Although just to illustrate a point, I was about 4 blocks from Misty's old place where I finally parked. Which place took me about 20 minutes to find. I almost ran out of gas.) My knees complained the whole way home. They would like the rest of me to get off of their lawn. Or at least their tendons.
As for the rest of the weekend, well, yesterday there were chores and responsibilities, and dance class. Which, and here I'm blaming the cold and my apparent descent into a senior citizen at the age of 38, I was late for. I was late not because there was traffic or external problems, but because I went into a time warp or a parallel universe wherein Saturday's class starts at 1230. It used to start at 1230. Like, a year and a half ago. Or two years. Anyway, some time. But it now starts at noon. I was so confused when I got to class, to see them already almost through the warmup. My brain just sort of stuttered, lost - what happened here? And I was so certain of the time that it wasn't until I really started joining in the class that it dawned on me. I was half an hour late. Luckily, Laurel is a forgiving sort, and I managed to use the end of the warm up to my advantage and still get a good class in. Sheesh. Even my brain is old.
Then last night there was a dinner with jaylake , who was/is in town for, um, just for kicks, I think. A bunch of us went to dinner to celebrate bravado111 's birthday at Buca di Beppo's, with predictable results (Hilarity ensued.) The noise level in that room I think almost rivaled the noise level at Chop Suey the night before. But with more cheese. Mmmmm, cheese. There were evil punching clowns involved. As there are.
After that, Scott and I went to a dance friend's house, who was having a karaoke party. We stayed there for an hour or so, and I chatted with another dance friend, and then we (Scott and I) decided that our collective knees had had enough, and it was time to go home and pet cats. Possibly while shaking canes. (Note: Cats do not like the shaking canes part.)
Today is slightly more relaxed to start with. I made blueberry muffins for breakfast, and now I have to get to my chores, and then I have rehearsal at 130. (Yes, 130. I checked.) Then Scott and I are going for a pre-Valentine's dinner, because I have rehearsal tomorrow night, too. So today is the heart day. With chocolate, if I have anything to say about it.
So all y'all have a happy heart day, with hearts sent from me to you, and take care of your knees. Because they are such whiners.