Song of the Week

I've gotten into the bad habit of listening to only CD's in my car because my favorite dance music radio station doesn't always come in loud and clear now that I've moved farther south.
In a hurry driving to work, I was tired of the CD I was listening to and just switched to the radio. I always feel like I've missed something anyway, I want to catch up. Is there some awesome song that just came out that will send me on this desperate hunt to find the artist and name? As annoying as that quest can be, I totally live for that moment of capture. When I download (completely legally of course) the song and listen to it for the first time on my computer there's always this feeling of excitement and completion. I really love it. There's just something about finding the song and then being able to listen to it whenever, not pining after a radio station, hoping they'll play it on the drive home while I'm stuck in traffic.
All of that aside, this time, as I'm in a rush to get to work, I hear a song that I'd heard before, Dido's "Sand in My Shoes". I've actually only heard the trance like remix, which I prefer for all Dido's stuff anyway. But as I'm driving toward the city where I use to live, for a moment, I look around me and I got sort of sad. Later that night I was going out to meet up with some co-workers at our usual spot and the song came on again. I’m a bridge that goes right through the heart of the city. All I could think about was how much I missed living in that area and all the things that had happened to me in the past year when I had been living there. It was about then this song opened up for me. I really heard the lyrics and I discovered what an awesome song this is.
She talks about having been away where she can watch a sunset and take her time. There is moments when I look around realize that life has flown by. I'm getting older. I'm trying to live my life, and I have to work hard in order to play hard. But I've been saying for a while that I need a vacation. I do actually need a moment to slow down and not think so hard.
As for the lost love, I've been there too. There's been that guy that you have your moment with and it seems silly to expect the romance to follow you home, sort of speak. So you say goodbye, but he does come home with you. His presence is there in your mind when you get back to the life you left. I've always found it amazing that even though people come and go in my life, so many linger on because I'm the one that can't let them leave.

Sand In My Shoes
By Dido (Above and Beyond Radio Edit)
Two weeks away it feels like the world should've changed
But I'm home now
And things still look the same
I think I'll leave it to tomorrow to unpack
Try to forget for one more night
That I'm back in my flat on the road
Where the cars never stop going through the night
To real life where I can't watch sunset
I don't have time
I don't have time

[Chorus:]
I've still got sand in my shoes
And I can't shake the thought of you
I shake it all, forget you
Why, why would I want to
I know we said goodbye
Anything else would've been confused but I wanna see you again

Tomorrow's back to work down to sanitation
should've run back ?? before I left here
Try to Mama show her that I was happy here
Before I knew that I could get on the plane and fly away
From the road where the cars never stop going through the night
To real life where I can't watch sunset
And take my time
Take up our time

[Chorus]

I wanna see you again
Two weeks away, all it takes to change in time around by
falling
I walked away and never said that I wanted to see you again

[Chorus x2]

I wanna see you again
I wanna see you again

Birthday After Party

With a birthday three days after Christmas it doesn’t really allow me to be able to throw a party the way I want. People are broke, or saving up for a New Year’s blowout. This just leaves me to making promises for a Clubbing Queen event some time in the next year. That and I can guilt trip people about it later too. I know I’m bad, but a girl has got to do what she can.
This year wasn’t as planned out as I normally get, and I made a lot of allowances for the fact that I will never be able to convert some people into club goers. I was also hoping that I could get my good friends from work to hang with friends I’ve made at other points in my life. That was the only goal I didn’t achieve.
I picked an Irish Pub that was a local hangout for some of my co-workers in the hopes of convincing them to at least have a beer with me. Now I didn’t pick this place specifically for that. I love the atmosphere at this Pub and the fish and chips are totally awesome. The drinks are good and the food is cheep. I figured that would appeal to everyone else.
As I had feared, no one from my work was going to my party, and I was going to end up driving down there and sitting at a table waiting. I am independent enough to do just about anything alone, but I HATE waiting for other people. There’s just something humiliating about being the only one in a whole seating area where it’s obvious that two tables have been moved together. Whether you’re expecting two thousand people to show up, it still just looks like every single person ditched you.
I did end up sitting there, feeling somewhat abandoned, for a good twenty minutes as I fielded phone calls from people telling me they would be late, or were still unsure as to whether they would make it at all. I was certainly starting to think I had been abandoned. I was also uncomfortable about the fact that I was use to sitting in a different section, and where they had put me was usually the dance floor. At some point in the evening they would either try to move us or kick us out. Real encouraging.
Then all at once several of my friends showed up. I love how people will show up in chunks like there is some sort of unwritten timing policy that requires people to show up in groups. Makes me wonder if there have always been people sitting outside waiting for a group to come by in order to go inside. I thought back to an indoor bar-b-que I threw where there were only three people at a time. If one person left, only one person would show up. If three left, then three more would come in. People are strange.
In the end we had just enough chairs to fit all the people. I had my cousin and his boyfriend, a friend that I’ve known since seventh grade, two people that I went to college with, and a friend that I met through an ex-boyfriend. Definitely an interesting crowd.
There were moments of total uncomfortable silence and those are moments that any party organizer totally dreads. You want everyone to have fun, but when they are all staring at each other with nothing to say, I always want to fill the silence or dig a hole to crawl into. It’s in a crowd situation, either dealing with total strangers or with people I know really well, that I prove to myself time and again how much I’ve changed. My ability to jump in and start a conversation back up or get someone else talking was never a talent I would have listed amongst my specialties.
In the end I feel like it went really well. That might have been because I had two (double strength) drinks before I had anything to eat. I was telling stupid stories about what I had been up to lately. Things like the harrowing tale of the Go-Go dancing audition. It was about then that several waitresses started moving tables off the floor and clearing around us, the non-so subtle hint to get going.
So it was just my friend Nicole and I that went on to the next destination in order to get in some dancing. Since before I was 21 Nicole and I were close because we both loved House music and loved to dance, empty floor or not. Before we even headed out to the cars, Nicole firmly stated that since it was my birthday (and the fact that parking sucks) that she would drive me that night. I was really happy, but then she’s always been awesome like that, and I totally owe her big time.
Making the switch to my dancing shoes, well boots anyway, and trading out my leather jacket for my track jacket that had deep zippered pockets. Having clubbed enough alone, I’ve developed this need to have everything important on my person in case something bad happens. This has left me with the insecure habit of always going out in jeans. I have to have pockets for my money, cell phone, and keys. Now if I have the money to splurge on checking a coat, then it must be one with secure pockets and an article of clothing that I won’t be to horribly upset if something happens to it. With all that arranged and settled, I left my car parked in front of the Pub and caught up with Nicole to head out. We were off to see what sort of trouble we could get ourselves into.
Our usual parking lot was strangely full by the time we got there. It was still pretty early in the evening, yet it was sort of encouraging that there would be a good crowd that night. Circling around we ended up at a parking garage that was cheaper, yet left you a perilous block to walk that involved dodging bums asking for money and just strange people pacing outside the clubs in the area. There was even a line to get into the club. I was honestly surprised. It had been quite some time since I had even seen let alone stood in a line for this club at barely ten-thirty at night.
There were actually people dancing when we walked in the door and Nicole and I were definitely pleased. This was a dancing crowd. The bottom floor was even already open. This is the first place I headed in order to get a drink. I had known this particular bartender for quite some time. Whenever he sees me coming, my favorite bottled drink has the cap off and is waiting for me on the counter by the time I make it through the crowd over to him. The first one is most always free. I’ve never taken that for granted. This acquaintance that I’ve made with him, he’s been the one to honor me with such treatment and I will always tip him something in the neighbor hood of twenty-five to thirty percent.
I checked my coat next and the girl that man’s that little closet has always been great to me. Coat check girls are almost notoriously either bitchy or oblivious. She takes your coat but you’re never sure if she didn’t just chuck it in a pile somewhere. I’ve never gotten her name, but she’s always cheerful and has remembered me from past visits. She is one of only two girls that I’ve tipped for taking care of my coat.
After the first drink Nicole and I began what I like to call “the prowl”. We were both looking to meet some new people that night. I just wanted to dance and to have a partner would be an added bonus. As we proceeded to wander from upstairs where the House music was playing to the basement where the DJ was playing hip-hop we kept an eye on the crowd. Although these people were definitely ready to dance and have a good time, it was depressingly comprised of couples. All the hot guys that showed some real flair on the floor had equally gorgeous girlfriends to keep them busy. It was frustrating as the night went on.
Deciding to stay upstairs where the music was at least what we really loved, I think we both resigned ourselves to just have fun without meeting any guys that night. Of course that’s the moment when something happens. It’s even sort of funny how it all happened since it was all a blur really.
I caught a group of guys dancing close by. Some were standing by watching the ones that were actually on the dance floor. Of the few that were dancing, the one white boy was totally busting a move! His friend was laughing his ass off at the performance yet standing in a comical fashion as if considering the whole display. I moved beside the dance judge and struck a similar pose of considering the dancing boy’s moves. The dance judge turned out to be a very good looking Asian guy. We talked for a moment about his friend who was cutting loose. Nicole was close behind and the guy dancing started to work his magic with Nicole. Shrugging I looked to my new acquaintance and we began to dance together as well.
From there we spent the rest of the night with this group of people. Nicole’s partner was named Tim and I was dancing with his friend Patrick. But at the time I barely heard what he had said when we introduced ourselves. At one point we convinced Tim to get up on one of the stages to show off, and did a pretty damn good job until the bouncer suggested Tim find another place to go.
Guys always think that it’s funny to dare me to go up on those tall boxes and dance, as if I’m going to be the average girl and giggle while flatly refusing. I always take it as a challenge, charging directly over there and jumping up on the platform at the first opportunity. I never want to step on another girl’s toes. The stage is her domain as long as she decides she wants it. The same courtesy I hope other girls will use when I’m up there.
I went up there a couple times and did my thing. There’s always a sense of freedom while I am dancing up on a stage or platform. I don’t have to worry about being stepped on or bumped into for that little bit of time. You get to look down on the crowd for a little while and feel important. See things from a different perspective, the DJ’s perspective. I always even fancy myself for a moment as an official Go-Go dancer for the club trying to keep the party going.
We danced, laughed and had an awesome time. When the lights came on at one-thirty in the morning I was honestly surprised. I really hadn’t felt like that kind of time had passed. Parting ways with the boys I went for my coat and Nicole and I headed out. Ironically we bumped into them again as we walked toward the car. Thank god I had the next day from work off. Everyone was hungry so we headed out to a Denny’s that I always use to hit up when I use to hang late with a DJ friend of mine. The caravan headed out.
So the night ended, or should I say morning started up at a Denny’s having coffee and a breakfast of sorts with these guys we met. Learning more about them, it was truly awesome to discover they were all college degree holding boys with impressive jobs. To be holding an intelligent conversation with several guys we had just met in the club and were all sobering up, was a hell of a treat. Tim picked up the bill for everyone’s meal, which surprised the two of us as well. Definitely a gold mine of well-mannered men.
Heading home at five in the morning, there is just a feeling of accomplishment that comes with a night like that. I danced all night, I drank enough to keep a healthy buzz with the help of two hot bartenders that I’ve known for some time, I met some cool new people, and I even jumped up on the stage a couple times to “show ‘em how it’s done.” There really isn’t anything more I could ask for.

Cheating and Dancing

I know that sounds like a juicy story is about to follow, but I just wanted an exciting title for this week's song lyrics.
I was actually writing about my weekend for my next post, when my mother happen to put on a new CD she had just bought. I've always liked George Michael but tended to favor his new dance stuff rather than his older softer hits from the 80's.
I was writing and singing along to the songs when suddenly one came on that I had never known was George Michael. "Never Gonna Dance Again" was a song I remembered from my childhood. I loved the song, and I still remembered all the words. But back then I could never understand what the song was really about.
Now as I listened and immediately searched for the lyrics in order to complete this post, I began to think how funny it was that maybe at most twenty years has past and now I could totally relate to that song.

Never Gonna Dance Again
By George Michael

ooohh
I feel so unsure,
As I take your hand
and lead you to the dance floor.
As the music dies...
Something in your eyes,
Calls to mind a silver screen,
And all those sad goodbyes.

I'm never gonna dance again,
Guilty feet have got no rhythm.
Though it's easy to pretend,
I know you're not a fool.
I should have no better than to cheat a friend,
And waste the chance that I'd been given.
So I'm never gonna dance again,
The way I danced with you.
ooohh

Time can never mend,
The careless whispers
of a good friend.
To the heart and mind,
If your answer's kind...
There's no comfort in the truth,
Pain is all you'll find.

I'm never gonna dance again,
Guilty feet have got no rhythm.
Though it's easy to pretend,
I know you're not a fool.
I should have no better than to cheat a friend,
And waste the chance that I'd been given.
So I'm never gonna dance again,
The way I danced with you.

Never without your love...

Tonight the music seems so loud,
I wish that we could lose this crowd.
Maybe it's better this way,
We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say.
We could have been so good together,
We could have made this dance forever...
But now, who's gonna dance with me?
Please stay...

I'm never gonna dance again,
Guilty feet have got no rhythm.
Though it's easy to pretend,
I know you're not a fool.
I should have no better than to cheat a friend,
And waste the chance that I'd been given.
So I'm never gonna dance again,
The way I danced with you.
oooh

Now-now that you're gone
Now that you're gone...
Now that you're gone...
Was what I did so wrong?
So wrong that you had to leave me alone?

Skribbled Out

Another Friday night rolled out and this time I had my heart set on a specific activity. I really wanted to go see DJ Skribble spin at one of my favorite clubs. Problem was I didn’t really want to tackle the crowds and the waiting around by myself. A certain someone really wanted to go with me but had gotten suckered into working that night. So I had figured it was up to me to go brave the situation alone, or be lame and sit at home pouting about how I didn’t go out.
Walking out of work I noticed I had missed two calls from the man in question. He’d found a way out of working late, and was getting ready to go with me. I was completely excited! Since I had gone to see DJ Dan at another of my favorite clubs, who is a DJ God in my opinion, I have been totally hooked on seeing famous DJ’s live in the club scene. The experience is totally unlike any other venue you could put a DJ.
Well upon getting home, this exciting evening hit a snag. I started over-thinking the situation. Jumping on-line I checked out the website and tried to get as much info on the event as possible. I normally avoid this club on the weekends because it gets so crowded you can’t even move. I’m a dancer, remember, if I can’t move what’s the freakin’ point? Now with a big name in the building, cover was sure to skyrocket and as well as the length of the line to get inside. Being female I do tend to be cold all the time, also my gender relates to the lack of clothing I tend to wear when going to a club. This combined with standing in a long line at eleven o’clock at night equals freezing my butt off. Minus ten points toward my decision on whether I wanted to go.
My shortage of monetary funds was majoring influencing my increasing lack of enthusiasm. Cover was free until ten o’clock. Good news, but other than the possible rush at that particular time this was combined with past experiences with that club. You see this club is crafty. They open early and do indeed have good bartenders and some awesome appetizers, but… Half the club is the “meet and greet” section with private tables that can be reserved, two bars and a couple lobby areas that you can mill around in. The other half of the club is the dance floor, which doesn’t open until eleven o’clock. So now the later it gets the club is cramming what feels like the fire capacity for the entire building into the smallest section. And that’s the drill I’m use to dealing with on Thursday. Not a weekend.
I also know from past experience this club is very proud of its “After Hours” availability. They want to keep most of the crowd there until two o’clock and then get the rest of the city’s crowd to stay until four in the morning. This means that the opening DJ will spin from ten o’clock to midnight or later. DJ Skribble would do an hour or two and then the after hours DJ would take over at two o’clock.
What does this mean for me, who was already kind of tired at six o’clock? I would have to get ready for a very posh club, go pick up Mister Man, head to out to the club at about nine, pay for parking and possibly wait in line. By the time I was frozen solid we would hopefully get inside before ten or we would then pay cover. Now it’s the waiting game. I’m sure he and I would stake out a corner and either drink or stare at each other because it would be just a little too loud to do a whole heck of a lot of talking. The minutes would probably drag by while we both people watched and I cattily made fun of what other girls were wearing. The floor would finally open and the rush would be like a mosh pit. After that I would get in what dancing I could before it got crazy. I would find my protector and we’d stake out another safe spot in order to head bob to the music and wait for Skribble to get on the turntables. By then I would probably be yawning like mad, and probably wouldn’t want to stay through his whole set. We’d go home, and well I don’t know if either of us would have found that fun at all.
So now we’re back to square one. Not a whole lot of money, my boy having gotten out of work to spend time with me, and well it was still only six-thirty in the evening. We needed another plan. This activity is not one either of us is very good at.
Miracles of all, we actually came up with something relatively fun and cheep to do and headed out with high hopes. We also headed out in similar looking track jackets. This seemed to be the first hint as to how funny this night was going to end up being. Playing pool at the Jillian’s in the south end. And here is where the real misadventure began.
For some reason once we got into town, I started giving horrible directions and his driving skills were a little on the comical side. We stopped at a grocery store where some woman made a comment about us being twins. After that I got us lost and then found again, we actually came upon close, free parking. While Mister Man was attempting to parallel I happened to look over and notice that the pool hall, not only wasn’t open, but the inside was completely torn up as if they were out of business completely. At first we just started to curse and then laugh. So much for having a plan!
So back to the north end we headed. My friend had never been to this particular Jillian’s and with all the other little mishaps that had happened that night, he began to joke about what else could happen. I mentioned that I could introduce him to my bouncer friend, but that I wasn’t sure what his intentions were. “What are you saying?” my friend asked. “Am I going to get my ass kicked?” My loving assurance was that it would be an interesting addition to the night. I know I’m a bitch but it was too funny.
We did find free parking again, and this Jillian’s wasn’t on fire or closed down. So in we went. The wait to get a table on the other hand was an hour. By now it was ten-thirty and I was starting to yawn. Walking about I noticed my bouncer friend and went over to give him a hug. As always his hugs tend to lift a person off the ground. I also got a big ole’ kiss on the cheek. When I turned to introduce my friend, he had completely disappeared. I talked with the bouncer for a few minutes and then he left with his group of friends. Mister Man reappeared and I laughed at him. He had seen the size of the bouncer and vacated the situation. Like a smart man, he had decided not to test how bad this night could get, whether I was kidding or not. I wasn’t too offended; I’m really not worth a fight anyway.
We ended up walking around for bit and I just didn’t want to sit out the wait for a table. We went to into the arcade and tried to brain storm another idea. I had no money, and I knew he wasn’t really up for going to a club, which neither of us was dressed for. I felt totally tired and disappointed that for all the good intentions; nothing had really come of the night.
On the road again we ended up heading to a different place to just get dessert and hang out. Even that place was packed but we got a table without much of a wait. By then I was definitely tired but the chocolate cheesecake was definitely good. Talking over the night’s events I couldn’t help but still feel like a total loser for not really doing much. I also felt bad that, with what Mister Man did to get the night off, we should have done something more.
There is also something to be said for misadventures. You really learn about the other person in those situations. Do they stress easily? Are they quick thinking? How easily going are they? We had managed to laugh our way through the whole thing. It could have been very uncomfortable.
Heck of a night. Even now I’m not really sure we shouldn’t have just tried to go see DJ Skribble, but either way it did end up in a funny tale of misadventure.

It's All About Geometry

It was a Friday night and I had just gotten paid, two really good reasons to go out and enjoy life. What was I doing that evening? I was sitting at home somewhat depressed since I had made a couple phone calls and gotten no really promising responses. Then out of the blue, a friend of mine calls me back. Hooray! I was invited to go out and play pool at Jillian's.
And so I was on my way to Mercer Island and then to Queen Anne Hill. This was the gathering of future opponents into one vehicle. After a little search for parking, and a very frozen walk to the door, we were at last inside. This is where the adventure begins.
While waiting for the bouncers to do the math with our ID's, two of them began to chat about another co-worker. "See that guy at the other door? He's hard-core. He'll yell at ya. He'll tell people stuff like, 'I only gotta tell you once!'" One of my friends confused this statement as being directed at him and the bouncer seemed almost embarrassed that he was so obviously "talking smack". Curious, I looked to the other entrance to see what sort of demon they were talking about. Oddly enough something about the stature and profile of the other bouncer made me wonder if I didn’t, in fact, all ready know this terrible ogre.
After receiving the stamp of approval I followed my friends inside to check the place out. None of us had actually been inside this particular pool hall. I use to play pool at a Jillian’s back when I was in college, so the set up was pretty much familiar. While everyone else checked out the surroundings, I was still trying to figure out if I knew the bouncer. No matter how smooth I tried to be about checking out the guy, he would never turn the right way to let me see his face. In some situations I can be pretty outgoing, except when I’m not one hundred percent sure what I’m dealing with. I figured I’d worry about it later and upstairs we went.
First destination was the bar. The boys wanted beer and nothing was going to stand in their way. Waiting in the line as always, the place was pretty busy. The “frequent types” were in place at the bar. These are people that you can tell are always there rain or shine. Then there’s the middle aged men in business suits wanting to unwind from the day and of course on their cell phones, they always hang one step out from the bar. There is that row of single seating that over looks all the action on the pool tables. It’s like they want to be apart of the fun yet work is still calling. From there it was the every other type of person you could put in a room, including an older gentleman that looked like Tony Montana and sported a leather “Scarface” jacket.
While scanning the crowd there’s always that accounting for possible eye-candy in the room. Looking certainly doesn’t equal shopping, but a girl never wants to be caught unaware. Besides something nice to look at, other than my team partner that could pass for Jude Law, might improve my game.
By the time we got drinks the rest of the party had gotten a table practically right where we already were. With the setting down of drinks came the undressing of layers. The weather was more that frigid that night and with the walk from the car I was more than grateful to have those layers. But we were about to embark on the ultimate competition; I needed to be free in form and able to show my best skill. That and it was freakin’ hot inside the building.
We were then informed that the roving waitress was very unhappy with our choice to purchase our tasty beverages at the bar and not through her. This basically was the foundation for our hard feelings towards this woman for the rest of the night. The first round should have been forgiven since it was more than obvious we had just gotten the pool table. It’s one thing to request the ability to receive the tip for the “fetch and carry”, but it’s a whole other thing to get into someone’s face and start making demands.
Well on we went with our game of pool. Pairing off into two teams; the couple that we came with against Jude Law and I. We proceeded to break the first set and get to work at making each other laugh. In a nutshell my love of the game is greater than my talent on the table. I was a little bit nervous about looking stupid in front of the other two, as well as making my friend wish I wasn’t on his team. But after the first couple shots were taken I felt extremely better. We all had our quirks but none of us was really any sort of expert.
After a while we started adding rules to make things harder since some of the games were getting so “sloppy” that it just didn’t seem fair. I was even improving as the games went on. At one point I ran the table for four different shots until I made a totally stupid mistake and tanked it. But at least I did have one shining moment of achievement for the night and made my partner proud of me for those five minutes.
So as we played pool, we played with that silly waitress. Well, more like she played with us. After she randomly appeared to take orders for the second round, she received a meager tip from one of the guys and nothing for the other. We had been all of one mind, that she would get the tip when we ordered our last round for the night. Apparently she completely disagreed, as she never returned to our section again. Really it was her loss; she was the one making the assumption that we weren’t worth her time. Anyway, the boys were happy enough with their beers, I on the other hand went to the bar to start a tab. I have never been blessed with that ability to always have cash on hand. This is a trick I hope I learn soon.
Some where in the middle of our evening a DJ had started spinning Hip Hop for a very empty dance area. I kept going to the railing to see if anyone was dancing. Not that I wouldn’t normally run down there and start the floor myself, I was off duty that night. I wanted nothing more than to continue dancing in-place with my pool cue. But if a dance floor did happen to start I wanted to be sure I didn’t miss out. I had thought I was being slick about this as well, but got cornered by my partner. “You want to go dance don’t you?” So much for playing off only a mild concern for my surroundings in that department, or proving my total focus on the rousing game of pool we were involved in.
This comment only seemed to be the springboard for my running analysis of the DJ’s talent. Since I started going to clubs, made acquaintances with those that do DJ, as well as fueled my own passion to one day spin, I’ve become quite the little critic. This particular DJ had an obvious passion for the musical arts that centered more in the “House” variety but had this strange compunction to switch back and forth between Rap and Trance like a light switch. Very annoying.
Well as the evening continued, and I continued to drink, the outcome should have been obvious, but I never think about it until it’s too late. I now had to pee and figure out where the bathroom was. Oh joy! But being the smart little cookie that I can sometimes be, I used the opportunity to go down stairs and figure out if that mysterious bouncer was indeed someone I knew.
The Bouncer of Death did turn out to be the person I thought it was. This is a man of huge stature, combined with a personality of equal size. Having been someone I’d gotten to know at a dance club downtown, I’ve always described him as one that has no fear. Several years ago I use to regale co-works with this man’s antics on an empty dance floor. The image of a six-foot five African American in a Secret Service like suit, doing either a River Dance or ballerina impression was, and still is, completely hilarious.
He recognized me immediately as I walked toward him. It was sort of nice to be greeted so warmly, such as his normal vibrant hugs that lift you off the ground. We talked for several moments before I had the courage to ask the terrible question of “Where’s the Bathroom?” Not only did I get directions, but I also got sent to the super secret bathroom that the public tends to miss. There is nothing quite like a clean, hardly used bathroom. Talk about nice!
Upon my return I talked with my bouncer friend a little longer, making comments as to the empty dance floor. This was returned with his statement that I needed to go start the floor and that the DJ sounded like he had just gotten his first set of turntables for Christmas this year. That was pretty much what I had thought earlier, but it was a better way of putting it.
I was feeling awful good with myself since I had come to a new place and was already acquainted with someone that was working there. I call these my “Rock Star” moments. As I’ve said before, and will say again, most of my teen years were spent as a quiet little person who no one noticed. I would watch and envy those people that just seemed to know someone everywhere they went. Now, it must be said that the ability to meet and make friends in the clubbing industry is not simple. But that is the stuffs of a whole other post.
Anyway, my friends were pretty much done with the evening when I returned. Upon going to close my tab I ended up with a person different than the one who had been serving me. This meant I had to try and pronounce my unpronounceable last name in that loud environment I like to call “too close to the DJ booth”. Once we got past that look of confusion as to why someone of my obvious nationality has such a complicated last name, then comes the search for my debit card while the person is trying to sound out my name and match it to the spelling on the card. Such a fun little game I have to play every time. This is why I want to learn that whole “cash in wallet” thing, and fast. Ordering one last drink and then signing the receipt, the bartender made some sort of silly ass remark over the obvious meager amount of alcohol in the contents of my choice beverage that just made me want to roll my eyes. Men can be so completely clueless as to how to be funny.
Promptly making fun of him to my friends, we then collected the pool balls and headed downstairs to pay. Problem was I had to put back on the layers I had shed when I first got there. Everyone else seemed to forget that and forged on without me. Drink in one hand, other arm caught in the sleeves of my coats; I’m sure I made quite the attractive sight.
Waiting to pay did leave me with more time to talk with my friend downstairs while he checked ID’s at the door. It was then that he decided to announce to my group of friends that he knew me from way back, and that the hat I was now wearing was only in answer to my patented dance move which always seemed to include me hovering my open hand over my forehead. This of course was to be followed with an impression of me, which he’s always loved to do. From the moment he said I started doing this at the dance club where I met him, he’s always loved making a big production over this move I never knew I did. At least I had a hat to validate the move now and I did my best to play the whole thing off while ushering my friends past him as quickly as possible. With those Rock Star moments, comes the embarrassment of people actually getting to know me well enough to also see my less than Rock Star quality quirks. Oh the double-edged blade!
As I drove home from Mercer Island I remember thinking how glad I was to know my pool partner. He has always proven to be an awesome friend. As for my friend the bouncer, I appreciated the fact that I learned humility with my Rock Star moments. It’s not about being a snob and flaunting your connections. You got to know that person for whatever reason and in return they got to know you. It’s not about being the flawless Rock Star. It’s about being a real person, which includes dorky little flaws.

Sound Track of Life

A long time ago, strangely enough, I happened to catch a part of the Oprah Show and Dick Clark was the guest. Other than his mysterious ability to seemly defeat time physically, he actually had some profound things to say about music on the whole. One statement in particular has always stuck with me. Basically he said that the music of your times is the sound track of your life. Any of us can hear a song and it connects us immediately with a memory. You remember where you where, what you were doing, and all the sensory stuff that goes with it.
Whenever I hear Funky Cole Medina by Tone Loc I think of Junior High dances. That dark, practically empty gym. The boys on one side and the girls standing on the other. Feeling horribly awkward and ugly. Stuff like that. Oh youth!
But then again it can sometimes work in the reverse. There was an entire CD that didn't really speak to me, when I bought it, until an event occurred in my personal life and suddenly everything made sense. Every song, every word, hit right to what I was feeling at the time. Indeed it turned into an entire CD sound track for that moment in my life.
Once a week I plan on posting the lyrics of a song that either seems to fit at the moment, or go way back for some life sound track favorites.

Secret (Take You Home) by Kylie Minogue is off the CD Body Language. I got this one for Christmas. It wasn't until I was driving to work one morning that the words to this song suddenly started making sense. It's a little more risqué than my current opinion on relationships, but it does have some interesting statements on keeping things simple and keeping it fun.

Secret (Take You Home)
Kylie Minogue

Rushing up on you like a freak in the fast lane
I'm on a mission to whip you into a hurricane
And when I overtake I'm gonna be in pole position
yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah

Are you ready for the change
If I let you stay, If I let you play
Will you lose or win
You can't kiss and tell
Will you pass it or fail
Let the games begin

Here's my secret
I'm a girl who likes her fun
And if you can keep it
Then you just might be the one
To come and party baby
But don't be misunderstood
I'll be cool, would you be cool
I wonder if I take you home

Nature should explore the physical
But don't confuse emotions with the pleasure principle
Just let me take a ride
And educate the corners of your mind
Yeah yeah yeah

RAP:Buckle up baby feel my speed
Take it from zero to sixty
Driving so hot like a criminal
The chase is irresistable
Gonna twist you round and manipulate
Watch you hyperventilate
That's just the way I get my kicks
So take it in baby, deal with it

Here's my secret
I'm a girl who likes her fun
And if you can keep it
Then you just might be the one
To come and party baby
But don't be misunderstood
I'll be cool, would you be cool
I wonder if I take you home

Here's my secret
You can keep it (keep it)
Party baby (don't be misunderstood)
I'll be cool, would you be cool
I wonder if I take you home

RAP:Buckle up baby feel my speed
Better not brake or you'll miss me
Driving you hard subliminal
Cause you're so irresistable
Let me pump you up with adrenaline
Get your headspace into a spin
Cause that's the way I get my kicks
So take it in baby, deal with it

Here's my secret
I'm a girl who likes her fun
And if you can keep it
Then you just might be the one
To come and party baby
But don't be misunderstood
I'll be cool, would you be cool
I wonder if I take you home

I wonder if I take you home

An Aspiring Go-Go Dancer

A couple months ago I got the opportunity to audition for the position of Go-Go Dancer at a casino. I took a friend with me and later he asked me to write a piece for his blog. Absolutjomo (He's got an awesome site so go check it out.) He wanted something that really shared my thoughts on the experience and just expressed my love of dancing as well. This was what got me thinking toward doing my own blog. And with every good place to start... it's the beginning.

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I had received an email from a friend of mine I hadn’t spoken to in quite some time. Amongst the usual, “here’s what I’m doing now” update, she had included a little side note, almost an after thought. “I saw this ad on Craig’s List,” she explained to me. “It’s apparently for some place that is looking for dancers.” She had immediately thought of me and sent the link in case it was a legitimate deal. Legitimate meaning not another strip joint or Gentleman’s Club looking for impressionable 18 year olds. After looking at the website I decided to find out more, and upon receiving a response, I was seriously excited to think that this may be the opportunity I have been looking for.
I am not, by any means, a classically trained dancer. Once upon a time, in 8th grade, a friend of mine decided to get me to dance with her so that we didn’t have to stand around like everyone else at those school functions. It sort of took off from there. Turning 21 wasn’t about being legally old enough to drink. It was about being able to get into real clubs so I could dance!
That “21 Run” had been researched for clubs specifically known for playing a certain type of music. About the same time I started dancing I had also discovered house music, or techno to everyone else. The genre had slowly grown to be a true passion of mine. After the novelty of being 21 had worn off, it was hard to find friends that wanted to go out and being a poor college student, there just wasn’t enough money to keep paying cover. By 23 I had basically stopped going out.
On a whim a friend of mine and I had decided to be naughty and ventured out to a club in Tacoma that was well known as a ghetto sort of meat-market. No respectable girl would pick up a guy there, nor would any respectable guy take his girl there. Sounded like fun to us. Now this is a huge place, with four floors of entertainment, the main floor being the length of the building. At 9:30 pm the party scene consisted of the bouncers, the bartenders, two DJ’s, and the two of us. As it turned out the main floor DJ was spinning this awesome House set; something completely unexpected for Tacoma. Not a soul on this huge dance floor, it was dark with the party lights going, and the last three songs had been some of my total favorites. I had to dance.
I walked right out there, much to the shock of my friend and danced. I danced my heart out. Everything else ceased to exist. It was just me totally letting loose and moving to music I totally love. No one bumping into me, no girls being judgmental about the way I’m dressed, and no men trying to decide how much to drink before I’m pretty enough to hit on. I closed my eyes and went somewhere completely different. When I came back over to my friend, the bar area was beginning to see life and several more people had just sat by to watch me.
That’s how it really started. That club became our “Cheer’s”. We got to know all those bouncers, bartenders, and DJs. Not because we got drunk and started hitting on random staff, but because we were there every weekend. We hardly drank and we tipped well. We were courteous to everyone we came in contact with. This stuck out to the people who worked there more than anything sort of drunken flirtation.
For me, I just became known as the dancer. I picked up all sorts of nicknames because I was the first on the dance floor at any club I went to. I was also good for business; I got people dancing sooner than normal because I broke the ice. I am your average, club-going person that doesn’t seem freaked out by the emptiness. All sorts of people would tell me that they admired me for having the courage to face a full room and yet an empty dance floor. Some would say that it was because of me they had the courage to get up and dance to their favorite song. It’s really sad how much of a DJ’s set is wasted because people need to get drunk first or just sit around waiting for some else to get things started.
Almost five years later, dancing is just a way of life to me now. I have to do it to keep my sanity. I go out alone. Yes, I go without other people, to dance the night away at whatever club. The people I’m close to know that when I’m getting really stressed out and cranky, that I haven’t been dancing. I really have no other source of release in my life, the way that dancing has come to be for me. Not only is it my exercise routine, it is also my time to really just let loose and relax.
Now for the record I have to clear up some misconceptions. Being known as the Clubbing Queen, this does not mean a number of things that automatically run through the general public’s head. I am not an alcoholic, nymphomaniac, airhead that takes home a random ugly guy every night. When I dance I hardly drink, if at all. As for men, I’ve gotten so use to dancing alone that guys seem to get in the way now. The pick up lines and cell number exchanges, that’s saved for later when he’s proven he can keep up with me on the dance floor. As for the nymphomaniac charge … well that’s none of your damn business.
How do I do it? That’s the question I get asked the most. I’m not one of those boldly gorgeous people that have tons of grace and deserve to be confident. I’m a simple girl that didn’t start wearing make-up until the night I turned 21. Clubbing clothes weren’t about looking sexy and showing skin; it was about surviving. Dancing for four hours straight in a club packed with bodies gets damn hot!
What it is about is a love for the music. Dancing is just one way of getting involved and expressing yourself to that music. That is why a person should dance for the love of the music and the feeling of dancing to it. Not because you look great, or you want to pick up some hot chick that is dancing alone, or because your drunk enough to think your Usher. Well correction; plenty of people have an awesome time at clubs for those three reasons alone. That’s just not how I see it. Those three reasons are also why people can’t just walk out to the floor at any time to dance.
The bottom line is that people as a society are deathly afraid of looking stupid in front of their peers. That is what keeps people from doing a million fun things when you really think about it. It’s not that I was never afraid of looking stupid. I’m not so sure that I don’t look stupid even now. Honestly, I’ve gotten years of positive feedback from complete strangers that didn’t automatically ask for my phone number in their next breath. Men and women alike have told me that they admire my passion or my style or even just my courage to be out there alone. Each time it was easier to go out there and just do what I felt.
In that love of the music, it’s different for everyone. House and Hip Hop are like two sides of the same coin to me. I love dancing to both for different reasons. House is something that just makes me want to move. Even if I’m just sitting down appreciating a DJ specifically, I’m still moving in my chair. I can’t help it. House takes me to a different place and sweeps me up into the sounds and experiences. It’s also an individualistic experience. I’ve never been able to dance with some else. It’s like my own private time to let loose and let my passion for that song or style really take hold of me.
Hip Hop is like an old favorite. These are songs you hear on the radio, songs you and all your friends know the words and can sing along to without feeling stupid. I’ve always seen it as more playful and interactive. I’m more likely to put on a show to Hip Hop, dancing a certain way, singing along and trying to get everyone else to join me.
That point brings me back to the audition opportunity that came out of nowhere. After receiving the reply that all the General Manager needed was a picture of me, I began a frantic search for something that would merely prove I was not the hunchback of Notre dam. Actually I have plenty of party pictures, but they’re of me after I’ve stashed my hair into a stringy ponytail, and my face is flushed both with sweat and from the exercise. Not exactly the gorgeous image I wanted to send to a future employer.
The evening of the audition I was nervous as hell. The previous night I had gone out and danced in two different clubs, getting my House and Hip Hop fix. Having been a month or more since I had been out, I needed the reminder as to my ability and the renewal of my passions as it was. When I walked in the door I was little disappointed with the size and the venue itself. This was no “night club”. This was a casino that was trying to get you to drink somewhere other than in front of the slot machine. Besides the nervous focus of my own performance, I was seriously worried about the one other girl that I was auditioning at the same time with. I figured with my luck she would be a gorgeous ex-stripper and I would be left overwhelmingly intimidated and three thousand times more nervous.
As it turned out the other girl auditioning was just another person like me; interested in the opportunity, but just as nervous. She even shared the fact that she had no experience club dancing. She’d only done more dramatic style stage performances. As the night proceeded I became over-confident. When we auditioned I was surprised to see that from the way she was dancing, it didn’t appear from her style that she had ever listened to Hip Hop in her life. She did an amazing job improvising if that case was true. I on the other hand was singing along with every song, loving life, and having an awesome time. Whether I looked sexy, making men drool and want to rush out onto the dance floor, I have no idea. And I think probably not. But I had a great time dancing as I always do, and for reasons I’ve always believed in. Have fun because I’m having fun and the song is awesome.
Before leaving I talked with two other girls that were hesitant about auditioning at a later date, after sticking around to watch the dancers that were already working for the casino. I reminded them that the money was good and the job would be fun. On the other hand, if you don’t love to dance the long nights of an empty dance floor would get on your nerves. Do it for the love of dancing or it’s really not for you.
Now as to my personal chances at being called back, it depends on what they were looking for. If they were looking for the same old Go-Go dancers that just shimmy about in one place with skimpy outfits that keep them from really moving for fear of accidentally showing more, then I am not your girl. If they’re looking for someone to add energy and try to get people up and on the floor because I look like I’m having fun. Then I am your woman. Wish me luck!

Epilogue

In a nutshell I didn’t get the job. After writing the General Manager about the outcome of the auditions and hoping for some feedback I received a rather harshly worded response that left me feeling none of the confidence that I had walked out of the audition with more than a week prior.
I had been really confident that I had shown my best ability and if they chose not to hire me it would be based on differences in style. The email left me feeling like I had never been the dancer I hoped I was, ever. Ironically as I took this rejection to heart, the people who have either been out with me or at least seen me dance have all stepped in to reassure me. One friend of mine actually suggested that managers must have me confused with the other girl I had auditioned with since our names were similar. Who really knows? All I know is that I plan to keep my eyes and ears open for the chance to try again. Maybe some day I’ll get the chance I only got a taste of back in Tacoma; two separate nights spent up on a balcony barely built to regulation. It was the experience of a lifetime and I will seek out the chance to do it for a living.

The Beginning of the After Party

The "After Party" has been anything from an extended hours club to a best friend's apartment. It's that final destination where you go to either chill out and sober up or keep right on going until the sun comes up. This is your chance to talk about the night you've just had with those you were already with or new people you've just met. Rehash the events, talk about that hot person you either did or wished you had talked to, heck try to remember how many drinks you had! In the end the "After Party" is either your time to sort out your night, or your final chance to make the story even juicier.
I've always been a story teller. After being the mousy sort that lived life as an invisible being, at 21 I started living my life a little bit more out loud. That usually means I come home with some sort of interesting story.
I plan to use this space like an After Party. This will be my chance to either sort out my night or share a darn juicy story. I also want the chance to maybe get more people interested in something that few people seem to consider a legitimate and satisfying past time... CLUB DANCING. It's come to my attention that people have strange ideas on what "clubbing" is about as well as the sort of people that go "clubbing".
So bare with me, I'm a terrible speller, and a busy person. I will do my best to do what I can to make this interesting.