Dance Dance

Since I have three papers due this week, I decided that I was only allowed to leave the apartment for one night over the weekend. I also decided that if I was only going to escape from homework for one night, I'd better make it good. It seemed like the best option was to join my friends on their trip to the High Noon Saloon for Indie Queer. At first I was a little apprehensive. I mean, I've always been a bit on the preppy side and a horrible dancer, so I figured I probably wouldn't fit in at a wild dance party and drag show, but after we spent some time at Frida's, I started to get into the idea. I wriggled into my roommate's skinny jeans, smeared on some body glitter, and broke out the glow sticks. Basically the night consisted of lots of wildly dressed bodies moving all over each other in a relatively small space. I danced like crazy the whole time, even on-stage (completely unprecedented), and some guy told me multiple times that I was a fantastic dancer. I think he was either on something or thought I was really cute. My roommates attribute it to a combination of the skinny jeans and Carmen Electra and Dancing With the Stars workout tapes. Yes, that's right. I do Carmen Electra Fit to Strip and Dancing With the Stars workouts and I probably brought out my new moves on the dance floor. Whatever it is, I am definitely a dance party convert.