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dance, dance, dance
Friday, Aug. 29, 2003 | link

I went dancing last night! At Popscene! I got home at 3:30 in the morning! After a grilled-cheese and chocolate-banana-shake detour through Sparky's!

Holy crack was Popscene awesome. For three hours straight I jumped up and down and twisted and pointed and snapped and unsnapped (both Jill and Jeremy were wearing snap-up tops, which had to be torn open at peak moments in certain songs -- I also got the top button of the shirt of one (1) dentist) to the tunes of Ladytron, The Smiths, Pulp, New Order, The Lovemakers, Iggy Pop, and et cetera.

When I got home (again, I say, at 3:30, in the morning, on a school night), my ears were ringing like I don't remember them ringing since those junior high school dances. What does this mean? Is that something I have to do now, wear earplugs when I go dancing? That is so lame, so supermom. Though not, I guess, as supermom as that one time at Popscene, about three years ago now?, I went up to one of the "all ages" young things who was gleefully jumping and singing along to some new-to-me song and asked, "who IS this?" and she yelled, "The Strokes!" and I said, all what-the-HELL, "the SCROTES?"

(PS: All-ages clubs are the best. Not only are the little dancers so agressively cute in their retro-for-the-first-time-again 80s hotpants and eyeliner and ridiculous white shoes, but there's NO WAIT AT THE BAR. And if you're an of-age male, apparently holding a beer gives you so much status, it's enough to get all the little girls flocking over to talk and dance at you. So simple.)

I also learned that my $2.50 Payless Shoe Source jeans-on-jeans shoes (the ones that are padded around the top to make my feet look a little like the rounded and useless feet of muppets) are the perfect dancing shoes, comfortable and full of torque. My bra, on the other hand, did me no favors whatsoever. That's one of the other side effects of the appendectomy: none of my bras fit right anymore, not even the million dollar perfect bra. Huh? It's not like my appendix lived in my tits or anything. (Or DID it?) Anyway. Next time, I'm totally wearing a jog bra. And a sweat bands. And earplugs. Look out!

(PS: My diary has officially moved over to my official evany.com website. Let's meet up over there!)

(PS: My diary has officially moved over to my official evany.com website. Let's meet up over there!)

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