On Friday night, some girls from Uni invited me to 'go dancing' with them at a club that plays 90s music. Nic was going to be away for the night so I thought I should actually be social and go.
So I did.
Oh Lord.
It's been a long time since I was in a place like this. Say maybe... five or six years. Well, look, not much as changed as far as I can tell, though it was... odd.
So, get this: girls dressed up in short dresses and huge heals. I saw one stick-thin girl cross the street in these massive heels and teeeeeeny tiny shorts, and I thought: why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we have to bear all, torture our feet, plaster our faces with chemicals, when the guy next to her was in jeans and a t-shirt? I thought about this the other day when we were at the beach. It suddenly struck me: picture a middle-aged man, overweight, beer gut, at the beach. He'd be in shorts, right? Stomach hanging everywhere, hairy chest, arms, legs, back, pink as a lobster. And our reaction? Well, we wouldn't have one, would we? Because that's fine, and normal. Now! Picture a woman- middle-aged, overweight, in a bikini, pink as a lobster. For most of us, I'd imagine the reaction would be quite different. And if not for us, then probably for people on the beach. I know my mother would have a depreciating thing or two to say. That's not fair, right? What's up with the double standards?
Anyway. Back to the club. We're all dressed up and packed in to this dance floor. Most of the people there looked to be between 19 and 27, I guess, except for one older gentleman who went wild for 'Walking on Sunshine', arms flailing wildly in the air, expression of glee plastered on his face. The music being played at this club seemed to give otherwise sane and reasonable people an excuse to regress to highschool and sing 'Barbie Girl', 'Blue' (by Eiffel ...65?) and various SpiceGirls songs at the top of their lungs, hips jerking and occasionally trying to sexy-dance.
I'm sorry.
You cannot sexy dance to Wannabe.
And I think that was what confused me the most, was that a song came on, and I wanted to yell "LAME!!!" but that was the point, right? Don't get me wrong, it was fun (but too crowded. Dancing when someone else's back is pushed up against your back as they writhe back and forth isn't so hot), but my brain was having a hard time processing.
Might have to try and include some lame 90s (though to be fair, most of the songs our group knew where very late 90s to early 00s) in our wedding playlist.
And speaking of, I think we've decided on our 'walking down the aisle' (and I'm still not sure in what fashion we'll be doing that, yet), leaving the ceremony, and first or last dance music.
Yup, I'm making progress, y'all. This thing will be planned by April. Then it'll be down to all the DIY stuff we've foolhardily taken on.
Showing posts with label music and dancing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music and dancing. Show all posts
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Friday, December 24, 2010
actually something related to a wedding!
Oo, a wedding-related update! Keeping in mind my tendency to trail into tangents at a moment's notice and end up writing about the kitten (who, by the way, is just fricken adorable)(and about whom I get mocked regularly because apparently I was a self-proclaimed cat-hater... I would argue I never went that far, more that I just prefer dogs... I'm more a dog person than a cat person, but hey, my kitten seems about as close to a dog as I could hope. Does she wrestle with Mallei, despite his 200% difference in weight? Why yes, yes she does. Does she kamakazee fearlessly into everything? Yup. Is she unflinching when we drop something noisy or sneeze? Sure is. And at the same time, is she cat enough? Lap sleeping- check (and neck, shoulder, chest, shins...), purring (LOUD)- check, leaping- check, riding around on our shoulders like a parrot? check. In all, she's awesome, moving on). Also, apologies for my extended use of parentheses (I know them as brackets, but parentheses sounds more fancy, despite the fact that I had to look up the term to make sure I wasn't going to look a fool).
Moving on to the actual point of this post (and hidden so Nic won't read it accidentially. Yes, that means stop now, love.)
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