so keep the lights dows low, oh oh! you know...

I woke up twice sensing that my body was not too excited about mobilizing even as much to pull the covers back over me. But, third times a charm and one squirm and one flip later I reached a heavy hand to the keyboard. Click. Madonna's "Like a Prayer" came singing out, calling my body vertical. Eyes still closed, my body began to wiggle and bop. I heard old internal dialogues go off in my memory ("I wanna take you a-bahbah hit!"), left over from a dance that has been one of my favorite performances ever. My senior talent show, I choreographed a piece where nuns ripped off their habits and busted a move. I loved the scandalous fit that rural Cowtown board members threw over it. I smile, and cart wheel out of bed in time for the chorus choreo.

Last night was fun. Sir Dob apologized more than once, though, I myself don't see why. Dobfest. I rushed with Every Avenue to the Greenroom to sign in and check with my Swings, then ran with All Time Low to the Vibe Lounge. How nice it is to go to a place more comfortable than your own home. I know that may seem twisted, yet, it's truth. I met a smiley Emma at the door, so cute and super cool working the event in the leather jacket that she's just borrowing before she actually gives it to me. Rather than the standard X or B, she sharpied a blue heart with double B's in the middle. This guest hearts band boys. Nice, though I think technically in that room only 1 out of my 3 were in the band. I FINALLY saw Holden Pan (I'm sorry Ricky!)and again, Gabriel stole my simple little scene heart. Why DO they play Gold Coast last? I saw things I didn't want to see, but the curses come with the gift and I'd rather 'see beyond' than live blindly.

Every time it gets a little better. A little more together in the chest, more apart in the joints. Loud music will do that to you. I discovered last night that all my friends can dance. I decided it was because they were all either dancers or musicians with adequate rhythm, yet still, I was halted in my own shuffling to stop and stare. Stealing inspiration like Winona Ryder in a vintage shop. Thank you Jacob, Tomer, Stevie Pipes, Jack, Zachary P., and Melana. And did I say TOMER? lol nice kid. We got sweaty fast, making us sticky with smiles and though the songs were not in our heartbeats, they were certainly in our pulses.

Certain birthday goers had the familiar issue of DND: dancer not dancing. I know this syndrome. Sometimes after a dancer has trained so hard to be in tune with controlling every muscle movement in themselves, it's easy to forget how to let go and shake your hair around a little. Forget about the fact that there's no choreography, this is how choreography gets made. Just jump. Jump until you don't feel good. Or take pictures of me, I'll pose for you any day lol.

I, of course, did silly scene gurl things. Ya know, the things I do when I get too brave for my own good. I looked for too long, until there was eye contact, I texted when I could've waited, I offered compliments with that smile that Mike McG knows is all too guilty beneath the surface. Andre Palmer and I have seemingly found something new to bond over, that is, getting into trouble. We're both real good at it and are in the process of developing our codified language so that Nate will never find out what we're actually discussing. : )

In retrospect, which is the tense I always think in on the car ride home, the darkness was fun. It's easier to see certain things in the dark, though harder to learn lessons. Those come in the light reality after wards. But there's spotlight in the dimness that takes both purpose and patience to achieve. And it's my favorite kind of center stage.





...Shawty Watch-a-lot.
"Your Love" by: The Outfield