Dance party

Last night:

I am not as brave as you all think! I chose a blouse-y dress (some might say "muu muu") that maybe would have hid the bump a few weeks ago but these days? NOT SO MUCH. But it was a treat to be out on the town, CG looked so dapper in a three piece suit (What is it about vests on men? I LOVE THEM.) and I was comfortable. Well, about as comfortable as I could be in high heels, on a concrete floor, in a Clockwork Orange-y former power station-turned circus cabaret club complete with nearly nekkid ladies hanging in sheer fabric slings from the ceiling. Add in the loud music and young hipsters drinking all around me and, well, I felt pretty darn wrinkly and shrivelled and yet BLIMPLIKE. It was strange to be without a cocktail in my hand and I had no choice but to accept the forcible offering of a mouthful of cotton candy from the bosom of a woman (?) dressed as Marie Antoinette (don't ask). Also, I have apparently forgotten how to make small talk, witty banter, or even hold BASIC CONVERSATIONS. Oy.

But the only really sad part was: THERE WAS NO DANCING.

I watched the women hanging from the ceiling and later, the circus women dancing in a circle and I felt a pang. I used to do this. Well not this. But something like it. I used to be fit and nimble and OH MY GOD MY HEAD JUST WENT TO "JACK BE NIMBLE". It's way past my bedtime.


This morning:

I got up with Zoe and she wanted a dance party before breakfast. She chose"1234" by Feist, her current favorite dance music. And then she wanted to see the 1234 video on YouTube, the one with the "dancers and tumblers and lady in the blue dress". We watched it and tears sprung from my eyes. I love that video. I want to be in that video, to crawl inside and live in that video. I want to move like that again, be apart of something like that again. Dance.

So we danced.





(By this point, I was tired and Zoe had moved on to "Shut Up and Let Me Go" by the Ting Tings, or, as she calls it, "the stomping song". [Okay, NOT the best choice of lyrics for those of us who hope to instill manners in our children. However, I have held firm and not introduced Zoe to one of my current favorites: the expletive-happy Kate Nash.] Notice also that there is a "baby" having a nap under the blanket on the floor, a toy store threw up behind our leather chair and there is a distinct possibility that my daughter has a shot at starring in "Breakin' 12: Electric Poopaloo".)