1999

Dance until I reinjure my knee and then keep on dancing.  Check.

Sing Ice, Ice Baby by heart into a microphone, in front of a crowd, with a live band, but screw up the second verse. Check.

Spend the night at the party because I couldn’t bear to leave.  Check.

Madly enjoy the time spent with old friends and crazy love meeting new ones. Check.

Act like I’m bringing in a new millennium. Check. Check. Check.

So, yeah, there was this party…

A few posts ago, I wrote: I’ve lost my mojo along the way.  My charm. My voodoo. My confidence. Shortly thereafter, I think I sort-of recanted a bit.  Sort-of. A bit. I just want to absolutely and without a shadow of a doubt say that those words are a load of total bull shit.

Bring out the mojo, the voodoo, the confidence. Check and check again.

(The charm I may have been a little short on.  While conversing, I sometimes had a hard time tuning into my usual exuberance and wit and even tended to blurt out odd tidbits of the “I carried a watermelon” variety.)

So, yeah, there was this party…

I will admit it. I have always had and still have a bit of a wild soul.  I will, when out and about or visiting or entertaining, attempt to push my friends to stay up later, dance longer, party more.  While tempered for the most part, there is still that fire inside.  There is still that desire to chew up the world and spit it out and then laugh, and then shake my hips a little, and then laugh, and then sing at the top of my lungs, and then move my whole body to the rhythm of the once whole world still beating, and then laugh some more. Once, while listening to Radiohead, I said that I loved the sound so much that I wanted to eat off my own arm.  The recipient of my (outlandish, really?) comment didn’t get it. In fact, when asked if they felt the same way, they seemed to get a little weirded out, answered a flat but immediate “no,” and then walked away.

But, maybe you get it.  Don’t you?

Maybe you know that feeling when something is so ripe and raw and beautiful that you just can’t sit in your body anymore.  You feel like you have to push beyond your body.  You almost have to scream.  Or, maybe– I’ll take it down a notch– you don’t want out of your body.  Maybe you are so in your body that you feel like you have no mind.  That you forget all of the mental and emotional dirt and grease and over-6,000 miles-oil that needs to be changed and you just exist.  You more than exist.  You exist as a fireball.

I haven’t felt that way in a long time, but I’m feeling it more and more and more. And, man, does it feel good.

So, yeah, there was this party…

And, at the party was a live band.  And the band consisted of three handsome men—the butcher (the smooth MCing spoken word fanatic), the baker (the quick-witted eclectic soul on the guitar and drum kit), and the candlestick maker (the soulsy, bluesy harmonica and hand drum player).

The sound escaping the mouths, hands, feet of this trio spoke to me, to my body, to my soul and I could not help but to keep swaying and popping and being on the dance floor.  While all of the songs were a complete body trip for me, it didn’t hurt that they sang an original tune with the words “You’re a big girl and I’m a skinny guy…” Hello?  Me.

And, you know that ugly track, those rotten marbles I wrote about a few posts ago, they were totally non-existent, not even dead, never been born. How terribly, terribly refreshing and forward-moving and needed and fun. I was even complimented for my vivaciousness and enthusiasm and mad dancing skill (ha!) and was told several times how relaxed I seemed. Voted the “MVD” (most valuable dancer) by a friend, I was on top of the world!

So, yeah that friggin’ mojo.  It’s been inside me all along and now I have released it once again like a Bride-of-Frankenstein into the world! Wha-ha-ha.

I will end with a line from a song by the thrift shop promoting Macklemore:

And we danced, and we cried, and we laughed and had a really, really, really good time.

Thank goodness for music and movement and the fact that I can hold a beat with my hips.

Advertisements

3 Comments

  1. Heather said,

    June 10, 2013 at 4:32 pm

    Amazing!

  2. Andrea said,

    June 10, 2013 at 7:18 pm

    Awesome:) sounds like I should’ve been there!

  3. Anna said,

    June 10, 2013 at 9:24 pm

    I love it Emily!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: