Well, I have been a bit under the weather lately and not in a very blogging mood. I have wanted to recap my ‘girls’ night out for sometime. It was a couple of week ago and I had the best freaking time.
It all started out when my friend, whom I’ve been a friend with for about 16 years now, stated, “it’s time, we must go out and dance our asses off”. Who am I to argue? In case I haven’t mentioned this before I love, love to dance. The sweaty, shake your ass, for hours kind of dancing. It’s cathartic. Some people like to meditate. I dance.
So we plan, now here in the Bay Area we all call San Francisco ‘The City’. I guess when you live so close to the city by the bay it deserves such a title. Do people do this in all states?
I digress, so we head to a bar called ‘Bimbo’s’ (yes, how apropos) and see a live band named Tainted Love. They are a local band that plays all 80's music. What can I say? I’m not necessarily proud of it, but I am a product of the 80’s. Listening to this music takes me back to days where all I had to worry about was well, nothing really and I fucking miss it. My BFF and me were in the thick of it, dancing, singing, and sweating up a storm and in heaven. Oh yes, I can’t forget the drinking. Here’s one thing that’s changed since my beloved 80’s (or 90's) I can’t drink like I used to. WTF? My tolerance is much lower now and the several (forgive me I lost count) Morgan and diet cokes just about killed me. Sweet Christ, I lost a few days off my life. I get caught up and forget to pace myself. Luckily, no damage was done and if it was I don't remember so, it doesn’t count.
After Bimbo’s we walked or should I say stumbled to another bar and continued dancing, dancing, dancing. Life was good that night people. It was getting really late by now and we had made a few friends, which was fun cause the more the merrier in my book. When you aren’t looking for attention, it seems to cling to you like the stink of cigarettes the morning after. Funny that.
Now the next morning came too fast and I suffered, oh did I suffer. Touch of the flu, I like to call it. That’s the code word in my family for ‘I drank myself stupid last night’. Good times.
The moral of this story is I need to get my ass out dancing more often. Simple.
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4 comments:
*grin* Why thank you, Kent. Maybe I'll have to post a picture... :)
Well darn, MM that was the picture I was thinking of posting. I guess I'll have to come up with something else...
Sounds like a fine night, Anna!
I live JUST outside London, in the countryside to the north, and we talk about "going into town"... I guess its the same the world over.
Presumably your... flu is better after two weeks!
First off, any girl who uses a Ramones song to title her blogposts is just flat-out cool.
Secondly, there IS NO BETTER MUSIC OUT THERE to dance to than 80s music. These children who don't remember the wonderfulness that was the 80s, how I pity them.
;)
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