Writing this on mobile, forgive me if it goes astray… Gotta start writing this way if I want to write more often. Which I do.
“Do you want to go to a Hardcore Party nearby?” As the cliche goes, that’s the last question I expected of my Sweetie last night. Yet, it was just what the introvert needed.
My Casual Friday clothes were sufficient– Pride shirt, skirt, black knee high socks. Had to dig out my Hello Kitty shoes that have seen better days.
Dinner out. Sushi because Darling, who doesn’t like that cuisine, is with his brother. So it’s a treat to compensate for his absence. (Those triad kisses are so energizing. Love wins, indeed. These two are nothing short of fantastic.)
Mom and Pop sushi restaurants are wonderful to dine in. It was a Pandemic discovery I’m glad survived. Caught a glimpse of the Gymnastics Olympic trials. Mad respect to those women.
How odd to head South on The 5 to go out. Nice area in the good ol’ OC. Not the Orange Curtain of my youth. (Those folks now live in mansions they carved in the hills.) At least the drive is nice, thanks to the carpool lanes.
Some things never change– Friday night, time to dance. In this tiny skate shop filled with people, music is the focus, unlike the establishments down the street who blast music to drink to. (Carry on without me, and we’ll all be happy.) It’s a good mix of the folks whose souls have been fed by this music for over a decade, and the Young Adults of America. And me.
I never did things like attend underground parties when I was young. It’s ok. I’m here now, and Sweetie’s doing something good for his soul. Plus there’s Pokemon Go to play when I go outside for fresh air.
Ah, the Young Americans. Certain looks never go out of style. Happy to be out and see friends again. I could sense recent high school graduates, out for the first time as legal adults who didn’t have a curfew. They were having fun in a diverse crowd.
All the usual experimenting. It’s bring your own, as these events tend to be. I was happy to smoke from my THC pen and let the kids have the cigs, booze, and balloons. Couldn’t help but crack up when I’d hear a balloon pop. That stuff’s not good for the brain, and I don’t like the way it feels. Again, carry on without me. Next time I gotta bring a backpack and things to keep hydrated.
This is not the normal music I listen to, but it’s a chance to see Sweetie happy and in
So yes, the dancing! I don’t dance– I move just how I feel. Limited space means small movements I put my whole body into while planted in one spot for as long as I can before I get too hot. At least the dance classes in college still come in handy. So does all that dancing I did against my downstairs hallway walls in my former lifetime. (Walls are good back support for this 40-something. I need dancing shoes and have to remember to keep my eyes open when I move.
I do dance like nobody’s watching. I don’t move my body all that much, other than Tuesday’s Pokemon Go dates, so this is great for me. I sweat tons, both from the cramped space and the dancing. It feels like stress is also oozing out my pores. Losing myself in the beats and moving my body accordingly is second nature to me. It’s just hard to find the space to do so for too long.
I may grab a top to wear just for these occasions to keep cooler. I’ve been more inclined to dress more “girly” as of late. Even have earrings!
The drive home was easy–ever so thankful for carpool lanes! Drafting this in my head, as I’d been taking mental notes all night. I wanted to articulate this experience. These outings are good for me, and I want to keep reminding myself why. After all, there’s a flyer for another one soon.