The past two weeks have been a bit blurry… not any particular thing, just a lot of everything. The good stuff and the “i’ll take a rain check, thanks” stuff, swirled in a turgid* life-slurry. Marginal amounts of sleep, list-making during meetings, frantic stops at the grocery for necessities, napping on airplanes.
Late nights, laughing and drinking and emoting with good friends. Watching my mother eat like a human termite. Getting a ‘disconnection’ notice on my sewer and water for failure to pay (HUH? i’ve paid it monthly? What the fuck?) and not having time this week to call to get it sorted.
Plunging through a massive bureaucratic butt-plug and finally getting a start date for a new assignment. Eventually convincing my boss that the best thing for the organization is for me to go away… Taking my first cartload of ancient reports and files to the shredder bins. Shuffling my feet in a happy dance to the music in my head as i pushed the empty cart back to my office.
Having visitors for seven straight days. Four days with Mom – tense at first, but unexpectedly pleasant. Three days with a great friend who was in town – warmth, late nights and the traditional “groping of the breastages”….
Friday night – finally! My plans for the evening disintegrated – a calenderically-challenged DJ / dance buddy had gotten the date wrong for a performance event. That’d be for tomorrow night… oops.
Home. Alone. Quiet. Munching over my options…
Hopped in the jeep and dragged my mutt to the dog park for some butt sniffing (him), ball chasing (also him) and mindless drooling (both of us…). Gorgeous night. Painfully blue skies. Yips and squeals of the kids on the playground punctuating the start of summer. On the drive home, being splattered with dog spit as Mr. Pickles recovered in the breeze, i decided that a ‘down night’ was in order.
Settling in to catch up on work e-mail, i queued up the audio tracks**. Decided to try a different channel… something new. Found one with a rather stupid name “AM Radio Hits”. Thinking that i was susceptible to a slide back into the dark places i’ve been scouting lately, this seemed an upbeat, mindless soundtrack to have rolling in the background.
First song? “Get Up Offa That Thing“***, James Brown. As i wandered into the kitchen, shakin’ my ass as if my life depended on it, i decided that it would be perfectly ok to finish half a bottle of wine while eating cinnamon bagels for dinner. My toaster was toasting away, cinammony goodness wafting into my brain and the next song began: “I Think I Love You“, Partridge Family. ISHITYOUNOT. Partridge. Fucking. Family.
Within seconds i reverted to the socially retarded 10 year old girl with a drool-festooned crush on David Cassidy. i’m dancing in the kitchen. Show-choir style. Jazz hands, bitches! Checking my form in the reflection of the microwave oven. “I’m afraid that i’m not sure of, a love there is no cure for……” [screaming while striking a pose] “I THINK I LOVE YOU!”
From there? “Joy To The World“, Three Dog Night, “I Second That Emotion“, The Miracles and “Low Rider“, War. But then this happened. Within seconds, i was literally jumping on my furniture, sproinging merrily around my living room. “Bright Side of The Road“, Van Morrison.
Joy. Experienced with the person i’m going to spend the rest of my life with… She’s ok sometimes. She doesn’t dance nearly as well as she thinks she does, and her voice is a bit strained at the high end. But she’s a good fucking time…
My dog? Thinks i’m batshit…
image source: http://www.access2dance.com
* “turgid” is my favorite word in the english language. especially when paired with “loins”….
** Rhapsody. Streaming on-line digital audio for about $12/month. Anything i want. Whenever i want it… About a bazillion channels, with names like “Acoustic Dawn”, “Big Classic Rock” and “Alternative Hits”… i also make up mood/activity driven playlists. Like a big-ass iPod, wired throughout the Barbie Dream Condo. Sometimes it makes me so happy to have a soundtrack anywhere i am at home that i just want to pee my pants.
*** If you do not at least do a little head boppin’ when listening to this song? You are dead. Seriously fucking dead…. or seriously fucking white….
Trailer Park Refugee 
James brown is the ultimate cleaning music. Wipe, dust, mop, bootyshake. Repeat.
Those are good nights – even when they’re not the ones we think we want, they’re good and good for us. Get on witchya bad self.
Love listening to all the hits from my misspent youth. I probably would have been shaking my booty, too. Sounds like a good night, some sun and fun, and then a little UP downtime. Gotta love it.
P.S. Our dogs think we’re batshit most of the time, anyway.
if the girl in the photo didn’t have breasts I’d sweat it was Mick Jagger from his Dance with the Devil days
I meant swear not sweat
what a fun audio stream.. all the oldies but not quite good enough to become classics… love it… the partridge family,,,, holy christ!!!!
Is a bureaucratic butt plug filed in triplicate, or something? Inquiring minds want to know…
*** My head doesn’t bop but my toes start tappin’. If I could only dance. Believe me, you would rue the day if you saw my attempt at cutting-a-rug. It would take copious amounts of alchohol to bear such an egregious scene. Thanks goodness I’m hot otherwise I’d be a lonely wallflower at the bar ! (HEHE)
Be well dearest Daisyfae !
~S
imeantno – dog ate your comment? huh?
dave – james brown adds the bootyshake to life! only time i don’t like to listen? in the car, where i’m strapped down and attempting to drive…
amber – absolutely. i was married, with critters, for 25-ish years. never really lived alone until now. i really like it!
silverstar – this is the crap i listened to as a kid… and it triggers such a visceral, happy response. listening again today: “Young Americans”, David Bowie just had me bootyshakin’ again!
nursemyra – i believe i would do either of them. mick was tasty back in those days… good enough for the thin white duke? good enough for me!
paisley – well said! “not good enough to be classics…”, but so many good memories. with my gal-pals, we’d pretend to be The Partridge Family. i always got stuck playing bass as Danny Bonaduce. The prettiest girl got to be Susan Dey. My friend, Terri, had the hair for David. No one wanted to be Mrs. Partridge… or the creepy manager, Reuben. Last night? I got to be fucking DAVID! Woo hoo!
sledpress – yes, but first: time stamped, co-ordinated through the safety, security and facilities offices, assessed for environmental compliance, forced to take awareness training on “human trafficing” and then promptly lost somewhere along the way… so many butt plugs, so little time…
steve – i can teach anyone to dance. seriously. i’ve done it with many rhythm-challenged white boys. but since you’re hot? i’d probably make you pay for lessons… unfair advantage and all that… 😉
One question: Were you dancing naked? Cuz that is the only way to dance at home by yourself on the sofa.
The boss is away for a week, the community is almost deserted and I am alone in a house for the first time in about three months. Now I can play real music real loud, not the vanilla 50’s rock my younger brother insists on. CCR, Meatloaf, Suzi Q, AC/DC, The Stones, Tina Turner all at full volume – even some ELP! WOW! Pirates – – –
Nothing like getting to play your own music and rocking to it like you are alone – except when you ARE alone [BFG]
Okay then, when & where. Payment can be tendered in many forms, aside from U.S currency. Yes, there is hope that the Broadway lights WILL shine upon me ! (J/k)
Dance like nobody’s watching, hey? I need a little ‘a that!
Pandora streams music for free. And I’ve got each channel named for a Renal Failure character. Ninja Vicki’s got the Euro-dance, Tag Larkin is the heavy metal channel, and Bernie the half-cyborg cat is the rap channel because cats like to lay on top of sub-woofers and feel the bass.
I had something lined up, about how I love singing the Partridge family in the shower, and then RF’s comment made me laugh and I totally forgot whatever clever shit I had planned.
‘turgid’ is quite good isn’t it.
fragrant liar – nope. just a t-shirt and undies. that’s how i roll…
archie – rock out, brother!
steve – will
stalk youhunt you down and force you to dance! terms negotiable…dolce – sad part? i often dance like that when people are watching. there was an incident on a dance floor saturday night at a club that led to an exchange of digits. not my normal gig, that’s for sure…
renal failure – then i suppose “AM Radio Oldies” would be filed under “Sean and Lucia Wheatley”? (sigh)
rassles – he has a tendency to do that, doesn’t he?
alex – not many opportunities to slip that into conversation, but i’m always on the look out…
thats not sad…that fuckin’ rocking!
“Painfully blue skies”
Love that.
“I think I love you” and “Joy to the World” had me screaming and running from the post.
The song that was running though my mind was the Boz Scaggs tune,
Your words connect with me in a way that is somewhat bizarre.
Though I haven’t written them, I feel as if I could.
I know, bizarre.
Might have something to do with the Cuban cigar I’m currently smoking . . .
Great post, anyway.
~m