dancing in the dark

I just got back from a show at the Holocene- Rebecca’s friend from Las Vegas is in a band called Phosphorescent (I think that is what they are called.) It was unusually quiet there tonight. Obviously many Portland partiers were out of town for uh, out of town parties. Holidays. You know. They did this weird thing where they filled the whole space with small tables- two chairs apiece. It was very loungey, which was somewhat inappropriate for the psychedelic jams, but whatever. Halfway through the set, this tall lanky dude in loose red pants and a blue tank top started dancing with his limbs all a-flailing. Mind you, he was the only dude STANDING, let alone dancing. Rebecca and I realized that that is just the Holocene way. No matter what band is playing, be they electronic, metal or folky, there is always one lone hippie feeling the vibes. Sometimes it is a lady- braless and barefoot. Sometimes it is a man- tan and smiling.
Rebecca and I did some drinking- whisky for her, gin for me. The show ended and we were waiting around for her friend to finish loading up his stuff. At this point the place was almost empty. There were about eight people there total, all connected to the band in some way. We were bored and sort of tipsy, so we hit the dance-floor, impressing each other with our awesome moves. Then we were joined by the hippie. And then by his two hippie friends. There was much stretching and reaching coming from that end of the dance floor. We were more about the shimmies and kicks. But still… My question is: Is this how it starts? Is this how Holocene dancers are bred? Are Rebecca and I one step away from broomstick skirts and spagetti-strap tanks, communing with the music through the movement of our bodies? Oh god.
Lately I’ve been feeling like I need a second, secret blog to let all of my messy bits out. I feel like I’ve become too self-conscious in Perfect Heart because I know so many of my readers. Like, I don’t talk about my crushes because not only do they read Perfect, but so do their friends. And I don’t mention sex or talk shit like I used to because I feel the compulsion to be likable, which translates to boring sometimes. I’m burying this confession at the bottom of a silly entry on Thanksgiving Eve, knowing that fewer people than normal will read it. The thing is, Perfect Heart (the concept which includes but is not limited to this blog) is about transparency and against self-censureship. I need to stop acting composed and just let my sloppy, trouble-prone, boy crazy self out, and in the process liven up this place. Secret blog? Fuck that noise. What do I have to be ashamed of? In that spirit, here are two confessions:
1. I have snuggle relationship with a dude who is in love with another lady, which would be fine with me if he didn’t talk about her so much. When we are snuggling. I mean, honestly. I don’t want to be this man’s girlfriend or have his babies or anything, but while I am in his bed I would prefer not to hear about his long-distance pining. Love the one your with, man. Right?
2. Remember when I blogged about being drunk the other night with my old roommates? And I bought a nightgown? Right. Well, what I didn’t mention was that I unerotically kissed this man who drives a motorcycle and who has had the hots for me since I moved back to Portland. Why was it unerotic? Because the girls pressured me into doing it, and it was at the bar, and the man was extremely uncomfortable, and sober, though willing. And I was not into him. So why did I do it? I don’t know! Because kissing is nice and the holidays are upon us, and I literally have no prospects. Every boy I might like is either in love with someone else, or just recovering from being in love with someone else. Steve and I talked earlier, and he was like, “why are you so grouchy about this? Aren’t you happy without a man?” And he’s totally right. I am so happy with my life right now. I love the amount of time I spend with Steve and Reba, and I love the groove I’m in with my other friends- once a week or so with Nicole, and Liz and Justin are both getting back in the mix. So why and I even sweating it? Well, for one, as mentioned earlier, I am boy crazy. Always have been. For two, it is the holiday time, which makes me crave a man’s touch. And three, I am stuck in some anti-feminist vacuum that has permanently linked my sense of self-worth to the attentions of men-folk. This is getting much better as the years go on, but it is still a presence. And also, kissing is fun! So is snuggling! So is s-e-x!
So there you have it. My completely un-Perfect Heart, my drunken blogging that I will either delete in the morning or bury even deeper under inane Top 5’s and TV talk. I gotta find a better balance though. Perfect Heart needs to reflect my whole self, not just my cheery put-together self. I’ll work it out. I have to go to sleep now. I must cook a feast tomorrow. Adieu.