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Tuesday, November 14, 2006Dancing Queen
There are many things that are driving me bonkers about living with my parents and/or the boyfriend. I could list them, but I'm sure you would actually like to get through reading this post before nightfall... The one thing that I've chosen to discuss today is my love for dance.
I am a dancing queen, a dancing machine, a dancing feign. I love to dance. When I lived by myself - or even with a roommate, who am I kidding? - I would dance like it was nobody's business. Turn up the volume and watch me wiggle. Often, I would pick up a t.v. remote and use it as my microphone. Oh yes, that's me. I would dance in my bedroom, in the living room, in the kitchen, on the tables, the bed, the chairs - ANYWHERE.
Not being able to dance, like the queen that I am, is making me sad. I've resorted to dancing in my car; while 'parked' in traffic. ...Which is okay, except that I'm surrounded by windows and people give me funny looks. I have no microphone and I can't really use my legs - it's more of an upper-body dance.
I've seen other women dance in their cars and they look totally ridiculous. I know I must, too. But, oh, just to dance...