Celebrating the Sistahs...

I have been struggling with the thought of getting older the last couple of weeks. I know it sounds stupid, as I am only coming up on my 25th birthday (and I am bound to be made fun of after this post) but I just don't feel very young anymore. It is not only the fact that I feel like I have aged 10 years in 1. It could be that one of my students told me that while I was very short, my "face was too old to be a high school student"...or, it could be that on Friday night one of my friends told me that while all the other girls we were with were wrinkle-free, I, however, was not, and that it was never too early to consider Botox. He meant it in the nicest way possible. Either way, my latest obsession has been the secret to staying young...forever.

This all being said, I didn't think it was the best idea to agree to be Ashley's date to chaperon her school's Winter Formal, but I still did it knowing that I would at least get some good blogging material out of it. We managed to make it through most of the dance unnoticed and hung to the side with the rest of the teachers/old people. I still felt pretty old at first when the "oldies" of the night were songs like, "Macarena" and "Ice Ice Baby," but by the end of the night I was feeling OK again, and was glad that I went. As fun as my youth and high school days were, I don't think I would ever want to go back. First, because all the kids looked pretty awkward on the dance floor (nothing like Ash and I would have looked like now) and second, I think that we are only getting better and more beautiful with age and experience. At least that is what I'm telling myself now, so don't ruin it for me.

After the dance was over, and being pretty anxious to go dancing since we had been holding ourselves back for the last 3 hours, we decided to meet up with some of our friends in Phoenix at a Jazz club called the Rhythm Room. It was the first time we had gone, and we didn't know what to expect, so we were a little surprised to find out 2 minutes after walking through the door that it was "Dyke Night" at the club (I don't believe in using that word, it's what they actually called it). The 5 woman band playing called themselves "Sistah Blue" and they were true soul sisters. The vibe of the club was awesome, the music was great and it had everyone on the dance floor. We immediately joined in with the crowd, which was a bit older than we were expecting. I tried more than once to join the women on the floor, but they weren't having it. I think they sensed I was not of their sexual orientation (or wasn't their type) because every time I got close trying to mimic some of their moves, they quickly moved away in the other direction. I was feeling pretty rejected until the bump and grind of a small older woman making it down my backside caused me to almost halt mid-dance move - and now has me contemplating if I should be scheduling an appointment to see my Bishop. "Check out this young thing!" I heard her yell from behind me. I decided to just go with it since if I just walked away, it would probably look/seem rude. I am really only comfortable dancing with girls anyway, so would this really be that different? It was. It become apparent a couple seconds into the song that this was not her first time at the Rhythm Room. She threw in a couple "Whoo Hoo's!" and "You go girl's!" as she pulled out her sweetest dance moves and made her way around my stiff/anxious/swaying body. At times I thought I heard a hip pop, but quickly learned that it was the rhythmic and incessant snapping of her fingers and clicking of her cowboy boots that had me confused. With no help from the group I was with (including Ashley), this violation continued throughout most of the song, until I was able to "spin move" my way out of the crowd and back to my friends. They claim I was "asking for it" which is why they only laughed hysterically at my first girl-on-girl dancing experience instead of saving me from it. I probably was, but would you tell your friend that followed a kitten into a dark alley that came back mugged and with only one shoe that they were "asking for it"? I doubt it. Still, despite the distraction, it turned out being a great, diverse, cultured and eye-opening experience for all of us. Needless to say, today I have a bit of a spring in my step. Nothing like getting harassed by an older lesbian to make you feel young again.