Im thrilled to have Deb as a guest poster up in herre. She’s one of the first bloggers I corresponded with & a woman whom I share a lot of traits in common.
I was fortunate enough to meet her in person at BlogHer & she’s just as badass inspirational in person as on her blog. The post below was by my request in response to an email exchange we had.
SOUL-FED SATURDAY NIGHT.
Through the wonder that is the social network world, PZ and I became MS, FB, and Twitter friends. I play his tracks when I’m at the gym, and dance my way through my rest periods to his beats. (side note: I am the cutest and
goofiest bench dancer there. But others far surpass me on the shake-the-elliptical-booty).
At one point I had told him: do another show, and I’ll be there. Damn if he didn’t go and book another show-and I chose to stay true to my word.
A promise to “go out dancing once a month” to another friend had rather sealed the deal for me. Two promises complete with one action.
So Saturday night as the clock approached midnight – and some vague part of my body reminded me that it was bedtime- we sat at a table at a less-than-posh nightclub in downtown Berkeley.
Me drinking my Guinness and people watching; Maria taking full advantage of her web-enabled phone to tweet the experience.
I had been told the show would begin at 11 – but not completely surprised when the first act didn’t hit the stage until midnight. By that time, the bump-bump of the dj’s bass and the background conversation noise were starting to numb my ears.
I had trouble understand the words from the act but wasn’t really enjoying them either. There were lines that were OK. But overall the performance seemed subpar.
Things brightened considerably when the headliner hit the lights. PZ engaged the crowd and performed from his heart. Later was definitely better than never.
@debroby currently waving her hands like she just don’t care or dropping it like it’s hot. Maybe both at the same time. 😉
In that confluence of sound, beer, and music, time melted away.
It didn’t matter to me where I was, what the music was, or that I was probably 30 years over the average age in the
I was me being a basic me for a while. Everything else dissipated into melody and rhythm.
I was happy. My soul was fed.
What would you do to feed your soul if you held no restrictions on your life? Me? I know I’ll dance more.