There are some dreams that I'm able to wish for much in advance of realizing them, and then there are others I didn't know I had until I stumble into them. One of those dreams found me on Saturday night. My friend, who is nearly 30 years old, decided to celebrate the last few days of her twenties with some dancing at an event called Bootie LA. Apparently this event happens monthly, and has been for some time, but even after living here for nine years I'd never heard of it. Somewhere in the deep, subconscious corners of my mind I think I'd always wanted to attend something called Bootie LA. It would be exaggerating only slightly to say that when I got her email about the event, my heart skipped a beat.
The problem, though, is that I am very obviously not in my twenties, and so "clubbing" is almost a cross-cultural experience for me. Clubs get going around 10pm at the earliest, by which time I have been known to be in my pajamas, glasses on, reading a book in my bed on a Saturday night. By 1am - when most clubbers are hitting their groove - I am awake only if I need to pee. And I dread that weird I feel hung over but not from alcohol feeling I get when I don't get enough sleep. It sometimes takes me a full week to recover from an altered sleeping schedule. (I wish I could say I'm kidding you. I'm not.)
Thankfully music and dressing up does excite me, and at Bootie LA I was able to drum up enough adrenaline to dance for a while. But soon I felt more like a teacher chaperone at a middle school dance: that music was so loud and those kids need to dance a little further apart and why does everyone keep pushing me on their way to the dance floor give me some space and be respectful of your elders!
My friend kept us all going for quite a while, and just when chaperone mode was starting to take over, they played a mash-up of Taylor Swift that had me singing out loud, then some Michael Jackson, so I was saved for another round of dancing. At home that night, I mean morning, my ears were ringing and I had that gross sweaty feeling as I got into bed and discovered the next morning that I forgot to take my contacts out. There was an email from my friend thanking us all for celebrating with her, and I thought about writing a note of warning in response. Then I decided some things - like unwished for dreams, like Bootie LA, and like aging - are better left discovered by accident.
*title inspired by a text of well-wishing (or warning?) sent by my sister before Bootie LA.