Dance Parties

November 29, 2012

As you all know I have a tendency of taking situations I find myself in, blowing them way out of proportion, and writing a blog post about it. Woman of habit.

I won't give all of the details of my evening as to spare the feelings and opinions of some people out there, but let me just say... if you have a 9 a.m. class in the morning, it is best not to dance around your apartment for three hours the night before.

My roommate and I were having a lovely evening just hanging around and enjoying the atmosphere that finals were almost here which means soon after we would have an entire month of freedom without goofy blackboard assignments or thoughts and guilt of skipping class.

Naturally we watched Glee and passionately sang and danced along like the aspiring super stars that we are. But to our surprise an extremely passionate Glee episode can apparently turn into three hours of rap music and dancing pretty quickly. We Wopped, we Wobbled, we were those bad chicks who were hood. We were excited, we were having a good time, we were getting our monthly workout in all while annoying our annoying neighbors. It was perfect.

Unfortunately when you think you have become the expert Wopper and the expert Wobbler you seem to become the expert at other things... such as the worm.

Now I would like to say that I can do the worm, no big deal!!! But my 14-year-old self claims that title and my 19-year-old self decides to rebel against me. Sore legs, pulled arms, bruised stomach, a carpet burned chin, and three tries later a broken pride.

We will see how tomorrow morning pans out, but I have a feeling that a broken pride will be the least of my worries.

Yay Thirsty Thursday dance parties... never, again.

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