Stayin' Alive

It's Friday night 30 October and all I can think about is getting dressed up and going out with the ghouls, undead, and slutty nurses to go dancing.  That was my thing back in the day.  I was talking to my nephew's fiancé as she was giving me a massage recently and we were talking about the good old days when I was younger. I used to go dancing every weekend.  I love to dance.  Always have.  I think it comes from my genes, both sets of grandparents love to dance and just thinking about dancing puts a smile on my face...look at me...see??  I did dance  recently at my cousins' wedding.  That was so much fun.  I could've danced longer if of course my body didn't seize.  I ended up doing that dance from Airplane where the man gets stabbed and Julie Haggerty doesn't realize, and she points to her back unaware that the man is in pain.  Yep, that was me.  In retrospect, swinging my dance partner around the dance floor to recreate the dance scene with Robert Hayes (still makes heart go pitter patter) in retrospect it may not have been the best for my back, but I was out to impress...I mean a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do!  People kept complimenting me on my performance of the robot but it was purely un-intentional.   It really did kind of peeve me because I used to be a rather decent dancer, not to toot my own horn.   Well, now I know.  Prior to any limbo contests or a night of dancing, I need to limber up,  you know, do a yoga class and stretch before getting on the dance floor.  I can just picture me as Fat Amy in full leotard and leg warmers, bubble gum pink from head to toe at the barre in a club stretching in front of some hot guys.   I just might do it!  Anyone dare me?