runnin down that hill, goin' 90 miles an hour

i made my semi-triumphant return to my reviled alma mater last night. i was there to open for a band that i really like (the letdowns), while ideally avoiding either falling flat on my ass or making a complete fool of myself.

well, no one is dead, and there are no bruises on my butt, and i realized that there are people in this world who actually know my songs well enough to sing along.

weird!

but it went well, despite a handful of dropped chords and botched lyrics. not too many, enough for me to notice, but not enough for me to fail to notice that i have, in fact, come a long way as a performer since ben (the singer for the letdowns) first saw me play in december. so, all in all, i was pleased.

but, satiating my inner show off aside, the true highlight of the evening was the dancing. oh, the dancing! both at the show (nothing says loving like the wreck of the old 97) and after at pyramid...i'm a dancing girl. i find it a bit strange to note how my dancing has changed since i started belly dancing. i also find it a bit strange to note how, even at a gay club, i seem to be the prime target for the heat-seeking missile known as the "horrid straight player." ergh. i cringe to analyze what it is about me that makes them think i'm there--a straight girl at a GAY CLUB--for anything but dancing, or why i'd want them to fondle me in any way.

i had one rub my knees. while i was dancing. fortunately for me, i was there with the two best boyfriends in the world, and they defended my honor beautifully.

i have the best boyfriends-who-would-really-rather-be-dating-each-other in the world.

mwah!