taken on my 32nd birthday at the infamous star bar. me and my beautiful friend amy, loopy and drenched in sweat. we took a break around 3am to jump in the booth for a strip (the ultimate birthday souvenir, I believe). we often found ourselves there on tuesday nights. we could not resist the obscure selection of seventies funk, the chance to work things out with the small eclectic crowd that gathered each week. the indefatigable DJ romeo cologne (and his kooky wigslashtoupee) knew when to break up the funk with a block of vintage michael jackson. and the people said yes. the people went crazy.
I don't go like I used to but I wish that I did. those tuesday nights were the best thing for me. better than therapy, better than anything. always wore my favorite (but most excellently abused) shelltoes and a tee-shirt I knew I could stink up. shoved deep into my pockets were three things: my drivers license, a tube of lip gloss and ten bucks. had to be able to move unfettered (yes, free of all fetters), absolutely had to. and my girl amy was prepared to go until dawn (the breakabreaka dawn), if need be.
I met amy back in 2001 when I returned to work for moving in the spirit. I'd taken the year off after ava was born and couldn't wait to dig in and start teaching and dancing with the company again. amy was working for them as well as dancing for the company and I loved her the moment we met. it was instant, natural, a connection I'd not felt in years. my transition back into a life that once had come so easily can only be described as rough and I spent a good deal of time feeling raw and out of sorts, ready to give up. amy sort of saved me from that. she did what great friends do. she listened. and listened and listened. she made classes and rehearsals joyous things. she put my brand-new-mama mind at ease by volunteering to watch ava while I taught the modern technique class for the apprentice corporation. she was good at reminding me to take care of myself. and most integral to my healing process: our occasional tuesday night trips to star bar.
amy is still around, doing amazing things with the mentoring program over at moving in the spirit. we still hang out when we can. she leaves words for me here every once in a while, which I love. we have ongoing plans to get back to star bar and I know it'll happen. as tricky as it is to schedule these days, I still feel the pull. I know we'll make our way back. though I'm prepared to face a different crowd now. the last time we were there, tall, prissy girls took up all the space on the dance floor, smacked me right and left with fancy banana-shaped purses. completely oblivious. I have no patience for these girls, these girls who are afraid to sweat, afraid to get their shoes dirty. I want to tell them to please get off the dance floor. I maybe want to yank them by their hair but I don't, I won't. anyway, the music is still good, the urge is still there, tuesday nights still call. amy, I know you hear it too. much love to you, my friend.
also rocking the photobooth friday:
sewn with gold threads
cult of degan
aaaaand-- much to my delight, I recently discovered a star bar photobooth set on flickr. definitely worth a lookie-loo, even if you've never been. especially if you've never been. something else you should absolutely positively not miss: this photobooth prank (thank you, slimwhitman). not a big fan of leno or anything, but people-- please watch. it's funny. who doesn't like funny?