What happens when my connection to you is severed

Dec 13, 2008 at 1:34 PM
Last night the internet went down RIGHT after the hotel desk closed up and went home. Couldn't work, couldn't blog.

So naturally I did what any girl would do, and went out for a wild night on the town wth my best party friend EVER, Brian.

My hormiga bites were better enough (I thought), and it was Friday night, and there was a beautiful full moon.

I went to Tamarindo, which is famous for being a party place, and is a surf town. It has hot and cold running hunks-o-man in every variety, except they are all fashion model thin. So are the women. Think twiggy with muscles. And I'm a pretty hefty piece of meat in comparison. My ass was certainly the biggest one in the place, even at my size 8-10.

It seriously didn't help my self worth any. But rather than sit in the corner by myself, especially when the music was not Salsa or Cumbia or Reggaeton, but good old fashioned CLUB music like back home, I said FUCKITALLTOHELLANDGONE and I started dancing, intending to dance up a storm anyway. All the pretty girls who wouldn't mind being photographed under a microscope in a bikini, well they can go do their thing, 'cause I'm SHORE doing mine.

I was at the monkey bar, which is up steps to the top of a big hill (ridiculously not handicapped friendly - it's like you're visiting the yogi at the top of the mountain to get there) and the view of Tamarindo was fantastic, a huge crescent shaped white sand beach in front of me. I was dancing while watching the waves break from over the balcony, way way below, and I looked up, and I saw a beautiful STUNNINGLY GORGEOUS corona around the full moon. It was perfect and strong and luminous.


I was totally in my own world. I disappear into a place of zen when I dance. All that exists in the world for me is the music, me and the inevitable motion. I don't think about anything else. Except that beautiful moon.

Still dancing, and totally getting into it. Kept looking up at that perfect moon.

This is why I don't need drugs, don't do them, don't want to. I can totally get to THAT PLACE without any help. Plus it's not fucking me up and it's real, intense, and way way higher quality to simply find your own happy mega universe place and go there and have fun.

I looked around and realized I was getting a LOT of attention. I guess some of those surfer boys don't mind a girl with a big butt. Besides, none of those surfer girls seemed able to dance as well as I'd'a thunk, since they are all so very, very, very, very fit. Maybe more yoga is in order. Or they need to loosen up. I dunno.

Anyway, I got hit on plenty, every time I took a break, by some really hot guys, which was seriously surprising considering they are mostly fashion model hunky and about ten years younger than me. No more feeling awkward about the fact that I weigh the same as them. And I've got 40 pounds and 10 years on most of the girls. Whatever.

The entire party of EVERYONE moved to the other club down the street with even better music.

I lost Brian somewhere along the way. God knows.

After a bit, a disarmingly sweet looking and acceptably handsome - but normal nonsurfer - guy with UNBELIEVABLY white teeth and dark skin was acceptable to dance with. He was the only one who didn't look stoned or high or simply stupid. So, we started dancing. I had a LOT of fun.

He's obviously a sweetie pie - although still a dog like most of y'all - and I felt bad that I planned to disappoint his expectations. My dancing may be uber sexy, but it's just dancing. I don't think running off with EVERY guy I find cute here would be very good for my long term health.

Eventually, I found Brian again, and shocked the boy I was dancing with by doing a total makeover into responsible grown up. He looked truly terrified to discover that the sure-thing-sexy-mamacita who he was dancing with turned around and PRESTO CHANGO, magically turned back into the normal, all business, responsible, designated driver version of me.

I went home alone of course. Except Brian, who got dropped off happy, boracho, and all danced out) and that was my night.

And this morning, I took a double dose of everything for my hormiga bites. They were back to being bad off.

Stupid girl. (But I had fun.)

3 comments

  1. Melissa B. Says:

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  2. Cat Says:

    Oh my god, sounds like SO MUCH FUN! I can't dance to save my life

  3. Shelley Says:

    I want to see some of this dancing lady!