dorky glee

Last night we had a surprise party for Laura’s last shift as a houseparent. I was dorkily gleeful about the actual act of surprising her and kept trying to come up with a plan. Should we hide behind the furniture, upstairs, around the corner? Nobody cared. I was forced to forge fearlessly forwards unimpeded by the oppressive apathy that weighed down others, a veritable pioneer in the field of flabbergastment and bushwhackery. I had everyone hide in the darkened dining room, where I proceeded to jump up and down with the aforementioned dorky glee. She was surprised.

Other highlights of the night included dancing to hip-hop wonders from the 80’s and early 90’s, including such classics as “Jump Around” and “Baby got Back.” I was outside smoking a cigarette when I actually uttered the phrase “Ohmigod they’re playing ‘Push It,’ I gotta go dance,” throwing down my cigarette and racing upstairs with reckless abandon. “Can’t you hear the music’s pushin’ hard like I wish you would? Now push it.” I remember roller-skating to the song when I was ten. How could I restrain myself?

By the end of the night everyone ended up downstairs, where I rapidly became hypnotized by Dance Dance Revolution. I am not sure how I managed to avoid this game for so long, but I am now completely addicted. Whenever anyone else was playing, I just stared longingly at the TV, a la a kid in a candystore, waiting anxiously for my chance to dazzle everyone with my mad skills. Sharing and taking turns sucks. Hmm. Would it be crazy for me to buy a Playstation just for Dance Dance Revolution?