Tiny Dancer

The past weekend began with my attendence of a wedding reception where my boyfriend was the best man. This meant that I sat with his family while he sat at the head table with the bride and groom and this meant I had to try really hard to drink slowly and responsibly.

Here’s why: Alcohol + Music = Me demonstrating the running man to Ice Ice Baby

Yo, stop...

collaborate and listen

Three drinks is usually the tipping point.

Three-Drink Me loves to dance and not only does Three-Drink Me love to dance, Three-Drink Me thinks she’s an AMAZING dancer (and singer for that matter), so Three-Drink Me feels the need to mock other dancers for their apparant lack of skill.

So…

three vodka tonics later I attempted some sort of line dance, a mocking dry hump, one slow dance, a Mulgrew’s foot-long chili dog, and a shot of something blue. My body still hates me for the chili dog. 

However, I have to give a special shout-out to the DJ who played terrible, terrible music to the break of 10:00 pm.  Thanks, Buddy, I owe you one.

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About Restless Cube Dweller

Most of my adult life has been defined finding homes in unconventional places, and learning to interact positively with others. I've lived in the middle of nowhere, in small cities, in large cities, in the suburbs, and now in Dubuque, Iowa. This blog represents my musings about growing up, moving on, finding love, and eating well in the suburbs and beyond.
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