Hip to the dance scene beat.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Among my very favorite things in the whole wide world ...dance scenes. I looove dance scenes. If High School Musical would have been around when I was a kid, I would have been the freak that danced the entire movie by myself every day on the playground at recess. In the summer of '04, before I met Christopher, I was dating a fella named Kris. Lets chat about Kris for a second. Any longer than a second and Christopher might kill me (hes not a fan). So here we go. My friend Jenny had met him on myspace, and invited him to my conveniently located downtown Portland apartment for drinks. Before he came over, Jenny and I had gone down to 23rd avenue to listen to loud music and eat hot dogs. We used to drive down busy streets with the top off of my car, listening to whatever ridiculous song we favored at the time. Jock Jams, Britney, The Cars, whatever seemed fitting. We'd dress up in cute vintage outfits (sunglasses, scarves, the works) and sing as loud as we could for everyone to hear. It didn't take long to wear ourselves out. A few minutes after we got back to my place, Kris showed up on his motorcycle. That's right, he was a coo-oo-oo-ool rider. Tall and handsome. Served in the Army. Tattoo sleeves. Mmm mmm good. I guess he had come by previously while we were losing our voices in the Pearl, and when he missed us, decided to come back later and try again. Him and Jenny didn't get along at all, which made for great entertainment. Jenny is loud, and about as out-there as they come. Which isn't a bad thing, that's just who she is, and for that we love her. We drank our usual PBR 40's, and I smoked cigarettes one after another. The same way I did every night. As it got darker, more people showed up at my apartment, and the more I drank the less I remember. I know by the end of the night, it was just me and Kris left outside by ourselves on my infamous porch of doom. I remember dropping my 40 over the edge, and him diving after it for me. Good man right there. We sat on the stairs and talked for the rest of the night. Who knows where everyone else had disappeared to. ...I bet you're dying to know what happened next, but a lady never tells. A few days later I was spending more time with Kris, and he asked me if I had seen Napoleon Dynamite yet. Knowing my love of dance scenes, he was shocked when I said no. He told me he wouldn't spoil it for me, but that I had to go see it immediately. Kris and I spent a lot of time together over the next couple of weeks, and then gradually our relationship spoiled (that was more than a second wasn't it? Sorry babe). What a shame. On the way back from a weekend beach getaway, Jenny and I stopped to see Napoleon Dynamite at a discount theater somewhere in Tualatin I think. From what Kris had said, I was about to see the best dance scene of my life. I didn't know what part of the movie it was at, so even though I was hungover as hell, I spent the entire time on the edge of my seat. And then finally, there it was. The best single person dance scene that I will probably ever see as long as I live. After Christopher and I had gotten together, I got a phone call from Kris, saying he had been in a motorcycle accident and needed me to come over. As much as I wanted to, I declined. The last time I saw him was on New Years Day 2005. Me and a group of friends, Christopher included, were eating a greasy brunch at My Fathers Place, which isn't actually a place owned by my father, its just the name of a dirty diner in Southeast. I wonder if Kris has seen High School Musical. I bet anyone who knows me thinks of me when they watch it. Even though our TV is almost always programmed to the Disney Channel, I've somehow managed to miss both of the High School Musical movies every time they're on. I'm not so secretly dying to see them. Maybe tonight we'll watch Electric Boogalo.
3 comments:
Your trip through memory lane brought back all kinds of my own fond memories. As small as they might seem in the ol' time track, sometimes they take on dinosaur proportions in hindsight, especially where things like screaming in the wind, pretending it's not for attention become priceless artifacts of our youth. And thus more and more valuable.
I'll have to tell you about my Last Great Fling, with a super hot infamous standup bass player. But maybe not. My husband doesn't ever want to hear about it again.
xox
Diana
That's some story. But you didn't tell us how come you split ... bummer!
Neever know how things will work out/
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