Mysterious Groove

i'm at a new year's party

feeling very out of place

in my rhinestones and cashmere and combat boots and lace

you're leaning on the doorframe

staring into space

and i admit i wanna kiss that interesting scar upon your face

it looks like your cleft lip was sewn up long ago

and i wonder how it tastes now that you're 23 years old

you ask me to the bathroom to do a line of blow

and though i'd love to be alone with you politely i say no

you're telling me

you're from burlington

and i'm half listening

but secretly i'm watching your mouth move

you might do a law degree

but you'll have to wait and see

and i don't care i'm watching your mouth move

with its mysterious groove

these people worship che

they put his poster on the wall

they think they're anarchists

but still they bought that poster at the mall

they're drinking pbr

while we share a can of elderberry wine

and sit on milk crates that dig little

cross-hatched lines across our thighs

everyone is smoking

and the air is turning blue

and you're coughing and you're laughing

as i'm fetishizing you

you ask about my hairdo

as your boyfriend leaves the room

and as you softly touch my arm

i have the most enchanting view

you're telling me

you're a gemini

and i nod and smile

but secretly i'm watching your mouth move

you lean in close

and propose a toast

and i'm happy cuz i'm watching your mouth move

with its mystrious groove

i don't think i'll see

or hear from you again

cuz i didn't catch your name and i'm not sure where you live

but new year's eve is like that

brief liaisons and one night stands

so i'm really not upset that this is where our story ends...

Here's another song that I will never, ever perform again under any circumstances, that I wish I could un-write and un-sing, and makes me want to chew my own leg off. Argh.

It is really a song about the night before my Worst Hangover Ever. The lyrics are just an account of one of several parties I attended, one New Year's Eve. It's a highly mythologized account, and tiny details either invented or blown way out of proportion. This all happened yeeeeeeeeears ago, and reading the lyrics (for I cannot bear to listen to it) make me profoundly glad that I no longer drink. I am also profoundly glad that I am no longer 23. Blech.

Here's the less glamorous version of that night: it was the warmest Dec. 31st I ever remember, ever. We were just wandering around without coats on in the dead of night. It was either actually unseasonably warm or we were just too drunk to feel the cold. Either way, no coats. I was wearing a bright pink sequined party dress with a crinoline (hawt), a cream-coloured cashmere cardigan, combat boots and a pearl necklace. I looked FABULOUS. I only have vague memories of the actual partying we did that night. I'm sure some of the imagery from the song is correct (like sitting on milk crates, that's true) but that was just from the first stop. I think we went to two more parties, and one of them was a circus thing? There was some kind of circusy fire thing with acrobats. God, that sounds cool, I wish I could remember it more specifically.

But then, like messy dumb white girls everywhere, I went too far with the sweet drinks and the shots and ended up outside the circus party, crying and basically in a wet heap on the sidewalk. I was unable to explain myself to kindly partygoers, and to this day I have no idea what made me so upset. My friend tried to get me onto a bus to go back to her apartment but I refused and forced everyone to get a $40 cab ride. Because I had devolved into a hot, sweaty mess and my friend was trying to manage me, she ended up leaving her wallet in the cab, which had all her Christmas gift cards in it. When I woke up the next day, and everything slid into nauseating focus, I was in so much pain. Not just the hangover, but like dying of embarrassment. I was hungover until about 7 PM, and sadly, I did not learn my lesson whatsoever.

A toast to the former versions of myself, all of whom were terrible. Cheers.