Dancing... Dancing.. YEAH! She's a dancing machine.

So, my friends David and Natalie are moving to New York. Tonight, a party was thrown to "send them off". It started enjoyably enough. Great food. Great drink (Homeade Sangria). Everyone chatting. I arrived fashionably late at about 8:45pm. Now, back at my own homestead, i see it is now 2:55am. The moral of the evening: Dancing brings the world together. Both Natalie and David have mean dancing streaks in them. So, as the partygoers thinned, the few that stood the test of time were handsomely rewarded with the blessing of the dance party. Around 10 or 11, Nat busted out the dance mix she had prepared on her ipod. It was a mix so totally bitching that I literally took notes on a postcard to download those songs when i got home. As my throbbing feet and calves (yes. i kept the high heels on through the whole dance party.) clearly understand, I've been dancing...and i mean DANCING for about 4 hours. At one point, about 8 or 10 women and usually about 1 guy (this was almost always David or Dawson) were giving their all on that floor. We even went Soul Train style for 3 or 4 songs; coining such dances as "The Blazer", "The Cowboy", a few indescribable moves Butterfly pulled out and "The Scarf". After cutting a rug with the same group for 4 hours, you have a certain unspoken bond. Strangers become friends on the dance floor, folks. It's true. I loved that at the end of the dance marathon, I introduced myself (or was introduced to) at least half of the same people I had been sweating to the oldies with for the entire night.

To hell with introductions. We have dancing shoes.

I'm "into" books.

I’ve been listening to a book on tape. I’m normally not a fan. I just love reading books and lose a great deal when I listen to them read over an extended period of time. I lose track of where I am, get thinking about other things. I just don’t daydream as much if I’m looking at words on a page. ANYWAY. My mother is in a book club. It mainly consists of English profs at Murray State, Librarians and a few teachers. I tagged along in high school with my mom and would always really look forward to the meetings. They always have a Christmas meeting and usually at our house in Kentucky. I’ve had the great fortune of being home for these meetings two years in a row. On the drive home today, I had planned my listening schedule so that I would finish the book just as I exited off of I-24. I was thoroughly engrossed in the book, (which I just realized I’ve yet to reveal…. It’s called “The Memory Keeper’s Daughter”) and indeed finished just in time before the book club arrived to the house. However, during pre-dinner banter, I realized that I had not, as I previously thought, finshed the book at all. Rather, there were 9 discs instead of the 5 I had once thought. Something for the trip home, I suppose.

I’m actually reading two other books right now as well. I’ve never done this (excluding being forced to read at an exorbant pace in college). But, I’m listening to Barbara Kingsolver’s “The Bean Trees” and reading Wendell Berry’s “Hannah Coulter”. Wow. Three Kentucky authors. Three pieces of fiction. So much for the spice of life.