tavie.com

We went to a salsa club with Mike for his birthday. (Everyone went except Gina, who was resting up after her trip to the EMERGENCY ROOM on Tuesday night due to unexplained heart palpitations. They said it was nothing and she's fine. )

I don't like clubs, and I have a well-known aversion to dancing. Nevertheless: Mike is an incredible dancer, and lots of fun to watch. I made it known before hand that I would be there because of his birthday, but I would not be dancing. Still, everyone tried to make me, and I felt like a huge jerk. I always do when I have to refuse to dance. It's just that I can't. I won't. I don't. I never have. Not once. Not ever. Not even in secret. (Except for that once when I did the Twist to that song from Hairspray. Alone. In Mint Manor. Just the one time.) And I never will. (The reason is pretty obvious if you know me well enough and think about it really hard. It's related to the reason my hair is so long.)

It's a real, irrational phobia and there's nothing I can do about it. That's why I normally don't like to put myself in situations where dancing will be expected. Mike seemed happy, I hope I didn't hurt his feelings too much. He is a fantastic dancer and it was fun to see him so in his element. So much more than anywhere else I've seen him since he moved to New York.

It's hideously late now. Godammit. Not sleepy. Godammit.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:06 AM | shower me with attention