Little Miss Hipshake

I have a problem - when there’s a beat on, my hips move. Independent of my brain telling me I likely look goofy. Just like my kids, though, my hips don’t pay any attention to what I say. So what’s a body to do?

I guess the only answer is “go with the flow,” eh? Why fight it? At the very least, dancing is awesome exercise, although thankfully not classified as such. I am violently opposed to the concept of exercising. But if the song says "Run, girl," I say, "Ok!"

The problem is the way I dance. Although I don't intend it to, it sort of attracts attention, which I am also violently opposed to. To start, I am just moving to the beat; before long, though, my eyes are half-closed and my mind is wandering, and suddenly I am thinking about that other oh-so-pleasant activity that requires similar movements. And then my dancing changes...

I think others must sense what I’m thinking, too, judging by the number of men who approach me on the floor. I am in a club with about 500 young adults, and guys are trying to dance with me. HELLO!! I’m freakin’ twice the age of everyone else in the club!! Do you not see the hot 23 year old chick dancing next to me?

At least in a dance club, I’m not completely out of place. Example – my skirt is eight inches from waist to hem; ok, maybe six. But the asian girl next to me is wearing a 4 inch strip of fabric around her waist and a two inch vertical strip over each breast. I am by no means revealing too much flesh in a dance club, even if I am when I wear that same skirt to work or the grocery store.

I dance different under certain circumstances, too. I once tied my wrists together to see what would happen. I danced, then I tied my wrists together and danced to the same song again. The wrist-tied dancing was definitely different; wayyyy. Interesting, yes? I haven’t yet finished my psychological evaluation of that phenomenon. Strangely enough, though, now, when I’m on the floor and cross my wrists over my head, a pair of male hands will invariably find their way to my...um, hips.

I totally agree that rap is crap, no argument there. But COME ON! When the DJ puts Pump It on, and booty start shakin’ double time, there is not a single guy in the club complaining about the words to the song. And mid-song, when the movement changes to a slow "dip and body-thrusting" half-time beat, are YOU gonna complain? Go ahead, put the song on now and imagine T&A shaking 7 inches from your 6-inch hard on. Yeah. Who the hell is listening to the words, anyway. That’s just a waste of time…

Um, gotta go. Hips Don’t Lie just came on. Shakira, Shakira, Shakira 