Dancing and Drinking. Not the Fun Way.

8 Nov

I’ve been chatting online frequently with Caroline, one of my best friends from high school.  We both have early morning office jobs and catch up about 3-4 times a week.  It’s kind of like working with your friend.  Every now and again we get too busy to respond or have nothing new to report (we call them “updates”) but over the past couple of weeks we have really caught up with each other and I feel like I am more involved in her life that I’ve been in years!

We were on the Lincoln High School Dance Team together for all four years of high school.  Our friend (and one of her roommates now) who we were on the team with just became the new head coach!

Today Caroline was telling me about the first dance team competition of the year that she went to last night. She got me cracking up about some of the dancers.  Apparently one of the teams had a girl who kept messing up.  It’s common dance team knowledge to know that when you mess up, you keep on going like you didn’t. You are the only one who knows what’s supposed to be happening, so don’t show that you  messed up, and no one will know. Confidence!

This one poor, poor girl was apparently messing up. How did Carol know? Because the girl was expressively mouthing the words

“I MESSED UP!!” to the teammate dancing to the right of her in the kickline.

Classic. Just yell I MESSED UP!!! next time you make an error. It won’t go over well, I promise… Instead, lie with your face, hon.

This talk about dance team reminded me of some stories from back in the day…

Almost all of my best friends were on this team with me. As a Freshman, you know you are going to be in the back or hidden in the middle. As a Sophomore, you’re a little more front worthy, unless you still need more practice.  You might even find yourself in the front sometimes! As a Junior, you are generally in the front if you’re good, definitely if you’re great. And as a Senior, you have earned those front spots, damnit. This. Is. When. You. Shine.

Sammy and I found ourselves in the back two corners one day. We acted like it was no big deal.

“It’s okay. We’re seniors, role models, captains. We can be in the back for a few seconds.”

On this day, our coach was teaching a few 8-counts to a group of girls in the front of the gym.  Sam and I got to sign languaging across the gym to each other, expressing our frustration.

She blew me a kiss. I caught it and blew her a makeout back.

She caught my makeout and threw me a gross tonguey, slobbery, long kiss back.

I caught her tonguey, slobbery, long kiss and threw her back a blow job. You know where you stick your tongue in the side of your cheek when simulating a penis?

As I was simulating blow job, VERY loudly, echoing through the gym like a monster, I, and everyone else in Portland, heard

“KATE I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU’RE PRETENDING TO HAVE A DICK IN YOUR MOUTH BUT WE’RE DANCING OVER HERE!!!!”

My coach was yelling at me. I looked up with my tongue in my cheek and my hand in a fist next to my mouth as the entire dance team whipped around to see me.

Oops.

I retracted my tongue and put my arm down while trying desperately to figure out the moves I was supposed to be learning and execute them well.

On the other end of the gym, Sam had tears in her eyes.

She was trying to control her laughter.

I think that might have been the only time I embarrassed myself in front of that team… (Not that I didn’t constantly make a fool of myself, I just wasn’t ashamed of that).

My Sophomore year of high school revolved around dancing and drinking. Halloween tended to be one out of 30 ‘biggest parties of the year.’  The best part about Halloween was that it was always located at my bff Scarlett’s house.

Half of our group went to the football game that night and the other half skipped it altogether and just went straight to the tequila.

At some point during the game, that half of us realized that there was only a set amount of booze at Scarlett’s house and we were gonna get there too late! We weren’t gonna be able to get wayyyy to drunk if we didn’t act fast!!

We were back at Scarlett’s about 5 minutes after that thought had crossed our minds.

Instantly, we were circled up passing a bottle of tequila,  with a bottle of Snapple probably.

5 more minutes later the tequila was gone. We felt pretty relieved at that point. No one could take that liquor away from us now!

What does this have to do with dance team? Just wait. It will.

Two of the guys at this party brought Taco Bell over, the high school food of choice at LHS, and laced their tacos with mushrooms.

I’ve never done any drugs. My mother raised me religious…

Religiously terrified of any drug I take being laced with something much, much more terrifying. If I ever decided to try cocaine, it would definitely be laced with horse tranquilizers. Marijuana? Heroin.

I didn’t even know if these things were even possible, but even if they weren’t, it didn’t mean it couldn’t happen to me for the first time in history.

So naturally I am terrified of most things based on the fears my mother instilled in me at a very young age.

Penises? NOOO!!!!!

Driving while tired? YOU’LL DIE FOR SURE!!!

Wrinkles? NO ONE WILL LOVE YOU!!

Drink too much? YOU’LL PASS OUT, VOMIT INTO YOUR LUNGS, SUFFOCATE AND DIE!!

Smoke pot? You’ve already heard what happens.

So this magical, extra spooky Halloween, post-tequila kill, I got very, very drunk. People all around me were smoking some doobies and generating a lot of second hand smoke.

At approximately 3am I found myself on the floor of the laundry room contemplating my sanity.

At 4am I was in Scarlett’s bed, crying, while calling my parent’s phone numbers over and over and over and over and over. I called each one of their cell phones about 5 times each and the home phone about that amount as well. I mean, I was dying. Eventually I got a hold of Nancy on her cell phone.

“NANCY. I NEED YOU TO COME GET ME. I AM DYING. I THINK I SMOKED WEED THAT WAS LACED WITH MUSHROOMS AND NOW I’M DYING.”

It was very similar to that cop who called 911 after eating weed brownies to let them know that him and his wife were dead.

Nancy just laughed and told me that I was just really drunk and probably high. Her laughing at me calmed me down A LOT. Caroline came over too when I got a hold of her and laughed at me as well. I was definitely expecting everyone to start freaking out, running around, call 911, CPR, IV’s to the arms…

Eventually I fell asleep somewhere.

A couple hours later it was time for a 6 hour dance practice…

Scarlett and I got out of bed. Yikes…

Let’s just say that practice was next to impossible that day.  You need your equilibrium to be very ‘on’ when spinning on your toes for 6 hours. I’d say we more of ‘wobbled.’

I wanted to vomit all day long. I’m pretty sure Scarlett did.

Practically every other sophomore looked like we did. Nodding in sick agreement.

And that was the last time I did that.

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One Response to “Dancing and Drinking. Not the Fun Way.”

  1. Mom November 17, 2010 at 10:26 pm #

    Oh my that was a memory!!! But, I need to make a correction…..it wasn’t wrinkles that I was warning you about, it was the ugly bags you get under your eyes, from dehydration due to excessive alcohol intake!!

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