Dancing queens.

I went dancing last night. Like, let-loose, sweat-from-every-pore, smoke-on-the-dance-floor, laugh-with-your-girlfriends dancing. It was such a good time, there may not be words. Only, I'll always come up with something to type here on the bloggity-blog. But I'm not kidding, you guys. The idea came upon us on a whim, as a combined bridal shower was coming to a close. And, of course, in order to find any reputable dancing around here, we went straight to an area gay bar. It was phenomenal. 'Thelma & Louise' played on flat screens that lined every single wall. It was so visually overstimulating. A DJ! A glowing bar top! Lasers! Loud music! Cute (albeit very gay) bartender! Fire-red fruity cocktails! zOMG!ponies1!

So the five of us ladies, a few beers in and still dressed in our work attire, poured onto the dance floor for the next couple hours. People probably stared. In fact, I'm pretty sure they did. I'm over it. I had a blast.  With this dance floor, how could you not?