diary girl.: Mama Don't Club No Mo'

Last night, I went where no part of me wanted/but everyone thinks a Jersey girl should want...to go. I went to a club. Like an, UNCE UNCE UNCE, fists in the air, guido-loving club. And I've never been more terrified.

The days leading up to the big clubbing extravaganza were nerve wracking. Will I get let in at this age? What if they see my wrinkles and turn me away? Must I spring for a spandex tube dress with slits down the side, spray tan myself bronze like a little trophy and drop an ecstasy pill just to belong? I mean, that's what clubbing is, right? WHAT DO I DO?! I figured that I should think back to college when clubbing was a weekly thing. My brain short circuited immediately because back then when I went to a club, I was always just so pumped to have someone check my ID and let me through the door, that what happened afterwards was meaningless. Even though, I'm pretty sure it included me laughing at my friends dancing while I never left the bar and inevitably talked someones' ear off.

FACTS:

~I've always been a horrendous dancer and therefore only partake in moves such as the robot or a Shakespearean interpretation of Beyonce's, "Who Run the World?"

~I've always liked bar stools. Clubs do not have bar stools.

~Boozy Laura = Insanely loquacious Laura. All I wanna do is TALK YO EAR OFF! Just kidding. Sorta.

So, no dancing, screaming over loud music to people who can't hear me with no place to sit. That's what I went into it thinking about. HOWEVER, the reason behind this whole club thing was going to be worth it. One of my very best friends whom I've known and loved since the 6th grade was turning 29. 29! That's a pretty big deal. I obviously had to be there. She is a retired club kid who thought that it would be fun to throw the old dancing kicks back on for a night. I get it! And I was even honored that she invited me. So that's why I ended up at a "monster huge" club with reviews like: "Guido-supreme on Saturdays!" and "On most nights you can usually find a place to stand."

What happens if we don't find a place to stand?!

Ultimately, we came, we clubbed, we got home at 2am and ate an entire pizza laughing over how ridiculously FUN the night was. I can't believe how judgmental I've been to all these crazy clubbers. Every girl that I talked to or bumped into was super nice and although some of guys were a tad on the scary-tan & muscle-y side, they weren't completely freaking me out with their guido supreme-ness. I had an epiphany. Guido's are people too! Sure, I probably won't ever go to a club again but I will definitely have more of an open mind about the whole thing. Lesson learned. Go me!

Oh, and my voice is shot. I scream/talked for 3 hours straight and proceeded to go completely deaf as I walked to our cab at 2am. YAY!

Pictures from our fabulous 3 hour foray into the club scene: