I had such a fantastic time at Blogher. In a teeny nutshell, I was just so thrilled to be surrounded by smart, hilarious and well-rounded women instead of wiping dookie booty all day. (Can I get an AMEN?)
I think my personal high (LOW! LOW!) point of the weekend had to be “dancing” at the Mighty Haus launch party. Now, one would think that upon being invited to a party hosted by the lovely Maggie Mason, you would keep a certain air of composure about yourself as you navigate through the space and guests. And I did that…for about the first hour or so.
It’s just that people started to dance. And I really didn’t WANT to dance, but bodies were filing onto the dance floor and my adrenaline started pumping, and well, you’ll see.
There I am, making my way onto the dance floor. You can smell the determination in the air, can’t you?
Here is my trademark warm-up maneuver. I like to walk around the floor, clapping my hands next to my ear, much like the Paso Doble. Look how Heather is rendered helpless by my matador-like movement. There is no denying it, she wants me.
After the blood starts pumping, I launch into a contemporary performance art piece that Mia Michaels might as well have choreographed herself. Now, to the untrained eye, it seems I’m attempting the Charleston, but check out the back of my shirt. See how it’s airborne? This could only mean I’m at the tail end of David Lee Roth-type jumping maneuver. Leslie and Alana are AMAZED by my dancing prowess.
Seriously, I have no idea.
The pièce de résistance. My beloved Sprinkler maneuver. Let’s chat about this photo for a second.
1. Take notice of my face color. No, not reddish purple from embarrassment, but from INTENSITY. The Sprinkler is no joke, people.
2. I wonder, am I actually singing AND dancing at the same time? Or is it more of a guttural grunt, much like Serena Williams playing tennis?
3. My shirt buttons are literally holding on for dear life. Like I said, such is the Intensity of The Sprinkler.
4. The crotch of my pants is halfway down to my knees. This can only mean that the Van Halen jumps have loosened my pants considerably.
5. Will you marvel at my hand form? Mary Murphy would have nothing but praise for my lines.
All in all, I’m wondering about SYTYCD’s age limit for auditions because I am SO THERE NEXT YEAR.