Experimenting Play

This is the confessions of a true blue geek.
Despite having been diagnosed an ENFP (translate: CAPTAIN WILDCHILD) by the free MBTI personality test online, I find comfort in snuggling up alone in front of the screen on most Friday nights."TAMMMAAAAKIIII SUOUUUU<3~"
Oh wait, it wasn't Friday. Yesterday was Thursday (GOD BLESS LONG WEEKENDS, I LOVE SO YOU MUCH).

I was seized from my humble dwellings and chucked into the middle of a dancefloor.
This is the story of a self-confessed "Yeah I know I've been missing out on a lot because I'm 20 and I haven't been to a club till yesterday". Heh.

So I got home from work, had dinner, practised a bit on the violin. Sounds like a typical work night.
Showered. Still normal.
Dolled up and left the house. In heels. (YES I KNOW, THIS IS SUICIDE.)
Reached the train station and seconds away from the gantry, I regretted. So I turned around and went home in want of the sneakers I love very much.
"Screw it, not gonna care how mismatched I'm gonna look."

Well, it didn't match so I ditched the entire outfit. (Yay sneakers and brand new attire)

Since I was very late (I'm so sorrrrry charmms), I took a cab.

Got to the destination. The line was so long. The crowd was different. The walls were vibrating.

I was scared shitless. (Think the risk of permanent ear damage)
"Nooooooooooooo what if I can't hear the resonance of GDAE after tonight? SHITSHITSHIT."

Anyways, met some new people, they were all pretty cool. I thought I was pretty queer.
Hell, yeah. I was terrified. Like some baby polar bear in a cargo truck en route to Sahara.

Got to the front of the line. They asked for my ID.
In my mindless attempt to stuff everything into my borrowed clutch earlier on, I have forgotten about my ID.

"Sorry, if there's a raid and you don't have an ID, we'll all get into trouble."
It's a sign. We were just never meant to be, Valerie and Happening Night Life.

But the friends didn't let Val off. And Val didn't want to let the friends down.
So off in a cab she goes, in pursuit of The Great Identity Card.
See? Told you I was queer. I felt like I was dubbed the greatest loser on Clubtomania.
Which idiot leaves her ID at home on a night out?

Got home, retrieved the ID card and a received dirty glare from an unhappy father ("Still going out?!").

Got back. The club was full. The person who turned me away from before saw how pathetic I looked, now with the ID, let me in free.
Yes, girl in blue shirt. I will remember you and love you for as long as I live on Clubtomania.
Wait, I can't love you. You probably love someone else, and she's probably a million times smarter than I am on this whole new, intriguing subject. If clubbing were ever objectified, I swear, it'd be a glow in dark piece of goo. Mysterious, and glow in the dark.

( I'll come to the "she loves her" part in a bit).

Got in. Dance floor was packed. But since it was still early, it took a while for the crowd to warm up a bit. So everyone was just hanging around, bobbing to the beats. *boing boing boing boing.
Everyone except for this couple who was already at it. Kissing. Making out.
Not the groovy kind, or the tender lip-locking kind.
Its the "My Hands Are Pulling At Your Hair And We Are Moving From One End of the Dance Floor To Another Energetically. If Not For Our Lip Locking, People Would Think We're Wrestling" kind.

Wow. This is amazing.
It's a gay club, so if you have any reservations against them, please just stop reading. I like them, they're nice people. So let's not get personal here.

Okay, so we got our drinks and hit the dancefloor.
I. Have. Never. Danced. In. Twenty. Years. Of. My. Life.
(unless you count that time we had to do line dance in PE)

It was pretty cool. Some people could really dance. My friends can dance! Some people just bounced along. Some just made out ( I've already gotten used to it, but "Wrestling Duo" pwned everyone in the Showmanship category).

I tried to swing my arms like how I saw some people do.
I felt like an orang utan instantly.

Some people knew the words to all the songs.
I only knew two words, so every time it comes on, I'll "AMERICAN BOOOOYYY" like never before.

Some people danced alone. Some people with their partners. Others did the rain dance.
Those who rain danced didn't give us much space, so countless times (I repeat with emphasis on "Countless") our bodies hit each other.

Me (while "dancing"): Omg, some girl is kissing my ass with hers!
XX: -_-, that's dry humping.
Me: AWESOME ASS KISSING, BABY!
(Okay, I know I was quite high)
Me: ASS KISSING, ASS KISSING, ASS ASS KISSING!
( I was quite glad it was a girl, and it was a gay club, because if a boy ever tries to ass kiss, I would totally scream).

-

Someone: Whoa, super crammed.
Me: WHAT??
( Music was pretty loud.)
Her: SUPER CRAMMED.
Me: OH YES, LIKE TUNA!
Me: TUNA TUNA!! TUNA IS A SEXY FISH! Sexaye sexaye TUNA TUNA! *dances*

This is where the ENFP thing rings true. ENFPs have the ability to seem intoxicated, even without alcohol.

Unicorns.

Okay, attention flickering. Off to direct it to something else. This is a long post. It's tiring.

For the people who were wondering where the heck I was

I was working.
In actual fact, I am working.

Yes, I'm a full time employee in a real company, benefits and all.

I love the company, but I don't dwell on the fact that I enjoy my job scope as much now that I've switched over to full time (it's a different position, don't ask).

In the meantime, yours truly has been working on getting the right qualifications, taking the relevant classes, overdosing on John Mayer and Yehudi Menuhin.

Go me.