Boliche Faced

So, for Christmas I got this nifty little book. It´s called 100 words to sound smarter, complete with the correct pronunciation and defination. Guess what, it is useless in Argentina because no matter what I say in Spanish, I always sound like I´m 5. This is a good thing, however, because a year ago, whenever I would speak in Spanish, I sounded like I was 3. IMPROVEMENT!

In The States, I came to the conclusion that I was a cool person. Going out dancing all night is aways a sure thing. And by all night, I do mean that by two thirty am, I´d like to be, if not already, headed home where I can rest my little eyes and prepare for the upcoming day. I´m not as cool as I thought, in Argentina.

I attedned my first dance party at a Boliche. (Pronounced Bow-leech-eh). Shall we start off with the fact that these fasinating clubs exploding with energy, lights, and sweat do not open until 2am. These days, come one thirty am, I feel the itch, and not the kind you cure with a cream (Semi colon) the kind you rid with some glorious sleep. But I figure, hey, why not, this is what this trip is about. And I´m always ready for some hard core dancing!

So around two thirty, six of us arrive at said Boliche. You could hear the music 2 blocks away and feel the energy of the people and excitement even before that. Walking in was like a scene from a movie. Not that I film many scenes for movies, but if I did, based on the entrance alone...Blockbuster, no doubt!

Overflowing with strobe lights, disco balls, fog machines, bubbles, and 300 plus people who also want to dance their faces off, this place was out of control fun. My first thought was, did I remember to put on deodorant, my second thought was, who really cares!

Sadly, the cool group of 6 that we were, bypasses the dancing areas and heads near one of the bars...(Cha-Ching!) And for a while, there we stood...in a circle...moving side to side...ocasionally someone throwing out an outdated move from the US such as the sprinkler or shopping cart. I was NOT having this. I realized that this was our prliminary stop, you see, because if were were going to be there until close, around 6am, we didn´t want to over exude(Get back to me if this is not the correct usage of this word; I´ll resort to the book of 99 others) ourselves.

Finally, we get to the dance area, hardly a dance floor, more like a dance ballroom-sized room. This is when the hair started flying and the jumping commenced, and the hands stammered in the air and the sweating happened, and the laughing wouldn´t stop and the lights flashed and the room spun, and the lound music thumped from my baby toe to the tip of my finger nails. All the songs sounded the same to me; all in spanish with a different rhythm. Everyone else on the other hand, screamed at each song as if it were their favorite and they haden´t heard it years, and that it was better than the previous... Including Joe Cockers, You Can LEave Your Hat On. (Really Argentina, this isn´t 1984). But still, because I knew the words, it was even exciting to me.

For the next 4 hours, we didn´t stop. I used my lack of hearing and language barrier as an excuese to not have to try and speak and/or understand anyone...which worked out stupendiously when creepy guy 1 and 2 wouldn´t leave. I figuring dancing, laughing, and having a good time is universal and that´s all that needed to be understood. Finally, aound five thrity am, I was finished. I made this apparent by standing perfectly still in the middle of everyone dancing. No one said anything to me, but we left soon sfter that.

Got home around 6 ish and in enough time to smash my face into the pillow at 630 am. It never fails that partying like a rockstar has its reprocussions. I will be tired for the rest of the week, (Because I am an old woman these days, early to bed and early to rise...something something something...) But being tired is a small price to pay for an UNFORGETABLE night of Boliche oriented sweaty fun. And who knew you could do all of this without being hammered; how refreshing it´s been not to be hungover- go figure?!?