i can't move my butt

After a morning of frantic shopping for ghetto-ass clothes, 3 hours of dancing and squatting, and going out and dancing all night, my butt is completely sore.

Michelle and I headed off to Serramonte (where else would you find ghetto-ass clothes?) to pick out a costume for my dance show in a couple of weeks. We found the cutest white skirt - with shorts built in! - and a ton of fun stuff at Forever 21. "I'm here for costume approval," I said to Micaya when I walked in the door, decked out in the skirt, pink J. Lo hat, sweatshirt over blue tank and fishnets. "You look hella cute - get out of here!" she laughed.

The best thing about my costume? I can dance in it - unlike my sad, sad attempt to dance in knee-high boots and a mini skirt last week.

Later on in the evening, I met up with Eric H., Karen and Agnes at Butterfly. For some reason, I always thought that it was a full-on club after dinner hours, but they closed the bar around 12, so we headed off to Fuse for cucumber cosmos and dancing.

Gawd, what is it about North Beach? When we were walking there, we saw so many hella-ghetto boys, all leering at the three of us. Then, in the club, there was this amazing white guy dancing, well - like a white guy. And I don't just mean a guy who doesn't have great rhythm. I mean like point point clap point clap clap squat cowboy dancing. I couldn't stop cracking up - I had just watched the "How to Dance Like a White Guy" video the night before, and I swear, he had all those moves going on.

After last call, we ended up at some Chinese restaurant, where we overindulged in noodles. We were originally going to go out some more, but I think we all passed out from the food. *Sigh* Long weekends are bad for my diet.