Post-Matriculation Booty Shakin'

During my college days, I was a bit of a party-music connoisseur. I had an extensive collection of CDs, and was usually the primary resource for any of the music played during my sorority's house parties. And I loved it. I would spend most of my post-tuition earnings on the latest and greatest in hip-hop, dance, and a little pop. On Thursday nights, my roommate and I would rock out to my latest finds. We’d even turn on the Christmas lights we’d strewn about the room in an attempt to lure boys into our room. Not that we needed the “mood lighting.” It was after all, college.

Then life happened. College ended (the fun years anyway), post-college break-ups occurred, and my life as a corporate drone started. Not only were my fun party CDs irrelevant, they just weren’t as cool to listen to. Somehow, sitting in traffic after a 10-hour day, feeling my Spanx cut off all circulation to my lower extremities voided any need to play The Thong Song. Instead, I made friends with Elvis Costello, The Cure, and Dashboard Confessional.

But every once in awhile, when I least expect it, I’ll hear something that takes me right back to those days. And there I am, shaking my ass on the dance floor of our neighboring fraternity house. A never-ending supply of screwdriver drinks in my hand, my feet in the highest heels I could find, my lips never un-glossed and ever ready for any potential 2AM make-out sessions.

This weekend, my friend K-Ro came out for a visit. We were bouncing around town, when LMFAO’s I’m in Miami, Bitch came on the radio. We both stopped mid-sentence, and I immediately turned up the radio. The song has been in constant replay since that moment. Sometimes I can overlook all of the things that I consider to make ‘good’ music, and just enjoy something that makes me want to get out of my seat and dance.

I got a plan, what’s your cell?
We playin’ naked Twister back in my hotel…