Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Victory Laps


For those of you that didn't know, I had a huge test at work on Friday. HUGE. Like one of those tests that if you fail twice in theory you don't get to keep your job. Sidenote, that definitely doesn't happen, but per your employment agreement, definitely can happen.  Anyway, this test had essentially consumed my life for the past week, and let's get real, nobody likes that. Particularly not me. So you can only imagine my relief. It was something akin to the kid above. Or, if you knew me in college, victory lap worthy.  After finishing a big paper, project, etc. I used to take a victory lap around the house - aka running in celebration through every room and up and down every hallway with my hands up.  Completely normal.  So everyone that has ever lived with me: you're welcome. Victory laps still occasionally happen, but it's a lot less thrilling when you live alone and your apartment is actually one giant circle.

So not only did I have awkward celebratory dances at work and my apartment, I straight tore it up at an Indian wedding this weekend. Aside from the very long prayer ceremony that I didn't understand, the barat in the beginning (essentially a dance celebrating the groom #diva #notyourday #loveitanyway #hatersgonnahate) and the reception and dancing after were AH-MAZING.  Like, I would totally marry just for that kind of wedding amazing. And to top it all off, I got a lengha for the occasion.  This blog is seriously becoming educational and I should really look into being sponsored by PBS given my love and devotion to their cause, but a lengha is a two piece outfit as opposed to a sari which I would have wrapped myself and ended up with a serious wardrobe malfunction.

Seafoam green is not my color and it was decidedly not the most flattering thing I've ever worn, but the beading was absolutely to die for.  Plus, I got it super cheap from a god-send of a Facebook group I belong to, so no complaints here. Also, per a dear friend when I asked her if it was appropriate to get some sort of Indian apparel informed me "brown people love it when white people dress up like us."  So that clearly sealed the deal.  And let me tell you, she was not wrong. I got my dance on and am pretty sure I was mistaken for family. Almost... I mean, it could be close.... Not at all. But I did the screw in the lightbulb, the pat the dog, circle-y do, the pony, ankle wars, the whip, the nae nae. Aka we got turnt.  Yup, I just went there.

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