shake.

Ok, so it's really no surprise that music makes me lose control. Literally, figuratively, whatever. Give me a little "Your Body is a Wonderland" and I turn into a different person. Don't judge. This past weekend I was at a friend's wedding and although I was sooo tempted to bitch slap the DJ for wearing white gloves and a creepy zoot suit hat, I decided that since he was controlling the tunes, I'd give him a break. Lucky bastard.

Anyway, back to the point. So we walked in there and what do you think was playing? Frank Sinatra? No. Norah Jones? Nope, uh uh. Ludacris? If only I were that lucky. No no, of course it was Michael Buble, because nothing says "I'm mingling around at a wedding reception" like a little crooning from MB. I vow not to play one single MB song at my wedding. If anything, it'll be just for the sake of not subjecting people to "For Once in My Life" yet again while they munch on the goods provided at the hors d'oeuvres table before the booze line opens up again. (I'd like to see what people's reactions would be if they walked into my reception as "The Whisper Song" was playing... I can picture it now: "Yes, Grandma, he did just say 'What till you see my d*ck.'" So not classy, yet secretly fun. Don't deny it.) THEN then THEN, once all of that mingling/Buble/smooth jazz crap is out of the way, the real stuff can happen. You give this lady a little T.Pain, Lil Wayne, Ying Yang Twins, etc. and I'm one happy camper. Uh huh, this white girl loves to get low. Not only that, but any chance I get to do the J*r**s dance, I'll do it. I'm not even embarrassed about the fact that even though I've done that dance about seventy million times in the middle of the "white kid circle" (to be discussed later), I still get the same rush of excitement as the first time I pulled that move freshman year of college. And my dear friends, bless their hearts, encourage this ridiculous display of what one can only assume is slow motion double-ass-slapping. Warms my heart.

So back to this "white kid circle" business. WHAT IS IT WITH WHITE KIDS AND DANCE CIRCLES? If this little ritual isn't in "Stuff White People Like" by now, the author should lose all rights to his books/blog. I don't get it. It's like, OK, we already look awkward enough trying to imitate Beyonce and Chris Brown (pre-punchfest... what a loser), but then we have to go and form a circle to see who's ballsy enough to jump in the middle and show off their best (and probably only) skillz. Things to look out for in the white kid dance circle: catching and reeling in the fish, running man, sprinkler, off-beat butt-shaking, awkward show choir dance moves (hello sperm dance), aaaand if you're lucky enough, the guy with the least rhythm, but most soul, jumps in there and whatever happens is, well, indescribable. I know you're picturing who of your friends is this guy/girl right now and it's impossible not to be happy about it. But back to my point: seriously guys, close the effing gap. I don't care if you need to grind all up in someone's biz, pull a grandparent up onto the dance floor, or whatever else your creative mind can think up, just pleasePLEASEplease, no more circles.

And last, of course, is the dance face. Everyone has one. They're all embarrassingly entertaining, despite what anyone might tell you. The best thing about them is that whether or not they're intentional, you know exactly what the dancer is thinking. Let me elaborate... Picture a cute little sorority girl at her first frat party. Ok, once you're done laughing, we'll move on... while she's busting her sexiest I-practice-in-the-mirror-when-my-roommate-is-at-class moves, the look on her face is so intent--lips pursed, furrowed brow, eyes trying to be seductive, but actually just glazed and droopy from the jungle juice--on A. being sexy, and B. not doing anything too unsexy, that it's impossible not to laugh a little and secretly be embarrassed for her. So there's that, but then there's also the I'm-doing-my-sweetest-dance-move-I-know look, which basically is a look of mock disinterest while you wiggle around until you end with a booty-drop. Other people just sing the words (or make them up if they don't know them) to avoid awkward facial expressions. I've tried all three and let's be honest, they're all great in their own special way. So to circle back, I do love me a good dance party and will take an offer anytime, anywhere, and with anyone, to cut a rug. AND I'm of the strong opinion that everyone should share my same interest in dancing, just as long as it doesn't turn into a circle. Seriously. Oh, and if you ever need to hear a good beat, just listen to "Shake" by the Ying Yang Twins. I DARE you not to shake even a little bit. You'd have to duct tape me to a chair before I stopped shaking to that song.