It’s funny how memory works and how it doesn’t. How we remember things the way we want to remember them rather than how they really were. The new Britney Spears dance song, “Till the World Ends” is an intense pop club anthem that brings up many vivid memories from my past. Just hearing it takes me back to the days of finagling myself into clubs that were for 21 and older when I wasn’t. When I listen to this song, I can see the low lighting, and flashing strobe lights of the club. I can almost feel the vibrations of the speakers against my body as I picture myself back in time, dancing in stilettos in a glittering sea of people. It was a whimsical time full of fashion, fun, and fabulosity- wait, am I thinking of my life or the entire premise of the TV series Sex in the City?
Rewind. Most of what I described was true, the sore feet the next morning from the stilettos, the nerves wondering if the bouncer would let me in, the sweaty gyrating crowds. It was fun, those nights were late and full of alcohol and chain smoking, smokey eyed make up and the sparkliest earrings money could buy. The mornings were full of hang overs mainly, and then the inevitable memory recall. Who knew trying to think of the previous night’s events in chronological order could be so challenging? Then there were the inevitable conversations with friends about the night, the “I said what?”s, and the mocking of anyone who was exuberantly creepy or offensive.