Dance like you've never danced before.

I turned 32 at Buffy Prom. At some point when I wasn't paying attention, the days slipped over from March 10, Saturday night, to March 11, Sunday morning, and in that shift, I'd gone another year around the sun. I might've been drinking, I might've been dancing, I might've been laughing. I was definitely having a wonderful time.

Throughout the night, people asked me how I was enjoying myself. I told them all the same thing: "It beats the shit out of every prom I attended in high school." It's true because I attended one prom, sophomore year, to help a friend get a shot at the duct tape prom scholarship. We didn't win, and we also left pretty early - I would've been happy staying longer but he just wanted to be there enough to qualify for the contest. So it wasn't much of a prom. Still, it counted, and it remains a good anecdote. It wasn't as good a prom as the one this year. My dress was easier to dance in, for one. I went by myself so I could stay as long as I wanted, for another. My trivia team won, for something else. Our name was Spiked Punch, and through our keen knowledge of Buffy trivia, we won...a bowl of spiked punch. It was meant to be. Especially when it turned all our tongues blue. Because you never give up a chance to drink something big and blue.

My other drinks of the night were a white rum-pineapple juice mix, and a Brandy Alexander. The bartender hadn't even heard of one, but she had the ingredients on hand, and after she looked up how to make them, served me one of the best ones I've ever drunk. Seriously, I've been to high-end hotel bars that didn't make them as good as she did her first time. I told her she had a new story to tell, and she laughed and said yes, she did.

There was a slight problem with what I kept thinking of as praxial tilt, where I knew maybe a quarter of all the songs played through the night. The others I either couldn't place or just hadn't ever heard before. It lead to a few odd exchanges of people staring dumbfounded at me for not knowing things like who Missy Elliot was, or having never heard Hanson songs before. Honestly, I don't mind having those specific gaps in my knowledge, and it was sharply entertaining to get those expressions onto people's faces. They just couldn't comprehend it. Like I said: praxial tilt. At least I had a proper 1990s-style fabric choker necklace that I actually got back in high school.

I got there almost twenty minutes before the event started, and I was one of the first ones through the door. It was in the bar's back room, a pretty small space made even smaller with the decorations, chairs, and small stage for the Campy Cabaret to do their Buffy thing, welcoming us and introducing themselves. First was the costume contest - a couple of Buffys, a couple of Faiths, a Giles, a Drusilla, a Tara, a Dark Willow. The Giles took home the applause, and our hearts. After that, it was trivia time. Then the Cabaret did a solid bit of sketchwork, singing some filk to songs I couldn't place to begin with but could laugh at the new versions and acting out season three in just a couple of minutes to all our joy.

Then. And then. That was when it was time to dance. Small, dark space. Plenty of bodies. Not a whole lot of room to throw myself around, but easy to stand by myself and sway and sing along, just happy to be there. Closing my eyes, forgetting about myself, letting the moment happen as it happened without it needing to be anything. Just to be there. It's not something I get to do much, and not something I'd have been able to do back in high school, either. Too much going on back then. Not that there isn't a lot going on right now, either - just that I know how to keep my feet underneath me a little better. Better enough that I can lean against the main pillar in the middle of the room and sing along to "Wild Horses" without paying attention to myself. Just to the song.

Of course, by the time we got to "Smells Like Teen Spirit" my dance style was just "stay upright." I let my hair down for that one, too, getting up on stage to toss it around and use it like a dance partner. Though I did dance with a few people, too. I didn't get their names so I don't know if I'll ever find them again, but I think it's nice this way, too. Mysterious dancers, going wild with one and kissing another on the cheek. Doing a passable amateur waltz while highly inebriated and leading him along because he couldn't do it at all. Getting a quick kiss good-night on the lips from the last and leaving right after that, walking home a year older and happier.

I was one of the first ones in, and I was one of the last ones to leave. I walked back along Broadway, in the tiny hours of my new year, and when I got back, managed to stay upright long enough to shower and snuggle into bed. In the past, I've always slept through the birthday shift. I've never danced through one before. It's definitely something I'll have to see about doing again next year.