Eggs of the Wrong Kind and Chair Dancing

The only thing stopping me from making cookie batter cookies right now is two eggs.
Well, as noted yesterday I've got plenty of eggs they're just hard boiled.
I need raw.
I wish we had chickens.
Wouldn't that be awesome?
I mean, I wouldn't touch them or go near them but it'd be cool to have them produce eggs for us.
 

Dinner is in the oven, KK is swinging and J and the boys are playing baseball in the backyard.
It's a total miracle that our decorative lights are still strung in tact over the back yard.
With all the flying balls I cannot believe one hasn't broken. Well, one has broken but it was hit by someone standing completely still. An adult, no less.
I think I've heard B say, "Daddy" at least 1,475 times in the last ten minutes. Oy!
Yet, I'm the one inside with a cocktail. {snicker, snicker}

Let me tell you about my recent girls night out.
Sixty girls, dancing, singing and one man.
Dan, the man of the hour.
A few beverages, none of which had any alcohol content though.
Sound fun?
Oh and a little money was involved.
No, not ones.
What do you think of me?!

In actuality, it was a market research survey on music for the middle aged woman.
And dang it, I fit in that age group.
My girlfriend and I headed up to Phoenix for two nights in a row and essentially sat and listened to  2,600 songs over five hours.
Not a bad gig for a few extra bones.

It was hilarious to watch the transition from night one to night two.
The first night when we filed into the room it was dead silent.
We listened to Dan give instructions along with his corny one liners that get lots of mileage I'm sure.
Then we were given our evaluating devices and got our groove on.
Seriously, so funny to see rows of women trying to contain themselves from dancing.
There was a lot of chair dancing, head nodding and lip syncing.
I forgot to mention that one of our rules was: NO SINGING.

The second night as we filed in, Dan had to "hush" the room.
Apparently some of these women had planted seeds to a friendship on night #1.
They giggled and chatted like old friends....bloom.
Because the first night was identical to night one, I got a bit bored. That happens to me. Easily.
So I people watched.

I was most intrigued by the Indian women in the front row who knew EVERY SINGLE SONG.
She was also a rule breaker because she sang every one of them, that's how I know.
She was late 50's, glasses, a bun on her head, her shirt looked of Indian design...any maybe missing her front two teeth. I couldn't really tell.
When she stood up, she had on bright yellow jeans and orange combat boots.
Totally intriguing.
And very hip.

Then there was the bossy chick in the back room who had the gumption to raise her hand and tattle, yes tattle, on someone who was humming.
Come on girls! I was seriously waiting for the cat fight.

To appease my boredom and to my delight there were blank note pads and pens placed in front of me like water in the desert. Ahhh.
So what does a bored and contained women do? Doodle and make lists.
Shopping lists.
To do lists.
Meal planning lists.
And then, the good times list.

The Good Times list had names, events, places and memories listed.
It's amazing how music can trigger memories. Smiles, tears or laughter, what ever it be,  it was fun.
Music was sampled from 1970's and on so that covered my elementary, junior high, high school, college and real life time span.
Oh, the memories.


A Sample of The "Good Times" List. 
Did you make it?

Erin & Shannon at the Kiowa house, junior high dances where I just waited for HIM to ask me to dance, Jeanne & Kadie in the dorms of NAU, Mark and Cindy...oh so missed. Smoking cloves with Jenn and the long drives to/from NAU, LIVE concert, Joe in Vegas, making out with the ex-bf in his car, Nellie's family videos...oh so cute. Dance performances. Cruising Mill back in the day with the girls. Jason and the AC/DC guitar lesson in SD. Rocking my babies to sleep. Mari. Paul. Beach music. Prom. Prom again. Delivery room. Mary Lester, RIP. Tailgates. Countless weddings and foolish wedding hyped up dancing. Late night campfire tunes. And the list continues...

So maybe the groovin' older Indian women stuck out to me as unique but I may have looked just as noticeable with my pen frantically jotting down memories with a big smile on my face.

Minus the orange combat boots.