Back to the Future

I've continued to have a reminiscent feelings about high school. It's not exactly deja vu (great, now that fucking Beyonce song is in my head), just a feeling of "wow, this is exactly where I wanted to be in 1997".

Last night, Mike and I hit up his friend Glenn's Exquisite Time party at Midway Cafe in JP. After catching the sound check for God Forbid, the most soulful white man since Robin Thicke, Glenn entertained the crowd with a performance by the Floor Lords. It's been a while since I've seen some decent breaking. A long while. It got me thinking...

From 13 to 16 I was all about getting in the circle on a dancefloor and showing off. Lots of uprocking and footwork, some lame rave moves (hey, it was the 90's) and a lot of balls. I immediately texted my dear old friend Abbey asking her whether or not we were hot shit when we took to the floor. I woke up this morning to a text from her "Si. Muy caliente!" which made my day.

There used to be a whole crew of us who took it so seriously and would practice at her house. I think we tried to start a contingent, the Tear-Up Squad, if I'm not mistaken. Everyone would doodle tags on their notebooks and send each other notes with ideas for choreography or who we were looking forward to battling come the weekend.

There was also this yellow down Polo vest that Abbey's sister Becky bought that was passed around amongst the girls in our circle. We once sent a girl we were trying to elbow out of our crowd on a wild goose chase from house to house because she wanted to borrow it. She pushed passed my sick grandmother for it but Nana didn't let her through. She was shortly dejected from our group after an incident involving her drinking from an open OJ container.