Twenty Eight

Time.. it waits for no men. Wrinkles.. it waits for no age. Maturity.. now that's something that waits for you.

As planned on Wednesday, the plan for the night was to party at Sedona Hotel with the crew and Jellybean before he leaves for Thailand on Sunday. The first plan was to actually chill out at Steve's house for his school party.

Steve works as a homeroom teacher in an international school and he's decided to throw a party for his workmates at his place on the night which happened to be the same night that we all decided to party at Sedona. So, I was over at Steve's house. Knowing the people at the party would be folks from age 20-no limit, I wore a red slim tie over a smart casual sleeves rolled up long sleeved shirt with a bootleg jeans and a black shiny shoes. I look like a mid thirty homeroom teacher myself.. but of course, a good looking one.

Now, as predicted, the party people were of all age and nationalities. From a fat bitchy Dutch chick who's married to a Burmese scumbag to a hip fifty years old Canadian who has a huge passion for grunge music, the party wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Even KP, who's usually claustaphobic and 'hanging around strangers'phobic, ended up talking to a lot of people around him. Few good people involves Herman the German and his amazing Burmese wife who makes the best kische, two weeks old in Burma Aussie guy Brian and his Indonesian pregnant wife with a white rimmed glass, the kick ass fifty plus Canadian Ron who loves grunge music with his wife Martha, the sexy Filippino chick Dori and her boyfriend, who I didn't really get to know, and her sister Rachel and quiet but friendly Aussie dude Glenn.

Talking with the Australian people made me feel a bit nostalgic but the most interesting part of the evening was when I realized that I was actually conversing about cars, kids, pregnancies, hospitals, Thailand, schools, kische and marriage as opposed to sex, gay men and MTV. It's kinda cute when the conversation actually swerves to sex, gay men and ghosts when most of us got intoxicated. It was a cool party to be honest.

Afterwards, as planned, KP and his wife, Steve and his wife, Joel and I hit the hotel. Met Jellybean halfway as well. The funny thing was .. some guests from the house party joined us as well. So, you got a group of mixed nationality and age.

Clubbing in Sydney was mostly about dancing and good songs. And of course alcohol depending on how good my ex or my datee has been during that time. I used to dance my ass off on the dance floor in Sydney and shake my ass with this huge sign 'gay pride' on my forehead. I love it when I get attention from the people around me. I mean, I'm not a good dancer but I'm a kid who grew up with MTV on most of the time. So, my moves were somewhat hip or just acceptably cool. I would wait for a good song to come on and just dance my ass off and that was how I would define good times. This time, it was different. I was on the dancefloor and I took time trying to blend to this DDR-like beat but got sick of trying to look cool and I looked around me and I saw some of my friends trying their best to dance. Then, I saw how un-co this all was, not because my friends were horrible at dancing but mostly cos the songs suck. Then, I realized how stupid we all looked on the dancefloor. So, I started dancing silly and following dance steps my friends were doing. This summed up to a huge crowd of easy stepped dance moves done by this huge ass group of friends who are just there to have fun. I guess I found the best way to enjoy clubbing. Just have fun with your friends. It wasn't about the people looking at you; it wasn't about whether you will get picked up or not. It was just simply about having fun with your friends. So, there I was, dancing silly and the magic here, I realized, was the fact that no matter how few of us were left on the dancefloor, it doesn't feel silly. I feel like we were just having fun and if anyone was watching us, I swear it'd be cos of either envy or jealousy. And this wasn't because we could dance.. it was cos we were just enjoying our night. So, in another word, I look like a straight guy who's never been to a dance class dancing quite acceptably synchronized to the beat.

It was a good feeling. I finally realized that having fun in clubs is not about having the best moves or picking up. I guess it was about being happy. I noticed I smiled in every pics taken. Proof? Facebook it, peeps!!

I guess I am taking yet another step in life where nothing is dependent on how cool, how great, how impressive we are trying to be. I kinda see this as yet another portion of 'maturity'. The whole evening stay in booze to a 'saturday night fever' dance moves on the dancefloor to a rave beat. I guess when you get older, you start to realize that life is not really about wearing the best brand, striking the best moves on the dancefloor or trying to impress others with what you're really good at in conversations. I think a good time is all about sharing. As much as I don't know about marriage or pregnancies, I learned a lot of things from the conversations we had and as much as my friends don't really know the dance moves like I do, I feel the same level of happiness from them on the dancefloor. I guess this kinda shows my age and I'm glad I'm acting it. In fact, I'm more pleased that I'm quite very comfortable and happy about my age. Hi, my name is Hein and I'm 28 years old and I can show you how you could still have fun at 28.