Single in L.A.

Last night the girls decided to do dinner and dancing. First stop: BLD (review of BLD in tomorrow’s Singular Opinion Feature) for dinner and drinks then off to The Honey Collective party at Teddy’s at the Hollywood Roosevelt. Now, being that it’s a holiday week and there are tons of parties around town I initially thought I might club it up every night this week.

But I’ve come to a realization: I’m getting old! DJ Rashida is known for spinning great dance music so Kendra, Giselle, Liza and I were all set to “dance the night away.’

Well, we headed over there at about 11. A few “entertainer” (Raheem Devaughn, Farnsworth Bentley and Will.I.Am – or his evil twin) sightings and one more round of drinks later we were all shits and giggles and dancing like it was 1999. But it’s not 1999. It’s 2008, we’re 9 years older, and our bodies know it.

Liza was the first to fizzle as she decided to lean her two step up against a pole and just sway. After doing the take-a-break-from-dancing and quick club walk through (you know, just to see and be seen) we ended up in the VIP amongst some of the most comfy, irresistible father’s library leather sofas ever. Liza and Kendra gave in but Giselle and I pressed on. But I was rapidly losing the good fight. As if in slow motion, my gyrating slowed down to a mere hand wave back and forth. I simply couldn’t go on. I tried, but just couldn’t. However, Giselle seemed to have gotten this radical burst of energy. She was the last diva dancing. Ironic too, because earlier that day as we chatted over IM she lamented that she knew she was too old to try and dance the night away, and might have to call it a night after dinner. Surrrreee. It was all a ploy.

Sad. But, in my defense, 4 inch heels, 2 hours of dancing and being just shy of 30 is NOT a good combination. Ladies, take heed. Learn from my mistakes.You may look young, but Mother Nature knows better.

So while you think of the good old days when you actually had to be put out of the club, enjoy my Boogie Nights throwback.