Moody Meow

Liberal, lunatic lassie, with mood swings and foot-in-mouth syndrome

Dancing Queens

Posted on | August 11, 2008 | No Comments

Friday was fantastic. Miss Amandapants invited us out for dinner and dancing. Now, I loves to dance. I can shake my groove thing with the best of the them, but we haven’t been out dancing in eons. Going to the booty club with my sister doesn’t count. Well, it does a little. I danced to “Groove is the the Heart,” that night, but not to much else. And I think I got too drunk ( I know …shocker! ) but we had a good time. But dancing on Friday night was to my kind of music with my kind of crowd. But, let me start with dinner.

We ate at a Morracan restraunt called Marakesh. Walking into the place, you are transported to a foreign land where sitting on the floor looks comfy and pillows are actually chairs. The server escorted us through groups of very jovial diners and full tables. We had to watch our feet so we didn’t step on anyone, and because the carpets were quite pretty. The table we sat at backed against a ginormous table of very loud patrons. But they seemed happy. The menu dumbfounded me, but that’s because I’m too used to American pricing. We were going to pay 18.50 per person for a 5 course meal. Then she offered mango mimosas…..mmmmm. I had 2. The meal started with a bean soup, thick with tomatoes and spices. I even ate the chickpeas. Next was the “salad.” On a huge plate they brought out a pile of babaganoush surrounded by a tomato-cucumber “salad.” It seemed more like a salsa fresca with different flavors. All in all, it was delish. We ate it with anise-spiced bread. Then came the crack. The B’stilla – I would like to go there just for 14 or 15 of these devilishly-delish pastries. D and I shared the vegetarian option, which was stuffed with spiced egg and potato, raisins, almond, and green onions, baked into a phyllo dough and dusted with powdered sugar. There was a touch of sweetness with the sugar, but it didn’t overwhelm the savory pastry. Finally, the main dinner arrived. I ordered roasted veggies with saffron rice. Honestly, it was the most underwhelming part of the meal for me. While the veggies were roasted perfectly, the rice tasted a little bland and the vegetables overpowered it. D ordered the Breka, a much better selection. At the end of the meal they sprinkled our hands with rose water and served sweet (very) mint/green tea and a chopped fruit salad. The meal was outstanding and very very affordable. It’s one of those dinners that is more of an experience than just a meal. Prior to the restraunt getting VERY full (it ended up packed to the gills), a belly dancer provided the diners with a nice show. It made D happy.

Miss Amanda invited a friend, J, to come to dinner with us. We had a blast talking, laughing, ribbing each other and Amanda. It felt great to meet someone else from Portland, and she was born and raised here. I know Portland natives are a rare species (kind of like Florida natives).

Now, I forgot the name of the club, but it was deep downtown. They had 80′s night, and thankfully it was 21 and up. As we tromped up the 3 flights of stairs, I feared for myself if I got too intoxicated. I joke about “drunk tests” all the time, but I can only imagine the number of people who had stumbled down the stairs to a painful end. The corridor going up to the club narrowed as we walked in. The place was very small, with one bar, 3 bathrooms, a few chairs and couches and a nice big stage and dance floor. Who needs a lot of room for the wall flowers if there is enough room to dance?

We got there VERY early, so we got to watch the regulars stake their space on certain sections of the dance floor. I forgot about the stereotypes you see at clubs: the guy who has been going since the beginning, the DJ’s attention-hungry girlfriend, the older couple who dances together and doesn’t give a shit, the awkward boy dragged into the dancing against his will, the air-humpers…. it’s funny. You can change cities but there are the same types of people who go to clubs all around the country.

I danced… a lot. And it was great watching Miss Amandapant’s face, the shock and surprise, when D started to dance. Dude, my man has rhythm, but he will kick you so get out of the way. The one thing that surprised me ? I didn’t really want to smoke. I worked my ass off…the best kind of workout in my mind. And now I remember why I was so skinny in my early 20′s – I danced ALL THE TIME (oh…and I didn’t eat much and the drugs helped….. but I’m just sayin’). We had so much fun. I observed the following:

  • A girl in a faux-hawk dancing to Billy Ocean’s “Get out of My dreams”
  • the floor cleared when the DJ played “So Alive”…my huge WTF moment of the evening
  • Tiffany and Bauhaus on the same night?
  • Female cockblocking – women can be total passive aggressive douches when they like someone
  • the wandering cock of a lonely male
  • how bad some people dance

And I want to go out and dance again this Friday! But the The Clone Wars comes out on Friday, and I want to see it. :)

Category: Happiness, Portland stuff

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