What's my label?

Who am I?

If you had to attach one of those nifty labels to me, what would it be? You know the ones - the ones where you take one look at someone and think you have them figured out. The labels seem to be ever more abundant everyday. Can you be more than one thing? Some days I feel like a big hippie (all I wanan do is dance barefoot in the rain). Some days I feel a bit more rock 'n roll (today the only things in the mall that appealled to me were black, leather or studded). Some days I know I have that hipster thing going on... although I am far too old, can someone my age really be hip? My politics don't really help, nor my taste in books, movies, clothes... I am all over the map. Does that make me well-rounded or just indecisive?

It's only a slight identity crisis. Probably brought on by the fog of this damn headcold/allergy thing I can't seem to shake.

I'll get over it.

Soundtrack of my previous life

I put in the CD absentmindedly, just looking for some accompaniment to my cleaning and purging of the junk in my apartment. Ironic I guess, that as I purged pieces of my past, my choice of music brought vivid memories of some of my happiest times.

I remember so vividly the men in suits and the ladies dressed to the nines coming out to dance - for this was true dancing music; real dancing, dancing with partners in perfect sweaty joy. Swing. Jump blues. For a moment in my life that's what it was all about. I remember the five of them on stage in their suits with their hair just right - pompadours the perfect height. I remember the basslines and the drum solos and the way his smooth voice made it all so very sexy. I remember getting caught in an elevator. I remember maritinis. I remember.

God we had fun.
How could I have forgotten?