At De La Soul, I'm relieved I didn't spit on a tissue and start cleaning faces

Five days you work
One whole day to play
Come on everybody
Wear your roller skates today

On occasion, I like to venture out beyond the nest (and even *gasp* beyond Newtown’s cafes).

Getting out doesn’t need to take on the scale of my pilgrimage to Splendour in the Grass in Byron Bay last year. For instance, a 10 minutes trip from my home to the Metro to catch the 20th Anniversary Show of hip hop mainstays, De La Soul, did the trick just fine.

Those not completely familiar with De La Soul - such as my lovely cohort for the evening, the always-up-for-a dope time, Ms Mel (aka Mel La De) - fear not. You may recognise the sounds of De La Soul by well known ditties as Ring Ring Ring (the answering machine song) and a feature appearance in Gorrillaz, Feel Good Inc.

I’m not especially a big hip hop head, but I know what I like and I think De La Soul is sublime. Gorgeous jazzy rap with genius sampling (they even worked the Grease Theme Song into one of their more legendary numbers). And easy to dance to. Not just in the club, they’re also mighty easy to enjoy when you’re at home getting on down with your own bad self while dusting the furniture.

Thankfully, the other night, I wasn’t dusting the furniture. I was dusted by Selecta. I was Me; not Mum. I was out having a blast and just the same person I was used to be before the Big Mellow.

Or was I? ...

Certain conversations throughout the evening hinted that my fancy-free fly-ness has become somewhat questionable. For example:

Ms Mel: What time does the show start?
Security: 10pm
(NB: it actually started around 10.30)
Me: God! I wonder what time it finishes?! It’s Monday night! I’ve got the school run tomorrow.

Or what about this one:

Ms Mel: we might not have any drugs but I’m feeling pretty stoned from passive smoking!
Me: The smell of weed is pretty strong isn’t it? ... So, is the smell of BO!
Ms Mel: And dirty clothes! It’s like the people immediately surrounding us pulled together their outfits by picking up clothes that had been sitting on their floors unwashed for months.
Me: I know! Yuck!

That said, I’m not trippin’. It really was a lovely crowd; the peeps were holla-ing music-lovin' funsters. And Dog, did those mo-fos get off on hip hop?! The bouncing; the yo!s; the sneakers ... At one point thought I was in a (mostly) white, Aussie version of 8 Mile. And make no mistake; Ms Mel was clearly Brittney Murphy while I was playing the part of Kim Bassinger’s character (i.e. Eminem’s mum). Either her or Kath Day-Knight.

But enjoy ourselves we did, and after kickin' it - the singing, the dancing and the altogther phat night, on the stroke of midnight we dragged our exhausted old arses back to our respective homes. Upon arriving home I was faced with a child whose bed and PJs were wet and both needed re-dressing. Then, I took off my make-up, brushed and flossed, turned on the dishwasher and set the alarm for 6am.

But that's not wack, ‘cos that’s just me. Too.

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