And much fun was had!

Friday night was great fun. I had a ball.

Many of you seemed to assume the 80s night meant the need to dress as if it were 1986. No no. Not that sort of night. Just a club where they happen to play older music.

I ended up wearing a knee length black shirt that has a little patch of embroidered flowers on the bottom corner, a black t-shirt, black stockings and heels and cute red shrug I bought at the last minute yesterday. Perhaps not the funkiest outfit, but after so many of you urged me to be comfortable and to be myself, I realised you were all completely right and promptly did as I was told. And black is good. You can't go wrong.

I stuffed myself stupid on a Greek feast (let's not discuss though the lamb mince thing that looked like a turd. Kinda hard to eat it after someone's let that out. Ok it was me. My fault!)

I drank vast amounts of wine but not so much that I went too far. Only one vodka drink that was bought for me at the club and that was it. And all the girls were lovely. A great mix of people (a musicologist who's been working in PNG on traditional music, for example. How do people end up with such interesting jobs?) and loads of laughter.

As for the dancing, well that went a little better than expected. The Casino apparently has its 80s night on a Saturday so we didn't go there but went instead to a place called Toast which also has something similar but which I suspsect is way cooler than the casino's version, just by virtue of it being a club and not a hang out for older people. We danced and sang ourselves hoarse and at one point I found myself debating, at the top of my lungs, whether a song which now escapes my early morning memory was a Poison or Guns n Roses song.

I swore Guns n Roses. I was wrong. Damn.

Stuff I would never listen to in million years, just because I'm no longer 17 more than anything else, seemed so cool at 1am. Lots of it was cool 80s and early 90s although some Blondie and Bee Gees stuff was slipped in, along with middle-era Madonna and some Faith No More. Now that I could cope with. I question the choice of Billy Joel's We Didn't Start The Fire. Groan. I was pleased to discover I no longer remembered the lyrics which at 17 seemed so important and deep.

And you know what? Dancing is fun. Most of the time I managed to ignore the little voice telling me I looked like a moron and just went with it. I think I needed that. But perhaps not again for a long time. I was home by 2am and sick by 3am. I don't know why. I didn't drink too much. I was verging on sober by the time I got home but was wrung out, buzzed and hoarse. Perhaps I'm just not up to it which is sad, because it was a great night.

And now it's the glorious weekend and I have socks to knit and vegetable seedlings to plant!

Have a good one everyone.