As I stepped into Bishopsgate Institute's Ballroom, I realise I hadn't been here in probably 18 months. Not since before surgery and probably a while before then too. The lighting's different, as is the set-up. In fact it's all different, but lovely and atmospheric. And more importantly, it's a dance floor and I have my feet on it.
For four hours we whisked and weaved our way around the floor; we jived and rumba'd; we sweated and laughed. By the end of the night we could barely walk, but it was all worth it.
I’m lying on my back in my living room, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out if I’m ok or injured – nano-seconds earlier I was stood in my kitchen. What. A. Twat! What an utter twat!
I’d been practicing my rumba turns to try and sharpen them up – my rope spin, is at times ropey, so you know socks, shiny floor, great music why wouldn’t you … fucking disaster!
… I manage to keep the 360° turn tight and start to settle and … lose my balance, unable to unwrap my feet, I reach out to try and steady myself, but find nothing but air, falling through the doorway to the living room, scraping my tit on the doorframe on the way, akin to Del Boy falling through the bar.
So here I lie prostrate on the floor with bruised and scraped tit.
We, and by we, I mean Nick, spotted a boat named Verity passing by just outside their flat… I didn’t notice for about 30 seconds it had my name…!
I had to have my photo taken for work today – the best picture of all the half-a-gazillion that we took was this one, which was me essentially dicking around [technical term] after too many too close / wrong side / skew-eyed attempts. The viewing software on my machine at work had a few filters and, as you do, I clicked through them and loved this Burlesque one. But alas I’m not allowed to use this picture at work, as well you know “serious” required.
Today I competed in my first dance competition, ballroom at that, not Latin, which is what I’ve been focussing on more over the very short two years I’ve been dancing.
My dance teacher has put me straight in at Silver Medal level despite having not done that medal test, nor indeed Continue reading My First Ballroom Competition
I booked last minute tickets to see The Pirates of Penzance at The Coliseum. As children we listened to the music over and over again ~ I’m not even sure why, or whether it was mum or dad who played it, but for whatever reasons, I know, and take delight (great delight) in reciting (tarantara tarantara) some of the lyrics Continue reading The Pirates of Penzance
The kitchen at work, has been turned green in honour of St Patrick’s Day… there’s Guinness; leprechaun hats and a whole host of green food too. Great craic !