Dance the dance

I was out last night on my first girl’s night out in Sydney. A girl that I know through a friend in London invited me out with her girlfriends for a girly night out. It was really nice, it was great to see that girl group going out procedures are the same no matter where you are in the world…

It starts with consumption of large amounts of wine/champagne, comments on fab outfits and then once the wine has taken effect talk about boys. It’s something I have missed as many other events I have attended here has been more a case of consuming reasonable amount of wine and then hours of conversations about children’s faeces.

During the night I got to dance in a fancy looking club with the hundreds of beautiful people standing around looking beautiful not interaction with others. It seems that most of the male population in Kings Cross do a huge amount of push ups and then wear their shirt open to half their chest to show the results of the push ups. I am not complaining at all, I merely commenting. This place was full to the brim with really attractive men and women, I felt very short, quite ugly and badly dressed; but that was ok. Because I was dancing, so when I’m dancing I don’t think about that kind of thing so much.

But I do think next time when I go out, I don’t need to bring an extra scarf and cardigan in case I get cold, you know, because I’m not really 70 years old yet, even thought I seem to behave like it. Now I’m going to get myself a nice cup of tea before I go to Sydney bead and gem show.