It's been eons. I apologise.
Life got filled up. With attention-seeking cats, long-distance survival, meeting deadlines, planning holidays and daaaaancing. Yes, I'm back baby, after a year and a half of these feckless and dysfunctional things they call knees. However, in my mind's eye, I saw myself leaping gracefully across the studio and acing the routine first time. But this complete co-ord had totally forgotten how to learn a routine, let alone repeat one. And I watched myself bumble and flounder about the dance floor in the mirror, until I felt a strong and particularly painful pull under my ass cheek, which rendered me immobile for a week. So much for my star comeback. Pathetic.
Anyway, as the weeks have passed, I'm getting there. At least I thought that until yesterday I almost knocked someone unconscious with my totally-out-of-line axis leap. My fellow dancers are all learning now... to leave me enough space to perform a sequence of flick flacks and host a small gathering.
So there was this night. A couple of weekends ago. I hadn't been out in a while. You know those nights where you just know. Something great is going to happen. Whether it turns out to be a 5 o'clocker at some crusty Eighties club (which is how my night panned out), someone face plants, your best friend goes home with a seedy foreigner, or you meet an international celebrity (not a local one, because there is seriously nothing less riveting)... You just know that 'tonight is the night'. I slipped on my full-sequin gold dress and arrived at the 30th shimmering like a disco ball in the evening sun. I strategically placed myself next to the Champagne-pouring table during the speeches and befriended the rather fetching 'pourer' – fetching because he promised to 'fetch' me first with each new bottle he opened.
There's no need to tell you that the night took a turn for the… fantastic!! And me and the Pop (featured above) share brilliant flashbacks of a pole-dance sweat-inducing performance to 'Summer Lovin' on the Deco 'stage' at around 4am. Hot stuff? This was sweltering stuff! Literally. Realised I'd shed my make-up, the day's hydration and any leftover dignity on the dance floor, so we escorted ourselves out.
So that was a goodie. But the following day consisted of me trying to hold a mildly coherent conversation at a brunch – I was about as engaging as a dish towel – and then napping through Les Mis due to my lack of siesta.
We have just booked flights to Zambia for Easter. Another big family holiday planned by The Mother. She is far too excited.
Mother: Darling!
Olive: Mother...
Mother: I'm SO excited. It's going to be so wonderful. The animals, the Zambezi, the Vic Falls, the boat rides...
Olive: ...the Gin & Tonics!
Mother: Is that all you think about?
Olive: Gin-erally!
Mother: Well I've booked us a cruise on the Chobe.
Olive: What Chobe doin' over there?
Mother: Really?
Olive: Sorry.
Mother: And we can have lunch at the Livingstone...
Olive: ...I presume.
Mother: I'm hanging up now.
Anyhooos stay tuned! Exciting things in the works!
Anyway, as the weeks have passed, I'm getting there. At least I thought that until yesterday I almost knocked someone unconscious with my totally-out-of-line axis leap. My fellow dancers are all learning now... to leave me enough space to perform a sequence of flick flacks and host a small gathering.
So there was this night. A couple of weekends ago. I hadn't been out in a while. You know those nights where you just know. Something great is going to happen. Whether it turns out to be a 5 o'clocker at some crusty Eighties club (which is how my night panned out), someone face plants, your best friend goes home with a seedy foreigner, or you meet an international celebrity (not a local one, because there is seriously nothing less riveting)... You just know that 'tonight is the night'. I slipped on my full-sequin gold dress and arrived at the 30th shimmering like a disco ball in the evening sun. I strategically placed myself next to the Champagne-pouring table during the speeches and befriended the rather fetching 'pourer' – fetching because he promised to 'fetch' me first with each new bottle he opened.There's no need to tell you that the night took a turn for the… fantastic!! And me and the Pop (featured above) share brilliant flashbacks of a pole-dance sweat-inducing performance to 'Summer Lovin' on the Deco 'stage' at around 4am. Hot stuff? This was sweltering stuff! Literally. Realised I'd shed my make-up, the day's hydration and any leftover dignity on the dance floor, so we escorted ourselves out.
So that was a goodie. But the following day consisted of me trying to hold a mildly coherent conversation at a brunch – I was about as engaging as a dish towel – and then napping through Les Mis due to my lack of siesta.
We have just booked flights to Zambia for Easter. Another big family holiday planned by The Mother. She is far too excited.
Mother: Darling!
Olive: Mother...
Mother: I'm SO excited. It's going to be so wonderful. The animals, the Zambezi, the Vic Falls, the boat rides...
Olive: ...the Gin & Tonics!
Mother: Is that all you think about?
Olive: Gin-erally!
Mother: Well I've booked us a cruise on the Chobe.
Olive: What Chobe doin' over there?
Mother: Really?
Olive: Sorry.
Mother: And we can have lunch at the Livingstone...
Olive: ...I presume.
Mother: I'm hanging up now.
Anyhooos stay tuned! Exciting things in the works!
