On the up: Going retro
On the down: The distinct lack of social skills

After toiling (blood sweat tears) over the final edits for a book (well okay, it wasn't that much work) I decided that it was Very Important that I go out to play.

Ben was idling on MSN so I insisted we go out. So nice to have all these lovely friends to layan me stomping up and down with my demands.

He said we should go to Zouk.

So I panicked. I'm Never Ever glamourous or thin enough to go to Velvet. And I haven't been there for, like, ever so am very, very unprepared for what's cool, what's hot and what's not. And my hair is growing out so it looks like a Wig-Gone-Wrong. I am SO not Velvet-Zouk material.

But okay, never mind. We went.

They wouldn't let Ben in the door because he wasn't wearing sleeves. Like gee, want to show off biceps also cannot.

But Organised Ben had a tshirt in his car so we trekked back to the dodgy carpark to go change. Getting rejected from a club - how glamourous! I love it when things are tacky like that. And what d'you know, Ben looked hotter in the tshirt than in the Other Thing anyway. (I am such a sucker for unironed shirts - it looks so ruffled and Indie Boy)

It was Mambo Jambo night, which I have been trying to avoid Like The Plague since Forever. Like, 80s music, ewwww. And old ugly men, Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

But they had these fantastic pink heart-shaped helium balloons everywhere which made me like it a little bit happier. I took two with me when I left, and then forgot to take them home so now Ben has to drive around with two heart-shaped balloons in his back seat. That, or feed them to his manic dog who keeps chewing up his apartment.

Also, there is vodka of course, which makes a Dolly very happy.... enough to dance to Wham and Rick Astley and the Jason Donavan anyway and made me feel like a young girl of 8 again! Oh my god what is happening to me.

Seriously.

I need to get out more.

Afterwards, just to be real Retro, we went to A&W for rootbeer floats. No more drive through thing though - you actually have to get out of your damn car and order from the counter now. Cheh. So we sat on the bar tops instead and tried to pretend that it was 1963.

And now, after all that retro overdose, I feel very old indeed.