December is truly upon us: the wind’s bitter cold, there’s decorations galore, fancy frocks are in the windows, party invitations are doing the rounds and the Easter Eggs are in the shops. Actually, the latter may not be true 🙂
Just as sports folk like the early summer months – or so it seems – so the early winter season is truly transtastic. Cosy clothes, warm boots and of course, the cherry on the top of it all: the party season. Outfits are glam and heels are high. All good stuff.
To add to all this, at least for yours truly here, is the chance for a dance. (Ed: ooo, unexpected sh** poetry). As a kid I was pretty shy and retiring, but in my teens I discovered night clubs and that was the end of the wallflower behaviour. Once I hear a tune I like, I’m gone. I’ve no doubt I’ll become – if I’m not already – the embarrassing Dad at a family disco. Okay, not quite, I can reel myself in when I have to, but the urge to want to dance is pretty strong.
So you can imagine the so build of delight at the thought of a night out (Chams Xmas Do!) with good friends and the clear and present danger of sore feet from dancing until I’m out of breath.
Okay, while it’s not going to be anything like a superclub – as far as I know – it’s enough for me. Let’s just hope it doesn’t go all ‘Pete Tong’ 🙂 (Ed: that’s “wrong” for our overseas readers).
[ Today’s lyric: Welcome to the Terrordome by Public Enemy ]