Balls

Went a bit quiet there for a wee while, sorry. Week pretty uneventful. Realised I had a black tie ball to go to on Saturday, which doesn't happen to me very often. I have one outfit suitable for a black tie affair but I got it when I was at my heaviest and it is a size 22. I tried it on anyway and it fell off. Sigh. (It cost a fortune and I wore it once. I really liked it and it was flattering and now I can't bring myself to throw it out even though I never want to allow myself to get to that size again. Do you know anyone who would like it? Seriously, let me know.)

So, had to go shopping which I (a) am bad at and (b) hate. Eventually got frock on Friday afternoon (last minute as always) Actually quite enjoyed parts of the experience as it is such a novelty being able to look for clothes I like rather than starting from "What have they got that might fit". Giggled to myself like a loon when size 14 dresses zipped up.

I ended up paying more than I wanted to but at least I like the dress I got enough that I will wear it again. And I found it and picked it all by myself. Am almost a grown up. Also a girl. Who knew?

Friend at work tried to persuade me to wear said frock with black feather boa. Responded with my best withering stare. Same response to the offer of long black evening gloves. I may be turning into a girl, but I am a long, long way from being able to carry off that sort of malarkey.

Ball was perfectly nice. I reckon I was older than about 80% of the attendees - I spent a bit of time mentally noting the girls who were going to have trouble keeping their dresses under control once the dancing started - but our table was very nice. Good chat, nice food and plenty of wine. Also small bottles of soft "detox" type drinks on the table. 3 different kinds, all sampled and all declared "umm......weird" by everyone. I don't know about you, but when thirsty I have never ever thought "You know, what I really fancy is a drink containing Siberian ginseng and globe artichoke". And I promise, I made up neither of those ingredients.

I saw one older lady at the ball wearing the one other dress I tried on and swithered about but rejected. So......phew. Although I am told the cool thing to do when you do see someone else wearing the same outfit as you is to march straight up and compliment them on having the best taste in the room. Or you could just hide in the toilets till it's time to go home.

Husband was happy because the band for the second half of the night (after the ceileidh. No I did not dance. In those shoes? Are you mad?) was doing cover versions and did "Play that funky music, white boy" which is one of his favourite songs for some reason. Along with "Word Up" by Cameo. He is strange.

Home just after midnight. Unscathed and, thanks to the smoking ban, unkippered. It makes such a difference these days coming home from a social event and not feeling the need to jump in the shower to wash the smell of smoke out of your hair and then soak your clothes in Febreze for a week.

And look, a whole post from me with no exclamation marks. Next time: no brackets (I don't think)