moves

How good is dancing? Every time I dance it's a mini-revelation. A step away from head-on-a-stick syndrome + a victory for feeling alive.

Last night Bez, Em + I went to Castro's - the new gay club down the road from my place. It was a hoot + about as much of an escape from patriotic hooliganism as we could expect to find in the Gong on Australia Day. Still plenty of flags, but the largest was draped over a stunningly long-legged drag queen. (When did Australia Day turn into Redneck Moron's Day anyway? I seem to have missed that transition point.) It was a funny mixed crowd, at least as many straight kids as gay kids, but at least it didn't feel like the usual Wollongong meat-market. I could happily have danced there all night I think. Washing the high cheeeeez factor + terrible house music down with vodka, lime + soda. Lord I love bad taste.

It's been a double dose, with my return to energy dance. Ah, serious food for the soul. Annalise is gorgeous. Dancing with her is such an amazing way for me to engage my body and feel connected - I love it. I could do it every day. And today Henry told me that I'm "graceful". Me. Graceful. Woo!