A quick belated post today as I'm knackered. Not only to my muscles ache from lugging my possessions into position in the new house but I went dancing...in a nightclub! Now I'm not keen on those places as a rule and I'm not going to change my mind anytime soon. But sometimes you have to go with the majority decision. I thought that it was time for bed after a nice evening out after having a few beers and a pizza. My chums on a leaving do had other ideas. I think I finally fell asleep on Little Wren's couch at about 3am whilst she prepared herself a fish finger sandwich in her kitchen!
I've established why I'm not so keen on clubbing although I did have a laugh last night. Aside from the expensive drinks, sleazy environment and having to pay to park your coat for goodness sakes, it's so often akin to rutting. Not one but two blokes who were way younger than me thought that it was entirely acceptable to grind their buttocks into my groin area without so much as an if you please. After I'd resisted the attentions of the second he attempted what must have been a tried and tested tactic on another female of the species and blimey, it worked! She was snogging him within five seconds. Maybe my concepts of romantic engagement are outdated. Give me dancing in a field instead anyday.
Anyway I've gone off track as usual. There was a lovely space scientist called Monica Grady on Desert Island Discs this week. She spoke with such enthusiasm and excitement about her work. I like to hear other people who're passionate like me about what they do workwise even if it is in an entirely different field to my own. I've just watched her enthusiastic response to the landing of the Philae probe on the Rosetta Comet and it's lovely. She played a Meatloaf song and it reminded me that I haven't posed a particular question. What is the THAT that the big man won't do for love in this song. I've debated it many times with friends and haven't come up with a definitive answer.