Oh damn, that was fun. I haven't had a proper night out in so long. I mean a night out of my preferred ilk, with a danceflor with space to move on it, and music I actually want to dance to. A lot of the regular gothers weren't there, including all the ones I actually wanted to catch up with, but there were a heap of my fellow residents, which was a pleasant surprise.

And I danced. I danced for an hour straight after I arrived, when I was sure the DJ was trying to kill me by playing fantastic song after fantastic song. I danced in the seventies punk set in the middle stages, when I declared: "Soon they'll play the Sex Pistols, and it's just all down hill from there" and two songs later, it was Anarchy in the UK. And I danced when things started to get loud and funky again at the end. I danced to Faith No More. I danced to Nine Inch Nails. I danced to The Cure.

I got to meet Jem. We danced to Aphex Twin and VAST. He is cool.

I had a great time.

There were three random pick-up attempts. Well, two and a half. One was mostly harmless.

My knees are killing me. Maybe it's time I just admitted I'm getting old and stopped prancing about the dancefloor like a squirrel on speed.