Saturday, December 02, 2006


Going to Balls and Decking the Halls

Last night’s Civic Ball was a hugely enjoyable evening. Where else of a Friday night do you get accidentally barged into by an MP’s buttocks? Where else can you have a bottle of free wine mysteriously turn up at your table when everyone else has had to pay for theirs’? And where else is there a higher concentration of Mayors than ladies’ night at a stud farm (that joke doesn’t really work written down, does it?)?

Nowhere, is the answer. So last night was great. The Lib Dems had a couple of tables, and we ate and drank our way through the proceedings. I discovered a number of startling things last night. First, I was horrified at the amount of food I can cram into my gob, given the opportunity. Second, Cllr Donal O’Hanlon is a spectacular dancer. The man is an unstoppable grooving machine, and I may get him to quick-step his way between houses next time we’re out delivering Focus. And third, the lead singer of the band used to teach me music at school. Which was a bit disturbing because in the fifteen years since she appears to have got younger, whilst I have clearly not.

THe event also raised loads for the Mayor's charity appeal, which was great news. Although my terrible luck in raffles continues. Another ten tickets purchased last night. And following my abysmal performance at the Lib Dem quiz night and annual dinner raffles, once again I left empty handed.

Anyway, that was last night. Today I successfully negotiated the crowds in Manchester to do most of my Christmas shopping. Thanks to the good people at Hotel Chocolat, who enabled me to take care of most of my friends and relations with a variety of “slabs” of chocolate. Tonight we are putting up our tree and burying the presents underneath it. There was an unfortunate incident in WHSmith when I emerged with four books, none of which were for anyone for Christmas, and all of which are for me. I didn’t want any of them when I left the house this morning, and yet I must have left my will power at the door of the shop because, oops, there they are in my bedroom now, waiting to be read…

Comments: Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?