More on our ballroom dancing classes. Decided to wear my own pair of strappy heels – twice – even with the knowledge that I’d be constantly moving for over two hours each time. My feet were screaming indignities by the end of the night but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Heels make your calf muscles look so damn good.

I have been making a conscious effort to remember the names of as many guys as possible – or at least the hot ones anyway … it is really nice when the hot/sweet ones (mmm, hot and sweet chilli sauce) remember your name! And then you feel really guilty because you’ve managed to forget theirs. Ten minutes later. By now I think all the ones I know are all the ones I am going to get to know. The rest have basically given up trying to remember who everyone is. J and I have decided that we basically know all the interesting ones and the plain ones we vowed to remember because they knew our names and the reason we don’t remember the others is that they’re the loserish ones…

And the alarming thought struck me that that theory applied to the guys as well and I started panicking until I realised most of them knew who I was anyway. So hopefully they’re not remembering me as one of the ugly chicks but the other way round (though there’s enough of the former for me not to get short-listed if you’ll excuse me for being catty).

Hot Wog scares me. I mean I can understand why he would appeal a lot to certain girls (J… aHEM) but he is just totally not my type. I thought otherwise at first, but he’s stopped talking to me so I changed my mind. Another disappointment would have to be R, Mediterranean looks and hot with a capital H, but alas, he’s pretty much ignoring me too. Ah well, plenty more fish in the sea, or otherwise plenty more hotties at dancing …

I was dancing with one of the not so hot guys and all of a sudden his mother pops up with a camera and urges us to ‘get closer’ and she takes like three photos. Complete and utter mortification! I’m going to like, end up in some dusty photo album looking like a complete nong: “Oh look, here’s Jimmy and his partner from ballroom dancing that time!” and then there was the time I was dancing with this other dude and suddenly he winks at me really sleazily as he’s about to twirl me around and I’m like ahahaha … oookay, and it was just so creepy!

Uh oh. Have I been twitching again?

I think M might kinda like me. I was talking to A, another guy, and he’s like see M over there? I think he likes you. A seems pretty perceptive or at least truthful (one of the starry-eyed chicks was totally all over Peter every opportunity she got and he did decide to state the obvious to her so hey, at least he was right that time) and I suspected as much but for someone with my level of self-esteem (currently at battered and struggling to nurse it back to life) confirmation is always a good thing! Too bad he’s not my type of guy.

What I’m really disappointed with is that I haven’t been asked for a phone number yet. Granted I’m not just going to give it out to anyone, but an offer would’ve been nice. Even if it wasn’t from one of the really hot ones. Some of the other girls got asked for theirs. I mean come on; don’t I get kudos for being a ‘hot Oriental woman’?? Well maybe not exactly, but you get my drift…

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