Dancing Queen

Ok, so last night I went to the British Community Association's Holiday Ball. I had a dress made (which I will wear again next week at my school's winter party), got ready in about 30 minutes post-hash (haring a run then attempting to run was not a good pre-party ritual), and wore shoes I couldn't walk in (which I of course kicked off once seated at the table). I went expecting to enjoy myself, but not anticipating staying until almost 3am! It was a blast thanks to my friends who were there: Yvette, Nicola, Julie, Keith, Ken, Ken's wife, Krista, Luc...

The funniest part of the evening was during the band's second set. There was an announcement of a last-minute raffle prize of a custom-made ball gown to be awarded to the woman with the best moves on the dance floor during that set (about an hour or longer). Well, I won. No clue how. For those of you who know me, you do know that I am the most self-conscious dancer out there. I have no rhythm or moves. But apparently, I was better than the other ladies on the dance floor.

Since it was judged by a bloke, I'm considering factors that might have influenced his decision:

1. I was wearing a low cut dress and jumped up and down to a few songs.
2. I did a lovely dirty dancing impersonation with a guy in a kilt.
3. I did some hip shimmies with my friend Yvette.
4. I was right in front of the judge.

And contrary to popular opinion, I did not bribe the judge!