Vegas

Cleaning out a computer is similar to cleaning a room. You find stuff you forgot you had and wonder why on earth you kept it. Then you're compelled to go over it all, revisit each document in an effort to work out why it's there. It's where nostalgia and bewilderment meet. The old essays and notes I understand. As late as they may have been, most of them took too much effort to relegate to the waste bin. And they don't take up too much space. But an old folder of awful net jokes forwarded around in the late nineties? My reasons for keeping that are lost, and so it gets binned. None of them were that funny in the first place and several are still doing the rounds. In great supply are various mission statements and life schedules. All carry the same sort of rubbish: ideas on how to get my life in order, diet plans, exercise plans, life goals et al. There are even check lists - with all boxes unticked. The language is earnest but uncomprehending and the long-needed changes came later and without ticking any boxes or writing any lists.

Amidst these odd documents I did find something quite wonderful; an anonymous quote that did me far more good than any list:

Work like you don't need money,
Love like you've never been hurt,
And dance like no one's watching.

I don't know where I got it, whether it was sent to me or whether I found it online or not, but I'm glad I found it.

Last night Kirsty phoned up and asked if I wanted a free ticket to Vegas. I didn't know what she was talking about, and assumed she meant Nevada. She did not. Vegas is a roaming club, an event celebrating the halcyon days of big bands, sharp dressing and stunning women. I love big band swing and jazz. It makes me dance like no one's watching. And last night in Ocean Terminal we all boogied to the classics and delighted in brilliantly 'swingified' versions of Sweet Caroline and Wonderwall. People made an effort, with costumes ranging from Playboy bunnies to Hunter S Thompson is Fear & Loathing. Most of the guys looked like they got thrown out of the Rat Pack and the girls looked great and loved looking great. Everyone got into it - a thousand people turning a shopping centre in Leith into Vegas circa 1962. It was glitzy, ridiculous and brilliant. The ages ranged from 20 to 70 and they all just had a blast. We danced until 3am, and when the music finished it was 2006 again. The buses were scarce and the taxi driver home droned on about the miracles of the Atkins diet.

The extra hour came in handy this morning.

Today I had the finest hollandaise sauce ever. This evening? Well, this evening I have to work like I don't need the money.