In the mood for ballroom dancing

Only in my head, of course. Outside of my head I am an impressive klutz who trips over her own feet. I am listening to "Emperor's Waltz" by Strauss as I rip classical music into my green Vaio baby.

These couple of days I have been stuck in a spiral of writer's block, as I have found out that the ability to blog in the bathroom does not equate the ability to spurn eloquent academic writing. The government is not helping by its zeal of curbing "cyber crimes" and showing remarkable efficiency in arresting bloggers by the droves. Not showing any consideration for poor old me perched on the bowl, trying to figure out the difference between "detention" and "arrest" and "abduction".

Anyway as I was saying, ballroom dancing, and I have in my head a glorious room aglow with merry laughter, twirling skirts and clinking champagne glasses. A dazzling chandelier above, squeaky parquette floors beneath.

I can't wait to be off to New Zealand. Not that that has anything to do with ballroom dancing.