commonpeople1 | There's a Panda Bear in All of Us

There's nothing stranger than being in a circle on the dancefloor, with LJ friends, dancing to your LJ username. I found myself in that position last night when Pulp's "Commonpeople" came on; I caught myself half-way through the song singing along as if I was performing a ritual. We were all into the swing of things by that stage, thanks to a Popstarz that never got full, and which gave us plenty of space to do fancy dance moves to The Cure, Depeche Mode, Kaiser Chiefs, The Killers, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and so forth.

Earlier, I met the LJ Gang at a pub near King's Cross. I brought along three brasilians, but only one of them chose to continue on to the club. I think the rain, plus Friday blues, kept a lot of people indoors - which sadly affected the club itself and made me wonder if Popstarz is heading for the same cemetery as B-Movie. I hope not! I got to meet new people as well as get sweaty with old acquaintances now on the fast track to good friends status. I even learned something about panda bears from

bluehelen, who is probably the only person in London who likes Suede more than I do.

amberholic, who'd been threatening all week not to attend, downed a bottle of champagne at home, covered himself with glitter and showed up with his side-kick Finch. He's the one who spotted the singer from Right Said Fred at the Indie Room, staring at our group on the dancefloor; he also generously bought me a tequila shot, which I hadn't done in years - thank you! When the LJ Gang left, around 1 p.m. or so (I think?), my brasilian side-kick and I joined the two glitter queens at the Cheesy Pop room. Tunes from early in the night got repeated - Whitney Houston, Girls Aloud, Spice Girls - but by then I was too drunk to care.

The clock hit 3 p.m. and suddenly all the single men in the club were desperate to hook up with someone. An Indian guy wrapped his arm around me and asked if I had a boyfriend; a drunk dancer sidled to my face with a cheeky grin, then got shoed away by

amberholic in full security guard mode; and an intense-looking short boy mistook my approving glance for interest. There were lots of cute boys, I thought, but also a very worrying trend of overstyled Emo kids who wouldn't dance or show any enthusiasm in fear of messing their haircut. I'm so glad I'm from a generation that enjoys jumping around!

Must. Go. Clubbing. More. Often.