It's official. I have Dirty Dancing fever.
It's been years since I last watched it. It's been years since I boogied around the house to the brilliant soundtrack. It's been years since I took my laminated picture of Patrick Swayze and had a tea party with him (true story).
The first time I watched it I was nine and I felt so grown up! I staged my first sleepover with some friends. We loved the dancing. We loved the story and most of all it started my lifelong devotion to the Swayze. The Swayze is like.... God. I fell in love with my first boyfriend when we were washing purple dye out of his hair over the bath and I could see the Swayze-like muscles in the golden skin of his back. He looked up and caught the gleam in my eye and it was then I noticed they also had the same lips, which I later donned as his 'Swayze's'. I'm getting excited just thinking about it. In fact, the more I looked at Swayze last night, I realised that he was present in most of the boys I have fallen in love with. Rob Roy? They have the same square jawline. FACT.
My neighbours are close to calling the police. I recently bought a set of speakers and the music has not stopped pumping at full blast since. I'm not as supple as I used to be but that hasn't stopped me swinging around the house like a hungry monkey after a banana. I won't be arrested for the volume. I won't be arrested for the singing. It will be for my dance moves. If only Swayze could have been my teacher...