There are few things more likely to raise my spirits than man in a frock and disco tunes.
Unfortunately the husband refuses to indulge this passion other than the day we wed, when he wore a skirt and we danced with, almost, gay abandon to Donna Summer. (Alright so technically he wore a kilt, but my point stands, since that day he has been fully trousered).
Tonight I went to see the stage show of 'Priscilla Queen of the Desert'. Buff men in skimpy, sequined numbers belting out mojo-lifting tunes such as "I Will Survive" and "Someone Left The Cake Out in The Rain," (I'm sure there is a metaphor in there somewhere).
And what better way to end the show than with a rousing chorus of "Finally It Has Happened To Me"?
It is my new mantra.
I've been singing it all the way home, which has the added benefit of ensuring I got a double seat to myself on the bus.
Mojo rating: 8 out of 10.
(Down two points because I am STILL waiting for my biopsy results, it'll be a month tomorrow since they took the bloody sample).