Just as I thought. I woke up Friday morning, out of my funk and ready to party. Hard. I must say, this weekend is at the top of my chart for the most fun had, the best time at a party, the ease and comfort with which it ended.

I didn�t even have a costume. 5 o�clock rolls around, Friday evening approaching rapidly, and I still had no costume! I walked around Hillcrest for a bit, into a store called Flashbacks, and found a wig. 18th century powdered woman�s wig, very Marie Antoinette. Alrighty, a Victorian woman I�ll be, or more like a Glenn Close from Dangerous Liasons meets a bawdy courtesan. My face and chest (oh yes, those dirty pillows too), were painted white (great stuff, looked and felt like powder, but doesn�t come off till you wash it). False lashes, red heart-shaped lips, a subtle brown mole, and a quarter-sized circle of rouge on each cheek. Without the wig, I looked like a mime (at least that�s what Cyrano said when he showed up at my place and I was all painted with a sock on my head). But with the wig and the outfit, people were able to get the picture, and it felt great.

Enough about how I looked. The party, the party! DJ by the pool, outside open bar, a lovely 3-story house completely decorated with hanging fabric, candles, oil-light projectors, and so much more! Everyone�s costumes were spectacular, effort went into them, and you could sense it in the air, how great people felt about their newly created selves. Careful now, that feeling is contagious. Too many people feeling too good can lead to too much fun. But luckily, I can handle too much fun.

The fire performance was riveting, enchanting. A beautiful man and a beautiful woman, chanting and dancing, the flying balls of fire, coordinated birds of light, reflecting in the black water of the pond-like lap pool in front of them. A hundred people silent on the other side of the pool, watching in childlike awe. Master Love joined the performance, dancing and twirling; whoever thought speed and accuracy could be so fluid? The fire, air and water worked well together for this show, and the crowd was stunned afterwards with appreciation before we all broke into applause. Spectacular.

Into the morning and still feeling fabulous, my wig had finally come off and I�d scrubbed my face clean. Last of the Mohicans, piled on a bed, sharing stories and laughing and fondling. The people who were left, those who made this moment magical, stayed at the house through most of the weekend with me. Lioness, the perfect hostess and her husband, Shiva. Or was that Gi-� ah, never mind. The adult Inspector Gadget� okay, I may have to explain this one. Have you ever seen the movie, Orgazmo? You remember the sidekick, Choda Boy? Well anyway, adult Inspector Gadget, at least that was his costume, came fully equipped, both like Choda Boy in the movie, and the inspector himself. Only on his hips and down his legs were not little gadgets, but dildos, feathers, massage wands and so much more. And covering his groin was a wicker cornucopia, blinking with blue L-wire. Someone better have gotten a photo of that for me. Cyrano as Tigger, furry costume and bouncy disposition, Fizgig, a cow. Moo, moo moo. Ganesh, in all his golden glory. And me, of course. Just a room full of wonderful people. LovelyL was in and out, giggling like a sea-nymph, which is what she reminded me of, all in blue.

Saturday came and went in a flash of color and the evening ended in epiphany. Lioness, Cyrano and I found the G-spot after many hours of diligent searching. Oh, not the spot that you�re thinking of, no. There is a spot where mind, body, soul, and vision all meet. At this spot is joy, comfort, giddiness, pleasure, and we found it and we felt it and we reveled in it.

Sunday, after sleep, Lioness whipped together a feast fit for kings (or gods and goddesses, as it was) and we ate and reflected, giggled and remembered, cleaned and readjusted to our own worlds which we would soon again enter.

I picked up my father at the airport last night and had dinner with him. He showed me a flyer for the party HE went to on Saturday night, after spending a day in the city, walking for 3 hours and seeing a matinee of La Boheme on Broadway. It was like a fucking rave, people! My father put on a mask and went with his nieces and nephews to their friend�s annual Halloween party, complete with security and charge to get in. He bragged about the VIP treatment (something that is SO me), not having to pay and getting in ahead of the line. He spoke openly about the drugs on the top floor � �yeah, I was invited up there a few times, but not my dig, I don�t hang like that.� What a wonderful time we had, after such a wonderful weekend for both of us.

Dad talked about the world and how he knows things he wish he didn�t (part of that top-secret retina-scan shit he�s a part of), but most of all, he talked about how much love he has in his life. And how happy he is that he is finally living so fully, and that all he wants is to touch as many people as possible with positivity and at least some of the love that he feels so much of. As I left, with a new jug of apple juice in one hand and a little book called, �Love: A Warm and Wonderful Book About the Largest Experience in Life" in the other, he hugged me and told me that everything is going to be okay.

And I believe him.

-Barbarella

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