Okay, just learned a little lesson: hold the puff-pastry thing powdered sugar side up so that your black blazer isn�t covered in what looks like a bad �blow� accident. All of my coworkers think I�m playing with nose-candy because I don�t know how to eat the real kind. Anyway, back from the holidays! And, I have a computer now, so I�ll be able to update on the weekends very easily. That is, as soon as it�s all set up. Crazy-fun-long weekend.

Friday night was fun. I stopped by some friends� places, hung out, chatted, all that good stuff. Then I went out, downtown, to a club that a friend of mine was spinning at. I think some background information is needed here for any of the following to make sense. There�s this guy I met a few years ago (2 years ago, to be exact), when I was visiting from LA, he�s a go-go dancer for one club, bartender of another, just gets around downtown. The night I met him, we did some heavy flirting and exchanged numbers. Over the years, I�ve run into him several times, spoken with him on the phone a few times, but never followed through with going home with him. At first, he sort of scared me. Very kinky guy, has a dungeon, described a variety of erotic tortures and pleasures that he would like to bestow upon me. Then again, he only freaked me out at first; I had just moved to LA and had not yet experienced all of the crazy things I have since.

Now I return with a smorgasbord of experience, stories I�ve heard, witnessed or been the main character of (mostly the latter). So basically, it takes A LOT to shock me or scare me away anymore. And not as much to intrigue or entice me. But I digress. Moral of the story is, he was there when I got to the club. We said hello, exchanged a few words, and I agreed to let him buy me a drink at a little bar across the street. Downstairs bar, small dance floor, a handful of people scattered throughout. He led me to the unisex bathroom and we entered the one stall in the small room that also had a sink and a urinal. The stall was large, though, and there was a full-length mirror in the corner. Interesting, I thought. Usually the mirrors are by the sink. This bathroom must have been made with horny bar-hoppers in mind.

I could get into lurid detail at this point. I could tell you exactly what we did that resulted in each of us climaxing. But all you need to know is that about 10 minutes later, I was reapplying my lipstick in the full-length mirror, legs shaking uncontrollably from after-spasms and just the overall excitement of it all. I made sure that not a hair was out of place in my coiffure, and followed him to the bar, where I quickly finished a cocktail before we walked back to the club, where I met up with more friends who had just arrived. The rest of the night, I laughed and danced with groups of people, all the while thinking, �Not one of you knows what I�ve just done.� It was a tad bit thrilling, I�m not exactly sure why. It made me wonder what each of the people I saw had done moments before I met up with them. The realization that there are depths of things left unsaid. It made me want to listen to all of them, if that makes any sense. To get into someone�s head and compare it with my own. But I quickly tired of my thoughts and incessant analyzing and headed home for the evening.

The rest of my weekend shines in other ways. Went to a holiday party Saturday night, very mellow, a different crowd then I usually hang with, it was interesting to observe them, note the differences in subjects of conversation, dress, speech, etc. Just something I like to do, notice, analyze, think, think, think. We choose to hang with crowds of people that we can identify with. And that�s what was wrong with this picture. I couldn�t really identify with any of these people. I felt different. A stranger among men. I interact well with people from all walks of life, and socially, I had a good time, laughing, telling stories that others laughed at. But at that point, I was aware that my only concern was amusing myself, which I did. Not getting to know anyone, because at some point I figured that it just wasn�t worth the time.

Sunday, I shopped. Then I shopped, and did some shopping. I love giving gifts to people. It just feels good. Christmas was good this year. Yes, there was some expected family drama, but nothing that didn�t blow over. Overall, it was very pleasant, it always is when all of my sisters get together. We basically laughed hysterically for an entire night and day. Speaking of people I really identify with, my sisters are cut from the same crazy cloth as I am. And I fucking love to be around them. It�s refreshingly reassuring to be a piece of the jigsaw that fits perfectly into the puzzle.

Ah, the holidays.

-Barbarella

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