Feels as if I packed several weeks into two nights and two days. In other words, been a busy weekend. Friday night, a long week at work, both Kitty and I had had quite a day. We swore each other that we would go out that evening and just get smashed together. I can�t think of a better way to say Fuck It All than partying despite a bad mood. We pulled it off quite nicely, I must say. Lounging on the couch, watching a foreign flick (French Twist � about a lesbian nanny who adds an interesting �twist� to a struggling couple�s marriage), feeling lethargic and wasted. But then I put on my makeup. And once my makeup is put on, I am intent on going out. I gave Kitty a pep talk to get her off the couch, and we ventured off.

Drove downtown, not happenin�. Drove to Lips, not sure of the kind of night it would be there, never having gone on a Friday. After we watched two mannish women in leather and several extreme gothic-garbed kids, we decided to pull a hat-trick and try one more time for a place to hang �em (get it, the hats?) for the rest of the evening. The Ken Club, in Kensington, where the band, Clyde�s Ride was playing. This was the place, we could feel it. Or was that something else I was feeling? Or was Kitty feeling ME? Hmm. Well anyway, we parked our asses on a bar stool and sipped our cocktails and chatted until the band went on. Great music, jazzy, funky, female & male vocalist, trombone, French horn, guitars, drummer, there were 7 people playing that night (I believe it�s a 9-person band when complete).

Kitty was the hit that evening, though. We ran into an old friend of hers from San Francisco who knows her only as Monkey. Interesting animal twist there. This friend of hers kept calling me Rose throughout the evening (I found out later it was because he thinks I resemble Rose McGowan, some actress who used to date Marilyn Manson). By the time we left, Kitty had 4 boys after her, all waiting patiently in a line outside to get the chance for a hug goodbye and maybe, if they were lucky, a kiss on the cheek. Tee hee. Good Kitten. She and I headed back to her friend�s place, where we poked the smot and watched some disturbing (I mean DISTURBING) movies. Shakes the Clown and Doom Generation (ironically starring Rose McGowan).

I very rarely smoke the wacky tobaccy. I seriously couldn�t feel my neck. I fell asleep on the couch in an upright position, right smack dab in the middle of Kitty and her friend. Felt great when I woke up, though, and after getting home, I slept for a good portion of the day, comfortable, lovely. Saturday night, had some sushi with Kitty and her friend (same guy from the night before, let�s call him Mr. Z. The rest of the evening was full of fun and unexpected turns. Went to Nunu�s (you can probably see by now that this is a regular thing for us to do) with Pony, Pixie, Kitty, Mr. Z, and once there, ran into 15 other friends (okay, I mean 8 or so, but still, that�s a lot, you must admit). We were rolling deep. It was great to see everyone and chat with a select few, have a few drinks and basically rule the bar.

When we were done with the scene, a handful of us (including all the girls, of course) headed to Club Ultra downtown, after hours at 4th & B. Interesting crowd. I do believe that next time I go there, I mustn�t be sober. Men and boys encircled us on the dance floor, every time one of the girls turned around, she found another random freak (and I don�t use the term lightly here) trying to dance with her. We spent a lot of time just watching people. Oh my, my, what then? Back to Pixie�s Palace. Like Alice stepping through the Looking Glass, that was. I don�t know what happened! We polished off two bottles of vodka, I remember that. Gotta love Red Bull. We were the antithesis of tired. Surprisingly, it was Kitty who passed out, despite her cat nap earlier in the evening.

So she�s sleeping like Snow White on the couch and Mr. Z, Pony, Pixie and I slowly morphed into idiots. But oh, the laughter. I remember laughing and drinking through straws and laughing and more vodka and more laughing and finally, passing out on Pixie�s couch with her snuggled beside me. I�m not even going to go into Sunday. Let�s just say I got my laundry done, and that�s really all that mattered to me. Okay, I saved Pixie from entertaining more guests, which would have taken her into playing the 24-hour hostess, and THEN I went back home, slept, slept, slept some more, felt hungover, slept, felt MUCH better, did my laundry and went to bed. To sleep. Aahhhhh. So nice.

-Barbarella

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