Went up to LA for another evening/weekend of debauchery. And found out that, well, I�m just a little famous up there. I know, I know, you�re thinking, �Barb! How can you come across so cocky and full of yourself?� Just hear me out, kiddy, you�ll see what I�m talking about in just a moment. Kitty and I kidnapped Master Love on Friday night. Up we went, I drove us to Club Lush in Santa Monica to meet up with some friends who were throwing a birthday party for a friend of theirs. The club was hot, stuffy, and the music was horrible. But, we didn�t have to pay or wait in line, because Barbarella here was on the VIP list (typical LA prerequisite for going ANYWHERE). I looked around and only saw a small handful of familiar faces.

On to the after party! Ktut�s & Chris�s house in Marina Del Rey, a block from the beach, spacious, typical party pad. We got there and immediately parked our asses on a couch, taking stock of the crowd. Many men, a few women, all strange faces. At this point, Master Love said, �So Barb, do you know many people here?� And I replied with, �Nope. No, not at all.� Not 10 seconds after I answered him, a man with long hair walked over to us. �Barbarella! Hi! Give me a hug, how are you doing, I can�t believe you made it!� Okay, I didn�t recognize him, so I said, �Hey, have we met?� He wrapped his arms around me and said, �Of course we have! You initiated the group hug at Camp David! I�ll NEVER forget that, it was so awesome, that party was so much fun!� Ah yes, I did have a vague recollection of hanging at Camp David a while back. Hmm.

Kitty and I decided to head upstairs and check out the scene. In the hallway, we were stopped by a stout muscular man. �Sorry, no one�s allowed up here, private party in Ktut�s room.� �No worries,� I said. Then I asked his name, which was Mark, and I extended my hand and said, �Nice to meet you Mark, I�m Barbarella.� �Barbarella? THE Barbarella? You don�t know me, but I know OF you, man, you can go wherever you want in this house! Man, Barbarella.� Okay, I will not lie to you. At this point, I am fucking beaming, I don�t know what people say about me up there, but it had cast the majority of partygoers into immediate Barbarella-worship. I was most gracious, of course, gave Mark a hug and proceeded to this �private-room party�.

I walk in and hear my name called out from voices on the floor, laying on the bed. A woman giving someone a massage, overhearing the greetings to me, said, �Barbarella is here? No one told me she was going to be here! I�ve heard so much about her, she�s actually here?� Okay, I realize at this point that I am getting redundant. But this is how the beginning of my evening was, and of course, in respect for my ego, I�m going to share every little bit of it. Anyway, I walked up to this girl, Chi Chi was her name, I believe, and I said, �What difference would it have made if you knew ahead of time, were you going to roll out a red carpet or something?� Realizing that I was she, this Barbarella she�s heard so much about (and I�m still dying to know what the fuck these people are saying about me up there) she immediately stopped the massage to give me a hug. I can live with this. But enough about me.

Kitty and I were PSYCHOTIC. We scared away the little boys, keeping only the strong around us. I remember her face on my breast, gnawing at my dirty pillows, laughing our asses off, bouncing on a blue-foam mat thingy, crab-walking down the stairs to attack those poor party-poopers who were passed out on the couches. Master Love curled up on the floor in an upstairs bedroom to get some shut-eye. Kitty and I took on Santa Monica in the morning, walking to the store in our evening attire, and with her black outfit and little purple sunglasses, she really did look like a rock-star partying. We were barefoot, by the way.

The birthday girl arrived back to the party at around 9am? I think. We had heard each other�s names before, but had never met, so it was nice to hang with her for just a little bit before she left for good. Cool lady, I dig her. As boys began to wake up around the house, Kitty and I were ready to suck them right back into our little world of laughing and bouncing on that blue-foam mat thingy. Ah, what fun. Master Love didn�t know what he was getting into when he agreed to accompany us to a party in LA. At around 2pm, we finally made it to Camp David. Tour Manager�s house in the Palisades, lovely, green, lush, clean, filled with smiles and delicious food. Just what we needed at that point. J, oh he who lives there, offered to throw my birthday party there. Next month, in September. He offered all of Camp David for me to have at my disposal for a raging birthday party.

This man is an angel. First, he spreads whatever stories he spread about me to make me a legend among his friends. Then, open invite whenever to his beautiful place, and GIVING me the house for a weekend to do with it what I wish. I hardly know this person, and he loves and trusts me to no bounds. I�m struggling REALLY hard to remember the first time we met (I swear we�ve only hung out once or twice) so I can remember what it is I did to create such an impression on such a cool, genuine guy. I�m not going to question it too much, though. Accept and appreciate. Embrace, if you will. That�s what I�ll do.

Master Love drove my car back to San Diego, as Kitty and I were finally ready to crash out. We made it back to my place to enter our rejuvenation comas. Nice, relaxing movie last night, and here I am to start another week! I�ve been a bad, bad, girl. And I am totally okay with that. Not fair to the world, to get away with what we got away with. To party like we did and be completely fine and refreshed on Monday. Not fair at all. But hey, who said life was fair? Superstars must live up to their reputations, and if my evening/day in LA this weekend was any indication, I definitely have a reputation. Time to plan a birthday party, I do believe. This time, I want it to be MY name on the cake.

-Barbarella

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