What an eventful weekend it�s been for me! Well, the last 3 evenings, actually. After not going out at all last weekend, my usual weekend schedule felt like Hurricane Iris. Crazy, windy, fun. Yeah, that�s right, �windy� is a word I will now coin to describe my extravagant social escapades. How was the party last night, Barb? Windy, kid. Windy like a hurricane. So, little recap for you here, and a bit about the upcoming week, because Lordy! I don�t know when or if I�ll get the chance to update you from the East Coast! God forbid we don�t know what I did for a day, right? Let alone a week! It�ll probably effect me more than you, I have this funky NEED to share shit, like all the time. But I digress.

As we know, I went dancing on Thursday, fun, fun, fun. Friday I went over to M&M�s for a spontaneous happy hour gathering. The apple-tini�s were nummy for sure (yummy, yet after a few of them, I couldn�t feel my face, get it? That�s a good drink, by the way), the homemade snacks were deliciously addictive. Good gathering. I got to see Kaya & Dlove, good friends I used to see on a much more regular basis. It was nice, good energy. Then, the girls were anxious! LA boys on their way down, so much preparation to do. Pixie and I headed over to Pony�s, and we topped off the night drinking wine, molesting Billy in the best ways possible, and then Kitty showed up right before Comedian and Actor, and it was silliness from there on out. We had a lot of fun with the World News periodical, you know, about Bat Boy crawling onto a marine base and saying, �me want join army! Fight terrorists!� Too fucking funny.

Saturday, what did I do, hmm. Ah, yes! Shopped my fucking ass off. Mom was more than generous. 4 new pairs of shoes, two colorful, silky bras, and I won�t even go into the clothing� too much. Very nice, indeed. Speaking of generous, a woman from the Red Cross actually met up with us where we were shopping in the mall to drop off a check. The check is to cover the air fare for the six of us to fly back east, and 2 rent-a-cars for the entire week. Yes, that�s right, the Red Cross is paying for the bereaved family of lost firemen who are flying out for various services. We were overwhelmed with gratitude. After the mall (and all of my new, wonderful things), I headed home to ready myself for a night on the town. A handful of beautiful people met up at my place for a bit of gathering and pre-downtown-socialization, Halcyon was lookin� hot with the eyeliner, and Cyrano was LA �dapper�, with a pinch of spiffiness. We were ready to party.

Downtown, Aubergene was the name of the club. The VIP line was longer than the regular line, and not moving an inch. But we met up with Pixie right on time to drag her through with us, our lovely friend who works with the doormen flashed a smile, and we were inside. Valerie & the Vibe Tribe went off, her two vixen dancers twirling fire and looking as hot as ever. Nice. Then, the place just got way too crowded and obnoxious, and the five of us absquatulated. Don�t know what it means? Look it up. I do believe this word should be more in the circuit than it is. I�m trying to coin it as well, right along with �windy�. Oh, yeah. Barbarisms galore.

We headed to Pixie�s place, Comedian (God, I fucking love this guy), Kitty, Cyrano, and moi. We got silly, I got stupid (more than once), Comedian burped vomit into his hand (quite the rock star thing to do), which made me giggle uncontrollably for some reason. And Cyrano and I had a heart to heart, in which I got to learn quite a bit more about him. Those are the best, by the way, the randomly brought up stories of the past, the slow peeling back of our layers as we get to know our friends just a little bit better than we thought we could. Very cool.

Did I mention that Comedian totally puked?! HA!!!! Silly kids. I don�t remember what time I got home, but I�ll tell you one thing, it was light outside. I missed church with my Dad, c�mon, I needed SOMETHING to feel guilty about. I�d gone too long without any major guilt-related stress.

So I leave tomorrow morning. Eight days in New York City. With my family. I�m going to just HAVE to have access to a computer out there. Too much will be going on emotionally (and exteriorly, with my psycho-fun extended family) for me not to write about it. For now� for now, I don�t know anything. But honestly folks, when did I ever?

See you from the Right Coast (because our family refers to us as the �left� coast). Dear God, pray that I don�t bitch slap my mother to induce her to get a hold of herself when she disappears into her starring role in Melodramatic Theater. But honestly, wouldn�t that be a great story? �Daughter bitch-slaps overreacting mother at cousin�s NYFD funeral.� And knowing MY sick fucking family, as pissed as my mother would be at me for eternity (the old Italian silent treatment), it would be almost worth it for their appreciation of the humor of it all.

And there is that, you know. Humor, in it all. I�ll miss my friends. Be prepared for me to come back with a warped and twisted poor city accent. It happens every Goddamn time I visit back there. Okay, time to pack the sweaters. I forgot what �cold� was like. Time to reacquaint myself with it, in more ways than one (as I train my hand on a pillow, palm side, back hand, palm side, back hand, for the ultimate bitch-slap, the bitch-slap to end all bitch-slaps). If anyone can pull it off, it�s me.

-Barbarella

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