Call Ripley�s, I hardly believe this myself! I did NOT go out Friday OR Saturday night. I know, fuckin� crazy, tell me about it. I DID have a nice, family-filled, and relaxing weekend though, so there. Friday, well, I had just gotten home, we know that, I wrote about that already. Saturday, hmm. Ah yes. I went to Pony�s for the big game! My decadent woman, she and her domestic partner put together quite the gourmet feast for their guests. Caviar, pate, shrimp, salmon, you know, your typical �football food�. Champagne, wine and cocktails. Don�t do the pigskin without it.

I had a great time, some Stanton boys came over, and I actually got into the game (possibly a first). Into early evening, I pulled a BarBitch and challenged one of Pony�s guests over a word he used. It�s just� it�s just that I can�t STAND when people are so sure of themselves when I KNOW that they�re totally wrong. I know, I know, it was unnecessary, but I just couldn�t let this one slide. He said that his ferret was a �vermint�. First of all, that�s not even a word. I thought he was kidding, laughed, then his woman told me he was serious. Being diplomatic, and not completely sure myself, I said, �you know, I�m not sure, but I sure am curious. Why don�t we look it up?�

BIATCH. Just as I suspected, �varmint�, the southern colloquialism for �vermin�, means pesty things, can be rats & mice, but does not define the family rodentia. Turns out a ferret is a part of the weasel family, something I did not know, so the whole thing was very worth it to me. I mean, I learned something new. So, after offending the guests and being pompous for a moment, I handed the conch back to Pony and heard some wonderful stories of her experiences visiting her man�s family in Boston. And then, filled with great food, great company and great satisfaction, I excused myself and headed home.

Dad came over to watch Andrea Boccelli (sp?) on A&E. His favorite singer right now, but he doesn�t receive that channel and I haven�t cancelled it just yet. The show was mediocre, he wasn�t impressed with the new album, and he headed home. I stayed up for a bit, laughed at some SNL and headed to bed with my book. Sunday! What a nice day. Jane (the eldest of the psycho girls) came over and we walked around Hillcrest, grabbed some lunch, did some shopping. I could get lost in Babbette Schwartz�s Shop. Drag Queens have the best taste and sense of humor. I could only aspire. One day, I will be the diva they dress as. Give me a decade or two, you�ll see. And we will strut down Madison Ave, Sunset Blvd, you name it. Together, looking fabulous. But that�s just another little dream of mine.

Back to the real story. After shopping for a bit, Jane and I went driving around, she�s looking for a new house to buy and we left that GAP 30% off coupon at her house anyway, so a drive was in order. House-shopping, certificate pick-up over sleeping, hungover husband taken care of, we headed back to Hillcrest. More shopping, and I eventually walked home and Jane took off, back to her responsibilities. Oh, the stress of selling drugs. Pharmaceuticals, that is. She�s the best at it, that�s for sure, for the #1 company in the world right now, but I keep telling her, it ain�t worth ALL that stress, babe. Nobody�s said on their deathbed, �I really wish I�d put more time in at the office.� If they did, they were delirious and it doesn�t count. So there.

What else did I do? Ah, yes. Picked up Pixie & Kitty from the airport in the evening, read too many fashion magazines, talked on the phone to a few friends and took my book to bed. Like I said, a nice, relaxing weekend. Now, skedaddle! I�ve got shit to do.

-Barbarella

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