Saturday night was all kinds of fabulous. Don�t worry, I�ll tell you all about it. Friday, I literally got home from work and passed out. Ah, relaxation. So I missed the little gathering at the Silver Dragon, missed out on some socialization, but trust me, I was not at a loss. I mean, I was tired! So I slept. But Saturday, oh, Saturday.

Plans have a way of working themselves out, I do believe. Got a call from Blove, wanting to do something different, meet some new people, just have fun overall, can you blame him? So in order to get ready (I did some serious primping, people, I must say that Saturday night was lacking only in the fact that I didn�t get my picture taken), I skipped dinner with Kitty�s crew and ran straight home to prepare for my evening. Finally, with Bobo and Blove in tow, I arrived at Nunu�s, our local watering hole. I must admit, I wasn�t happy about going there, I was thinking �hotel party�, so I couldn�t shake my disappointment right off the bat. But now, looking back, I am reminded yet again that everything DOES happen for a reason, and we were MEANT to stop by Nunu�s.

Blove had some interest in a cute chicadee who was chatting with a girlfriend off to the side of the bar, but didn�t feel like making an �approach�. So immediately, I swooped in, befriended the girl, and in a matter of moments found out that her friend there went to my high school (surprise), so I whisked her outside for a smoke to �catch up�, leaving Blove with pretty-girl. God, I�m good. I mean REALLY good. I gave her my number so that they keep in touch. Oh yes, they will call, I gave several reasons for why it was just absolutely necessary for them to see us again.

And, not wanting to leave myself out of the hook-up equation, I befriended some cute boys, and gave my number to the one in the tan leather jacket. I�ve been looking for a local boytoy, and this guy just fit the bill in so many ways: good looking, tastes beer for a living, one of those hot guys who�s too much of a dork to pull an effective attitude. Establishing my intent with him with some carefully spoken words and questions (I wasn�t in the mood for bullshitting around), I gave him my number and immediately left with my crew (never linger and hang with a potential bootycall, you don�t want to give them any wrong ideas).

Back to the Stanton Residence, where the fun really began. I never thought this would happen, but I�ve met another Barbara. And dammit if I don�t just LOVE her. It�s true, I walk around with the airs that there�s not enough room in San Diego for another Barbara, but for every rule, we have our exceptions. A cool crew of people back at the residence, we drank and hung, laughed and shared. The other me and I sat on the same couch for most of the evening, and at one point, something clicked within each of us � the name Barbara carries with it some innate sense of understanding, certain characteristics that could only be found and understood by another Barbara.

Bobo dubbed this phenomenon the �Barbara Collective�. It was hysterical. Everything could be related to or explained by the Barbara Collective. Fucking fabulous. This other Barbara and I WILL be hanging out in the future, she actually lives here in San Diego, and I�m OKAY with that. Hee hee. The rest of the night? You don�t need all the details, just know that we had a blast, partied till the break of dawn, and then I did the walk of shame back into my condo, feathers moving around my neck in the breeze, vinyl platforms in hand, I�m sure I scared a few neighbors. Just to get home, relax for a moment, and prepare myself for the drive to Chula Vista, where I spent the rest of the day and evening hanging with my adorable Pop Pop from Jersey. Oh, I�ve got stories about yesterday, but I�ll just have to get to them later. You�ve got enough to think about for now.

-Barbarella

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