�A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.� � Walt Whitman, poet (1819-1892)

I love morning-glories . A vibrant bluish-purple that, when lit directly by the morning sun, reflects a hue that calms the senses. We had some outside of my apartment in LA. They made me love mornings. My other favorite flower is the night jasmine, because of its intoxicatingly sweet and sultry smell in the middle of the night. I think I have a poem written about them somewhere. Sigh.

Ooh, this one�s just about ripe. Lucky is the lady to pluck him from his royal garden. If he�s half as cool as he is hot, this boy is the catch of the century. The weekend is upon us, and a lot of my friends are attending a camping/party/rave thingy to celebrate Soulstice. They consider it a pre-burning man like party. I�ve been to Burning Man, I�ve never been to Soulstice. It sounds fun, but I�m not up for a long drive to a random place. It�s one thing if I�m going camping. Another if I�m going partying, and lately, I like to end up closer to home after a good party.

Unless I�m partying in LA, of course. But therein lies my double-standard. Tonight, I�ll be celebrating Cabana Boy�s birthday at Hamburger Mary�s, and tomorrow night I�ll most likely be going to a party with some new friends (just met these cool cats last week, and so far they�re fabulous), then Sunday I�ll accompany my mother to Ronaldo�s , where we�ll get some �do�s�, and then I�ll probably head over to another friend�s bar-b-que at the park. Whew! I didn�t realize until now just how much is going on.

Last night, did some boogying with Halcyon , ran into yet another new face from back in the day at Bonita Vista, and simply rocked out to DJ Irene�s awesome energy. God, how she works a room! You could feel it like an electrical buzz in the air, raising the hairs of your arms with its static� fuck, raising your arms themselves with its pull! That�s right, and don�t you forget it.

Have a great weekend! I�ll be taking advantage of this wanting-to-be-social for a bit momentum. At least to get me through another few parties with a smile on my face. Ain�t that what the weekends are all about? Well, that and masturbation, but we assume the latter is just an accepted common denominator across the board. Rock on.

-Barbarella

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