The Abbey party was a rousing success. The food was beautiful, the music was great, and the entertainment was lovely and perverted.

The conversations were fascinating as well. Some memorable remarks addressed to me throughout the course of the evening:

“I want you to sit on my face on my deathbed.”

“So I said to her, ‘the wrong rapist has your keys’.

(As I slapped a woman’s chain-mail covered breasts with my be-ringed hands) “My tits sound like a snare drum!”

“You’re a really good writer. And I’m not just saying that to get in your pants.”

Malixe took some great pictures, but the process of collecting various people’s consent to use their image always takes longer than one wishes, so I have no good pictures today. (Monk got first dibs, so go check his blog for some cool shots.)

I do have one of me, though, which I will use to illustrate the fact that half my friends did double-takes when they saw me.

It’s true that I don’t wear hats that often. But even so, it seems that this silver latex cowboy hat that Jae made me has magical powers of disguise, because lots of people told me they didn’t recognize me at first. Or maybe it was my outfit, which was uncharacteristically wacky. Sort of an 80’s/glitterpunk-fetish look - rubber bracelets, multiple belts and all. I tend to be a basic black girl, but you have to break out sometimes. Plus, the floors in the Abbey? Concrete. Uneven concrete, at that, and no way was I going to walk around for several hours in spike heels on such a rough industrial surface. I had to wear something I could pair with my big ole New Rock boots.

I'm not praying, by the way. I'm watching Tamara The Trapeze Lady and clapping in delight.

So the party was great. Now, the next big events? Well, August 27th is my 7th anniversary with my darling Max, and we have some plans for that. And then Monk and I are off to Austin on the 31st. It never stops around here.