I am very pleased to announce that nobody left the evening stumbling drunk, as has happened so often when I have met up with Taydo. We did rehash all of the times in which I stumbled around before, though, knocking him into passersby named Gina and the time when we all shrieked "Crack is Whack!!" at a drag queen.

Flex and I dragged the two of them to Musical Mondays at Splash...err, at "SBNY," I suppose, even though they changed their name ages ago and I still call it Splash. Just like the drug store a few blocks from the house where I grew up that has had probably five different names since I was five, but which I still call "Skaggs" twenty years later. So we whiled the night away singing along to Wicked and Thoroughly Modern Millie and laughing at the scary cruisers.

Thank god, however, that we went there last night -- or else I would have NO reasonable explanation for a dream I had last night. In which I was throwing a party and it was attended by Carol Channing and Liza Minnelli. Which is clearly the gayest dream ever. And which also almost made ArtStudent cry with laughing when I told her about it this morning. And no, for the record, I was not wearing taffeta in my dream. I think. Seriously, if you are throwing a party and Carol Channing and Liza Minnelli show up, what you are wearing is the LEAST of your worries.