a fit of FOMO

I somehow just found out this morning that there's to be a second Catwalk reunion this Friday. Ordinarily I'd be all over that like white on rice, but there are two three problems: a) I've already agreed to help Dancer move on Saturday morning, the irony here being that she was the one who told me about the Catwalk; b) my favorite vampire witch queen will not be in attendance; and c) there's a regular event, the women's Leather munch, at C.C. Attle's earlier in the evening that I wanted to check out.

I've said it before, but it bears repeating: when I am Imperatrix Mundi, I will schedule all club nights and shows to my own satisfaction. All shall love me and despair show up and groove.

After making dinner for m'boy on Saturday night, I'm sure I can think of something to do. And there's Pride a week later. Aw to the yeah.