Work's been kicking my butt so far this month, but I played hooky last night. Boy, am I glad I did. Got much dance on, partly because staxxy commanded it (Kim says yeaux, by the way), and partly because I indulged my raver tendencies at the Re-Bar. That's a long walk from 12th & Pike, folks, especially in fishnets, but hey, I needed the exercise, and sometimes partying takes effort.

For the record, in case you were wondering: I don't femme up to get attention from drunken frat-looking types. One of them on Pine street took about fifty yards to get the hint. Thank Bob the Hill is still busy at 12:30.

Re: the Re-bar, I'd love to get a group of PiBs (People in Black) together and invade a house night sometime because a) we dress better and b) we'll dance to anything anyway.

The fambly picked thirty-seven (37) pounds of plums yesterday -- that's over four gallons -- from a friend's tree, and Her Nibs is now halfway through making them into jam. She's a freak, but in a good way.