Weekend Update

I cannot tell you how long it's been since I went down to the clubs to see the gang. For someone who was once crowned the Empress of Red River, I sure have been neglecting my royal duties.

Yet Saturday night found me hitting my old beat. It was great.

Initially I was hesitant; Michael's band was playing at Headhunters and I wasn't sure I even wanted to be around.

Michael, if you'll cast your memory back, was my long term whatever who dumped me via instant message after he met this East German Amnesiac to whom he is now married, but seriously y'all, it's been like three years...(two years? Two years I think) and besides, I got Red River and all our friends in the "divorce."

So I tossed on my devastating new black and white dress, which I ripped off of Charles Busch in Die! Mommie! Die! (who in turn ripped off Marilyn Monroe in her unreleased film "Something's Gotta Give" pictured above) grabbed my long suffering shar pei, Dozer, and hit the street.


(Charles Busch in Die! Mommie! Die!)

I didn't end up going into a single club but chatted outside Beerland and Headhunters. It was so nice to see the old Black Cat gang (these are the people who --before Beerland opened-- would hang out at the sadly-incinerated Black Cat Lounge) but also a little bittersweet. I can't say why exactly, only that I miss looking breathlessly forward to the first Saturday of every month, deciding what hair and outfits to wear and dancing like crazy, then going back to Michael's for cocktails and whatnot. That used to be the best day of my month. Now, often as not, I think about going but opt to go to bed early, or do homework . Yawnsville, right?

And now, because every story deserves a happy ending, I walked by Headhunters, peeked in and saw Michael and his new wife and my first thought was a dispassionate "meh." Not excited, not melancholy, just "meh." Frankly, seeing the Crushproof boys (my mechanics) elicited a bigger gut reaction.

I guess I really don't care.