I just know I’m going to forget someone, but there is an unwritten rule in blogdom that if you attend a blogger event you must blog about it, and you must mention everyone there. And I am not immune to unwritten rules, nor to the charm of my fellow bloggers.

Last night I picked up Vince in my lesbian Subaru and took a Bay Bridge ride together, filling the car with boy talk. Well, it was more evolved than just boy talk, but we did talk about boys. We skimmed over the bay and onto the fair island of Alameda. When the Ex and I first moved here, five years ago, we stayed with a friend on Alameda. He tried to convince us to look for a place there, but after two days of enduring the bridge commute we nixed that idea. Besides, when your dream is to live in San Francisco, well, you want to live in San Francisco. Vince and I drove past the little pet hospital where the Ex and I had to kennel our poor Louie because our friend was rather prissy about dogs. Poor Louie, I remember when we got our keys to our new apartment in the Haight we grabbed Louie, a couple of sleeping bags and some candles (the electricity wasn’t turned on yet) and squatted the night before we were supposed to move in. Ah, good times.

Vince and I arrived at a very cute house where we were welcomed by Cheyenne and Mike (both sporting new, fresh tattoos) and their friends Gretchen and Chris. Lovely, warm people who were complete strangers to me. Where was the man of the hour? Someone had to drag him downstairs, and there was Jhames, wearing a t-shirt he picked up at a Hare Krishna temple. Jhames had spent the whole day cooking for us, and because I was perilously close to a large bowl of guacamole, I stayed put. Yum. A few minutes later Jill joined us, and I managed to grab a few minutes of good chat with her. I had a great time hanging and eating and trying not to pose for pictures. Jhames gave me porn and a CD. We all ended up watching an hour of “Jackass” and I think Mike and I were the only ones to remain in the living room for the “regurgitated omelette” scene (“Look at how the milk just makes it rise up!”) I think I will forever be scarred. But in a good way. Thank you Jhames for the wonderful dinner and the great company…as anyone from the East Bay will testify, it takes a lot for those of us in San Francisco to cross the bridge. Trust.

And more! Tonight I met Vince and Jhames and Cheyenne and Mike for a vegetarian dinner (mmmm, this Neatloaf is like Mom’s!) downtown and we were joined by three bloggers much more famous than me: Min Jung (very beautiful and wearing bullet-proof lighting bolt wrist warmers) and Ernie (cracks me UP, I giggled all night long), and one of my all-time favorite humans, Aaron, who drove all the way from Sacramento. Later we went for coffee and drinks and were joined by Robbie and also Robert (whew, I think I got everyone). We quickly developed an adversarial relationship with our waitress and drove everyone else out of the dining room, while someone at a piano around the corner sang “My Funny Valentine.” Massive desserts and lots of laughter and more of those damn digital cameras flashing everywhere. I will tell you now, my eyes will be red in every single one of them. Because I am a demon seed and you are all now under my spell.

P.S. I have won a highly-coveted award from Corey. I know the rest of you are jealous, but as he clearly states, there’s only room for one “Person I Don’t Know But Want to Marry. ” It’s okay, boys, there’s always next year.

P.P.S. A special shout-out to my monkey boy, my atomic saint, a man who shall remain linkless but occupies my head. It’s raining hard here, the wind is sweeping over the hill and shaking my bedroom window. You should see it, it’s great.

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