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2005-12-22 - 3:12 p.m.

Remember me?

It's been awhile. I've missed you.

To fill you in, the past couple months have been a whirlwind of the witty and urbane.

Okay, I can't lie to you.

The last couple months have been an occupying drum of the tedious and harried, with a few highlights:

Two words: Club Razzles. It is the complete antithesis of a happening hot spot. The positives: they play the best of the worst club music and not a soul I know would ever go there.

Let me set the scene: a sweaty, drunken, questionably dressed crowd gyrates unabashedly on a dance floor illuminated by blacklight while scantily clad waitresses serve drinks from neon-lit trays. Much dry-humping is attempted, as is the strange dance-mating move we refer to as the "Worshiping of the Crotch."

Do you know that move? It's where these guys get all low in front of a woman and sort of court her nether region by looking right at it and making waving motions with their hands.

So, where else could possibly be a better place than a hotel-adjacent night club --- frequented by gangsta-dressed guys and a guy who looks exactly like Erkel and dances like Michael Jackson --- to go for Girls Night Out?

My sister and I enjoy making completely sober asses of ourselves on the dance floor. Last week, my look was Slutty Transvestite Pirate. It was almost as hot as my moves adapted from a combination of Carmen Electra's Strip Aerobics, Bellydancing and African Dance classes and some horrible DVD my sister bought called "Freestyle." (Which, by the way, was very much a resource referenced by one danseur on the floor whom we appointed "Euro Trash" and who looked almost exactly like Rob Thomas.)

Also this month I turned, er, thirty-one. This was painful. At least when I turned thirty, there was the fanciful notion of a celebration year and a biggish party with costumed friends with bad German accents and karaoke and drunken tomfoolery.

This year, the hub took me to the National Zoo, which I highly recommend --- let it be known, and to Chinatown for dinner, for day two of my three day birthday weekend. He's a sweet guy, the hub.

We got to see the dad panda in person and Butterstick via 24-hour panda cam. And the reptile house managed to shame me for my feelings about snakes through their shameless pro-snake propaganda. (I swear, they're like the Fox News of Herpetology. They are all up on the anti-snake conspiracy and shit.)

Regardless of their pro-snake stance and lecturing via dioramas, etcetera, I still jumped about a mile when someone was walking around with a snake like it was all normal and friendly and shit. I KNOW the truth, people, and that is that the creature is just waiting patiently until it is big enough to wring you easily.

So my day at the zoo was a very nice way to spend the day that I could have spent moping about thinking about my mortality and how I haven't done as much as I would have liked by now and how I live in a house in various states of deconstruction and we still (even today) have not turned on the heat because I am a miser.

On day three of birthday weekend, my parents came and visited and took the sister and yours truly out for sushi, so all my Asian culinary needs were met. My sister also gave me a session of bellydancing lessons for my birthday and some very cute french underpants with a poodle on them.

Also, my buddy PimpCups had an opening of his fabulouso Comic Book art at this place on day one of my birthday weekend, so we hung with him and his lovely bride and Big Poppa (who was demoted by 'Cups to Lil' Bitch), after the hub and I got out of the Garden Club Holiday Party with my big bouffant hair that was really the life of every party that night.

Furthermore, that woman in France had that face transplant, and I am completely obsessed with it.

And my sister has now finished her semester of brainiac grad school, and I can finally get some attention from her because she doesn't have her head in a book every second of the day, only right now she is napping. Which is why I thought, hey --- I've been meaning to update for months. Which is true, only I have been busy with stupid stuff like work and freelancing and making ornaments for charity auctions and helping the garden club decorate the historic mansion in Petersburg for Christmas and planning the neighborhood holiday party and trying to Christmas shop and going to every holiday party to which I could possibly make it and wearing cute shoes to most of them and turning thirty-one and all.

But I think I heard my sister moving around upstairs, so I may go bug her some more. We're planning the Christmas menu. We're making maki sushi* and green tea and salad with ginger dressing and a delightful trifle and Japanese cookies purchased at the Asian Market for dessert this year, and since it all has to be made right then for freshness sake, it requires scheduling and list preparedness and prep work.

*Except for the hub, who will be eating ham.

Gotta go. Love ya'!

~Prix

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