Ouch, it's Sunday
The 60's party last night must have been great because I didn't get home until 3 a.m.
It was very odd to be at a party where half the guests were adults and teens in the 60's and the other half were born in the 70's and 80's.
What was really weird was that some people at the party kept making references to things going on in my life, and I realized it was because they read my blog.
Clay and Robert, a totally charming gay couple, won the best costume prize.
Clay was dressed as the perfect scroungy hippy, with the worst, rattiest bell bottom jeans ever. Robert, his 6'8" African American lover, came dressed in a judge's robes with a white curly wig like British barristers wear. He was doing the judge bit from "Laugh In."
Then Marianne, a conservative, rather uptight lady who taught many of us at the party reporting and feature writing in college, showed up on a 60's op-art mini dress and pageboy wig, looking very go go girl. She brought her 18-year-old daughter with her, and she looked like 60's model Jean Shrimpton. Fabulous! When Marianne did the pony during the judging contest, we all freaked out. They won the other grand prize.
With a bunch of snoopy reporters and newspeople at the party, the gossip got juicier as the liquor bottles started to empty.
The best part was, it wasn't that hot outside last night. There was a nice breeze and the giant patchouli incense sticks they had stuck into the ground every 10 feel kept the bugs away.
And there was no rap music.