(Le Montrose computer has hiccoughs)

Sail? I have something to send you if you're still up for it. I just want to make sure the e-mail address I have is a good one to send to.

If anyone would like to beta my first chapter, let me know. The novel is sci-fi, but the sf elements have not emerged yet.

Glad to hear that the clubbing was productive, deb. Travel safely.

New drabble time!

Challenge #118 (things better left unsaid) is now closed.

Challenge #119 is advertising. Now new and improved, with 100% more drabbling power!

-t, my profile addy is good. Looking forward to it!

I wish Kristen had felt well enough to come along.

Me too! I'm sad that I missed the night out. I bought cute things to wear and special underwear and everything.

-t, my profile address should be good. Hit me if you'd like.

Insent SailAweigh and JoeCrow. Thanks a couple of tons!

I bought cute things to wear and special underwear and everything.

You had to be doing way better in the undies department than the leggy blonde in the white minidress a few feet from us. The dress was backless and she was wearing a black bra, with the tag showing.

I have Felipe's card in my bag, and need to email him a thank-you for the velvet rope obligingness, and also for providing us with the comfy couch in the VIP corner.

I now have to write this damned book. Last night - amusing, yes - did hammer it home: hiphop, by and large, really does make me want to gouge my own ears out with a fish fork.

The club was fascinating, in a Memory Lane way: total meat market. If that had been Madison Square Garden for the Stones in the seventies, half the chicks there would have been there for the specific purpose of bumping bellies with the band, and they'd have ended up with the roadies, most likely.

And there would have been one or two little lamb chops I would have personally strongarmed away from my sweetie. The more things change...

Oh, line of the evening: "I just wanna give a shoutout to all the white girls here tonight!"

ita and I were both speechless.

Oh, and ita was about a zillion times hotter than any of the chicks out there on the dance floor. I also actually danced a not very stately measure with one of Felipe's guys, conclusively proving to myself that toujours gai, there is indeed a dance in the old dame yet - and what's more, I did it in my Jimmy Choos.

An interesting evening. Bottom line, I soaked the vibe and the tier structure of the meat market aspect in, along with the noise levels and ridiculous prices on champagne (yes they had Cristal for $850 a bottle), and can now write this bit.

Other bottom line: I am devoutly thankful I don't have to make a habit of it.

ah, the sacrifices you make for your art!

I now have to write this damned book. Last night - amusing, yes - did hammer it home: hiphop, by and large, really does make me want to gouge my own ears out with a fish fork.

Oh dear.