The wrap up.

Lessons learned this weekend:

If you are trying to keep a friend who's had recent foot surgery company (not to mention in her chair!) by not attending court, you will be called into it. Bonus points for having your hair turned into a rat's nest by prevailing winds. Double bonus points for looking your King in the eye and correcting the facts when he names you a Defender of the West for, get this, representing the West in the A&S competitions at Estrella War: which is not, in fact, what I did. (Don't know who ratted me out, don't care. I didn't do what I did for a ribbon. I did it because this kingdom needs to act like the first among equals when it has the opportunity to interact with the rest of the Known World, rather than rest on ancient history. That said, I am tickled that I got a DW for freaking arts - and profoundly relieved they didn't try to give one to George. George has put in a hell of a lot of time as an unofficial goodwill ambassador from this kingdom, but you just KNOW someone would be fling poo over the idea.)

It is possible to change out of two layered kosode and a sports bra into a strapless bra, dressy top and skirt in the cab of a 1999 Toyota Tacoma without being cited for indecent exposure or tearing anything. It is not, however, optimum.

If you pull into your destination a few minutes early so you can slap on a little war paint and comb out your hair (see rat's nest, above), it is inevitable that you will look up to find your companions for the evening peering curiously through your windshield, guaranteeing that you insert a tine of your comb into one earring and send it somersaulting across the cab of said Tacoma.  No injury to earlobe and the projectile was recovered, bent back into shape and put back where it belonged.

I have finally discovered the purpose for the long loathed and denigrated ruffle. Camouflage! Last night's ensemble featured a shoulder-baring Carole Little top with tiers of wide ruffles and a sequined skirt, both black. When the prettiest drag queen in the room says you look hot, you know you've managed to successfully camouflage any number of figure flaws.

My leather jacket is not old, it's distressed. People PAY for jackets that alread come this way. Though I maybe should glue down that small tear in the left elbow.

It will rain.

Even a fictional character can invent something good. OK, I am not a James Bond fan, but I never liked the gin and vermouth martinis my parents drank. K whipped me up something called a Vesper and I was sufficiently impressed with the results as to actually finish it.

(EDIT especially for danabren . The Godzilla's Footprint is not 1 part sake to 1 part absinthe. K reminds me that a little absinthe goes a long way.  Try it at 3 to 1 and adjust to taste.)

Playing Botticelli well after midnight when strong alcohol is involved and all players are exhausted is madness.

You will come home, log on to find out who actually WON Crown and discover that the kingdom YahooGroup's messages are not currently available. Let's see if it's up now......  Cool beans, Alden and Constantina! Any Queen who will accept monkey kisses is aces in my book.

Lastly, today's Get Fuzzy, for the win. http://comics.com/get_fuzzy/2009-03-22/

That Second Chance Thing.

Titling one's post "Yet another abject apology" would be considerably more believable if said poster had ever actually made any previous public apologies for chronic rudeness on said forum.

Granted, the admission, "I am very inept socially," was a nice start. However, begging for forgiveness for such social ineptitude doesn't work if one then continues the inept social behavior as if nothing has ever happened. A scant 24 hours after the obligatory grovel, slapping someone down with a hoity toity "You're wrong," without giving a clue as to what might BE wrong to the post one disagrees with is Not Cool.