Well its been pretty hectic lately in Mir-Landia, thus I haven't had time to work on Part 3. I am trying to get to it this week, since certain unnamed people (Rand_T and Effy and GM) keep bugging me about it. I'm writing already, okay!!!

In the meantime, let me tell you a little about this past weekend. I volunteered to do the website of this non-profit group awhile back. This year is their ten year anniversary, so they held this big gala soiree thingie. My friend, who is on the Board of Directors, invited me to sit at her table.

"We get to dress up!" I tell Hubby excitedly.

"Hmmmph..." Hubby replies, not very enthusiastic about being dragged along. He thinks it will be boring. However, his objections are OVERRULED! Its rare to see Lo-Gung decked out in a formal suit (woo hoo!) and I intend to enjoy it.

"It won't be boring," I inform him. "There will be some dancers performing that night. And free food!"

So on the day of the event, I start to get ready early. My gown is a beautiful navy blue Nicole Miller dress I wore for my sister's 1999 wedding. Of course, I was 10 lbs lighter back then and hadn't yet had Kid #2. I tried it on the day before and it fit, barely. THIS day, the McDonald's chicken sandwich I had must have "pushed me over the edge", because all of a sudden the aforementioned blue dress won't zip up all the way.

In a total panic, I desperately survey my wardrobe for a suitable replacement. The only other three possible candidates:

1. A lavender bridesmaid dress, though formal, really does look like a bridesmaid dress.

2. My Star Trek: Voyager Captain Janeway uniform, which in an alternate universe, if I was in StarFleet, could have passed muster at a formal StarFleet event.

3. A black velvet Ann Taylor sheath purchased back in the early '90s, with a square neckline and pouffy sleeves. Suitable for wearing to either a funeral or time travel back to 1994.

My options were not good. With Hubby grumbling all the while, I put on my makeup and jewelry, a t-shirt, shorts and some flip-flops. We head to Macys to see if I could find a formal dress off the rack. After some hemming and hawing, I settled on a classic black dress, while elegant and stylish, was also a little on the conservative side. No time to ponder on how my taste in clothing is getting decidedly more like my mother's as I get older.

We race down to where the event is being held and get there just in time to miss the VIP reception (damn, no free drinkies and A-List status canoodling). We did however, see the Chinese lion dancers lead the procession of Vippies to the main room. It was a very dramatic and fitting opening to the evening.

I was really looking forward to this night's event, as this non-profit group was celebrating their ten years of work in helping GLBT (and non-GLBT) Asians/Asian Pacific Islanders with HIV/AIDS. The food was great. I was surprised at the number of local politicians (two of which are being indicted for a local scandal) and people running for local office at the event. Many speeches were made toasting their success.

The highlight of the evening were the dancers (at least for me). There were dancers from various regions, the Phillipines, Tahiti, etc. The ones who caught my attention in particular were the Tahitian male dancers. They had long, gleaming dark hair, swinging freely as they moved about. Their muscular, well-defined bodies gleamed with the oil they had obviously rubbed on themselves. The outfit consisted of a white loincloth. The back was non-existent, with only a g-string in the back (naked bums woo hoo!) and a slip of cloth to cover the front. There were four of us girls at my table, and all of us were craning our heads to see there was anything else swinging freely underneath the loincloths. Sadly, it wasn't (mircro nude g-string). With the seductive beat of the drums frenetically pounding away, these four magnificent specimens expertly danced their tribal dance.

"Wow!" I whispered to my friend A during the performance. "Where did you get these guys? They seem very...athletic..."

She merely rolled her eyes. "I knew there was a reason why J (who is the organization director and is gay) picked this dance company," she replied wryly.

When the dance ended, the dancers received an enthusiastic round of applause and catcalls (admittiedly it was mostly from our table). I really enjoyed myself that night.

(And yes, to answer the question many have already asked, "And where was your husband?" He was there, rolling his eyes at me.)