So, there was no bus, just a limo of my closest queens. Next to me was Scottie, who perpetuated the ruse by making fake phone calls and prepping me with disinformation about the night. All I wanted to do was stand out of the sky window and bare my breasts and was oblivious to the actual path of the limo which was not going toward Downtown. These guys planned this thing for six weeks without spilling the beans.




The Book (ten years of recently declassified photos) was a gift from Wire Magazine owner, Carl Zablotny. Hundreds of those photos played in a stream on the video screens; there was no escape from my past.




I caught Ramon and the staff from The Diner in the mirror looking at it.




No matter where you go, there is always some queen older and more knowledgeable about Carol Channing show tunes than you. Ricky made that abundantly clear.










For some reason I have always found myself in the company of military; perhaps it is a form of self-security. With Army Jeremy away, I found comfort and kisses from Coast Guard Keith, whom I've known for eight years here.




















No night about me would be complete without the presence of Miss Tiffany Fantasia Phillips. Tiff got me up on stage and alluded to the fact that two years ago Boris and I gave her a chance with the Saturday afternoon to do her thing and she did it just as well as I expected. She rules that day, now.




My resident members of Queen Cabaret, Fernand-D-Cute and Geraldine lent their talents, too.



Everyone knows that What Ever Happened To Baby Jane is one of my favorite movies, so while the monitors played the movie...


...Fernand-D-Cute performed it.

There couldn't have been a better-planned evening.