The problem with going big as one gets older is the day-after repercussions grow exponentially.

Saturday was so chock-full of events, fun, and sips in the City of Destiny, that my head didn’t hit the pillow ‘til 5 am yesterday.

And yes, it hurts, today.

Our group was off to a late start due, in part, to my costuming issues. I wanted to stride the line between vamp and trash, equally at home at an erotic arts event and an '80s-based prom, yet suitable for a singles wine tasting event.

Yeah, tall order.

So there we were, standing around with shots of tequila at cultured friend’s house, waiting to figure out what we were doing about transpo.  Her husband saved the day, and dropped us off at Vin Grotto, where Heath Delaney amused and amazed us with his magic antics.  Without giving too much away, let me just say he does this pin-swallowing thing that will either gross you out or impress the heck out of you (possibly, both?) and he’s kind of a mind-reading card trickster.  New friend Emily was trying to figure out how he did the tricks, but I think she left wondering.

We all left wondering how the heck we’d make it up the hill to Kulture Lab â€" it was late, and we were getting there at the tail end of what was, by all accounts, an amazing event.  We caught a ride from the magician himself, and mingles amongst the thinning crowd, bummed that we missed the Glamazon Babes’ drag show.

Even more bummer, Jim Price’s news that there will only be two more Kulture Labs.  “But we will emerge again,” Price proclaimed: “ Like the mighty Phoenix.”

And, one couldn’t help but have one’s hopes buoyed by the titillating sights all around: with the exception of the sausage-and-alfalfa sprout (scary-real-looking) phallus on the treat table, there wasn’t a whole lot of male art around, though there was one piece with a butterfly that I was particularly fond of.

Above the stage, “vintage porn” was projected, though I liked Vin Grotto owner Kris Blondin’s description better: “Sloppy booby porn!”

On many other televisions, various sex-charged images were flashed, and then there it was: “The Volcano.” 

Heee.

Turned out, the Volcano represented at the Tempest, and my friends, including Kris, culture babe, Patty, Emily and I shared a table with Pappi Swarner, Brad Allen, their muy caliente dates, Natasha, Julie, Tabitha, new friend Kake, old friend Houston, and many more new friends than I have virtual ink to mention.  With so much love surrounding me, I had to steal the moment as mine, mine, mine, and celebrate my b-day two days early. 

Patty wanted to go see if he could find a couple of cute boys to look at, so we went off to Club Silverstone before last call â€" man, are they serious about last call being The Last Call â€" hence, we only stayed a wee bit before heading out to after-hours it up at Roland and Cheri’s.

Such a good end to the night!

You know it’s truly late when Teddy Haggarty has been tucked away to bed in the bedroom nook-bed and you’re still standing; Tab took me home and I hit my own pillow with a smile on my lips as I whispered, “I heart Tacoma.” â€" Jessica Corey-Butler