I spent another day at yet another industry meeting in bloody Philadelphia again. Those Daughters of the Revolution ought to offer up a key for all the time I have to log in their fair city. I came into Philly in the morning to meet product managers (as a technical "dry run") for the big "Depends don't fail me now" roll out for this corporate web initiative. As I indicated recently, the build up for this big event worries me not..at.. all. I think worry, for the most part, is over rated anyway. I'm still thinking like Mr. Pink--without the overbite.

Anyway, if the meeting today is any indication, the launch will be just jake and everyone will love us. I journeyed back to the City on the usual hellride that is the 5:56 Amtrak commuter to Manhattan (in yet another boisterous "quiet car"). I had to grab a subway home, pack, do the odd chores, feed the cat, decided to forgo dinner, and maybe..I dunno..get an hour or two of sleep before the car to the airport shows up at 5 am. The Queen Bee called me at 9 pm--she's already preordered the Bloody Marys for our flight. Thank Christ we're traveling together.

Besides the blood, sweat and tears poured into preparing for the business portion of this meeting, we have to plan the few hours left to us to let our hair down. There isn't much free time but what we do have, we play. And hard. There will be a whole lot of steam that will need to be blown off.

I took charge of planning the Saturday night out at Tepitina's which initially started with me and the Queen but has now swelled to a group of ten people. The online people all want to come--they're animals. I've already indicated that I will do some table dancing so I have promised to document that. Lucky you.

In addition, Mamela got very excited by the Dog Whisperers' suggestion we attend a cooking class at The New Orleans School of Cooking. We have a few spare hours on Saturday morning and that's where we're going--a gang of seven now--to learn to cook jambalaya and pralines and dirty rice. And well, all the beer you can drink. Mamela said, "Beer? At 10 am?" and don't you know, some smart ass said, "It's always noon somewhere." No, it wasn't me.

And since my diet is going to obviously be on the Express Bus to Hell on this trip, I may have to indulge a real cheat and take advantage of yet another recommendation of The Dog Whisperer. This is a little place known for their fried chicken called The Praline Connection. Dog Whisperer said that when she and Hollaback Girl went there, they just missed Bill Clinton. That clinched the deal for me (oh yes, Mr. Clinton is on my "I'd fuck him" list).

Finally, one of the drones that works for The Queen Bee, always prepares a very thorough memo for these kinds of meeting. She outlines every possible detail that we need to be aware of for any posisble mishap. The memo for this meeting clearly indicated she knows the level of mischief the Queen and I are capable of when we get together..and it does bears repeating. At the end of many pages of logistics, she included the following bullet points (and I quote):

-Do not lift your shirt to get cheap beads. This is childish and you can both afford better jewelry.

-If a man approaches you about snow or ice. RUN. He is not talking about the weather or a coolant for a beverage. He is trying to sell you coke or crystal meth.

-Do not let strangers touch your hair. You have seen enough movies to know that Voodoo is real. Need I remind you of "The Skeleton Key?"

-Finally, If you need a bail bondsman, please call....(and here she list the phone numbers of a local bail bonds company).

Oh, yeah. I got the camera.


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