Perfect long weekend: Saturday

I've slept in. Difficult for me as I've actually become a morning person. But today is a special day and I've needed my beauty rest. I have much lounging to do before I get to the serious fluffing and buffing.

Tonia and I started dating three years ago and tonight we will celebrate our spicysweet love with sexy outfits, serious heels and martinis. Party girls that we are we have a history of actually having too much fun* so we decide to make it a relatively early night and limit our drinks to two at the bar and one later at Tonia's.

I spend the morning in barefeet, dawdling around the cool interior of my home, tidying clothes, making sure my outfit works, digging through shoes and purses. These remain spilling out of suitcases in the basement because I have yet to create a home for them. I snatch the sultry black high heels that my friend Keely gave me last summer.

Keely: "Hey Lizzie, you want these shoes? I got them in L.A. They KILL my feet."

Me: "Ohmigod, YEAH. Thanks honeybunch!"

Several lattes later I'm in the shower. It's fantastic and I almost drain the hotwater tank. It's a full-on prettygirl shower in which every part of my body receives some form of punishment or pampering.

I am nervous. I only find out later that Tonia has been as well. I'm in a white linen skirt through which my thighs are completely discernible and a tight black microfibre halter. I LOVE what this top does for my breasts. The shoes are downright gorgeous and I am wearing silver dangly earrings, my solid silver cuff bracelet and two simple silver rings. I spend a frightful few minutes in front of my mirrored closet door wondering if I look like a call-girl.

I arrive at Tonia's with the barest overnight necessities and a gift in a shiny silverblue bag. Before she answers the door I hear the bells she's recently been wearing around her ankles. She opens the door dressed in a white linen sundress-style dress, feet bare, hair loose. She's dropdead sexy.

Dressed in our finest we head to the Village. Not that we really need the gaybourhood particularly or that we don't like to party in the straight world; it's just that we can relax more here, look sexy, hold hands and kiss without actually putting ourselves in personal peril. A slice of PizzaPizza pizza before martinis may not sound that hot to begin an anniversary date but considering our history** we decide some food before alcohol is the smartest thing to do. Hence the hottest.

Byzantuim is THE place for martinis now that Babylon is closed and we find a sexy little nook out on the patio. Fabric throw-cushions on white benches, glass table, and we ease into soft banter while the waiter fetches round one—The Blackout. Stoli, Black Sambuca, and Jagermeister. It's a righteously delicious martini. Thankfully it's mostly finished before something drops into my glass from the treetops high above our patio nest. We peer into my glass and start to giggle. Oh, do NOT tell me that something is bird droppings!

Round two includes espresso and Créme de Cacao but no poop and we're both that nice kind of tipsy when we climb into a cab.

One more martini and we're kissing; one hand up her dress and we're in bed. Tonia is holding my skirt in her left hand. "Are you wearing this tomorrow?"

"No."

She drops it to the floor and we giggle some more. Within moments there's white linen and lace panties all over her bedroom.




* So much fun that when it comes to the lovemaking part we're too exhausted. This has happened on numerous occasions. It's a crime against sexiness everywhere.

** See note supra.