I just mopped the floor, three times. I’m not a mopper. But when I dragged myself out of bed this morning at 11 there was a quarter inch of mud in the kitchen, producing tentacalling mud trails through the living room to the front door and the bathroom and my bedroom, which last night was a coat room. We had a pretty rocking party.

This latest fundraising effort was born last month when Julie, Talley, Melissa, Adrienne and I were having margaritas. The idea of a keg party came up. A keg party in our backyard to capitalize on the newly nice weather. Something with a theme. We discussed the potential of pirates, luaus, and barbeques, until Talley came up with the brilliantly transparent Sex Sells.

It seemed impossibly easy. As Ty put it, “Guys show up for tits and ass.” And when Eugene’s six months of rain finally end, girls are happy to oblige.

Talley and John got the keg of Terrapin. Julie promoted endlessly and recruited Kevin to DJ. Melissa and I hit the dollar store for Blow Pops and Ring Pops and candy necklaces and all manner of other vaguely sinister edibles. We shrouded the washer/dryer in purple velvet.
The main obstacles were Memorial Day Weekend traveling, and a rival party thrown by some architecture students. Surprisingly the rain worked in our favor on the first count, as camping plans were cancelled. The archies were another matter. We called to see if they would throw their partygoers our way later in the evening. They mocked our beer charge and explained that the architects would be staying at the architecture party, not wasting time at the landscape architecture party. Granted, this probably had less to do with actual assholeness than with one of the hosts lusting unsuccessfully after Melissa a few months ago, but whatever. For the record: You Guys Suck.

Happily, our friends turned out in style, and brought their friends with them. Girls in boas and guys in leather filled our dance floor. Lemon drops were downed. Malibu was sipped. Julie sold raffle tickets out of her bra - the only thing she was wearing besides a trench coat and heels. Newlyweds Sarah and Hans sported three flavors of animal print between them. John tangoed. A cowboy hat made rounds.

Amidst the general debauchery, there was crazy support and cheering for the running and for the cause. I heard more about the marathon Sarah ran in Kenya. I met Molly, who did an event with Team in Training in San Francisco - her dad passed away from leukemia. I talked with Drew about the cross-country bike ride he is planning for this summer. He wants to get corporate sponsors and raise $25,000 for cancer research. These are the people I have been crossing paths with via my asinine decision back in January.

Kevin spun until four in the morning. For the last half hour it was just him, me, Melissa, and a couple of our good friends, and he kept going anyway. The six of us danced around to the blaring music in the big empty room. We pulled out Talley’s birthday carrot cake, Julie fell asleep on the sofa, and we called it a night. I went to bed as the sky got light. Wahoo.