Since I had on such a complete disguise I felt liberal with my actions and tried to cause as much of a sensation as possible as the tart of the party. I wore a blond wig and half mask that looked like Joni Mitchell being forced to drink molten lead by father Satan. It was complemented by a boys blue shirt with applied spiraling upturned tits, psychedelic shorts and work boots. I refused to identify myself when asked. Jason and Jenny showed up in costume so half way through the evening we went back to my place for a break and on my return I decided to stick a small pillow up the front of my shirt and make yet a second entrance as a pregnant tart. "Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I shouldn't party!!!" I yelled, martini glass in hand, bursting through the kitchen door.

I went immediately to the dance floor and started dancing censoriously with Katherine the Director, who I will say was in costume because she was not wearing black. She danced and smiled nervously and kept saying "who are you." I would not reveal my identity, but said she might have recognized me before I got knocked-up in the Headlands parking lot. One of the guest chefs, a woman with an eastern European accent and black horn rimmed glasses, cornered me and said, "Take off that mask, I have to know who you are!" I again refused but I relinquished that I had met her. She looked at me closely and then said "You are not the computer nerd from Ohio?" I said, "Not tonight."