What a blast! Saturday evening boasted a glitterati of local fabulistas all joined together to raise funds for HIV/AIDS at the annual DIVA event held at the International Market Square and directed by the uber sexy Mark Durkop, a man with many talents, not limited to production creation. (That man CAN create a production). It caught me off guard, however. After entering I was whisked to a separate corner with Robert and boom, lights, camera "you're ON!" Suddenly I left my body thinking, "Am I on the red carpet?"

Standing with cordless microphone in front of a mini DV Camera were Shop NBC's Brian Kessler and Wendy Russo. I assumed this was some sort of promotional video that would be edited for DIVAMN. Quickly I snapped into "on camera" man.

"Who are you wearing," (What? Am I in Los Angeles? Who cares?)

"Valentino...on sale."

See, I'm a complete Minnesotan at heart. I avoided actually going into that it was originally $1195.00 and I got it for $391.00" at Saks Off Fifth.

"Who is Robert wearing?"

I searched and read aloud inside the jacket, but, to be honest, I still don't know "who" he was wearing. And I bought it. You can see how important designer names are to me.

Then the banter got racy. Which, of course I love, and can take about as far as anyone shouldn't. But I figured, hey, it will all be edited out. It's just a mini DV camera.

Off we proceeded into the main auditorium where, up on a huge screen was, for the entire village of onlookers, the "live camera" interview, on which, I had just revealed a bit too much. I was approached throughout the evening being told I was entertaining.

"What did I say," I rehashed.

Onward to cocktails, of course. Soon everyone I could hope to see was around the next corner. And as happens at many events, I drink easily, eat rapidly, and talk ad infinitum without edit. Typically, as the evening progressed I become enamored with breasts. I mean they were out in full force for this event, and I'm always curious as to how they are being encased, if they are real, and must, therefore, investigate. Usually met with indifference, I occasionally take unexpected, and perhaps unappreciated, liberty. I think FM 107's Lori Barghini's bustorama celebration was most intriguing. She is known for her use of "chicken cutlets" to enhance her décolleté, but Saturday night it had to be more than just rubber. I had to wonder how she created such natural and inviting maximization. She was over me at the third probing.

Project Runway's Jack Mackenroth was adorably bitchy as only he can be. He makes it work somehow.

"Hello, Lady," was his greeting to me.

"Lady? I prefer "sir,"

"In your dreams, sir."

Uh huh. Yours too honey.

Then waltzes in Minneapolis/St. Paul Magazine Life and Style editor,Jayne Haugen Olson in a fabulous, and I apologize for the use of the word, but it really was, metallic brocade gown, halter neckline, pleated full skirt from the waist to the ankle, with stunning T-strap sparkling sandals on manicured feet. I bumped her martini into her cleavage. Well, ok, cleavage. But felt the need to personally mop up the spill. With my tongue. I'm always there to help. Jayne, undaunted, didn't miss a beat and kept on talking.

Her husband Curt was not there, but would have been amused. I'm so not a threat.

Next, Julia Cobbs: FM 107's kick to the sidekick of Lori Barghini, looked hot in her brightly colored silk halter and low rise black slacks, hip belt and heels. Truly radiant. And I don't say that word easily. And I like the opportunity to give Julia a hard time, but honestly, couldn't find a thing to give her a hard time about. Damn. Moving on.

Billy Beason, who I intentionally hang around with, just so I don't appear intoxicated in comparison, always looks put together. He manages to pull off looks that I could not. We chatted about cosmetic procedures and liposuction. I've done it, he hasn't. Stay tuned.

Todd Flinginger, Neiman Marcus' style guru and personal shopper extraordinaire was adorable in a black suit (I don't remember labels, but you can be sure it was "someone"). His black and white floral silk shirt open one extra button, gave him that sexy, swarthy, mafia man with plans later.

Book end gay couples abounded. There was Jason and John, Todd and Jeffrey, Keith and...I forgot his name. Oh every Tom, Dick and Harry walked hand in hand and, it was just great. Great because I do believe this is one of the few times I've mingled and mixed with a mixed and mingled crowd completely unconscious of my spousal equivalent rapport. I am from a time when you looked over your shoulder before touching. Sometimes before eye contact. I didn't even think to look. There were too many pairs of breasts to study.

The show. Fabulous. Could go on an on, but I would not do it justice.

Sunday morning I awoke with that familiar feeling. I tell myself I'm just hung over, and that I really wouldn't have done anything THAT embarrassing. Still, the feeling didn't go away. I didn't drink and dial. I didn't drink and email. I didn't drink and drive. But I keep getting glimpses of breasts and my discussion of them. So to Lori, Julia, Jessica and her friend, Jayne, Kate, Carol and the girl in the dominatrix outfit with the corset that celebrated lift, if I said anything inappropriate...

Don't worry. It won't be the last time.