And, she's spent.

But there's so much that needs to be said before I go.

This has been some ride, ladies and gents. Truly amazing.

I never would have believed I had this in me. I am long past the days of partying, staying up all night and seeing the day from sunrise to sunrise. But, here I am...and so many of you stayed with me through the night to help me reach this vision.

This goal was very important to me. Certainly foremost, because of the money we have just raised for the Pediatric AIDS Foundation. $1,245.00, People. Nothing to scoff at. That's substantial cash and will help the life and welfare of many children who might not have ever gotten a second chance had we not intervened.

The second reason was more personal.

My best friend, Norman Patton, died on August 11th of 2004. He was born on July 29th. I won't give you the year, because he'd bitchslap my ass. This blogathon was taking place on his birthday, and I couldn't think of a better way to honor him than by working for the cause he was so passionate about during his lifetime.

He died from AIDS related complications.

Norman had been sick for some time, but you would have never known it. He was a beautiful, gentle and loving soul. When my husband and I were having marital problems (yes, believe it or not, we weren't always this perfect couple you see before you), Norman took hold of my hands and told me....

"Babygirl. He's gonna be back with you. You know why? Because God wants you two together. He's coming home. And when he does, you two will never be apart again. God wants this for you, for him...for the kids. Give him time. He'll be home."

We had been married a hot three months and I was already contemplating divorcing him. He didn't cheat. That would be a dealbreaker. But he lied. A lot. He wasn't honest with me, himself or his family. But Norman was right. He came home. And true to his word, we have never been apart since. Norman could sense it. He knew. He had this sixth sense about people. He was enlightened. A peaceful soul with a freak flag that he loved to fly! He was all about the rainbows and puppies. He was the sun, moon, stars and gay bars. He was an absolute Diva and I envied how he lived. And then, instead of envying, I opted to emulate.

The man was not living with dying. He was just living. He knew his death was imminent, but he never dwelled on it. He never second-guessed God. He never pitied his misfortune. He never had a woe as me, defeated attitude. Instead, he took his life lesson to the streets and he taught. He educated. He spoke up and he spoke out. He lifted his voice to anyone who would listen.

AIDS is not something you die from, but rather, something you learn to live with. You go on. You don't bury your head. You don't give up. He reached upward and outward to those who were suffering physically and emotionally with this disease. He wouldn't let them degrade or belittle themselves.

When people gay-bashed, Norman didn't retort with anger. He taught. He educated. He did the best he could to make everyone understand that AIDS is not passed on by a handshake, a touch or even a gentle kiss. And if someone was real ornery, he would turn to the ugliest of souls and tell them...

"Shhhhhhhhhhh. Baby. God don't like ugly. Play nice."

Then, blow a perfunctory kiss in their direction.

It's hard for me living day to day without him. I loved him. Not in the fag hag Will and Grace sort of way...but genuinely, truly, affectionately. He was my friend. He was my best friend...and now, he is gone.

In a way, I feel that the past 24 hours have been a tribute to him. He would have loved this. He would have played right along with all the trivia. He would have admonished me for not wearing makeup all night long. He'd REALLY be ticked off about my hair. Shit. I haven't had a decent haircut since he died. Oh, and the stories he would have told you about me.

It's funny. I met Norman and the Hotband at the same point in my life. Both of them placed an indelible mark on my heart and soul. While I mourn one, I celebrate life with the other. My husband is an ever present reminder of the reason that Norman and I became best friends in the first place.

We were arguing with each other as to which one of us was going to sleep with him first.

I can't help but laugh at the memory.

And I got the best of both worlds. I got to keep both of them. Forever.

So, I want to thank all of you, each and every last one of you, for being by my side through the duration of this of this event. I thank those of you who supported me with calls, emails, messages, comments, etc. Even if you couldn't donate your money, you donated your time to help me accomplish the goal...and that's huge.

I thank you. I love you. I appreciate you.

I'm crying now. I'm not sure if it's the lack of sleep or the overwhelming emotion.

Regardless, each tear is joy. Absolute joy.

From my home to yours...may you always feel the gratitude, the humility and the humbling affection I am feeling from each of you right now. You did this for the children. You did this for me.

But best of all, you did this for yourselves. I was merely driving the car that you fueled.

This was grace, pure and true.



To sleep, perchance to dream...










Goodnight, Sweet Prince. Wherever you are.

I love you.