An Ann-Margret impersonator sounded like an interesting bit of entertainment for the evening.

In reality, an Ann-Margret impersonator is rather hideous when it's a guy.

My aunt's surprise 60th birthday party for my uncle went off with just one hitch last night, that of the 6-foot-tall, sequined-dress-clad, penis-bearing Ann-Margret who, as part of his lip-synced act, got down on the dancefloor in front of Uncle Chic and proceeded to kick his legs in a scissor-like manner, exposing both his Anns and his Margrets to my cousin's wife, Kathleen. She immediately turned and covered her eyes in horror, but with a smile and a drunken laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Otherwise, it was a helluva night. Everybody - with the exception of "Andy-Margret," as he called himself - had a great time. Open bar, lots of good food, a few crazy relatives. My other cousin's boyfriend took 200 pictures of my uncle, my dad and the family from over the years and put them together in an extensive video presentation that needed four songs' worth of accompaniment.

Since the party was at the Elks' Club, where Uncle Chic and Aunt Donna tend bar, the only beer choices were Bud, Coors Light and Miller Lite - all in cans. Like a cheap dorm party. So after we'd consumed all the vodka we could handle, Casey, Jess and I left the party at 9:30 for Ichabod's and some tasty pints. I felt a little bad leaving, but without another drink, I was on my last legs anyway.

And it's painful, really, to have be under the same roof with Casey for a night but not be able to sleep beside her. We fell asleep on the pull-out couch, but when I woke up half an hour later, I groggily stumbled up to my bedroom and awoke to her smiling face the next morning, after she'd let the cat out.

And now it's raining outside, and probably turning to snow, and it's likely going to snow more up by my apartment than it will here, so I'll probably have to go back to the parents' house for the night rather than testing the roads at 1 a.m. That sucks, since I'm off the next two nights, but that's better than chancing it, and worrying a few people.

Damn, I need a new job.