How many men out there can't tie a damned tie? I worked back in college part time at a retail department store called Yonkers. I think they were eventually bought out by Dillards back in the 80's. One of the things that we were required to know how to do, is to tie a tie. Even more then one variation. What? You mean there's more then ONE way?
I never had to be taught how, because my Father showed me how to do it myself. It's not hard. A simple under, over, up and through. Simple as that. I would have to say that 75% of the men that would come into the store back then, couldn't do it. I would have to help them. I would always try and show them how to do it for themselves. They would try and fumble, cussing all the while. Never really getting it. I would even have men come into the store to buy a shirt and tie, make me tie it for them and slip it off so they wouldn't have to re-tie it themselves. Does their mommy still wipe their butts for them too?
This morning Brian has a 3rd interview with a company here in Dallas. Here's a man who has a degree in information technology. A geek in every sense of the word. Our home is full of techy, geeky, nerdy things. He can take apart a computer and rebuild it. He can sit and debug a computer that's having problems. When we got our new flat screen, he sat for a few hours and hooked up the TV, stereo, speakers, cable, dvr, dvd and the Roku wireless doohicky that pulls information from your computer to play through your system. We have 7 remote controls that require a college degree to manipulate, but Brian and work them like a pro. I've sat there for an hour trying to play a dvd. I was almost to the point of tears when I wanted to play a cd on it a couple days ago.
He's a smart cookie, I tell ya.
He will talk in nerdspeak while we're roaming through Comp USA or Frye's Computer Store and I stand there with a glazed look upon my face. I stand there tying his tie for him this morning and he literally stands there with his mouth hanging open, with his head cocked to the side like a dog does when they hear a funny noise. The same time he's making the hand motions with me as I tell him the steps. Cross, over, under, up and through.
He just looks at me and says, "Good thing I have you around forever so you can tie all my ties for me" I slipped off the tie and placed it on him.
"That's fine dear. I'll just make sure you're around forever so you can hold my hand while I try to turn the TV on, change the channel and change all the settings so I can watch a movie and listen to a cd."
I might be technotarded, but at least I can tie a tie.
Sunday is fast approching. Hard to believe that it's almost October already. Can anyone tell me where in the hell this year has gone? I guess when life is good and our schedules keep us busy, time tends to fly before our eyes.
Back in July, I started raising money for this years Dallas AIDS Arms LifeWalk which occurs on October 1st, 2006. This is something that I've done pretty much every single year that I've been living here in Dallas. A couple years of me not feeling well kept me from doing anything.
Every year I make set myself up with a personal goal and every year that goal is achieved. The last few years, especially since I've been blogging, I have raised those goals substantially and every single year I am totally amazed at my friends, family and my extended blogfamily's generosity. This year was no exception.
I set a goal of $1500. This goal was up a few hundred dollars from last year. I would not only reach my goal this year, but surpass it by $990. My total as of today is $2490!
There's still not a day that goes by where it hits me that Michael is gone. There's not one day that goes by I don't stop and think about our past, how we met, what we've experienced or his last few days. Certain images will never be removed from my head. There are days where I wish I could get those last few days images wiped from my memory.
Then I stop and tell myself that I should never forget. None of us should. Maybe one of these days, we won't have to have AIDS Walks.
For everyone that donated this year, I wanted to say Thank You one more time.
Your generosity and your caring mean so much to me.
This is one of those posts where I should have just sat down last night and did a little videocast. Just because it helps to hear it and writing it down can be a bit difficult. I could have sat down and done this last night, but I was just too fricken tired. After getting to bed around 2:30am and up around 7am, I was a too pooped for words.
We have this new guy here at work. He's a developer/programmer/computernerd. I was standing in the breakroom last Thursday and in walks this 6'3", nicely built, blonde headed, blue eyed Russian with the thickest accent I've ever heard. His name is Serge. As I'm getting water with my back to him, he walks up behind me and proudly and loudly says, "I'm Serge! I'm your new co-worker. I'm a new developer!" He kind of caught me off guard. I politely introduced myself and welcomed him to our little family here at *insertcompanyname*.
So cute I thought. I'm not normally a tall, blonde, slender, hairless type of guy. Take one look at my wonderful hubby. Short, stocky, hairy, bald, goatee. That's my type of man and I was lucky enough to snag my perfect type 2.5 years ago. Yet there was something about this guy that made you kind of swoon. He's not beautiful. Just kind of exotic. It must be the really thick accent. Who knows.
As I was walking out of the room, in walked a few other co-workers. He greated them immediately with the same enthusiasm, saying exactly the same thing. "I'm Serge! I'm your new co-worker. I'm a new developer!" Later on that afternoon, the group here had cake for my birthday. In walks Serge and immediately announces to the entire group "I'm Serge! I'm your new co-worker. I'm a new developer!". I swear you could hear the group of girls inhale. I had to giggle. It seems the new Russian guy is a hit.
Later that day before leaving, I was handed a birthday card from the entire building. Little words scribbled at the bottom stated: "Happy Birthday from your new co-worker Serge!!!"
Somehow, I don't think I'll ever forget his name or that he's a co-worker.
In other news and getting back to someone who's IS my total type, we found out that Brian has been accepted to take on the new project located in San Diego. Bad thing is the hours are going to be Monday through Friday and often requiring him to possibly work on weekends for the first 6 weeks. When he can come home, we'll only have a day and a half together on the weekends. After that, he will go back to a Monday through Thursday schedule. It seems I might get my trip out to San Diego in November to see him.
This is what I get for making a big joke about wanting a trip.
My wish came true for a trip, but at the cost of not seeing my hubby much for the first 6 weeks.
I should keep my damn mouth shut.
We arrived a little late last Thursday then we had originally planned. My flight was on time and had no problems. Brian's flight on the other hand had some maintenance issues and was delayed a few hours. Nothing like starting off the trip a little behind. We were too tired and it was too late to really do anything so we chatted with Victor and Tony before crashing in bed. We wanted to get up bright and early the next day.
We walked down to the corner for breakfast before heading to the Castro to look around. Nothing much is going on and not much is open at 9am on a Friday. After showing me the "center of the universe" we walked back home to get the car and drove around the city for most of the day. When we go on a trip anywhere, we usually don't have any sort of set in stone plans. We get up, hop in the car and just go. We drove all over the city, stopping at points of interest. We went to the ocean, the twin peaks for a view of the city, the Golden Gate Bridge and the Exploratorium. We drove around various neighborhoods and just enjoyed soaking up the city.
Around 4pm we headed back to get cleaned up and met the boys out for drinks in the Castro. As usual, I over dressed and felt uncomfortable half the night. We went to The Edge, Moby Dicks and Daddy's, running into a few people here and there that we knew from Dallas. We all got a little tipsy so we soaked it all up with some Italian food before heading back home. Damn you have to walk a lot in that city. My feet still hurt.
Saturday the boys took us down town in hopes of me finding some glass galleries and to see the downtown area. There was a Love Parade going on. Hey, the straight people have to have their crazy, half naked parades too. We walked around, had some lunch and headed back after a few hours. Brian and I spent part of the afternoon walking around the Castro to do some leather shopping. That city has more leather shops then any place I've seen.
Later that night Victor took us out to the Lone Star and Powerhouse. Being that it was Folsom weekend, the bars were so packed you could hardly move. We had a great time anyways. My liver was starting to feel a twinge.
Sunday we spent most of the morning trying to decide what type of leather we were going to wear. I was fitted with a full harness and wrist bands and Brian had on a leather vest, chaps with his ass hanging out and a rubber cod piece. He was so sexy.
I can't begin to tell you how freaky, bizarre and wonderful the Folsom Street Fair is. You can tell from the photo's what all there is to look at. Add tons of porn stars, booths and flogging demonstrations and there you have it. Our dicks were pulled out of our pants on more then one occasion. Not that we minded at all. All in the spirit of Folsom, right? We spent most of the afternoon drinking and chatting with various people. We ran into so damn many people from Dallas. We ended up at The Eagle for more drinking. People were getting more wild and handsy by the minute. By the time it was getting dark Brian and I headed over to Lone Star. For those that were there, you missed a little "show" in the back patio.
Hey what happens at Folsom, stays at Folsom.
By 9pm we couldn't take much more and had to head out. We spent most of Monday doing last minute shopping and driving around the city before heading to the airport. Brian's flight was ok this time, but my flight was cancelled due to maintenance issues with the plane. We boarded a new plane two hours later and that plane was brought back from the runway to the gate due to maintenance issues as well. I didn't get home until after midnight. By the time I got my luggage and grabbed my car, I didn't make it home until 1:30am. I'm a little tired this morning.
I have a feeling this won't be our last trip to San Francisco. Especially during Folsom.
Again, thank you so much Victor and Tony for such a great time.
We can't even begin to tell you how much fun we've had this weekend and how wonderful our host Victor and Tony were. We're still in San Francisco, organizing our suitcases and uploading photo's before heading out to enjoy the Castro one last time before flying home. I'll update tomorrow with more details about our weekend, but in the mean time I thought I would give you a taste of what Folsom was like.
Link to Folsom Street Fair 2006 is definately NSFW.
Full update tomorrow.
Well, the day has finally arrived. Forty One years ago today I fell from my Mothers vagina. She still hates the thought of having a 41 year old "baby". I'm her youngest and she's always about 3-4 years off on my age when we talk on this day. She's still in denial.
I am what was called an "Oops Baby!" by my family. My parents were not having any more children since losing a baby after my last brother. Ten years later, at the age of 38 my Mother gets pregnant. After finding out the "tumor" she had in her stomach was actually me. When my Father asked, "How in the hell did this happen?" "Ooops!", she said. Then she followed it up with, "Now don't be stupid, we've had 3 children already, you know this happened."
I used to not care much for Birthday's. They were just another day to me. The last few years, especially since I've met Brian have been some of the best I've ever had. I received my first phone call today from a very good friend whom I don't see much lately. Minutes following, my hubby sang Happy Birthday to me. I arrive to work with a decorated cube. Thank goodness they didn't use black balloons and crepe paper. This afternoon I'll be on a plane to San Francisco, to meet up with Brian.
I couldn't ask for a better day.
I hope everyone has a great weekend. I'm sure to come back with lots of stories, pictures and video of this coming weekend. See you next Tuesday.
I'm torn. Brian's been dealing with some "not-so-nice" managers with this current consulting gig. Every consulting job you get through this company could have an array of different managers. Luckily, if you don't like the ones you have at the moment, you won't have them for the next one. They're requiring 12 hour days, weekends, schedule calls at 10pm at night, never provide the information you need to do your job correctly and are basically all around assholes. I sit and listen to him vent on occasion. More frequently lately.
He's been getting people contacting him, wanting him to apply for various other jobs around the U.S. This has all happened out of the blue this past month. The prospects of him finding something better are very high. Most of the jobs would have him located here in Dallas. Some require 50% travel unlike the 80% that he has now and others are actually based here in Dallas with absolutely no travel.
It's difficult, because I see how much he struggles pleasing the people he's working for. He's damn good at what he does. They're never happy. With anyone. He knows that within a month, he should be pulled off this project and put on another one with the same company. There were talks of him having a project in Dallas. We were both excited at this possibility. We can handle being apart, but it would be nice of course to have him here. My nights of sitting at home doing absolutely nothing for four days a week would stop, eating out where I want to eat would end, watching all the TV shows that I want to watch would never happen again, but I can make sacrifices just to have him here with me.
So I'm torn. Do we wait and see what he gets with his current company as his next project? Does he say 'fuck it' and try another company? A new company could be worse. You never know what you're getting yourself in to. You take a huge chance.
Then Brian called me this morning and told me that HR had contacted him and told him that they were trying to get him signed on with a new project in San Diego.
Bitch I am no longer torn. You just sit there and put up with the bullshit where you're at. Suck it up boy! It isn't so bad! It will be over before you know it.
Daddy needs a trip to San Diego.
Yesterday was a long day. After putting in my normal 8 to 9 hours worth of work at my job, I headed over to a research center for a couple hours. No, I didn't donate blood or sperm for some whacked out experiment. I didn't sit there and subject myself to pokes, prodes, needles and tubes. Although poking and prodding can be nice. I participated in a marketing research whateveryoucallit, where you sit there for two hours and give your opinion on various subjects. Tonights subject was car advertising. They wanted to know where we get most of our information before making a car purchase. Internet, brochures, dealerships, car shows. Eventually we figured out it was how to better market a car through brochures.
Not the most exciting topic, but I can be opinionated on pretty much anything.
Two hours and some good cash thrown at you. I can handle that. This is only my second one. Brian gets called for them all the time. You don't always qualify, but if you learn how to answer the questions right, you can pretty much get accepted for most of them.
Max was happy to see me by the time I made it home late. He was so damn excited, he decided to rip the plant apart and throw dirt everywhere. I was too tired to even care by that point. I just took his happy ass outside, came back in to clean up his mess and headed upstairs.
I made a phone call to Victor. I figured after three years of emailing each other back and forth it was about time we spoke to each other on the phone at least. I would have hated to show up at his doorstep on Thursday without having ever uttered one word to each other.
Do you ever have that fear that when you pick up the phone and call a fellow blogger for the first time that there's going to be this lull in a conversation? That you'll have nothing to talk about? Hell, these people read you almost every day. They know everything about you and what you do on a daily basis already. What's there to talk about?
Little things like this go through my mind, causing mini-panic attacks. Reason why I often sit and stare at the phone, wanting to make the call, but don't. I hate talking on the phone, but know that I have to. I've had conversations with Homer, Tunagirl, RED (which reminds me, I have to call him back), Palochi, Crash and a host of other bloggers. Every conversation turns out great, like you're talking to a long lost friend. You connect on a different level for the first time. Same thing happened with Victor.
I don't know why I worry so much.
I honestly don't even know where to begin. Why is it during Pride weekend, everyone wants to go out and drink all the time? Here I'm supposed to be saving my liver for next weekend and I've been out more times this weekend then I have in the past 2 months.
Friday night Brian and I, along with our friends Kelly and Craig decided to go out for some mexican food and then a movie. Craig was pretty loopy after two of their Everclear and Tequilla Margs. I suggested we just go out for a few drinks instead and bypass seeing a movie that none of us would agree on anyways. After hanging out at JR's and then Mickey's, we decided to take them to the "other" mini-gayborhood bars away from the strip. We started off at Bill's Hideaway. Bill's is a piano, cabaret bar showcasing some amazing local talent. After hearing a jazz version of Donna Summer's Last Dance, we walked next door to Zippers, known as a trashy bar with hot strippers. We were getting pretty lit by this point. I see strippers and dollar bills fly out of my pants. I ran into Brian a reader who lives here and is from Nebraska as well. It's always nice meeting people through the blog.
Thank goodness we left before I had a chance to lick Hector's bubble butt and slap a dollar bill on his ass. We walked across the street after that to Crew's Inn. The strippers might be hung and full of muscles, but they were rude as hell. We ignored them and danced instead. Thank God we went home after that. I was beat.
Saturday we to Max to his weekly outing at the Dog Park, grabbed some lunch, then headed home to get ready to go see Del Shores, Southern Baptist Sissies. For those of us like Brian and myself, this play hit home. I was expecting a full on comedy. Although it was hilarious in places, the play was quite dramatic and had us crying by the end. For anyone who was raised Southern Baptist, Pentecostal, Church of Christ or any othe rreligion like this, should see this play if they get the chance. Brian and I have been made fun of growing up in the Church. Even until this day I get asked if we ever handled snakes, rolled down the isles and danced on the pews. Add trying to battle accepting yourself as Gay into the mix and that makes for a pretty screwed up kid. We could relate to every single Sissy in the play on some level.
That night we went over to our friend Ken's house to try on all his leather. We got to meet his new hubby and his hubby's ex boyfriend who I could sit and listen to all day long. He was some hot fireman from Boston. I wanted to hear him say Sparkling Water over and over. You can see the pictures of us on the previous post. It took everything in us to get a serious look on our face for the pictures. Yes, we giggled a lot and fumbled with how to put certain items on.
We got a call from Mama Starlett asking us to meet him at The Eagle since we were already in leather. So we chickened out, took it all off and went out dressed in jeans and a t-shirt instead. We weren't ready for our Leather Debut in public. It was an odd night. At one point, some hot couple was providing Brian with poppers. He's never done them before. All I saw was his little wobbly head and a big grin on his face. There was a really hot guy hanging with us. He wanted someone to treat him as if he'd been a really bad boy. Brian and I just giggled and Mama took him home. At one point in the evening I was getting flirted with by two really hot guys that we all know. Everyone in town practically knows them. While the one was draping his arm over me while he talked, I kept getting this faint smell of something rank. Once he finally left, my shoulder was permanently scarred with the smell of his armpit. I swear I couldn't get it to wash off. Now a manly sort of funk I like, but this boy had stinky B.O that could kill a horse. I told our friend to smell my shoulder and he screamed like a little girl.
Few minutes later, another friend of ours walks by. He's extrememly beautiful and built like a brick shithouse. He had his shirt off for the first time that I've ever seen. When he walked up to us, I complimented him on how incredible he looked. He proceeds to break down and cry. I think he has some self-esteem issues. Extreme ones. That was our cue to call it a night.
Sunday was our Gay Pride. Dallas celebrates it at a different time then the rest of the entire country. Every single year I've been here, Pride has been hot, humid and sunny. Not this year. We stood in the rain under umbrella's watching crepe paper floats turn to mush, drag queens hair turn frizzy and mascara run down their cheeks. A normal 3 hour parade was done in an hour and a half. They rushed through it like crazy. Due to the shitty day all of us decided to head to The Door for the beer bust. It not only sprinkled, but started a downpour which caused us all to hover under the awnings and drink cheap beer.
I'm never drinking again.
Well, until next weekend.
Take a long hard look. You probably might not ever get the chance to see us dressed like this again.
Unless you show up in San Francisco for Folsom.
Work has been testing my patience and my sanity. My blood pressure was 141/101 on Wednesday when decided to stroll into Walgreens Pharmacy to check it.
Max has been testing my patience all week as well. He's being rebellious. He's even decided that plants are a wonderful thing to shred and eat. Not to mention digging in the dirt is a blast too.
I've lost the ability to sleep from my normal 10:30pm to 7am. Lately I can't fall asleep until 1am and I'm awake around 5-6am.
I'm glad that Brian is home. Work has been "challenging" this past couple weeks. He's been getting people calling him left and right to come to their company. Maybe he should take one of them instead.
This weekend is our version of Gay Pride. The Alan Ross Freedom Parade. Humid and 95 degrees is the expected forecast, with a touch of rain. Should be a great parade.
Going to see the play, Southern Baptist Sissies on Saturday. Anything Del Shores writes is hilarious. Remember Sordid Lives?
Want to remind anyone who wants to donate to my participation in the 2006 AIDS Life Walk have until October 1st to do so. Thanks again to all have donated so far.
For anyone wanting to hook up with Brian and I during our time in San Francisco, please send me an email and we can exchange cell numbers. Would be great to see a few people while we're there tearing up the city. We'll be arriving on Thursday the 21st, which is my 41st Birthday. Why does 41 sound worse then 40? We'll be leaving on Monday the 25th in the afternoon.
Enjoy your weekend. I know I'm ready for mine.
Over the weekend, while we were standing on the patio of The Door sipping a few beers, I noticed a guy I hadn't seen in quite some time. He's the Ex of my friend Michael who passed away a few months ago. The last time I had seen him was at a pool party during the beginning of the Summer. I hadn't seen him at that time for almost ten years. The day he walked out of Michaels life.
Their relationship was an odd one to say the least. Michael was his normal overbearing, over protective, posessive personality. John, as I will refer to him, was a very sweet, quiet, unassuming type of guy. Very handsome in that alternative sort of way. Always had some odd form of facial hair hanging off of his chin.
As with any one of Michaels boyfriends, it didn't take long for the relationship to start taking wrong turns. Despite Michael being a very loving and caring person, he had his faults. He was extremely jealous, demanding and required a lot of attention. One of the reasons we never lasted very long as lovers. I'm surprised at times we lasted as long as we did, as friends.
Their drinking had become something of legend. Night after night, tearing up the local gayborhood bars. Coming home to long nights of wild sex which I was forced to sit and listen to most of the time with a pillow over my head. The sounds of whipping and slapping could be heard from the bedroom. Michael once came out of the bedroom and grabbed a box of plastic wrap from the kitchen. He told me his boyfriend wanted to be wrapped up completely like a mummy. I found out later on that they were into more then that. There probably wasn't one thing the boy wasn't interested in doing sexually. I mean anything.
It wasn't until John got invited to go to the Hellfire Club in Chicago did things take a turn for the worse. Jealousy raged, fist were thrown, yelling commenced, objects were thrown. The last and final fight happened when my best friend Jim was in town visiting Dallas for a job interview. In a fit of rage during their last fight, John grabbed an enormous terracotta pot and knocked if off the balcony, landing on the hood of Jim's car.
Nice way to end your stay in Dallas. John never apologized or even try to pay for the damaged. He just left and we never saw him again.
When I ran into John at the pool party a while back we only chatted for a couple minutes. He had moved back into town. He asked about Michael and I told him he hadn't been doing well and was staying in Hospice. He told me to tell him Hi and that he was asking about him. I did just that. Michaels eyes lit up when I told him. John was one of the three past boyfriends that Michael wanted to make an amends with before he died. He was only able to talk to two of them. He didn't get a chance to talk to John.
When I saw him at The Door this past Sunday, we immediately started talking. He's grown up a lot. Little bit heavier, lost some of his hair, yet still had some funky chin hair. But you could tell he had definately matured. After exchanging a few pleasantries, he said "So how is...."
I didn't even let him finish.
"Michael passed away July 1st", I blurted out. We both stood there, looking at each other without saying a word. He looked down, forehead creasing. Neither one of us said anything for a moment. I could tell he wanted to cry, but was doing everything to hold it in. Finally I said, "He asked how you were doing John. You were one of a few people in his life he wanted to apologize to before he passed away. He feels he ruined some peoples lives and wanted to make things right."
"Thats nice to hear", he said.
We talked some more about Michael after that. Joking about what he was like and some of the fun times we actually did have. It wasn't long before he headed off to finish his beer. He must have left right after that. I didn't see him the rest of the afternoon.
I'm glad I got to tell him what Michael never got to say.
I'm sure I'll run into John from time to time now. It was good to see him. Although, I'll never get the image of John passed out on my couch at 3am, buck naked with an entire roll of plastic wrap half hanging off of his body while he peacefully snored.
I'm not a man that takes kindly to being followed around by a salesperson when I'm shopping. Especially in stores where I know the salesperson isn't getting any sort of commission from what I might buy. The only thing he might have to deal with is a daily goal.
Back in college, I was one of those people who's salary was boosted depending on the amount we sold. I was notorious for selling a shirt, belt and possibly a pair of shoes to someone who only came in for a pair of jeans. I was subtle, easy going, gave the person some space, yet was able to help and persuade them into buying more then they anticipated. I was often told while at the cash register, "Damn you!"
I'm a shopaholic. I know how to find a bargin. I can sniff them out a mile away. I walk into a store just to look, or I have something in mind that I want and know right where to get it. I don't need someone telling me how nice something would look on me, that those jeans really flatter my butt or where the dressing room is located. I'm not blind, it says the words "dressingroom" over the door. More then likely, I've been in there more then the salesclerk. And please don't try to take my clothes from me and walk me to the door, hang up my clothing and proceed to hang outside the door asking me constantly how things fit. I will more then likely walk out of your store.
I'm not rude to these people. I know they have a job to do. And from personal experience, a Tuesday night at The Mall is probably so dead that when someone comes walking through the door, they tend to pounce on you due loneliness alone! They just want someone to talk to.
Last night after getting pissed off at the dog for tearing leaves to shreds and digging in the dirt of one of our potted plants for the third time that day (*sigh*), I decided to get out and walk around the largest mall in Dallas. North Park. My Mama had sent me a giftcard for my upcoming birthday (The 21st for those who need to do any sort of planning *cough*) and I needed a new pair of tennis shoes for when we go to San Francisco.
I love shopping by myself. I enjoy taking my time and walking into all the stores that I want. Shopping with Brian is great too since he's the one that usually convinces me to spend money and buy in bulk. I came up to the shoe store in Dillards and was accosted by an elderly man who had these constantly shifting eyes that reminded me of Igor from Young Frankenstein. I had trouble figuring out if they were looking at me or behind me or around me. I couldn't pick up a pair of shoes or even walk past a shoe rack without him jumping in and telling me how wondeful the shoe was and that I definately needed to try it on. He constantly wanted to know exactly what I was looking for and my walking habits. Walking habits? He asked me about colors, textures and price ranges. I tried to tell him that I was just checking things out and if I found something I would find him immediately.
Nothing seemed to work.
Did I mention that he had an enormous magnifying glass in his pocket that he pulled out when he had to look at SKU numbers or prices? Did I mention that he already had on glasses that were half an inch thick? Let me just tell you that checking out at the cash register was a treat. If I could have gone behind the counter to help him so he didn't have to hold the magnifying glass an inch away from the computer screen, I would have. As we say in Texas, "Bless his heart."
Since I had a little bit of cash left on the giftcard, I decided to go buy some new cologne. Despite already having probably 25 different kinds, you can never have enough. I swear Perfume/Cologne counter people are the worst. I know for a fact these people get commission. Within seconds of walking up to the counter, they're spraying little cards and shoving them in my face. Asking me if I want to try one on my arm. One person literally read the back of the display for Euphoria by Calvin Klein, telling me how sexy, provacative, sleek and manly was the cologne. DId I mention she probably had a 5th grade reading level? You could tell.
I walked to the next counter and was pounced on by the next young little thing. The previous lady yells to her that I was HER customer and to bring whatever I bought over to her. I shrugged my shoulders at the poor girl since the cologne I decided to buy was at her station. Gaultier 2. The previous lady rang me up, gave me plenty of samples and continued to try to convince me to buy another cologne or come back within a few weeks to purchase another one.
Enough already.
I've decided I'm boycotting The Mall this coming Christmas. I have no patience anymore.
Saturday we took Max along with our buddy Kelly's 3 dogs to the dog park for some fun in the sun and frollicking in the pool. As always the kids were so tired after we left. I couldn't tell if Max was pissed that we were leaving or just too pooped to care. Later that night Kelly and Craig offered to come to our house and cook dinner. Homemade Ceviche, Chicken Enchilada's, Rice and Beans. We finished it all up with White Chocolate Cake. No wonder we're all gaining weight. We ended the evening by watching a few episodes of Little Britian. I can't seem to get enough of that show. You must check it out when you get the chance.
We decided on Sunday to catch a couple of movies. Another Gay Movie and The Covenant. Another Gay Movie was like watching a gay version of American Pie with more sex and tons of frontal male nudity. It's tacky, horrible acting, raunchy and absolutely hilarious. The Covenant was good if you love watching half naked Abercrombie and Fitch type boys battle it out with witchcraft. Not that great, but lots of eyecandy.
We got a call from Mama Starlett and decided to meet him at The Door for the Beer Bust. I remembered why we haven't gone in a long time. Too hot, too much beer makes for two very drunk boys.
I've felt like shit all day.
So to make myself feel better, I created a new ZeitCast all by myself, without the hubby's help.
MaxCast:
(PS: I did not write about 9/11 today like many people already have. My recounting of that horrible day like I have done in the past, does not compare to what the people in NYC had to endure. My thoughts and prayers go out to all of the victims families. May the city and it's people continue to move forward.)
You might remember a while back, I was contacted by a young woman who is the oldest daughter of my glass professor from College. I had written about him a few years ago and when she did a name search, she found my site and the story I had wrote. We exchanged a few emails getting caught up and filling me in on what her parents were up to. Afterwards, I promised myself to give John a call one of these days.
The last time I talked to him was over 10 years ago. My health wasn't doing very well due to the harsh side effects of my mediction. My job was horrible, paid very little and I barely seemed to make ends meet. He asked me what my health problems were, so I told him. He was very concerned and before we hung up, he told me to take care of myself. It seemed very final.
I kept putting off calling him for whatever reason. Lazyness. Procrastination. Or maybe having to still tell my old glass professor that I'm still not blowing glass and probably never will again. Probably a combination of all three. A few nights ago while doing my normal routine of lounging around the house watching TV, I decided to pick up the phone and give him a call.
I called the house first since it was late night. I figured he wouldn't be at the studio. His wife Jenny answered. Always the bubbly personality and a genuine, sweet person. We chatted for about a half an hour. She told me all about her kids who were 3 and 6 when they left. They're both in College now. She told me all about her and John and what they were doing. She said, "We're still the same. John's still fat, more grey and he still smokes too much." She told me he was at the studio charging the furnaces (filling them with cold glass so that it melts and usable for the next day) and told me to give him a call down there.
So call him I did. We had the best conversation. We didn't linger on talking about the old days which is good. Doing so tends to just make me depressed and meloncholy. I told him about Brian, our new Condo, Max and about my job. Then I told him about my health. I told him about how after I had talked to him last, things had gotten better with medication, my health improved dramatically and that I got a better job and was making more money. He was relieved to hear the news. He told me all about his new studio and gallery, where you can see the ocean from out the back. He makes elaborate Christmas Ornaments and vases. He recently sealed a deal with Saks and Niemans for huge orders of Christmas Ornaments. Which reminds me, I need to place my order with him soon for mine.
It was good to talk to him and his wife. They both meant a lot to me growing up and still do. They invited us both out to Westport, MA and spend a few days hanging out and blowing glass. Brian and I plan to fly out there for a few days before or after next years GB:NYC4 in May (Jebus...will it really be #4?).
Since then, I've had glass on the mind. I recently found and artists site who's work I want to purchase and they have a link that shows clips of how the pieces are made. Check out Cohn-Stone Studios. Click here to see a video of how one of their pieces is made. It's very well done except for the bad music quality.
Damn, I miss it.
After an exhausting day at work, I headed home with the music blasting and was singing at the top of my lungs. Little did I know that our friend Kelly drove up beside me, honked and waved, trying to get my undivided attention. Nothing was distracting me. I must have had my music up too loud.
I decided to grab Max and headed down to CIty Pet Supply for some dog food and to sit on the patio at their coffee shop. It's one of the only coffee shops where dogs are allowed. A city ordinance prevents dogs on the patio of any coffee shop or restaurant. After sipping a cup of Chai, I headed down to an old school house with a huge playground located in the middle of the gayborhood. I had heard from a fellow doglover, that many people meet there after work with their dogs.
I drove up and Max immediately got excited as he could see the group of 10-15 dogs running around. I walked up near the crowd and took off Max's leash. Everyone ooo'd and ahhhh'd, asking who's he was, what his name is and saying how they thought he was very cute. I wasn't a proud papa at ALL during this entire time. *wink*
As I stood there talking to Mitzi, Tiffany and Brie, with their fake tans, hair in a ponytail put through a baseball cap, wearing too much makeup and jewelry watching their dogs who each had some sort of diamond studded collar for the girls and metal studs for the boys, I realized how much my neighborhood has changed.
Normally I would be talking with Mark, Rick or Steve not three girls who I guarantee were cheerleaders or homecoming queens five years prior. Then a few of their husbands and friends Dirk, Storm and River showed up with their big dogs each with a bandana wrapped around it's neck.
I stood there listening to their conversations about having kids, finishing school, what club they were going out to this coming weekend, grabbing some sushi later and of course the latest gossip of what had happened to Barbie and Biff last weekend.
I was no longer in my element. The gayborhood has changed. More 3 story condos are being put up in place of the quaint, older apartment complexes that fill this neighborhood. Everywhere you turn something old is being torn down and replaced with something new and modern. Shopping centers are replacing all the local grocery stores, convience stores and fast food places. Everything is built with tons of steel, marble and cement. What happened to wood and brick? No longer will you find Fords and Chevy's parked on the street or driveways. They've been replaced with BMW, Mercedes, Lexus and way too many Mini Coopers then I can count.
Property values are skyrocketing in this area. I guess it's good that we bought around here. Soon, our complex will be surrounded by 300-400K homes and strip malls on every corner. Many of the homo's are moving out and finding new neighborhoods. Many straight urbanites are moving back into the city and settling in midtown or uptown. Makes me wonder how long the strip with all of our gay bars, shops and restaurants will be eventually shoved out and forced to find new locations. Gay's that can't afford homes and have to rent, are finding that most apartment complexes prices are almost doubled of what it was ten years ago.
I pondered all of this while I stood there amongst the smell of Chanel number 5 and hair bleach. I was then woke out of my stupor by Max getting his ass handed to him on a platter by one of the blonde bitches dogs. She apologized profusely as we pulled our dogs off of each other. She said that she gets a little "feisty" once in a while.
Yeah, so do I honey. So do I.
As I was thinking about leaving these people to their fun, I hollered at Max and said "Lets go!". As he was coming towards me, her dog went after him again for the last time, but this time Max growled, snarled, snapped and took after her dog with a passion, pinned her down and got some revenge. The dog was twice the size of Max.
Now if you think I wasn't very proud before, you should have seen me then.
The joys of returning home after being gone for four days. Vacations are a time of relaxation. You come back and all you do is spend your time cleaning house, doing laundry and trying to recover and rest. Before you know it, Brian and I will be hopping on a plane in a few weeks for our trip out to San Francisco. Victor and I have talked some about how we'll spend our time. Little bit of sighseeing, shopping, eating and of course hanging out with friends. Of course, after seeing Victors latest Bears Gone Wild videocast, I'm sure we're going to have an incredible time. It's something you don't want to miss.
In the midst of our busy life here lately, I've noticed something that seems to be happening quite frequently. I'm known for being a "listener" and someone to offer advice. People come to me and want my opinion or some sort of 'words of wisdom'. It's been this way for as long as I can remember. Family, friends, lovers, bloggers and even the total stranger you might meet while sitting at the bar having a cocktail after work. Hell, for anyone that knows me, I'm even known to offer my opinion when it's not even asked.
It's not that I mind at all. I love talking to people and listening to them. If someone feels comfortable enough to want to share something with me, I'm more then happy to do whatever I can. It makes a person feel good to help. I just often wonder if my advice, opinions or words of wisdom are what is needed. I can be pretty blunt and to the point. I don't hold back on what I'm going to say. I don't paint a grey picture. It's all black and white.
I've just noticed that there are a lot of people out there who seem to be going through something very difficult right now. Personally, emotionally, spiritually, physically. I hear about problems with work, health and relationships. I wonder why the increase lately? Maybe many issues have always been there, but people are just being more vocal about expressing them or I've just not noticed and have been blind to the situation.
Even last night Brian and I had an hour long talk. I needed to give him sort of a pep talk regarding his job, his security and to re-assure him of what he's capable of at his job. Often we just need to have someone tell us that things will be OK. That we're doing the right thing or sometimes we need a slap in the face to make ourselves wake up. Sometimes we just need to hear it from another persons perspective.
I'm lucky I have my partner, my friends, my family and this blog to help give me a swift kick in the ass whenever I need it or a real or cyber shoulder to cry on.
We're becoming quite the little campers. If camping means to you that you get to stay in a really nice trailer, lounge by the pool, drink lots of beer and drive around in a golfcart rather then walking. Matt was gracious enough to be our host and let us stay at Hotel Matt. Anyone who says true camping should be in a tent, surrounded by bugs and a bonfire should have their head examined.
This is the time of year where we all head to The Ranch to help Mama and Twyla put on their comedy show.
Friday night was our usual drink until we pass out sort of evening. Saturday, the boys spent most of the day getting the show ready while the rest of us relaxed and did absolutely nothing. Max spent most of his time rough housing or trying to mount Matt's new dog Mugsy. Those two boys had to be seperated at times because they wouldn't stop. Max seems all depressed since we arrived at home and hasn't done anything but lay on the floor sleeping or staring at us with those sad puppy dog eyes. We've taken him away from his new boyfriend.
The They're Not Right Show was a huge success. Mama and Twyla were hilarious. After the show, we spent more time drinking with friends. The night was full of freaks who were trying to get into our pants. I must say that the lesbians this year were absolutely bat shit crazy.
We ended up crashing a bit earlier then some of the "staying up 'til 5am" crowd. Sunday after I cooked a fabulous breakfast for everyone, we decided to stay the entire day and night and not come home until this morning. Best decision we made all weekend.
That night was spent getting drunk with a bunch of friends in one of their cabins doing everything from singing, talking trash and putting on wigs. After getting primed, we headed down to the volleyball court by the lake for some midnight volleyball. It reminded me of some sort of highschool or college party kids used to have out on someones farm or vacant field. Tons of people with their cars or golfcarts, shining their lights onto the game. Someone mentioned that there were no cheerleaders, so Matt, Brian, Paul and I did an impromptu cheer which you'll see in the ZeitCast.
I can't even begin to tell you how blitzed we were by this point. Drunk enough to hop into the golfcart and find an open wheat field with tons of haystacks, then acted like idiots while we jumped from one huge haystack to another. My allergies were kicking my ass this morning. We had worked up an appetite so we headed back to the trailer for some very late night munchies and good times before heading to bed around 2am.
Check out Zeitcast 13 for some clips from the show, our drunken state and some photos.
