Pulling it in Atlanta

As I have mentioned in passing, I was in a long term relationship with someone for 6 years. I've never regretted the relationship with John, but I have found certain games, (you know the one's) that were just "ours" to now be annoying (hindsight is 20/20)...something that wasn't the case when we were together.

One of our games was to pull each other's leg hair...Sounds stupid I know...but it hurts like a bitch and it's really difficult to not yell out and act like nothing happened, thus not embarrassing yourself. We used to play this "game" everywhere. Funerals, church services, movie theaters, bank lines...this game would go on all the time. The rules are simple, you can only pull leg hair on your turn. No other rules, no place is off limits.

On a trip back from Florida, we had a lay over in Atlanta, which was extended after the area was hit with an ice storm. For those of you who have never been grounded by the weather, the airlines will not pay for a room, or provide any meal compensation for acts of God. This ice storm must have been sent by God, and she was pissed.

When John and I had arrived, it was 7 am in Atlanta. Having been up since 4am, we played the leg hair pulling game to keep each other entertained and awake. Meanwhile, I was beginning to regret that I had had those two bran muffins for breakfast. I knew I was going to have to use the restroom, but I was hoping I could just wait until I got home.

Now I have issues about using public restrooms, especially when it comes to moving my bowels. (Notice that there is no pleasant way to say that? Take a dump, shit, book a contract, number 2, crap, poop...but that is another post). Let's just say for today that I get stage fright in public restrooms and can't use them for that particular purpose. I have to have the right lighting, mood music, and most definitely...privacy.

God must have been punishing me that day, because the flight was delayed for 5 hours (in 20 minute increments of course) and still had no sign of taking off, and my bowels were not going to wait much longer. John knew my issues and after waiting as long as I could, I had to go use the public toilet. John being nice, went in with me, and agreed to use the stall right next to me, so that I could at least feel a little more privacy. Two stalls opened and I made a break for the one. John quickly followed and entered the one to my right.

Once business was completed on my part, the devil in me came out. I looked over to my right, and could see John's shoes, denim jeans and underwear bunched around his ankles, and started to smile. Grabbing a piece of toilet paper off the spindle, I wadded it up and threw it over the stall wall, where it landed on John. Not less than 30 seconds later, he throws it back. At that point, I'm beginning to laugh a little, so I throw another piece of paper over the wall. It lands on the floor in front of his feet. He kicks the paper back to my side.

I wait a few seconds, and slowly reach under the stall wall, making sure not to make any noise, and grab a few leg hairs from his left leg and pull them. He jumps, makes a startled sound, reaches down to grab his pants and pulls them up. I am completely frozen, as John was wearing a wedding ring on his left hand. John didn't wear a wedding ring. I had mistakenly pulled some other man's leg hair. The poor guy bolted out of the bathroom stall and I can only hope that he at least washed his hands.

I didn't leave that stall for another 15 minutes, and it wasn't until John came to the door to see if I was ok, did I come out. He decided to use another stall that looked a bit cleaner, and when I told him, he couldn't stop laughing about it. Everyone that we both know has heard this story now...most that day as he was on the cellular phone before I could tell him to keep it to himself. So for you married me out there...if I pulled your hair in Atlanta in December...sorry...thought you were someone else.

Earning Seven Inches the Hard Way

When I was in my late teens, I was mild mannered, conservative and shy. (I can hear my mother laughing right now). Ok...so I was a wild child. I was living on my own when I was 17 (my father having kicked me out) and was experiencing life in NYC as an actor/waiter. This was how I started meeting a number of other gay men...most who were much older than I was. This was always problematic as I wasn't old enough to go out drinking with them (although they did try to sneak me into lots of places).

One of the guys I was working with, Dan, was planning a trip to Fire Island with his roommate Mark and asked if I wanted to come along. He said that he was renting a house and wanted to defray the cost a bit (like splitting it with 14 other people). Dan was cool, 6'1, sweet, and more importantly...had a roommate named Mark that I was in love with. Any time I saw Mark, I was trying to get his attention so of course I was in for traveling (and I was in for it).

The first night we were there, all of the guys showed up bringing enough alcohol that a fraternity house would have been shamed. I being under the legal drinking age, was a bit nervous about this...but figured these guys knew what they were doing. They were the cool ones. One of the guys was celebrating his 23rd birthday that day, so the party began a bit early (like the minute we got there).

By 10:00 pm, we were bobbing for cherries in vodka. I was given the challenge of drinking the remaining vodka in the bowl. Now common sense would have told me that drinking the vodka would be stupid, it contained the backwash of 10 attempts by other people to bob for cherries, it would make me really drunk, it doesn't even taste that bad....Oh shit...I was 17 with no common sense and I just finished it.

3

congratulated all around. People laughing at me, and I got a kiss from Mr. Abs, who of course wanted to bag himself a 17 year old....Pervert.

2

Mr. Abs is pulled away by some of his friends and I go into the dining room, where some other friends are playing a drinking game of quarters. I suck at this game. However, I stupidly began to play this game. The rules are simple. Bounce a quarter off the table and if it lands in the empty glass, you get to tell someone to drink. We added the rule that if you miss, you must take a sip of your own drink. I have no clue how many beers I consumed playing this game.

1

The room had begun to spin slightly, in a pleasant way, and the stereo was pumping while I was basically sitting on someone's lap playing this drinking game. Sitting on someone's lap? Hi...how did you get down there? Where is my shirt by the way?

Blast Off

The Earth had begun to spin at a much more rapid pace, and I was beginning to slur my words when the music was immediately shut off. The police had arrived because of a disturbing the peace call and they were checking for identification. The man whose lap I was sitting on told me to hide. I bolted to the back of the house, where I went out on the second floor deck (where my buddy Dan happened to be hiding as well...we both were underage). Now in my drunken panic state, I was very nervous and when I saw the police officer in the room that opens onto the deck, Dan decided we needed to hide better (AKA get away). He jumped over the deck and landed on the ground below. I put one leg over the banister, then the second and looked down. I could not see the ground or Dan at all as it was too dark. I did notice that the roofline sloped downward at an angle (albeit steep) and actually touched the ground. I decided the slide down the roof tactic was my best get away plan. Edging myself over to the roof, I was very careful to not make a sound, as I didn't want to get caught. I got to the roof, sat down, and used my feet as a way of stopping myself from sliding. My feet however had had way too much vodka, and I slipped. I slid down the roof like I had covered myself in baby oil (which isn't that off as I had been wearing sun block all day). About 1/2 way down the roofline, I hit the nails. The nails sliced through my shorts, through my underwear, and unfortunately for me...through my ass.

The first thing I thought was that I was a bit cold back there. When I felt the split pants, I started saying..."Shit...Dan...I broke my ass...Oh my god...I broke my ass." He grabbed me and pulled me away before the cops could hear me whine. We circled around the house, and waited a bit before checking the driveway. No police car, so we went back to the house. My ass hurt and felt sticky from the blood. We entered the house and the party was going on as usual, except they now had a man in a Jock strap dancing in the living room. Dan got his friend and our housemate Thomas, who was a nurse to check me out. Thomas said I needed stitches and a tetanus shot, so they took me to the emergency room, where I had my 7 inch slice stitched up and a nice shot. By the time we got back to the house, the party was over.

The next day during brunch (nobody actually could get up for breakfast), the topic turned to my disappearing the night before. I found out that the police officer was a stripper hired to entertain the birthday boy. Mark Interrupted and said that he had heard I had a problem last night breaking my ass. Dan, Thomas, and I had told nobody. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that Mark had witnessed the whole incident. He was in bed with someone when they heard (wubba dubba wubba dubba whomp) Dan...I broke my ass! I had landed right outside their window as they happend to be right next to it. They said they had seen me limping away, grabbing my back side.

I keep this memory because it stops me from ever getting that drunk again...not to mention I have a great pick up line. "Wanna see my scar?"

Sometimes...Even Drag can be a Drag

Saturday night I went with David to go see Lady Chablis perform at Union Station/Bounce. I'm a performer by nature, so I actually like drag shows where choreography and large scale numbers are performed. Men who dress as women, look pretty (pretty done up that is) and expect me to tip them while they lip sync to a song that is better left not sung (how many times can you listen to Tiffany and still feel good about yourself) drive me nuts.

Saturday's show tended to fall into the latter category. Where the hell was the showmanship? I paid money to see a performance, not a good tuck and ducktape job, and believe me...one queen was wearing an outfit that was actually frightening. A fat drag queen with breast implants, wearing a jeweled thong with very little covering the front. He had to tuck everything...and I just couldn't even look. Some things were not meant to be tucked. I'm assuming that eventually he is going to have it all removed. I don't want to even know.

I questioned someone who does drag once as to why someone would get dressed up, only to mouth the words while standing in place on stage. He said the point of drag was to look "FABULOUS" and not perform. I disagree as how long can you look good on stage before people just start ignoring you? It's all about stage presence. Freaking amateurs! :-)

When I was working as a financial aid administrator in Denver Colorado, I was sent information about a White Rose Scholarship, which I passed out like crazy to all of my students. Being the only gay financial aid officer in the Denver area, I was shocked to hear that the majority of my students won the scholarship ($1500 a piece). As a thank you, the students all pitched in and bought me two tickets to the Coronation event where the scholarship would be presented. HAD I KNOWN WHAT THE EVENT WAS LIKE, I WOULD HAVE TURNED DOWN THE OFFER TO GO!

My date and I rented tuxedos and took a cab to the hotel, where my students were waiting for us for a meeting at 4:00 (the time the ball opened). Quick introductions and we took seats near the stage. The organization that puts on the event is called The Imperial Court of The Rocky Mountain Empire. I feel like it should be spoken with an echo...it sounds so pretentious.

Before taking our seats, one of my students remarked that all the feet were facing the wrong direction in the stalls of the women's room. I told her to smile and get used to it as we were probably going to see a lot more. The audience was full of people straight out of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.

We took our seats, the lights dimmed (at 4:30...an early show start?) and a drag queen came out to lip sync Whitney Houston's version of the Star Spangled banner. My boyfriend whispered that he had a bad feeling about this. The announcer came out and introduced the first contestant up for "coronation", who performed a great number.

I should explain...a coronation is where drag queens compete to see who will get "crowned" the next Empress of the organization. This Empress and her Emperor are head of the social service organization that does a number of fundraising, and charitable events. They do good work, but to become the Empress, you basically must win the popularity contest and the coronation is where you find out what the tallied votes were. Think beauty contest and you aren't far off.

So after the first drag queen does her performance, they start introducing the early "courts" (prior winners). At the time their were 25 prior courts, consisting of Emperor, Empress, Princess, Prince, Grand Poo Baa, Jester, Court administrator, Peasants, blah blah blah, as well as the Sub courts consisting of Wyoming, Denver, Colorado Springs, Fort Collins, Utah, Nebraska, and Iowa (25 each). They would announce each and every individual who would then have to walk down a 70' runway (Which every drag queen will tell you is intentional). According to the program, my students were to receive their awards at the end of the announcing of the courts.

It took them 7 hours to announce each and every person (which I found out later was the only people who attend this event). Imagine hearing...Introducing Empress 13, Miss. Nova Gina!...Introducing Grand Princess 17, Miss. Anne Thrope!...Introducing...Her most imperial Empress 21, Miss. Annie Manilldoo. As the night wore on (or should I say grated on my sanity) I realized I was not going to make it without drinking. Now I never liked to drink in front of my students, but this was a gay emergency. I needed vodka in mass quantities to help me make it, as the wigs and heels were only getting higher and those queens were working the runway SLOWER AND SLOWER!

I had forgotten my wallet that night. I was dressed in a tuxedo without a freaking wallet, and there was no way that any of these drag queens are going to buy me a drink as they expected I buy them drinks (for looking pretty? Puhleeze...if I wanted a woman I would have been straight). I looked to my boyfriend (who was falling asleep at the table) and asked him if he had any money...alas...he left his wallet in his apartment. We had enough for cab fare home and that was it.

They finally announced my students one at a time (who also had to walk the runway of death...what I had named it by then) around 2 in the morning. John and I left, got our cab and vowed...we would NEVER ATTEND A CORONATION AGAIN.

One of my old student's has won the scholarship several times now, and she has learned her lesson. She brings a book with her and shows up 5 hours late...and she emailed me last August to tell me that she has never once missed her turn at the runway of death.

Do you think this might work?

Now Hiring

Professional Bed Warmer - Single white comedian seeks professional bed warmer to keep me warm on winter nights. Must have body temperature of 98.6 degrees, be reasonably attractive, be willing to "think outside of the box" while performing duties, have the stamina of an Olympic athlete, and the ability to bang a headboard like a sailor on leave. Must enjoy cuddling, romantic dinners, dancing, looking longingly into my eyes, and playing sports (both in the bedroom and out). Now taking applications until the position is filled.

Sunday...Volleyball baby! I joined the gay volleyball league (in my never ending quest to find a decent man), so of course it is only fitting that my team consists of 6 women, one straight man, and myself. Now of course it is not about winning or losing, but really about how good you look playing while the hot guys are in the next court.

So while playing the game, I kept accidentally hitting the balls into the next court. What would Freud say? I might as well have put my telephone number on the volleyball and when it hit the guy in the number 74 t-shirt, yelled "Call me!" I can be such a shameless flirt.

That flirting has gotten me into trouble, as I do tend to be too "nice". Rather than be rude, I try to let a guy down easy. My problem...some guys have been rudely rejected enough times that being "let down easy" is perceived as an encouragement. I sometimes think I got to just learn to be a prick. I'm specifically thinking of someone on my bowling league who had the audacity to kiss me as he was leaving. Now a peck on the check...that is sweet. Tipping me backwards and trying to push your tongue down my throat is not a good thing. ESPECIALLY WHEN I DON'T KNOW YOUR NAME!!! Mindless oaf!
So were dating now....just kidding.

The volleyball games were ok. We lost 5 and won 5 games, although for me...I really just want to have fun, and I don't care if we lose. I hope our team can keep that same attitude, but I do sense a "we want to win attitude". This team will be low drama...I insist on it.

Funny...but in my community...chocolate is NOT A TURN ON.

Gay Labels

I Could Use a Good "Snow" Job

Ever notice how most of the weather casters are men? I think it has to do with the snow predictions. Every time they say we are going to get a solid 10 inches...we really get 5. Typical man.

It does get me thinking...why do men have such horrible problems dealing with the size of their penis. And the advertisements...be more of a man You never see a woman walking around proud because she has a big clitoris. I can just imagine it now on Geraldo..."Women Who Have Clitoris Envy and the Men Who Love Them". Now I know that women have boob envy, but I don't think they have nearly the issues that men have.

Like most of gay culture, we categorize and have labels (and I don't mean Prada or Dolce and Gabanna). Now this is ironic, as a majority of us don't like to be labeled a stereotype. Here are some of the terms I have heard in the last few years though:

• Size Queen- as you would expect...these men only want men who are endowed with massive penises. Defining massive is of course subjective, but as one size queen put it..."If you tell me it's longer than 9 inches and it isn't, I'll yank on it till it is."



• Rice Queen-A gay man who is attracted to Asian men.



• Dairy Queen-A man who has a fetish for other men's nipples.



• Matza Queen-A man who has a thing for Jewish men. Often found hanging out at the Jewish community centers and temples.



• Drag Queen-A man who dresses in women's clothing and looks fabulous. If you want to piss him off...smear his make up after he's worked on it for hours. Tell tale sign when he is out of makeup...shaved eyebrows.



• Drama Queen-Has taken the saying "All the world's a stage" and made it true. Often found in a predicament that even Lucy and Ethel wouldn't find themselves in.

Is anyone noticing a royalty theme??

• Circuit Boy-Has a body fat % that would make a body builder jealous, but has the unfortunate lifestyle of a junkie. Knows exactly how much "swirl", "tina", "X" it takes to put him over the edge. Wakes up after a circuit party wondering exactly who he may have slept with (ok...so I have bit of disdain for these types)



• Chubby Chaser-Commonly found cruising McDonald's and Baskin and Robins for future husbands. They like body fat...and sometimes quite a bit of it. Once you've tried fat...you ain't ever going back.



• Roid Droid- A dangerous fellow. Pumps his body with enough steroids that stepping on his toe could get you knocked out.



• Twinky-Age range of 18 to 23ish, yet has the body mass of a 12 year old. Think little boy with the sex drive of a teenager...and you can imagine all the problems they can run into.



• Bug Chaser-Absolutely deplorable chap that wants to catch HIV.



• Fag Hag-We all know them. What would Will be without Grace? This woman goes with her gay buddy to the gay bar, introduces him around, and dances away until closing time. She then goes home alone, and calls her friend for breakfast to see who he went home with.

I'm sure I've forgotten many, but it's Friday and I've got bowling tonight...so my mind is on a pair of big balls.

This is why I NEVER discuss politics in my comedy shows

Margaret Cho attacked for comments taken out of context

A Very Sad and Cold Day in Ohio

Ohio Set to Enact Same-Sex Marriage Ban
Thu Jan 22, 5:38 AM ET
By ANDREW WELSH-HUGGINS, Associated Press Writer
COLUMBUS, Ohio - The Ohio Senate has approved one of the most far-reaching gay marriage bans in the nation despite charges from some lawmakers that the legislation was mean-spirited and discriminatory.

A divided Senate approved the bill 18-15 Wednesday and sent it back to the House, which is expected to approve minor changes next week. Gov. Bob Taft has said he will sign the bill.

The measure says same-sex marriages are "against the strong public policy of the state," and would prohibit state employees from getting benefits for domestic partners, whether they were gay or unmarried heterosexual couples.

The bill permits exceptions to the benefits ban, including cities, villages, townships, schools and private companies. However, universities are included in the ban.

Senate Minority Leader Gregory DiDonato, a Democrat, said the bill was mean-spirited and "just plain wrong." Sen. C.J. Prentiss, also a Democrat, quoted from Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech as she called the bill "good, old-fashioned discrimination."

But Republican Sen. Jay Hottinger, a longtime supporter of the same-sex marriage ban, said that opponents were misstating the bill's intentions. He said the bill was not an attack on gays, but was meant to protect a traditional definition of marriage.

"This is solely and clearly clarifying and protecting the definition of marriage between one man and one woman," Hottinger said.

Lawmakers have struggled with the issue for seven years, when Hottinger, then a House lawmaker, introduced a bill in the House. Republican Rep. Bill Seitz sponsored the current bill and told the committee that a ruling in Massachusetts that declared the state's gay marriage ban unconstitutional could affect Ohio.

Thirty-seven states have passed laws recognizing marriage as the union between a man and a woman. But Ohio's measure is particularly restrictive because of the benefits ban, said Seth Kilbourn, national field director for the Human Rights Campaign, a Washington-based gay and lesbian lobbying group. Nebraska has a similar ban.

I rarely discuss politics on this blog...mainly because being a comedian, I've learned that politics and religion are two areas that people are way too passionate about to not get upset. However, this particular thing really infuriates me. I'm not sure that I want to get married (although being allowed would be nice), but I was formally a state employee, and two of the state universities were looking at approving domestic partner benefits. What does domestic partner benefits have to do with marriage? When I accept domestic partner benefits, I have to pay taxes on them (both federal and state, while a married couple does not). What financial burden does this put on the state, that it was necessary to eliminate health insurance for at most 3% of the population?

Recently I came across the weblog of someone who is very proud of this state, and is determined to bring Cleveland back up in the ranks as an exceptional place to live. He states that we should be doing things to support the local businesses, support the local artists, and tell companies that we will not do business with them if they don't support Ohio. And if we don't agree with him, we should leave, because this city doesn't need us as we are part of the problem.

Currently...I can't say I agree with him. Ohio does not support me or him (he is gay as well), and I do not feel very proud to say that I live here. I choose to live here because the cost of living is decent (I couldn't even rent a studio in NYC for what I pay for a 3 bedroom house), I have friends in the area, and the airport is close enough that I can travel about once a month. Will I be more likely to support Ohio businesses...maybe those that offer domestic partner benefits.

Now I am smart enough to know that the Democrat party would like me to believe that they are my friends, vowing to stand up for me, but I am not naive. It all comes down to money and power. The population of Ohio is a majority of religious conservativism, and politicians want to stay in office and continue to make the enormous amounts that they make, so they always try to please the masses. Look good in the public eye and even if it smells bad, nobody will care.

This state scares me sometimes. I've gone to gay pride festival events, and seen small children carrying signs that say AIDS IS A PUNISHMENT. Yes...some gay men are promiscus (and at times in my life...I've been one of them). I've also known some straight men who were just as bad. Wasn't Mary Magdaline a whore? (sorry...my christian teaching is really poor). Bur for as many gay sluts I have met, I've met just as many men who were very selective in their sexual partners.

Maybe it comes down to being fair to each other. So in the favor of equality...I propose to eliminate health insurance benefits to the married and unmarried partners of all state employees, including all elected officials. Additionally, I think we should make it a ballot initiative that elected officals must put it to a vote of the population to increase salary. (Congress has increased their salaries nearly every 3 years. Do they really need to earn $150,000 a year?).

'Nuff said. I'm off that soapbox...for now.

Close to You

There comes a time in a new relationship when you need to start letting your guard down and opening up the everyday activities in your life to your other half. This can be a valuable step in the direction to permanency and the elusive Long Term Relationship. The question is when is the right time, and what is the right level of guard that is lowered.

I'm thinking specifically of my close friend (who shall remain nameless) and her budding relationship with a strapping young musician. The relationship had been going very well and they had become intimate (they were doing it like bunnies).

One morning, the sun was shining through the East facing windows and the warmth of the two of them holding each other aroused her senses (I'm not writing porn here...but I will if someone asks nice). As their intimacy level rose, she lay on top of him, expressing her love. (Do I sound like a high school chick here?). While laying on top of him, she realized that she had to pass a bit of gas. Being that they were both under the covers, and they were facing each other, she figured it would be safe and he would never know. So relaxing herself, she let one rip. IT WAS A WET ONE.

Now lets face it....we have all been there. We have all passed what we thought was gas, only to get a nasty wet surprise that demands the immediate butt clench walk to the nearest bathroom. Sort of Mother Nature's way of pissing on your sunny day.

So my friend was in a predicament here. She had 1) never passed gas in front of this new boyfriend, 2) Never performed any bowel evacuations with him in the next room...which was going to happen soon like it or not, and 3)Not yet admitted that she was a human being that can be as gross as the rest of us in front of him. She had to slowly work her way out of bed (legs crossed and butt clenched), make the minor excuse of "I have to use the restroom", and waddle her way to the bathroom down the hall (passing his roommate's door) to the bathroom.

Unfortunately in her case...the roommate was already awake and taking a shower. She waddled her way back to the bedroom, and had to admit the truth, that she needed in the bathroom NOW! When the boyfriend asked why....she shamefully admitted. He laughed and got the roommate to get out of the bathroom, thus ending any more humiliation.

I've learned from this woman's mistakes. I make an effort to fart and use the bathroom on the first date with a potential mate. This way, when the time comes, I've already done it once, and it can't be any worse than the first times. I tell my dates that they should feel flattered that I am willing to do that in front of them as it shows how comfortable I feel around them.

As my 4th or 5th father used to say (I can't remember which), always let your fart go free, because the fart had caused the death of me.

Facing the Beast!

Mirrors on the ceiling,
The pink champagne on ice
And she said 'We are all just prisoners here, of our own device'
And in the master's chambers,
They gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives,
But they just can't kill the beast

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
'Relax,'said the night man,
We are programmed to receive.
You can checkout any time you like,
but you can never leave!

Went to go visit the grandmother (my mother's mother) this weekend...which is always a treat. If she wasn't Catholic...I'd swear she was Jewish. "Why did you bother driving 3 hours to visit if you plan on leaving the next day? Don't you want to visit me longer?" "It looks like you've gained weight....why aren't you eating your ice cream?" "I haven't eaten dinner in 45 days, because I was afraid to have my mouth full if you decided to call." "When are you going to marry a nice girl and settle down?"

My own mother gave up on the woman a long time ago. They are oil and water and I unfortunately am the one who is stuck between them. My grandmother is the exact opposite of my mother. She does not approve of careers in the arts (including my own), feels that homosexuality is a sin against nature, that one should work at the same company for all of their lives and be glad to get the gold watch. Generally....she's old school...very old school.

The last time my mother and grandmother had an interaction of longer than the obligatory phone call was over a Thanksgiving dinner when I was 20. At this point, all of my relatives knew I was gay...except my grandmother. My mother had asked that I not tell her, as she was afraid that it would be held against her. I reluctantly agreed.

During the Thanksgiving dinner, my grandmother began attacking my mother for her multiple divorces, her job choice, the failing economy, the weather... when my mother panicked and delivered the bomb on the woman. "Patrick is a homosexual". Now she could have said gay...but my mother went for the multi-syllable word on purpose. The table went very silent, as my uncle very quickly poured me a glass of wine (god bless the man). My grandmother looked at me and asked "are you trying to kill me?" (Catholic = guilt)

11 years later, she still tries to convert me back to heterosexuality by pointing out women and asking if I find them attractive. I remark that I find their shoes to be very nice, but that their eye makeup reminds me too much of an ex boyfriend. It usually works, until she cries. Then I look like an absolute jerk.

So on the way home from a guilty visit, I stopped at the ultimate gay cruising spot, IKEA for a look around. 4 hours later, and $200 dollars poorer, I walked out with several flower pots, a new television entertainment center, a wine rack, and a new 5'x7' carpet. YES, I DID TAKE PICTURES AT THE IKEA AS I PROMISED BRENT, SO EXPECT THEM TO BE POSTED AS SOON AS THEY ARE DEVELOPED.

Got home and read all the comments from my last posting, and put my new entertainment center together. Started debating about the glassware once again in my head and decided to have a martini. Needed a glass to put the martini in and noticed that new glassware. Survey says...I HAVE A NEW GLASS AND JEFF CAN KISS MY ASS. I do thank you all for your opinions and thoughts.

Suicide Saturday

Last night during the bowling league, I asked Doug (a podiatrist) if he would be willing to prescribe an antibiodic for me as I believed I may now have a sinus infection. For those of you who don't live in Ohio...it is impossible to live here and not get a sinus infection. I've been in the state for 5 years and had never had one till I moved here. Now...every other year...another infection.


So I am pumping my body with antibiodics as of this morning, and driving all over the city to run some errands. I haven't admitted to anyone what these errands were for, but since dear readers...you don't know me in person yet (although I say we have a big meet and greet at Brent's home) I'm going to tell you and let you reserve your judgement as to weather I am nuts, I should up my Paxil prescription, or if I am getting the closure I deserve.

The friend I had over the summer, Jeff, is having his birthday in a few days (1/26). When we were friends over the summer, we spent nearly every single day together (and spoke on the phone the days we didn't see each other). So when he found someone new in his life and just stopped talking to me, well it crushed me in ways I can't describe. I lost faith in most people and took some serious self esteem hits. I've moved on since...and I pity him in some ways as he lost a friend (me) that would have stuck with him through most anything.

So today, as I turn my computer on, it reminds me that his birthday is coming up and I remember what he wanted from our conversations in the summer. He has a set of glasses that he wanted the matching "cocktail" and "iced tea" sizes for. So I took a trip to Crate and Barrel for one set, and the World Market for the other set. Why am I doing this???....I'm not sure. I don't plan on seeing him and my intentions are to mail it with a simple card that says only Happy Birthday. What do I expect to happen? One of three things:

1. He'll accept the package, and I won't hear from him (most likely).


2. He'll accept the package and he'll contact me via email (I'd bet my yearly paycheck he doesn't have my number anymore)


3. He'll send the package back

So all day I've been trying to figure out why I am doing this, and I think it may have to do with closure on my part. If he was to contact me, well I don't want to talk to him...it's been too much and it would only hurt me. Any apologies on his part would be only out of guilt...not sincereness. I think I just want to sen this as a way of saying...I quit. You are out of my life. I am sick of wondering what the hell I did to piss you off, and have realized that it is you that has the problem and not me. Take these glasses, and remember where they came from, becuase that is all you will ever get from me again.

So am I crazy to do this...or am I getting closure here? I'm mailing this package on Tuesday....so any and all of your opinions will be considered in this one. (NOTE: If I decide to not send these...there is a space available in my cabinets for them right now)

Random thoughts for a Friday

• Monica Lewinski got a $1 million book deal for writing a book about sucking off the president. I on the other hand am lucky if I get dinner and a movie....or sometimes even a phone call. I should have been a woman.



• Brittany Spears gets married as a "joke". If that was a joke...I say make the stupid chick laugh in divorce court while her childhood friend demands alimony! And she feels she is a role model for young girls. Face it...Brittany boobs is a marketing concept gone sick.



• If a man speaks in the woods, and no woman is around to hear him...is he still wrong?



• People run their credit cards and bills up to enormous balances and then declare bankruptcy. Why can't the US Government do this with the budget deficit?



• The woman that got $4 million for suing Mcdonalds after spilling hot coffee in her crotch. I wish I had thought of that before wasting all those years in college



• We spend our lifetime pulling our underwear out of the crack of our ass....WHY WOULD WE WEAR A THONG AND INTENTIONALLY PUT THE UNDERWEAR UP IN THERE?



• The idea of aerobic exercise is to get our heart rates up, but cigarettes and coffee do this already.



• Men have all the power and all the money, but women can have as many orgasms as they want. I'd say it's a fair trade off. Once again...I should have been a woman.



• The reason why conservatives don't want gays to marry is that they realize the ugly bridesmaid dress businesses will have to close.



• Why do I keep getting spam mail saying that my penis size can be increased if I've never had any complaints. Who forwarded my name?



• Donald Trump...bad haircut...or bad comb over?



• Was the Viagra pill colored blue to allude to "blue balls"?



• You have to kiss a lot of frogs in order to find your prince charming. This was why I bought stock in Chapstick. My dating life alone has cause the stock to split.



• Why is it when I tell some people that I am gay, they will mention other friends who are gay and ask if I know them? "I'm sorry...I'll have to check the membership directory. When did he last pay his dues?"



• Ever notice that "Valium" and "Mother" have the same amount of letters in them. THAT IS INTENTIONAL.



• Would it help my dating life if I advertised in the paper that my bed has a "Space for Rent"?



• I suffer from foot and mouth disease. The minute I see a cute gay man, I insert my foot into my mouth.



• It's not the size of the wand, but rather the magic of the wizard.



• For the amount of money I would need to pay monthly to get health insurance, I'd be better off just going to the doctor when I am sick.



• Football...men jumping on top of other men and knocking them to the ground....and they call me gay?

No more tears?

Well I've talked about love on this blog before...so it is only right to talk about the other side of the coin. What happens when you fall out of love? I have my reasons for writing this, as I personally know of someone about to face this challenge and I'm not sure what to tell her.

She has been in a long term relationship with the same person over the past 9 years. This is her first love, and for a very long time, she felt that this man was perfect for her. Plans were made, lives became intertwined, his and her friends became "their" friends, and they were commonly referred to as "JohnandYoko" instead of "John" and "Yoko" (obviously these names are changed). Families know each other and nobody (except me) has been told or has seen their problems.

However over the past two years, things have changed. Sexual Intimacy between the two of them has stopped happening altogether, and even though she and he say the words "I love you" she realizes that things have changed for her. She feels that she loves him as a friend now. She still cares deeply for him, but he does not fulfill her needs completely.

This is a bit unfamiliar territory for me as usually when a relationship has ended for me, we both had very good intuition that it was about to happen and the minute one of us said the words "We need to talk", the pressure was lifted and we hugged and said goodbye.

In her case, he is beginning to talk marriage, and having children. She realizes that this is not what needs to happen, but she is also worried on so many different levels. She worries about disappointing his parents, losing "their" friends, the fact that they have joint financial debts that will need to be worked out.

She's afraid to break up with him, as being alone in your 30's is a lot different than being alone in your 20's. She feels guilty wondering what people will think of her when she announces her decision. And most importantly, she dreads hurting the man she is involved with. And when I asked her why would she want to remain in the relationship, she can't give me a very good answer, so she understands that she is only holding him back as well.

She actually wishes he would cheat on her, so she can just blame it on him and end it, or that he would take the move and say it's over. When she looks at him, she sees nothing but a close friend anymore, and it makes it hard for her to look at him in the eye.

So she keeps getting a song stuck in her head.

No More Tears (Enough Is Enough)

It's raining, it's pouring
My lovelife is boring me to tears, after all these years
No sunshine, no moonlight, no stardust, no sign of romance
We don't stand a chance

I've always dreamed I found the perfect lover
But he turned out to be like every other man
Our love, our love
Raining (raining)
Pouring (pouring)
There's nothing left for us here
And we won't waist another tear

If you've had enough, don't put up with his stuff, don't you do it
If you've had your fill, get the check pay the bill, you can do it
Tell him to just get out,
Nothing left to talk about
Pack his raincoat show him out
Just look him in the eye and simply shout:

Enough is enough
I can't go on, I can't go on no more no
Enough is enough
I want him out, I want him out that door now

Enough is enough
That's enough
If you've reached the end, don't pretend that is right when it's over

(it's over)
If the feeling is gone don't think twice just move on, get it over
(over, over)

Tell him to just get out, say it clearly, spell it out:
Enough is enough is enough
I can't go on, I can't go on no more no
Enough is enough is enough
I want him out, I want him out that door now

Enough is enough
That's enough

I've always dreamed to find the perfect lover,
But he turns out to be like every other man
Our love (I had no choice from the start)
Our love (I've gotta listen to my heart)
Our love (Tearing us apart)

Enough is enough is enough
I can't go on, I can't go on no more no
Enough is enough is enough
I want him out, I want him out that door now

Enough is enough
That's enough

No more tears (No more tears)
Enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough
I've had it, you've had it he's had it, we've had is
I always dreamed I find the perfect lover,
But he turned out to be like every other man

I had no choice from the start
I've gotta listen to my heart
Tearing us apart
Enough is enough is enough
I can't go on, I can't go on no more no
Enough is enough is enough
I want him out, I want him out that door now
Goodbye mister, goodbye, goodbye mister
Goodbye sugar
It's raining, it's pouring,
There's nothing left for us here
And we won't waist another tear
No more tears
Is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough
Is enough!



I know some of your stories, and some of you have been divorced, so what are your thoughts on this? How does it end gracefully? Can it end gracefully?

This is what I woke up to this morning!

And it's going to keep snowing all day today...

I'm sure he's thinking..."Nice Boots!"

New York City Pictures!

NYC PICTURES
Click on the picture to get an enlarged view
Chicago	Mama Mia	Wicked
cheescake	Times Square	The Village
me	Arial view	Arial 2

Stunned and flabbergasted

So I get a call from Jason last night as I am finishing work. This was the person I had made the steaks for a little over a week ago. He wants to know how I am feeling, seeing that I've lost my voice and can barely breath without coughing. So he makes the offer to cook dinner for me and take down my Christmas decorations (normally I have them down by the 6th of January, but with this cold, all free time has been spent laying in bed). So I accept his offer, and when I get home from work, I give him a call. He comes over bringing the items needed to make fettucini alfredo (with sauteed portabello mushrooms and asapargus), garlic toast, a tossed salad with a vinegarette dressing, and a bottle of white wine.
He cooks me dinner, then pops in a DVD which we both watched called Head Over Heels. Very campy humor, but it was really funny, especially the blonde woman named Cindi. I'd reccomend it for a cheapo rental, but not for a movie theater price.

So after the movie, Jason, takes down my tree, packs it away, wraps all my light cords, and puts everything away in the basement. Whoever snags this man's heart is in for an incredible life, as he can be one of the sweetest people. I sitting here at work still just amazed that someone would do that for me. So if he ever reads this...A BIG THANK YOU JASON!!!

Freaking Comment System!!!!

So after attempting to view my website from home throughout the evening, I realized I had a problem as my site was causing a fatal error regardless what browser I was using. So...I look into it, and find out my comment system went boom! So I had to enter my site with a debugging program from work to fix the errors. New York Pictures will be posted tonight then.

Peeking at Peter

So I've returned from New York, still sick and only partly frozen (well maybe a bit more than partly). It was freaking cold! So cold, you questioned your sanity about going out in the first place. I, however, am not really sane.

Friday Night

Plane lands at 6:10 pm, take a step out of the airport and feel my blood start turning to ice. Get a cab that was driven by Usuma Bin Laden's brother, and begin fighting the traffic of Rush hour. Now for those of you that have never been to New York, or have never rode in a NYC cab, the rules are simple. NEVER LOOK OUT THE FRONT WINDOW. The site is enough to scare even a stunt man. So while weaving in and out of traffic, cutting off busses, cars, and the occasional bike I noticed I was freezing. I asked Mohammad (that was the name on his displayed license) if he could turn the heat on. "I am sorry my friend, the heat is broke". So I shivered as we cut across Central Park and finally arrived at the Holiday Inn on West 57th street. This area is also known as Hell's Kitchen. It's a few blocks from the theater district and Times Square.

I only had a few minutes to check in and then take off for the comedy club. So check in, drop off the stuff, and head out of the lobby to hail one more cab. This driver....I'll call him Yesmon. The reason....whatever you asked him, he would say..."Yes, Mon!" Take me to Jersey (where the comedy club was located)! "Yes, Mon!" "Don't take me through the Holland Tunnel!" "Yes, Mon!" So of course...he took me through the Holland tunnel. I hate the Holland tunnel as when you go through it during rush hour, you get stuck under ground. Knowing that the water is above my head is bad enough. Breathing all the automobile exhaust that is in the tunnel bothers me even worse. Add to it that I am still sick, and my voice is pretty much trashed. We finally get to the club 40 minutes later (and nearly $50 in cab fare).

The shows were pretty sparse...with a lot of no shows. The weather kept most people from coming. It was 2 degrees out with a wind chill of -20 degrees. The audience did give me sympathy as my voice was beginning to go. I explained that I was really sick, and as the audience all went "awww" I chimed in..."No I'm really sick. Like in Beaches. When Barbara Hershey coughs, you just know it's over. But I'm taking care of myself..." and I light up a cigarette (ironic...since I don't smoke).

Good audience, and I applaud them all for braving the cold. I of course, froze my noogies off waiting for the bus to take me back to Manhattan. I really thought I was going to freeze to death. I could see the papers now. Gay Popsicle Found in Jersey. You could put a sign around my neck that says "Eat Me!"

Bus finally came and dropped me off at the Port Authority Station. I hailed a cab from there. Got back to the room and turned on the individual heating controls to 85. Dreamed that I was in hell, but at least I was warm.

Saturday

Woke up Saturday morning, with absolutely no voice at all. I tried steam, lemon water, salt gargles...and nothing. So I contacted the comedy club, and we arranged to meet for a sound check. The microphone wouldn't even pick me up enough, so the manager of the club made the decision to cancel my Saturday opening act. He knows a local that can sub out for me. I thanked him profusely and offered to pay my flight back as a consolation. He said not to worry about it, but that I can owe him a favor later.

So back to Manhattan...to shop! I've got nothing else to do now, so why not. Walk into Macy's Men's store and there is a line about 30 people long buying scarves, hats and gloves. I pick up a scarf, ear muffs, and gloves and walk to a different section to pay for them. Warmer now...I head down to the village for a little additional shopping. Buy two shirts at this one place and then have a pancake lunch at this place called "DOMO". $3.95...who says you can't eat cheap in NYC? Spend a little time working my way back to the subway, stopping in stores to warm up as the wind is so damn cold. The Starbucks has a poor girl working with a winter coat on. The tempature in the place was a balmy 55 degrees. She said the heater was working at it's maximum, but the windows were leaking too much cold air.

Had dinner at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company in Times Square. I hate Times Square, as it is so damn touristy. And even more, I hate tourist trap restaurants...but when you are sick, the closer to the hotel...the better. Needless to say, the BBQ burger I had...well I couldn't really taste it, so I guess it was good.

Got a call from Angelo, a friend of a friend, saying that he and his Partner would be at the Angus restaurant and bar, which was across from the Phantom of the Opera's Theater. Angelo's partner Mike works as a production manager for Thoroughly Modern Millie on Broadway. I sit at the table with them, as actor upon actor walks by. I'm introduced to Kate Buddeke who is playing Mazeppa in Gypsy.

I look at the next table and I see the man I had a crush on all through high school. This is the man I was destined to be with (at least that was what I though at the age of 15).
Matthew Broderick


So the whole conversation at our table, I am desperately trying to get a good glimpse at this man. As he finishes his meal, he gets up and walks to the bathroom. I make my excuse at the table and race across the restaurant following him. He is standing at the urinal, so I stand at the urinal next to him. I look upwards, thinking..."This is a horrible way to meet someone", and can't think of anything to say. Now "Bad Patrick" tells me to take a peek, while "Good Patrick" tells me I should keep my eyes on the road. I give in, and sneak a peek at Matthew's Broderick's Peter. Ladies and gentlemen, what I wouldn't have done for a camera phone at that moment! What I can say...shower...not a grower!

The rest if the trip was a blur. I'm still sick as a dog, and my voice is completely gone. I wrapped in blankets all day Sunday, but I do have some pictures I will post later this evening.

START SPREADING THE NEWS

It's off to NYC today to do a show in the city of all cities! This is like a home coming as every time I go back to the city, as I used to live there in the late 80's. I only wish I could stay there longer. Maybe I'll be lucky and I'll get discovered, and when I get back, I can pack my luggage and move back to the city! Then again...maybe I'll just get lucky... :-) Wonder twins power...to the rescue...form of...A desperate gay man...oh wait...that doesn't change me.

I'm going to see if an old friend wants to meet at one of the bars in Midtown (a bar where all the models hang out). Nothing like feeling inferior to a bunch of beautiful and stupid people. You may look pretty now, but beauty fades...dumb lasts forever.

I won't be able to post until I get back, but I've brought the digital camera, so I'll have lots of pictures to upload while I am there. You all have a great weekend...I'm having beans for lunch.

The Doyle Family Curse

I have to admit it...my family has been cursed with a secret power, which we can put to use for good or evil. This power is passed down through heredity to each of the Doyle clan, to the point where I can always tell when one of my kin is close. We Doyle's are very flatulent...to the point where our gas is a weapon that the US government wants to capitalize on.

Now as I have grown up into adult hood, I have had to learn how to control this power, and later how to harness it for the greater good. In my early teens (this power seems to develop with puberty), I found myself having difficulty controlling the curse. Within 20 minutes of eating, I would grow very uncomfortable in class at my desk, and would resolve to relieve the pressure by breaking wind silently and slowly, in hopes that nobody would discover that poor innocent me was the perpetrator. The curse however...was determined to let itself be known by being both silent, and deadly. Twelve year old children are VERY QUICK TO ACCUSE!

I learned in middle school that certain phrases worked well. "He who smelt it, dealt it." and the perfect cover of looking at someone else with a very disapproving glance that other students would witness. Like Martha Stewart...I learned that shifting the blame was a good thing.

By the time I was in college, I had realized that I had a power but at times it still was not under my full control. I was performing the role of Tom in the Glass Menagerie at the University when the curse took over. During the dinner scene, I began to "cut the cheese". Unfortunately for the other actors, the "cheese" was Limburger. In the middle of the dinner scene I let loose with something so rank that even I was having problems breathing, let alone eating on stage. The tears in my castmates eyes were enough to say that the stench of sulfur, rotting eggs, and skunk was nearly killing her...yet she did not break character. She also never forgot after that night, and for each show afterwards, she asked that I take Gas-X (sort of my green kryptonite).

It wasn't until I was with my friend Rachel in a dance club that I realized I had a power I could harness. A slimy man would not leave her alone, even when we went onto a crowded dance floor. He kept trying to grind up against her, pressing his groin against her backside. I looked at her in the eyes and said "Breath through your mouth". She did as I asked and within 30 seconds, I had cleared a space on the floor of at least 15 feet in diameter. She gave the slimy man the most disgusted look and we both stormed off the floor while the rest of the crowd stared at this poor fool.

I had discovered a new talent, and I have used it to my advantage ever since. While working in a country club, the members were the most pompous A**holes I have ever met in my life. They felt they were special because they paid $10,000 a year to play on a golf course. The wait and bartending staff would be treated very poorly by these snobs, and regularly would be stiffed tips. I with the rest of the wait staff had a dinner of baked beans, cabbage, and hard boiled eggs two hours before the restaurant opened. Not one patron of the club was spared, and one member complained that he believed the sewage system may be backing up.

Most recently I have used this my weapon to get out of a bad situation. I was working a job, and unfortunately was going to get reprimanded for something that was partly my fault. I took full responsibility for what I had done incorrectly, but the others involved blamed their mishaps on my doing as well. My boss scheduled a meeting with me to have a stern "talking" to. I realized I was going to quit this job (I hated it and wanted out anyway), so I ate a dinner that would have made a normal persons intestines explode...16 bean soup!

Going into my bosses office that morning, I realized I had Snap's song "I Got the Power" stuck in my head. My boss started by showing me a letter that she was going to put in my file. I was determined to stay in her office (with the door closed) as long as I could. Within 5 minutes, I needed to breath though my mouth. The poor woman was very distracted, and very obviously wanted out of the room, but I continued the conversation. By the end of 15 minutes, she said she had a "meeting she had to get ready for". I asked her what meeting, as her calendar was empty when I checked before we started. I needed to talk to her about some other issues with the office. I stalled, talked about a number of things, and at the end of an hour, the woman had opened a window (although it was February). At that point I turned in my resignation.

So the next time you are at a movies or the grocery store, and you walk into a stench that feels like you have walked into a wall, call out the name Doyle, and see who answers.

And remember....Confucius says: "He who farts in church...sits alone in pew"

The Philosophy of Vodka

So I spent yesterday evening with the person I had the fillet steaks with on Saturday. He made a massive trip to the grocery store and asked if I wanted to come along. Shopping with a cute single guy??? How domestic! Count me in (I actually enjoy this as you can learn a lot about a person from just watching what they buy at the grocery store).

After shopping, we went back to our prospective places and got changed to go out for a few drinks. Stopped off at Union Station, had 3 Cape Cods and finished off at Twist with a Cosmopolitan.

The conversation turned to a bit of philosophy. The question that was raised was What exactly is love? Now I am going to preface this by saying that this is something that I had never thought a lot about before, so I did seem to be a bit wishy-washy on the whole issue. The following were my friend's thoughts:

I believe when you love someone, you put them first above yourself. In return, they put you first above all else as well. Since you are both putting yourselves first, you can coexist happy.

My thoughts: It seems like a lot of codependency that relies on both people ALWAYS communicating what it is that they want from the other person and what they want in life. I think that can be a bit unrealistic as 1)We don't always know what we want from life, and 2) We don't always communicate it.

Do I have a definition of what love is? Well I'm not really sure either. These are the tales of a comic looking for a soulmate or soul...but if I have to define it, I think it has to do with sharing your life with someone, and that means all of your life...good and bad.

My friend disagreed on that issue, as he "already shares his life with all of his friends and family". So we never did come to a consensus as to what love was.

The dictionary says:
love. loved, lov·ing, loves v. tr.

1. To have a deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward (a person): We love our parents. I love my friends.


2. To have a feeling of intense desire and attraction toward (a person).


3. To have an intense emotional attachment to: loves his house.


4. To embrace or caress.


5. To have sexual intercourse with.


6. To like or desire enthusiastically: loves swimming.

None of this really helps, so I pose the question to anyone...What does it mean to love? and How does one love?

Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round

So Saturday...60 degrees, I was painting that room in short sleeves. Saturday night, it was raining. Sunday snow and ice rain. Monday night...snow. Today...It's so cold I think I just shriveled up and turned into a woman. It is so cold my nipples could cut glass! Where's Brad Pitt when I need him?...just looking at him gets me warm. :-)

So I have written this post over and over today and I just can't seem to get the words to flow. I find this very interesting as a week ago, I posted a really long post that I composed in less than an hour. My writer's block seems to be running in a cycle, and that's when I really started to look at life and noticed that nearly everything in this world runs in a cycle (except for time).

We hear that history repeats itself....and if that's true, am I doomed to get into failing relationships? I see society and notice we are making the same mistakes we were making 20 years ago in the 80's. Real Estate prices are going up rapidly and people are putting themselves further in debt....when does it end? When do the bill collectors come a knocking?

Maybe I can be fatalistic, but I don't see this economy stabilizing yet. The Rubbermade Corporation just laid off 700 people here, Office Max (whose corporate headquarters is in Cleveland) just merged with Boise Cascade, and will be letting go of all duplicate employees in the next few weeks. More importantly, if people quit buying things because they are maxing their debt out, it's going to crush the economy for the worst.

A very smart financial analyst said that for every year of a bull market, we will have a year of a bear market to follow. If this is the case, people....we've got 4 more years of this economy, and I question how many of us will survive it.

A weekend in review.

So when I last posted, I had stated I had never cooked a steak before. Call it being raised by a vegetarian mother, and the fact since I've been on my own, I've found meat to be so expensive. I can get a lot of vegetables and some pork chops for the cost of 2 filet mignons.

That being said, this was a special evening I was planning, and since his favorite meal was steak, and I so rarely cook dinner for anyone, I wanted to do it right. Bill wins the prize for giving me a great recipe to work from (ok...previously I said Brent...forgive me...I took cold medication today). I used his idea and worked from there. Marinade consisted of Onion powder, garlic powder, fresh rosemary, olive oil, and soy sauce. I bought the best steaks I could afford at a market that only sells free range meat ($32.95/Lb.). Cooked them in the broiler for about 8 minutes, and they were perfect. The rest of the weekend?

So since I was off Friday night from the dinner, I met the bowling team and once again bowled my worst. I keep watching my average fall further and further, but really...I don't care. I joined this league to have a good time, not win or lose. I can't even remember what my scores were (although I can say...they were really bad...something under 100).

Saturday morning, I went to Kerri's house to help her paint her upstairs bathroom. Kerri loves to decorate, and she had chosen a rich chocolate brown for her bathroom walls, and wanted to wall paper two walls with this really nice wallpaper she had found. Initial time estimate was 5 hours on Saturday morning. Actual time it took to finish...9 hours (over a 2 day period), but that was because the room's woodwork and ceilings were not taped off.

Now I admit...I am a perfectionist, especially when I paint indoor rooms, but I also really enjoy doing it. I love changing an entire look of a room with just a couple of gallons of paint. This room went through a dramatic change.

So Saturday evening, I cooked the steaks for my friend. Now the two of us are not classifying what we are at this point besides friends. So this was sort of a combo of friends getting together/sort of a date thing. I'm calling it a "freight" (I.E...two friends on a date). We've both been burned pretty badly in the past 6 months, and are just spending time together. If it grows into something more...then we can go from there. Neither of us wants to hurt the other, and we are agreeing to keep the lines of communication open between us. Mostly though...neither of us wants to complicate our lives right now with something besides friends, so this is the best for our current situation.

Watching him in the dark room by the light of a television on Saturday, I was just struck by how distinctive his features are. Most importantly though, I find I really enjoy speaking with him as I don't try to hide portions of myself. I find I can tell him almost anything, nearly as much as I tell my therapist (She alone knows everything...poor woman).

So we had a wonderful meal, the Pinot Noir was a really smooth wine (a birthday present from last year), and afterwards, we just sat on the futon (I will get rid of that thing for a sofa soon), and enjoyed each other's company.

Sunday, we went to a Diana's restaurant (AKA Dirty Diana's) for dinner and rented Leagally Blonde. I have to say this...I loved this film. It was hilarious, and had I known it was this good, I would have spent the bucks to see it in the movies, as opposed to waiting for video. Now I need to rent the second movie.

I've noticed I'm rambling with this writing but I think it has to do with taking two Contact cold and flu pills. My sinuses were telling me that I might be coming down with something, so in case I took the pills. Now...it a bit hard to concentrate.

Thwarted Dinner Plans

So I was planning to have someone over for dinner tonight at my home. Fillet Mignon, Asparagus, Baked Sweet Potatos, and a nice bottle of red wine. I'm a little nervous as I've never even cooked a steak before, but I suddenly received a cell phone call saying that he can't make it until tomorrow night. Not a problem...I get to sleep tonight now! That and do my laundry. Woo-hoo!

Next comedy show...Jan 10th...NYC! I'm flying out on Friday Afternoon and staying till Sunday!

A Couple of Red Eyes

So the New Years Eve celebrations started with me and the parents heading into the city for a wonderful dinner which consisted of some Chilean Sea Bass with capers and sharing a pitcher of fresh made home made Sangria wine at a friends house. Then off to a dance club with mom and "dad" for a bit of dancing. Started dancing with a really hot muscle guy who knew how to move, only to have my mom pull me away. Muscle guy's boyfriend wasn't pleased that I was dancing with his man. I thought mom wanted me to have a polymorus relationship?

Started dancing with some other really cute guys, hands start wondering, and mom is pulling me away. What the hell is the matter with me? Uhh....wait..."What was in that Sangria wine?" Mom just smiles. This summed up my state of mind that night.

BABY BOY by Beyonce Knowles

BABY BOY YOU STAY ON MY MIND
FULFILL MY FANTASIES
I THINK ABOUT YOU ALL THE TIME
I SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS

BABY BOY NOT A DAY GOES BY
WITHOUT MY FANTASIES
I THINK ABOUT YOU ALL THE TIME
I SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS

PICTURE US DANCIN REAL CLOSE
IN A DARK DARK CORNER OF A BASEMENT PARTY
EVERY TIME I CLOSE MY EYES
IT'S LIKE EVERYONE LEFT BUT YOU AND ME

IN OUR OWN LITTLE WORLD
THE MUSIC IS THE SUN
THE DANCE FLOOR BECOMES THE SEA
FEELS LIKE TRUE PARADISE TO ME

BABY BOY YOU STAY ON MY MIND
FULFILL MY FANTASIES
I THINK ABOUT YOU ALL THE TIME
I SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS

BABY BOY NOT A DAY GOES BY
WITHOUT MY FANTASIES
I THINK ABOUT YOU ALL THE TIME
I SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS

BABY BOY YOU STAY ON MY MIND
BABY BOY YOU ARE SO DAMN FINE
BABY BOY WON'T YOU BE MINE



So here it is the First of January, and I'm very glad to be traveling on the redeye, with my two bleary, bloodshot, red eyes across the country back to Cleveland. I'm coming back to the Midwest, a bit renewed, ready to face some things that I wasn't ready to face before, and actually over some really hard times that 2003 had given me. January's resolution? I'll figure it out tomorrow.

HAPPY FREAKING BIRTHDAY CJ!!!!!!!

You are always going to be my favorite New Years Baby!