Thursday, June 26, 2008

Laptop Assholes

I can't believe I forgot to mention that the previous post was written in the lovely confines of 6 North again. Steve and I shared another day off today and I had initially suggested a trip to the pool. Since the day dawned cloudy with threats of storms, we decided not to waste the money on pool admission. I suggested a day of laptop assholery at the coffee shop instead and he agreed. We got there around 10am and I got my croissant, iced latte and Steve's chai from a rather stupid and unhelpful girl. Quite unlike the baristas on my first trip with Michael. We got ourselves nice and comfy and I took a chance and called Michael to see if he wanted to be an asshole with us. Happily, he agreed and showed up about 45 minutes later. We ended up staying for almost five hours and it was a lot of fun. Steve watched baseball on his computer, I wrote, Michael wrote and we surfed a while, checking out a curious assortment of penis bondage gear and chastity equipment for both sexes. Michael also sent me to a gay D/s online store and we shall not speak of that again. In the course of our conversation we discussed something in St. Louis called The Club, which turns out to be a gay bath house/sauna/gym. I had never heard of it, but Steve was quite familiar and Michael also knew of the place. I was outraged to find out that women are not allowed. Not surprised, but outraged nonetheless. I insisted on driving past its midtown location on our way home. It's fairly unassuming building but I want in! There's an outdoor pool! A dry sauna! And, seriously, I don't mind if there are guys blowing each other around me. Nay! I'd really enjoy that! Let me in, Club!

On our way around town we stopped at the kind of icky thrift store on Delmar at Grand. I got a couple of things I'm rather happy with. These shoes (hey, I'm thrifty; and cute shoes are cute shoes):

And this vintage silk scarf with this tag:

Then we stopped at Home Depot for a new fan. We have a mighty powerful fan at work that I generally hate -- it's noisy and fucking cold. But I'm generally out voted and the damn thing is always on. At home though, with no air conditioning we need a fan with some muscle. So we got this:

Last but not least, here's Michael from the first trip we took to 6 North, and me just a few minutes ago...

See y'all later.

Tell me that you want me/Tell me that you need me/Tell me 'cause I'd like to know/Now!

Holy shit, it's been almost ten days since I've posted. I guess I've been having too much fun to bother writing about it. I wonder if I'll remember all the terribly fun things I've done?

The weekend following the day at the coffeehouse and the unsuccessful shoe shopping trip was fairly quiet. Steve worked late on Friday and all day Saturday, my day off. I will admit to spending rather a lot of time on Friday night and Saturday day with my new best Intarnet friend, Hey, a girl needs some relief; what can I say? I'm a perv. I like amateur porn. I don't know where it came from either, but I'm not one to deny my true nature, so my right hand will continue to get a work out. I'm dealing with it; so can you.

The week following was pretty uneventful. I worked, but not a lot of hours so I had some down time, spent doing not much of anything. On Friday, after working early, I prepared for our monthly DJ gig at the Royale. I was happy that Michael and Marta were slated to come and I found out that Dana and Roy were finally commitment free for the night too. It was a gorgeous evening (with a rain scare during the day I was afraid we'd be stuck indoors) and we set up on the patio with a lovely, cool breeze keeping us cool.

It was a perfect night for my new favorite summer drink, the gin rickey. Admittedly, I began my infatuation with the gin rickey on a purely literary note: it's oft-mentioned in F. Scott Fitzgerald's works. I love Fitzgerald, I enjoy gin, hence I should in theory love a gin rickey. Turns out I do indeed love a gin rickey. Completely devoid of any sweetness, it's basically gin and pure lime juice with a touch of club soda for fizziness. It's perfect for summer and the hangover effects are negligible (unlike the extreme unpleasantness of the day after many sugar-sweet cosmopolitans the previous drinking binge). So gin rickey in hand, we started spinning.

Some nights are harder than others at the Royale, music-wise. A while into our DJ nights, Steve and I began alternating songs rather than the half-hour sets we started out doing. This keeps us both engaged and most definitely challenges us to keep a certain flow going. While it doesn't always work perfectly, last Friday night was one of those magical times that was somewhat effortless. I managed to not wander away drink in hand, as can be my wont, and we played off of each other well. In fact, a couple of our friends in attendance, John W. and Mark D., said we were perfect. Now, that's probably a result of their table drinking a total of at least 24 Sub-Continentals, but I'll take the compliment.

During the course of the evening, Dana and Michael met. As I suspected, they hit it off immediately, even teaming up against me and the house anxiety that has kept me from having either of them over. Marta and Michael had been clamoring for a BBQ for a few weeks so I awoke Saturday morning with the resolve to have a BBQ soon. I checked the work schedule and saw that both Marta and Michael would be available Sunday evening, I texted Dana with the invite to her and Roy and I set about using my day off to clean house, plan, shop and cook. As much as I am anxious about cleaning house, getting our packrat tendencies in check and such, I really love cooking for people and making them comfortable and relaxed.

So, I made marinated London broil, spicy chicken wings, a sort of paella, a citrusy green salad, feta cheese and green olives, pepper cheese with guava jelly, roasted potatoes and onions, and blueberry/strawberry pie. We ate and ate and ate and drank and drank and drank on the deck until the rain forced us inside. At that point I introduced the Sculpturades subset of Cranium and Dana and I kicked the collective asses of Michael, Marta and Steve. Dana and I had a psychic connection and should definitely team up again.

At any rate, Marta stayed until after midnight even though she had to be at work the next day at 4:45am. Still drunk on her pink wine, she apparently got mixed up and actually got to work at 4:15am...Dana went home soon after with her 6:00am wake up time and Michael stayed a while longer as we cleaned up. All in all it was a great time and I can't wait to host again very soon.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Forget your fancy manners/forget your English grammar/'cause you don't really give a damn/about this year's girl

Yesterday evening I got the idea that it would be fun to spend my Tuesday off in a coffeehouse, drinking, eating, and browsing the Intarnet with Michael. I called him early in the a.m. and he sleepily agreed, though his diva nature and morning habits made it another hour before he was even ready to leave home. I couldn't wait any longer and I headed to 6 North to await his arrival.

Is it traitorous to patronize a rival, independent coffeehouse? Or just traitorous to enjoy it so much? The espresso is good, the pastries are good, the free wifi is a bonus and the B.L.T. featuring slices of avocado and chipotle mayo is outstanding. I am definitely coming back here.

It's been a few days since I last wrote. Is it too late to chronicle the drunken debauchery (yeah, I wish) of our (me, Steve, Michael and Michael's friend Chaste Matt) night out last Friday? Perhaps I'll just hit the high (and low points): 1. A bachelorette party at the Loading Zone. Really? Low point, though the bride-to-be did score when she got Steve to pose with her as "a tall guy" for her scavenger hunt. 2. The beautiful emo boys who, alas, left too early. 3. The sadly, pathetically, beautiful rent boy who louched around the joint making eyes at anyone and everyone. The boys in my party were much less sympathetic to this poor child than I. I felt for him and his spoiled fruit beauty. 4. $4 cosmopolitans. High and low. Sugar sweet drinks make me suffer the next day, and I had more than enough of them to cause suffering. 5. The Metro Station,Fall Out Boy and FloRida videos. 6. The man equivalent of Candice Bergen. You'd think maybe high, but definitely low. 7. Heading to Novak's when LZ closed. High. 8. Five dollar cover charge at Novak's. Low. 9. Huge crowd, dancing, and a consistently short line for the ladies room. 10. The girl of my dreams is an employee of Novak's. Sigh. 11. Being felt up and asked repeatedly, "Baby? Vagina? Baby? Vagina?" by a friend of a customer (not even one I like), in the street, at 3 a.m. 12. The killer 12 hour hangover the next day.

Eh, I'm tired of writing and am hankering for shoe shopping.

Friday, June 13, 2008

I firmly believed that I didn't need anyone but me/I sincerely thought I was so complete/Look how wrong you can be

Steve, Michael and I made the Novak's Myspace page! I was pretty excited that they decided to post our photo until I checked and saw that they posted all 4,000 photos they took that night. Ah well, fame is fickle and fleeting, but aren't we fabulous?

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

He's so mercifully free of the pressures of grace/Saint Peter in satin, he's like Buddha with mace

No, I know I won't forget you/But I'll forget myself, if the city will forgive me

Wow, how has a week gotten past me without writing? Because I'm actually doing things other than staring at my computer screen or the television? Well, not a whole lot more, but some.

I forgot to mention that last Tuesday I went to see "Sex and the City" with Michael at the matinee. As I suspected, I loved it. I'm slightly ashamed that I've seen every single episode of the TV series and that I'm intimately familiar with all the plot points. I'm a Big girl all the way (Aidan...bleh. Aleksander...better.) and I lust after Christopher Noth so I was looking forward to the big screen version. I laughed, I cried (rather a lot), I gasped when Big pushed Carrie up against that brick pillar whilst kissing her. Sigh. It was fun; not great art, but it didn't need to be.

Steve and I had the day off on Thursday and we spent the morning running errands and the rest of the day just hanging. I spent some time online with TRex celebrating his birthday; I think he was a little sad about another year passing. While I haven't always been overjoyed to see the birthday numbers piling up, I really try not to sweat the age thing myself. I'm the same person inside, no matter my age. This is where not having big plans for the future pays off -- how can I be a failure if there are no set goals to miss or not?
A rickety structure perhaps, but it works for me. At any rate, after being continually feted by his office mates on Friday, TRex seemed to have gained a level of happy acceptance and I was glad to see it.

Have I talked about the energy supplement I was drinking? After a couple weeks of having it every day, I was feeling fine, but my period was eluding me. I'm a regular gal and it was a bit worrisome. Not only that, but it seemed my sex drive was severely curtailed. I felt happy and energetic, but not at all sexual. Now, that's not a trade off I think I want to make. Happily, our store ran out of the supplements and I was forced to get off the juice anyway. A week and a half or so later and my sex drive returned full force (and my period a couple days later). Having several hours to kill on Friday evening, I began to explore, a video/photo hosting site of the prurient kind, on the recommendation of Michael and Steve (I believe they might have high fived at the bar one night, exclaiming, "Xtube!"). A little while later, I was fully engaged, enjoying myself and becoming a member and amassing some new friends (most of them with really big...amenities...who knew I was a size queen?). Just so you know, poeple make a LOT of videos of themselves doing a lot of things. Some things I really enjoy watching, some not so much. Take, for instance, the guy who dons really tight, unattractive pants and pees in them. Or the guy who pops his junk out a hole in his pants and has a woman squeeze his balls really, really tight, like a balloon, and then punch them hard. That one made me wince. At any rate, I have my groove back.

I worked early Saturday and Sunday and as I left on Sunday, Michael and I planned on meeting up Sunday evening for something to eat and drinks with Steve. After searching the Intarnet for possible locales, we picked Novak's. I wanted to sit outside and I knew they had a nice patio. It was okay; the crowd was sparse, the food was just okay and the drinks weren't going down all that well. Then Michael pulled out a five page blog post his Minneapolis friend wrote after Michael's visit there. It was a very detailed, very intimate account of their time together. I must admit it was difficult for me to read, right there in front of him. Steve was amazed, having never seen me flummoxed over anything sexual, and generally I am unshakeable and infinitely interested in all things sexual. This was different. Maybe if Michael himself had written it, it would have been different. Since it was written about Michael, thus distancing him, and me, a little from it, I felt very voyeuristic. And I'm not much of a voyeur. Oh, and I adore written gay porn; it generally works better for me than the hetero stuff for whatever reason. So feeling, sort of against my will, turned on by a story about my friend made me uncomfortable. It didn't seem right, nor fair (that's the Scorpio in me talking) because Michael will never reciprocate those feeings. Ridiculous, I know, to feel that way, but it was there and I do at least try to be honest about my feelings. I will re-read, alone, some time soon.

Eventually we moved on from the blog and Novak's and headed across the street to Just John. It's a plush and very large bar, but we opted for the more intimate, and rather deserted, patio. Out there we saw a semi-regular customer and one of the best drag queens I've ever laid eyes on. Don't think I would have even suspected had I seen her walking down the street. We didn't stay too long as I had gotten up very early to work that day.

Monday's work day started with some frustration; not unexpected but not welcomed. I got over that and went about my business. I knew I was closing with Michael and that we'd probably meet up with Steve and do some more drinking afterwards, so all was well. As is usual, Michael and I bickered and argued and teased and hugged throughout the evening. I'm sure everyone else at our store is quite over us. Jealous much, people? : ) Michael had been fretting over his Minneapolis friend's weekend with another guy and I offered what I could to put things into perspective and to make him feel better. I get very protective of my friends; I will not accept unworthy behavior from their romantic partners. The people I love and care about deserve only the best. We ended up at the Loading Zone for a few drinks. It was nearly empty and the song/video selection is getting a little repetitious, but it was cheap and the bartender was okay. We decided to head down to SubZero for one last round and some veggie tempura and that place was pretty deserted too. At one point Michael pointed out that we were the closing time assholes we hate at our store so we hastened to get out of their hair. Well, maybe not as fast as they would have liked. Sorry, nice people of SubZero!

Today, a lazy day off. I got up late and have done nothing but cruise the Intarnet, talk on the phone and watch TV. Most of that from the sun-dappled confines of my deck. Perhaps it's time to break out the Xtube...

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

To be the words that never made the page/Be the one that's always/Left out in the rain

When I posted my last estate sale finds, I was vaguely aware that there weren't enough...things to account for my happiness with the sale. I blame the sun frying my brain all the subsequent afternoon that I forgot six of the best things I bought. D'oh.

First, I got two identical metal serving trays, about 18 inches square. I've already put them to use, which is perhaps why I forgot to photograph them immediately.

And then, this set of four leaf trays, made from subtly sparkly plastic. And for all six of these items? Two dollars!

Monday, June 2, 2008

Sweet like the way it was/like swimming for the very first time

Late Saturday afternoon I found out that, due to his co-worker popping some stitches in his knee, Steve would be off work with me on Sunday (it also meant he had to work an 11 hour day on Saturday. It was predicted to be a gorgeous, hot day and I knew I wanted to do something outside, but I had no concrete plans.

We woke up early Sunday morning and Steve, brilliantly, suggested we go to the Sunset Hills pool. What a perfect idea. The pool is one of the few in the area open to non-residents and we've spent a good deal of time there in summers past. It's not one of the new fancy mega-pools, just a basic smallish place that caters to families. It's a testament to how much I love sitting by the pool that I don't even mind, heck, I even enjoy, the constant stream of shouting and splashing children.

But before we hit the pool we wanted to visit an estate sale in nearby Webster Groves. Stepping into the garage it was clear I'd find some good stuff -- the lady loved her paper products and was clearly a most active shopper in the late '60s/early '70s. I immediately grabbed some '70s paper napkins and plates, a little box of really cute post card notes, two hostess sets - one a bridge set and one a set with various napkins, coasters and matches(!), and box of smallish bird print notecards and envelopes.

And finally, I got a nice chunk of '70s kitchen fabric in those classic yellow, red and brown tones. This will definitely become the property of a certain reader if she wants it. I bought it with her in mind.

I also got another very excellent item, but it must remain a secret as it's not for me!

So, on to the pool! It wasn't very crowded and it was getting quite hot when we arrived. Slathered in not very protective tanning oils (me) and SPF 30 (Steve), we proceeded to lounge in the sun, dipping into the pool occasionally. It was kind of like heaven. Some 3+ hours later we gathered up our things and I realized I had not been very prudent about sun protection. Nothing like the season's first sunburn! My face is rather red, and my formerly fish belly white stomach is quite burnt. Hot to the touch and and hurting. But no matter; it'll turn to tan soon enough.

A stop at the grocery store on the way home got the ingredients for a barbeque and we spent the evening on the deck eating and drinking a delicious bottle of fume blanc.

A great day.