Just where we left off....

Last Friday friends from the wee little town of Sauk City Wisconsin were here to visit. I have known these two since we were wee as well. Shawna and I went to the same sunday school. She was a "town kid" and I a "country kid" and somehow we still managed to get along, just as Rodney King has asked us to do. Her husband Scott was a "town catholic kid" and therefore we ran into him in middle school. We were all pals in high school doing the typical things that kids did for fun in the '80's in a small town in the midwest. Drink in cornfields. Do "laps" in town, cruising from Sauk to Prairie. Drive to Madison and shop. Eventually they got married although they never dated on another in high school. I was in the wedding and I like these two so much that they even managed to get me to wear a pink sleeveless dress with white arm length gloves. Add in big hair. Quite the sight to be adored. Or not. Miss B and I had them over for dinner and it was a great night chatting about the world today and the differences from big city to wee towns. What I like the most about these two is that even though they live in a wee city, they aren't townies. They have experienced and understand that there is life beyond small town USA and don't criticize those whom choose to live outside of it or are different from them. It's also always nice to see friends whom even though you only see once per year, it's as though you just saw them yesterday.

Another friend like this is in town today. He is a pal from Peace Corps and we call him Chief. He lived here in the bay area for a few years with his special lady friend at the time and it was great to have him so close. Eventually he left to go to get a PhD at Michigan. He's the best thing since sliced bread and always brings a smile to my face.

Thank the LARD for people such as these!

Post Vacation Blues

Vacation has come and gone. My word how I miss the beach. This year was relaxing, as always. The schedule as dictated in the previous post was repeated without much variation. Some may see this as boring. Not me. It truly is a vacation when there isn't a care in the world and the only real requirement is to sit on my bum, look at the ocean, giggle, and hang out with Miss B. Oh Provincetown, the vacation which really is a vacation. The tan is fading fast which is unfortunate but it is good to report that one one burned excessively this year. It was all about SPF 30 and staying out of the sun, underneath the umbrella at the right times. The weather was perfect and lobster tasty. Looking forward to year number seven already.

Getting there is an amazing trek. This year the cheapest tickets were found out of Oakland on JetBlue. A lovely airline company. Everyone gets their own television and it's the Dish Network! Mind you, Miss B and I do not have cable at home therefore watching TV really doesn't happen in our household. At best, there is a tendency to get hooked on series which have come out on DVD but that's it. With 6.5 hours of television in front of me it was time to channel surf and see what's out there these days. Guess what? It's still several channels full of crap! The new series Being Bobby Brown is hideous however it's difficult to look away and I was in for at least 4 episodes. Whitney Houston is a M-E-S-S mess and this beats the Osbournes hands down when it comes to tallying up episodes of family disfunction. An extra special added treat was the showing of Napoleon Dynamite. Even more hilarious the second time around! With all this video connectivity, sleeping didn't happen and by the time we hit the ground in Boston, Miss B and I were delirious from no sleep and empty bellies. We then took a bus to the ferry, ferry to the hotel where after some waiting oceanside for the folks to clean up our vacation rental, we were allowed to shower and nap until Douglas and Carl arrived. Much needed sleep! We did the reverse commute on the way back and let me tell you, trekking to the east coast is not easy.

Since then, being motivated to be at work and actually working has been extremely difficult. One thing I did figure out last week is that in the work I do, there is just no end. In some professions there is a clear start and end. It's easy to define when a project is to begin and when it's done. With this one, that isn't the case. It's all what ifs or contingency planning which may or may not be reviewed and often times once the analysis is completed, the response is "Oh, well, actually, we don't need this anymore, can you look into XYZ and have it to me by Friday?. Frustrated? Yes, I think so. I need a job where I can come in, get a bunch of work done and not worry about it until the next day when I come back into work. Stuff I can complete within a day or less. And get paid millions. Or better yet, not have to work at all and still get paid. Yeah, that's happening soon, I'm sure of it.

There was a lack of sleep in our household this weekend. Our neighbors went out of town and forgot to disengage their alarm clock which was hooked up to the stereo, which in turn was set for 5AM. Yesterday after going to bed on Saturday night at 1Am we were awoken to several bad songs which played until 9AM at top volume. There was no getting away from it. It went off today as well but they were home and caught it after a few minutes of blasting us out of slumber. So I'm sleepy and PMSy. Makes you want to call and hang out, right?

Oh, if you have the chance AND have a strong stomach, go see the new documentarty called "The Aristocrats". The inteview with Phyllis Diller makes it all worth it. Mind you, only attend if you have a strong stomach and are humored by severely vulgar imagery. Went with A and listening to her giggle throughout the whole thing made it all worthwhile!

Provincetown here we come!

Since 1999 I have been making the trek from San Francisco to Boston via airplane. From there the ferry is boarded to make the way to Provincetown, MA. Meeting up with friends from NYC and Washington DC, I clearly win the "travel furthest distance to be here" award and it's totally worth every mile. The beach in Provincetown is phenomenal and nothing like the west coast. Not saying there is anything wrong with west coast beaches, they are simply different and supply an array of atheistics, just not the same ones. In Ptown, the sand is white and sun warm. Water is calm enough to float on an inflatable raft for hours. Each year we stay at a place called the "White Village". It's a total 1970's decorated flat with knotty pine to match. Three bedrooms, a kitchen, living room to hang out in to play cards and chat, all near the beach. The crew whom attends has the week down to a perfect science and getting to the beach operates like a well oiled machine. Awake by 9am. Coffee brewed. Apply a thick coat of sunscreen EVERYWHERE as to avoid the "ass of fire" in the evening. Lunches packed. Hit the store near the White Village for whatever we may need that day. (magazines, newspapers, sodas, hangover cures) Set up shop at the beach with chairs, blankets, and umbrellas. Make fun of all the mullets and horrid gay fashion surrounding us. Taking turns going into the ocean to cool off. Reading. Watching the sunset. Pack it all up. Stop at the store to pick up groceries for dinner. Douglas and I cook while others shower. Eat a massive yummy meal. (One or two nights we do go to town for lobster. LOBSTER!) I bartend (this is where the email address ptownpoolboy comes from if you ever wondered) and we all sit around telling silly stories, having cocktails (sometimes not), and playing cards or games while listening to music. It all starts again the next day at 9am. Now that is a vacation! No hassles. No drama. No TV or computer. It's pure bliss on the beach. This is the first year I will actually have someone attending with me. Miss B has met some of the folks who will be there and am sure she will keep up with Douglas and Carl no problem. We will be there from Saturday to Saturday and can't wait! The SPF 30 is already purchased and books packed for reading. Bring on the sun!

Meeting the Devil--and he's Irish

On Monday there clearly was no reason to go to work. It had been a year since the last time I phoned it in ill so why not, right? This of course went hand in hand meeting an Irish guy named Richard who can drink like I have never seen. And he loves to get others to join in the fun. Sunday was spent in the park with Miss B and sensitive asshole. It was a lovely day. Sunny, warm, and minimal wind which is odd in San Francisco. Dolores was jam packed with all sorts of folks. Some sort of cult to our left praying for extended periods of time. A kid's birthday party. Some couples wedding shower. The gay boy beach was somewhat unpopulated for a sunny Sunday due to Dore Alley being in progress. We sat around and chatted about silly things and just hung out. Eventually the Bear in Training called to let me know they had taken up post at the Wild Side West, the neighborhood bar in Bernal on Cortland. It was nearing 6pm and time to depart anyway so off we went to hang out in the local garden of drinking. Upon arrival the boys had the back to themselves, having chased away all the lesbians. OK, maybe not but it sure looked that way. I'm sure they were all at home gardening as opposed to sipping beers at the bar. It appeared to break from my non-consumption of alcohol mold and have a beer. I then felt like having another. The Irishman came into full swing influential mode and talked us all into going to Chaise Lounge, the new fancy lesbian hangout on the corner of Cortland and Bocana. Fancy it is. And pretty full too. It was a far cry from the Lexington Club which is good news. Not a Mission troll in the place. Fancy girls wearing fancy clothing. Not sure where these ladies were from. Did a bus from LA drop them off? Two more beers in there Misty got ahold of the Bear and off to Cafe du Nord we went to catch a local band. Had another beer and by this point, tripled the alcohol consumption intake I'd had in an entire year. Don't really have to spell out for you the condition I was in and it didn't really feel that good. Miss B had a "gincident" in that replace the number of beers I had with gin and that was her total. Hammered anyone? Oi. Eventually I started drinking bubbly water and worked the road back to somewhat sober. We went to the restaurant Home where I made some very poor choices regarding meatloaf. I must have been drunk--I ordered meatloaf for pete's sake on a stomach full of beer! It came to haunt me later on that evening and will leave it at that. To finish up the circuit we then went to the Pilsner, Sadlands, and Moby Dick. Hello, gay boys for the evening? I think so! This evening (or should I say the day after) reminded me exactly why I don't drink in large amounts anymore. I felt gross for the majority of the morning on Monday. The picture above is 5 beers in and not so pretty. Well, Misty is pretty. I'm just drunk.

Miss B and I did eventually make it out of the house on Monday to have a lovely tea house session with A and my favorite Bear. We met up at the Shambala house and drank lovely iced tea and the silliest conversations ever about lady shoes and A's power over animals, among other things. What a fantastic way to spend a Monday!

Running report: Miss B and I ran 5.5 miles this week and didn't fall over from exhaustion! This coming Saturday will be 6 miles! Hooray!!!!!