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Posts Tagged ‘french fries’

Things have been quiet and so serious here lately, haven’t they? The dating has fallen by the wayside the last few weeks. I own a business and I have been very preoccupied with buying inventory for an upcoming event. It’s one of those yearly events that just always catches me by surprise. Suddenly its three weeks away and I am freaking out, calling vendors and apologizing and kissing the ass of my UPS guy to ensure I get all my packages in time for the event. Then its two weeks away and I’m realizing I don’t have a banner and some of the things I used in past years for display, just won’t cut it if I want a seemless professional presentation. One week away and the day I schedule to ransack the retail shops is Easter. My barista friend has a huge car and a huge heart and is willing to spend his day off driving me all over this godforsaken state. I called ahead, I really did. Of the planned shops to visit, two were open. One had two items I could grab and the other was out of the bookshelves I needed. Shit Shit Shit. So, I spent 7 hours and 6 towns to go to 2 stores and get only some of the things I needed. The other stores, they closed early because it was slow. No shit, that’s why I was shopping that day, because it was going to be quiet! Sigh. Why does ONE religion and the celebration of it’s holidays create such a ripple effect across state and federal levels? We don’t close down stores for Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Sikh, Buddhist, or Pagan holidays, then WHY do we shut down shop for Jesus? I question in a bad economy, whether having stores open later on Easter Sunday is wise. I personally watched 15 cars pull in and out of Home Depot as we had, after realizing they were closed, without a sign stating that they were shutting up early for the holiday. Some people do church and some people do brunch on Easter Sunday and after that, they try to escape the family clenches and run their errands before the start of the week, only to be shot down by a locked door. Sigh. This may offend, and I do not intend for it to offend any of my faith-based readers, however, IF someone is dead and raises from the dead… isn’t that stuff out of George Romero films? Isn’t that Shaun of the Dead action there? Wouldn’t that have made Jesus a zombie? Zombies are cool, but hey, a consumerist holiday surrounding the consumption of large amounts of genetically modified high fructose corn syrup and artificial dye filled snacks, all hiding under the guise of a zombie? I’m not buying it. (For full disclosure, I believe Jesus was a prophet, as were so many others. Do I believe that the spiritual world begins and ends with him, no, I most certainly do not. I do respect those who put their faith there however. Find your happiness and your spiritual contentment wherever you may, as long as it provides peace, acceptance, understanding and love to ALL)

Now,  because of all of this chaos with getting ready for my event, I just haven’t had time to go out on any dates. I had two gentlemen on the back-burner for the weekend, IF I had time, but I just didn’t. I have a home waxing kit for the legs, just no time. I haven’t had time to tweeze my eyebrows even. I did however give up sugar AND I told french fries that I needed a break in our long-standing relationship. My winter diet subsided on a lot of stress, sugar, french fries and some moderate , and at times, not so moderate, amounts of alcohol. Time for some healthier decision-making on what goes into the body. The reality of any thing tiny and strappy right now, I shudder to think. Shudder to Think is an amazing band by the way. They did the soundtrack for High Art. Quite awesome.

When I am stressed and trying to work through an event or project, I get overwhelmed mentally and tangenty, as can be seen above. Maybe some hotties will come into my booth this weekend. Maybe someone wickedly adorable will flirt me up and ask for my number, how AWFUL would that be? 😉

Tuesday posts are web syndicated by www.thenewgay.net Your source for intelligent queer media.

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I had the birthday that almost wasn’t. The night before I had met up with a friend for Pho, knowing I was sick, he offered to drive up to the curb and pick me up, then drive me the few blocks to my condo.I had all of my belongings in my hand, including my phone and walked 8 feet to his car. I remembered looking at my phone in my hand in the car. I then hug him goodbye and get out of the car and walk the 8 feet to my door, unlock it, place everything on the chair next to the door and walk my dog. When I got back in I went for my phone so that I could call Brooklyn back in order to coordinate our plans for my bday but my phone wasn’t there. Hell, it was in his car. I had a friend online texting the friend whose car it was in, only to have that friend respond repeatedly that it wasn’t in there. I’m not crazy, days later and I still say that eventually it is going to show up in his car. Now, here is where it get’s funny. As I am talking to Brooklyn via internet IM, a storm is coming through and wipes out his power. So, he is available only by phone and I am available only by email. Well, surely his power will be on by the morning, right? No, it wasn’t. He sent a text message to my email letting me know his phone battery was dying and I responded by exclaiming that he needed to get out of his town and find someplace with power to recharge!!!

It’s 4 pm before I get a new phone, which before mail in rebate, kills my budget. As soon as it is charged I send-off a text to Brooklyn hoping that all is going to run smoothly. The little alert button makes its special little noise and success, we are reconnected! The day’s follies are yet to be over though! I rush home, meet my last client and jump in the shower. We plan on his picking me up around 6, but he gets lost. This seems to be something he does quite often. He recently called me from Brooklyn, completely lost and needing my mapquest help. It’s endearing, it doesn’t bother me. As someone who runs always 15 minutes late, it buys me time in getting ready! He calls me at 6:30 and again, I pull out the mapquest and talk him through the route. I hang up when he is 4 minutes from me, a straight line of 8 blocks. 15 minutes later he is still not at my house. Did he evaporate on the bridge? Finally he shows up, turns out he got a work call that required his urgent attention and needed to pull over to write some things down. I finally get into the family van at 7. I don’t care about any plans other than hanging out with him, so the evening is already a success in my mind.

He had said that he wanted to take me out to dinner at least, so I decided I was craving mussels and french fries and we headed to a place that has a non traditional approach, cooking the mussels in a Thai coconut milk and lime broth. Yummers! There was a half hour wait by the time we got there, after getting lost, of course. We walked down to a little bookstore and wandered around for 20 min to pass the time waiting for our table. He looked at a book on Gnomes, a favorite of mine from childhood, while I bought a book about the Bronx Zoo, printed in 1913. The restaurant called us and we headed over. We had plantains to start and then our meals came, Brooklyn had never had french fries dipped in mayo, which is the only way to have them with mussels, and he had never had mussels. Yay, two firsts eliminated with one meal!

What to do next? It was only 10. I had read that there was a midnight viewing of a 1974 sexploitation film at a local theatre that night, so we decided campy and hilarious was the way to go. With two hours to spare we walked to a local cafe and sat and drank tea for an hour, only to be kicked out at 11 when they were closing. PLEASE, closing at 11 pm on a Friday night? I miss NYC. We walked to the car and drove over to the neighborhood where the movie was showing. At that hour, in this town parking was easy and the theatre said we didn’t need to pre purchase tickets because there was no way it would sell out. Okay, 45 minutes to burn until movie time. There was a cute little bar a block down the street and tables available, craziness. Again, with this being a Friday and a ghost town. WTF?! We cozied up at a table and made mention to each other that we are that obnoxious pda couple at bars and restaurants. The sheer amount of times we kissed across the dinner table or I fed him a mussel or french fry by hand. Ha, oh well. We looked at the clock. Shit shit movie starts at 12:30, it’s 12:32.

We walked quickly to the theatre and made it just as they were locking the door, phew! He got the tickets, I bought the peanut m&m’s and we settled into one of the last rows. The theatre staff wasn’t joking. This particular theatre seats 350 people, at least. There were maybe 15 people there, total. The film was hysterical. The acting, the clothes, the soundtrack, all of it was pure 70’s brilliance. I fed Brooklyn m&m’s while we kissed and laughed our asses off. At one point I got up to use the rest room. Upon coming back I straddled him for a minute in his chair for a few minutes of inappropriate public theatre kissing. It was fantastic. Have I mentioned that he is awesome?

By the time the movie was over it was after 2. He needed to get home. I needed to get home. But I also really needed to kiss on him for a bit in a way that was far too intimate to do in public. When we were sitting in the van getting ready to go, I moved all the items from between the seats away so I could kneel there. The seats are so far apart that you can’t sit in your seats and kiss from there. It’s as if he is in Boise and I am in Charlotte. We made out, 98% chastely as we were on a main street, for an hour. He slid my hand down at one point and may I note, knowing what I am missing is not making missing it any easier. Why did we say we are being chaste and waiting? Oh yes, because we are masochists.I am not sure how much longer I can wait without climbing walls. We need to either reduce the amount of times we see each other each week and do so only in public places or we need to, in the great words of Marvin Gaye, get it on.

When he brought me home I was exhausted, yet intensely awake. I straddled him in the car and we kissed for 10 more minutes before we said goodnight. Really, I was a lesbian for 12 years? Who is this boy? He’s killing me slowly but super friggin’ fantastically.

Our Tuesday posts are now being web syndicated by The New Gay. For more intelligent queer coverage of culture, ideas and events, check out www.thenewgay.net

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Not only a catchy song by Queen, but also the theme song of the evening.

It started off with so much possibility, so much potential. We met online and realized within 5 minutes of chatting that we used to live in the same town and know a lot of the same people and volunteer at the same places, yet we had never met. Well, Mr. Personality Plus Former Reporter had me nearly begging the cocktail waitress for a fork with which to stab myself in the eye. Just for some excitement. I tried several topics, I tried asking questions, I didn’t know what else to try. He had two drinks in him and was obviously physically attracted to me, but unable to communicate as a human sitting across from another human. Perhaps this is why he is a FORMER reporter.

We sat first at the bar but  after the first 5 minutes I realized that the speaker was screaming in my ear so I couldn’t hear him speak (not that he actually did much of this). I moved us to the back corner table and hoped that with some more quiet and privacy, perhaps he might loosen up. Or not. I tried people watching, as a spectator sport and including him on it… nada. I would get a couple of sentences from him and then he would clam up. At one point the silence was so awkward that I was thinking I should just call it, time of death, 7:30. BUT, then he spoke…two sentences. He complained about my choice of bars, meanwhile I considered that, he could have suggested some other place. He complained of the charge for extra sauce and finally there was the most irritatingly awkward moment. When it came time to pay the tab. Now, I believe in gender neutrality when dating. If I ask you out, I will pay or at least try to. If you ask me out, and I am a CHEAP date (2 hard ciders and some french fries folks!), then c’mon and pay for me. He said that he had frequented this particular bar. Everyone knows that this bar takes cash only. Everyone also knows, to always go to an atm before meeting up with your date, the one YOU asked out. So, I paid $25 of the $35 tab.

So, it doesn’t matter if you have an inch thick book of potential topics or new ones to explore, some people just aren’t capable of understanding what makes a good date. Even if the romance aspect is doomed, at least try to enjoy yourself and consider it a good opportunity to learn about a new person. Have fun, you and your date deserve it.

So, another one down and a near record in shortest length of a cocktail date, 6:20 to 7:55. I was even able to get some shopping done after and bought some new socks. Note to self:  If asked out again by this man, feign disappointment and then explain that you are watching a riveting stop motion documentary in Dutch about how dirt is made.

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