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Posts Tagged ‘musician’

My dance card is interesting these days. I have two great lovers and I’m just kinda doing my thing. I am still chatting up other people and getting to know people online, but as of yet, I haven’t been going on any new dates. It feels a little weird and I am not sure how a third could fit into my pleasant little world. 

I have had a slightly cute, but increasingly less interesting as the days went on, chat going on from one of the online sites, and I have been feeling overwhelmed as I over thought it all. First let me explain about the guy I was chatting with. He has that pseudo intellectual, as in non-skinny jean wearing, hipster musician/designer thing going. He wants to meet me, I have blown him off now twice, the more I thought about whether I could fit him into this mix of two boys, the more I was just feeling frazzled, PLUS, and I know this might seem weird and hypocritical coming from me,but,  he has had extensive experiences with men, and I find it slightly a turn off. He isn’t bisexual, he says. He is straight.  I guess maybe my turn off is a two-fold one. 1) gay male sex has never turned me on. Man on man action, hmm, pass. maybe because it is such an unknown, because I can’t wiggle into that equation. In lesbian sex, I have a place, in straight sex, I have found my place. As a woman though, I have no place in gay male sex. 2) I know he was a bottom and I like my men to top me a bit. Finding out he was bottom killed any mental hard on I was coming up with when I first saw his picture and profile. Sigh.  So, I keep canceling. He is now on vacation, so, if he contacts me when he gets back next week, we shall see how we are feeling.

How awful does this make me that I expect others not to judge my sexual past, but I appear to be judging his? Am I judging the past though? I really think it might be that I am afraid he would be incapable of being the type of dominate/aggressive male lover I like. Feedback people. What do you think?!

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Lobster Risotto
(for 2, with leftover risotto for risotto cakes)

INGREDIENTS:
2 Medium LIVE lobsters
1 pound of littleneck clams
4 cups arborio rice
1/4 cup fresh tarragon on stem, loosely packed.
chicken (3 cups) and lobster (3 cups) stock
1/4 cup marscapone cheese
1/2 cup sliced fresh leeks
1 head garlic
1 slice pancetta 1/4 inch thick
1 fresh lemon for zesting
sea salt (maldon is my favorite)
fresh pepper

1-2 Bottles of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, some for cooking, most for drinking. 🙂

INSTRUCTIONS:
1. Heat oven to 450 F. Slice top off of head of garlic to expose tips of all cloves. Place in center of square of aluminum foil. Drizzle olive oil, lightly salt and pepper. Fold up corners of foil and twist to seal in garlic. Place in lower rack and allow it to hang out there while you do everything else. The longer it roasts, the more caramelized it gets.

2. Place 2 medium-sized LIVE lobsters in large pot of cold water and bring to boil. Cook until shells turn bright red. remove lobsters from water and place in ice bath to stop cooking.

3. After lobsters are cooked, mix 3 cups Chicken broth with 3 cups reserved lobster water and half of the pancetta, chopped in large pieces, in large sauce pan. Bring to medium-low heat on back burner.

4. In a heavy bottom pan add leeks, a tbsp olive oil, a tbsp butter, salt and pepper to taste and allow to soften and lightly brown over medium low heat. Onions should become translucent. 8-10 minutes. Pull leaves off of tarragon, chop finely and put aside. With microplane or fine grater, remove the zest from one washed lemon and set aside.

5.  Add dry arborio rice to pan and stir with wooden spoon to coat with butter, oil and leeks. Cook for 3-5 minutes, stirring constantly and then add 1 cup of wine. Bring heat to medium. Continue to stir and allow for the wine to be absorbed.

6. Add one cup of broth mixture at a time, allow rice to fully absorb liquid each time. Stir frequently with wooden spoon. Salt and pepper as you go. Taste occasionally. The rice should be al dente… or firm when bitten into, not crunchy… but NOT mushy! (10-15 minutes, give or take) When it seems close to being done, stir in tarragon. (Fresh herbs should always be added towards the end. Dried in the beginning. )

7. As Rice is cooking, shell lobster. Remove as much meat as possible. Chop coarsely and set aside.

8. Remove clams from fridge. In separate pan place the clams, a tbsp olive oil, remaining chopped pancetta, couple splashes of wine (this is soooo scientific), salt and pepper, cook over medium heat until the clams open. Keep over low heat to warm.

9. When rice is firm, but cooked, remove from heat and fold in lemon zest, lobster meat, and 1/4 cup marscapone.Voila… Lobster Risotto!!!

10. Plate the risotto in center of plate with clams surrounding. Squeeze lemon over clams and serve.

11. Remove garlic from oven and serve with butter and fresh bread like french or chiabata.

12. NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM

So, there you have it, the promised recipe for Lobster Risotto. I do everything according to my own intuition and taste, so please feel free to play around with the measurements and make this recipe your own.

I had also promised an update on the men who are interested in me and what has been going on besides Brooklyn. Well, I told the Doppelganger that I am seeing someone, which was easier than fessing up about how I made out with his brother, the Peruvian, in December. The tittie slapping Turk? I also told him I was seeing someone. Easier than admitting that his make out style leaves a lot to be desired. The 25-year-old? That just fizzled. He’s so sweet and nice and young and I am just NOT there. We are friends and I suspect that we will remain as such. The assoc. prod/writer/musician guy? Well, we have become super buddies and actually talk about our crushes/dates with each other. He likes younger hipster gals and I like guys my own age who are taller than me. Someone who isn’t shorter than me when I wear heels. So, those are the guys who were kinda hanging around for the last couple of months.

New guys who are meandering into the picture: A world traveling, extreme frisbee playing, half asian hipster. A multi-racial vegan chef of sorts. A 34-year-old adrenaline junkie with the career to afford his insane hobbies.

In order of interest is the Frisbee Hipster, the adrenaline Junkie and lastly the Vegan Chef. The Vegan Chef is nice, says sweet things, BUT is not physically my type at all. Should I feel badly about this? Maybe I will go out on a lunch or coffee only date with him.

Yes, I admit that there is a lack of interest in dating anyone other than Brooklyn. I think that this is for many reasons. Firstly, I burnt out on the 4-5 dates a week with different men. The getting stood up, or stuck with the tab. Yes, I often pay for coffee or tea with Brooklyn but that is because I want to and do so without his asking. I know that with his divorce, the kids, moving, etc… that every dollar helps. So, I can pick up a couple drinks or tea now and then or even make him dinner rather than us eating out. What I didn’t like is when I would go out with someone and even after they knew that my business was struggling, they would suggest we have sushi for dinner and somehow I would get stuck with the tab. $100 sushi dinner that I hadn’t budgeted for vs. a $22 cocktail tab that I opted to pay for are huge differences. The Second reason for my general disinterest is the level of comfort I feel when I am with Brooklyn. It’s calm. It doesn’t require work. It feels genuine. Sigh. What to do, what to do. Lastly, the third reason is this email I received tonight from one of the men on a dating site I subscribe to: “My job is to make you HAPPY babe all the time.. cuz If I had the letters “HRT”, I can add “EA” to get a “HEART” or a “U” and get “HURT”. But I’d rather choose “U” and get “HURT” than have a “HEART” without “U”.”

That email is enough of a reason, right? So, this is my update. Enjoy the risotto and stay tuned for tomorrow’s dual posting with our syndicater… TheNewGay.Net

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The weekend was productive. I had a non-romantic study(him)/work(me) “date” with my young Mr. Decade from last week. We met at a local coffee-house and spread out for some serious nose to the grindstone action. We did pretty well even. While I didn’t get all the changes made to my corporate home page, I did get a good start and built up some worthwhile momentum, which carried me through to the majority of the evening, long after I had gone home and would have normally given up to surf the Internet. Mr. Decade was good. Not a date, as I am trying to decide if I should give him a real chance or not. I’m not sure if the 10 years difference is an obstacle I can climb over. He’s sweet though.  He had gone out to a party after we separated Saturday afternoon and late that evening, whilst I was still in html coding hell, he IM’d me.  He tried subtle flirting. I dodged it. He tried not so subtle flirting, I was still able to navigate past that. Then he said, “All I am saying is, if you give me a chance, I just MIGHT curl those toes of yours.”  Umm, JESUS, young man! OY! Nervous laughter on my end as I asked why he is interested in me, 10 years his senior, to which his response was,”You are smart, witty, gorgeous AND sexy. Why wouldn’t I be interested in you?” Pretty good response, I must admit. We said our good-nights and I worked for a few more hours.

The time flew. 11 pm, 12:30, 2, and then 4 am. I had made plans earlier in the week to meet up for Sunday brunch with the Doppelganger, a.k.a. the Peruvian’s bigger brother (eek). I wasn’t feeling it Saturday night though. I really wanted a lazy Sunday with no commitments suddenly. I felt like an asshole but I had to feign illness. I wrote him at 4:15 am and complained of an overwhelming malaise that seemed to be worsening as the hours stretched. I felt it was a kinder excuse than the truth, which was that I wasn’t in the mood suddenly. This would have disappointed him and potentially hurt his feelings, neither of which were my intention or goal. Speaking of intentions, neither of the brothers know about me yet, but I promise, I will tell Doppelganger soon, UNLESS, after the next date, there is total clarity that we have zero chance for anything beyond friendship. I am trying to weigh him separately from his brother, and it is difficult to avoid the comparisons at every turn, but I am trying to do that. So, I sent the email and woke at 11 am to see that he had received and accepted my rain-check with a voice of concern and advice to load up on “c and Theraflu”. I didn’t do either BUT I did load up on coffee at Starbucks.

The dog and I were BORED come 2 pm. We decided a wander around the waterfront area was exactly what we needed. We took to the streets, both properly bundled in our jackets and boarded the train. At the waterfront we roamed around a little bit, ran into our Mr. Decade on the street near the cafe and stopped into his place for a bit to warm up. The pooch proceeded to show off and make out with him and his roommate while rolling on the carpeted floor in absolute glee. She is a funny dog. We stayed about 45 minutes before heading back home, past another Starbucks, on to the train and home for some amazing gourmet nachos made by… me.

I had a few more hours of work to do and I was exhausted. Even with the caffeine I was finding myself nodding off as I finished some work on the home page. I took a break to check my emails and deal with some of them and noticed that PayPal had sent me another note. They are the merchant services provider for my business and we’ve had some issues back and forth lately that we have been working through. These issues have required many updates, changes, blah blah blah. SO, I didn’t think anything of the email telling me that I needed to update my info. Of course I needed to update my account information. I just spoke with PayPal two days prior about that very issue.

I woke up Monday morning, wandered to Starbucks, and was informed that my card was declined. Hmm. Thousands in my account but a $3 espresso drink makes it come to a grinding halt? Just then it all made sense. I called my bank first to verify my theory. Then I called PayPal to let them know to warn their users. 20 minutes later I was in my banker’s office and he was cutting up my card and informing me that after the money is paid out, they will begin an affidavit to the fraud. After that point they launch an investigation and then he told me that it could take up to 60 days to get a full refund. 60 days and a bank account that was wiped clean. This will be an interesting week. I can’t believe that I fell for a phishing scam. I had plans to woo my Musician/Assoc Prod/Writer guy at a concert this week, to pick up some materials at Home Depot for a little cosmetic work I have to do on my condo and to buy dog food. I guess the universe had other plans. I may have to ramp up the dating over the next 60 days just to ensure I have dinner. I am not the type to date because I am poor and need to eat but hmmm, it is awfully tempting.

Our Tuesday post’s 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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I woke up with a score of things on my to-do list but realized that I desperately wanted brunch. I haven’t had brunch in months, perhaps even a year. So, I am trolling around and looking for someone to have brunch with, when he pops up on line. Now, the amusing and uh oh moment comes when I realize  AFTER I asked him if he wants to have brunch with me, that I don’t know which guy this is. I panic. I am looking through all the dating sites I use for an email that correlates to his screen name on googlechat. AACK. I have no idea. He calls me when he is 15 minutes from my door and I am hoping he says his name when I answer the phone. No, he doesn’t. I’m scrolling through our googlechat history for some clue. NOTHING. Panic sets in, what if he is someone who I was just talking to out of boredom? What if he is fat and unattractive? Please, just be nice and not smell bad. “It’s only brunch,” I say to myself.

When he arrives I make several notes, nice dependable car, good height, of average build, handsome in an interestingly average but not kind of way. He has a Heath Ledger facial thing. Not a Heath exact appearance but more of a similarity that could put him in the family tree. Relieved. I still didn’t recognize him from any of the profiles yet and was slightly panicked and embarrassed. What if he mentions something and I can’t place him and end up looking like an asshole?

We made our way into the restaurant and as we were sitting down, he mentioned his 6-year-old son. OF COURSE!!! This is the dad who I yelled at for not putting any really clear photos of his face but he did have an adorable one of his son, which made me think that there was no way he could be that bad, with a son that cute. Phew! With that, it all came back. Umm, except his name!!! Ooops! So, we had great conversation throughout brunch. He exhibits an immediate sense of comfort and familiarity that makes you feel at ease and as if you have known him a very long time. Accident prone as a child, he always landed with his face, and provided me a detailed history of his childhood through the various scars. He felt like an old friend, without feeling too friend-like. At bill time I pulled out my card because this WASN’T a date. It was a total spontaneous googlechat invite so that I would have someone to hang out with as I ate my egg covered poutine. Mmmmm, poutine. Only, he wouldn’t let me pay. At all. Ha. So, he took control of the situation and defined it as a date with his actions. Good job Heath’s Cousin!

After we left we decided to walk around a bit and get some fresh air. We walked a couple miles and stopped in a small Tibetan shop that is going out of business. I bought a woodblock for my wall and an antique necklace that was originally $239 but that the owner gave to me for $30. How amazing is that? We talked with the owner of the shop about The Dalai Lama, whom the shop owner has met several times and of course admires greatly.

We were only a black from my favorite café, so I directed us that way for a decaf hot cup of goodness for me and a chai for him, which I discreetly and quickly picked up the tab for as a thank you for brunch. Coffee I can afford. Sushi, not really. My favorite employees were off today and the kids that were working were a combination of hung over and generally exhausted, yet they still could muster the enthusiasm to chat me up a bit and humor me when I asked them,”What up, yo?”. Coming from a mid thirties uber femme white gal who looks far more conventional than she truly is, perhaps is worth a dog eared head tilt.

Heath’s Cousin and I walked back to the car and continued our great conversation on a range of topics and managed to somehow miss our turn early on, causing us a 20 minute delay in getting me home. Perhaps this was his intention, but honestly, I think he’s just a bit directionally challenged. We finally found our way to my condo and sat outside in the car and talked for about 10 more minutes. As I was getting ready to say goodbye, he told me he had something for me. I reacted with a mild dog eared head tilt myself. Apparently, when in the Tibetan store, he bought me a ring with Tibetan symbols on it. He guessed it would probably be too large but he meant it as a gesture of thanks for such a nice afternoon. Honestly, the sweetest guy I have gone out with yet.

Sexual chemistry? Too early to tell. I also have my little crushes on the blueberry soda loving, wanted to be a fireman when he grew up Musician/Writer/Assoc. Prod guy and the Future Lawyer who I almost got arrested for committing indecent acts with in a closed mall. There are also some other men in the pipeline…. so, who knows. This exploration is a day by day adventure and today it ended on a note of sweetness.

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The weather was so great yesterday, a reprieve from the month of bone chilling temps. I awoke in the morning with multi-layered guilt. It was a guilt trifle, if you will. My pup has had cabin fever from a lack of canine fun and I had stood up the Turk numerous times, so I decided to combine the two and remove the guilt in one train ride. The pup and I met the Turk outside Starbucks and proceeded to walk and talk , get a tea, then walk and talk some more.We ended up back at his house eating some sautéed shrimp, drinking some wine and making out, with my having to lay down the law on 2nd base making out only. He was pouty about this but dealt with it.

He’s nice, young, eager, stable BUT…. there is always a but, isn’t there? I don’t feel it. My toes don’t get all curly when we kiss like they did with the Peruvian. I am also fairly confident in my belief that he is a bit of a player. That, in and of itself, is fine, however, don’t play me. If you want to have sex with me, DON’T feed me a line of bullshit to get me to go to bed with you. I will if I am interested and I won’t if I am not. While I am not easy, per se, I don’t play sexual games of cat and mouse if I want someone. The only time games are introduced is if they are naughty and sexy and mutually agreed upon. So, why do I think he is a player? Aside from the truth of the night we met and that we were both making out with numerous people, his words feel too rehearsed at times and he has condoms everywhere in his house. A ridiculous amount of them stashed everywhere. I lost one of my diamond earrings when we were making out and realized it a couple hours later when we had moved from the living room into the bedroom. He has condoms under his bed pillows, stuffed in the couch cushions and under the couch. At all times. Just in case. In case of WHAT? In case of the need to relocate your building?!  He has enough condoms stashed to be a live action version of the film Up, if he were to inflate them all with helium. At least he is into safe sex, but oy vey!

I guess my general feeling of Meh in regards to the Turk also stems from many superficial things that I can’t seem to get past. He razors his head… like Yul Brynner. He shaves his back, sometimes (what about the rest of the time?) because he admits to being a “really hairy guy”. BUT, he doesn’t wax his one giant eyebrow. Really? Why not? Oh, and there is a weird thing he did when we were making out at his house. Not that WHAT he did was necessarily WEIRD,but that he chose to do it so soon and without testing the waters. He is a tit slapper. What in the fuck is with that?! Yeah, no, I don’t like that. That’s distracting and silly to me. Stop that.

So, I have a general degree of meh-ness when it comes to him. I’m not excited about him, at all and that seems unfair to him, however, I don’t think he necessarily cares HOW excited I am, as long as I am willing to make out with him. I am however finding myself excited when I think about the Musician,Writer,Assoc Prod guy. I need a new name for him, any suggestions? Even though our date had to be delayed on Friday, I find our gmail chats to be refreshing and something I look forward to. He has a sweetness about him that makes me smirk. A smirk is a very good thing.

All in all, a slow week. The foreigner friend of mine and I are headed out for cupcakes to soothe my menstrual craving, nomnomnom, and perhaps a hazelnut mocha as well.

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