Cheers

New York City is full of unique and strange characters. It's one of my favorite things about the city, and it's difficult to explain to people who haven't spent a lot of time amongst the weird masses.

When my man comes to town, we've developed a sweet habit of going to one really good restaurant. A complete splurge on good wine, serious food, and all around goodness is to be had. Part of the reason I enjoy this so much is that I get to witness someone who is infamous for his lack of culinary experimentation, actually eat some weird stuff. A couple of glasses of wine, and really, that stubborn steak-and-green bean-eater can be persuaded into eating all kinds of food. I don't think there's a whole lot about this area that he thinks is worth residing in all the time (except ME), but the food...it helps to make a case for how good it is around here.

This past visit, we went to Centro Vinoteca, the yummy restaurant of Mario Batali's long time protégé, Anne Burrell. The food was delicious, the wine was great, but both were overshadowed, just slightly, by one man.

As we walked into the space, we passed the spiky-haired Burrell, peering out from the open kitchen, and made our way through the crowd. As we approached, we found a spot at the semi-circular bar. Sitting smack dab in the middle was a guy in his 50's, swaying slightly in his chair, as he commanded the attention of the bartender. When she glanced our way to see what we wanted, he swiveled around, and thus, the interview began.

"Well, hello. Aren't you faaaabulous! Is this your boyfriend?"

"Yes it is"

"You lucky man! When are you going to marry this beautiful girl? You remind me of someone...Audrey Hepburn! I must buy you a drink."

It should be noted that all flamboyantly gay men, especially above the age of 40, love to compare all petite brunette women to Audrey Hepburn. So while the comparison is flattering, it's also a little bit generic in this situation. Still, he certainly had our attention, because we couldn't have avoided it if we tried. He was also extremely entertaining, so we stood, drank some wine, and listened as he told us about...pretty much everything.

Our new friend was either highly delusional or extremely wealthy and well-connected. Names were dropped, stories of rowdy celebrity parties ending in head trauma, his current HIV status (positive, if you must know)...no information was too much information. He was the world champion of sharing. He also took the time to give relationship advice, mostly to the boyfriend, who was nodding along and being forced, oh-so-gently, to agree on every point.

Even after the hostess told us our table was ready, we were finding it difficult to find enough space in the conversation to politely excuse ourselves. One story just flowed into the next, and from the looks of both the bartender and the woman trying to lead us up the stairs to our awaiting table, this was not an uncommon occurrence. He was definitely a regular.

My man is not exactly a wall flower. He has plenty to say, all of the time, and this was the only time I've seen him completely out-talked. He's also Midwestern, and therefore, insanely polite. It's one of his more charming qualities, because despite his penchant for offensive jokes and emphatic hatred of douchebaggery, when he's in a social situation, he is extremely gracious. I had to finally drag him away, thanking our eccentric bar buddy for the drink, but explaining that I was just starving. During our conversation, a cute young girl who had obviously just come from her dinner came over and said goodbye to him. We were clearly not the first friends he embraced that night.

He is a prime example of the best of New York. He was sweet and hilarious, and one of those people I can't imagine meeting anywhere else. The restaurant is a good one, and if you go there, you will almost definitely find him as a fixture at the bar. I highly recommend stopping by and having a glass of wine with him.

fabulous weekend

I went away for a nice, relaxing weekend in New Hope, PA over the weekend. For those of you unaware, New Hope is the mecca for 2 groups of people. Gay boys and bikers. Guess which group I was hanging out with.

Fabulous Gay John and I packed up our dogs and our swimsuits and headed to the quaint country town. We stayed stumbling distance away from what is essentially the only gay bar there. Meet the weekend's mascot:



I know you might say "but a drink cannot be a mascot. Mascots are furry-suited people who dance around and act foolish at sporting events." Just trust me on this one. If you have more than 2 of these, you will gladly dress up in any furry costume available and act foolish. You will also actively be removing the filter between your brain and mouth, and if you don't have much of one to begin with, it might only take 1 1/2 of these to dissolve it.

So, my mascot and I hung out and made some friends, approached unassuming handsome men and all but pimped-out fabulous gay John. p.i.n.k. honesty is the best wingman around. It will still laugh at you when you fall flat on your face while somehow managing to hold onto your half full champagne bottle, without spilling a drop. This is why we got along so well.

bi-confused

You'd think that with the past weekend's gay pride, and my love for the fabulous gay boys, I'd have super fun stories to tell. Sadly, I missed a pride party on Saturday night, because of actual responsible nonsense. I rebelled against this shortly after by drinking so much, that when I woke up on Sunday for yoga, I was still drunk. Yup, still went to yoga. Drunk. Probably more fun to watch than it was to experience.

So Sunday, instead of attending the parade, I went home and went back to bed. I did, however, have dinner with my favorite FGB, who frankly, should have his gay card revoked because I had to tell him which weekend pride actually was. Funny thing happened while at dinner.

We were sitting outside...me, FGB John and a couple who live in the neighborhood. Last year, I had gone out with a guy a couple of times, but the chemistry wasn't there for various reasons. When I first met him, I was convinced he was gay. Some of you may remember him as CNG (cute not gay). Well, the man formerly known as CNG came strolling by, and waved. I waved him over to come say hi, and I now realize, in hindsight, that he seemed a bit uncomfortable. We've remained completely friendly, so that's kind of strange, right? I introduced him around the table, and we talked for a couple of minutes. As soon as he walked away, I got the lowdown. CNG is indeed, at the very least, CDB...cute definitely bisexual, if not just completely closeted. AHA! Of course he is. I have acute gaydar. Why I ever doubted myself is a mystery.

Here's the question. I'm not sure if I'm flattered that a gay guy was interested in me or if I'm insulted. On the one hand, there's the theory that I'm so irresistible that even a gay guy can want me (this is the theory I'd like to believe). On the other, maybe I just seem like a woman who'd be:

a. just fine with my man having casual sex with other guys on the side OR
b. too oblivious to realize it?

Conundrum.

Things to like...and not

The past week has been filled with the goodness, and sprinkled with some crap. A pretty good ratio, so I'm not bitching too much, but...

I like:
kissing cute boys who make me laugh. Big surprise there, huh?
lazy couch-bound days watching bad tv
fabulous gay boys who party like rock stars
celebrating my birthday (again) a month late, because I can
being carded...for anything
perfection
drinking (heavily) with no hangover punishment
when the muse is cooperating, and the work flows effortlessly

I really definitely don't like:
flighty moments that result in leaving things behind...
...and losing my cell phone (again)
things that get broken
when the muse is stubborn, and the work feels like work.

Man Notes™ VI- the fabulous edition

Due to the disturbing nature of the things I witnessed last night, I realized that the Man Notes need to be expanded to the fabulous gay boys. That's not to say that some of these helpful hints can't be used by you woman-chasers, as well, but it's about time they got some advice just for them.

Pssst...hey, average looking guy who somehow got very cute guy to pay attention to you. STOP going on and on about the guy you've been having a thing with for the past five years. The fact that your birthdays are two days apart and you always thought he could be "the one" is not something that hot guy needs to hear about...ad nauseum. I was just standing near this conversation and it was very awkward. You're so not getting laid.

Whether you like it or not, there is a certain stereotype you boys need to deal with. You are expected to be at least moderately fashionable. So to the guy in the light-washed, tapered-at-the-ankle jeans (and white sneakers)...for the love of god, man. Get a friend who has left his house in the past 20 years to help dress you.

If you are going out to the bars, boys, please have some mercy on the olfactory senses of the rest of us and go easy with that cologne. Walking up to the bar last night was like getting slapped in the face with man cologne stew.

If you are trying desperately to get the attention of a guy, and he continually ignores you...turns his back to you, refuses to make eye contact, moves to the other side of the room...do NOT attempt to talk to the cute girl with him, and tell her how fabulous she is in hopes that she'll help you out. We are there to help buffer them from guys like you, not to give you an "in".

And finally, about those bartenders. Yes, lots of them (even the really pretty ones with the perfect abs that you've been staring at for hours) are straight. I know you've been tipping him really well all night, trying to get him to do lots of shots with you in hopes that he might be up for a little experimentation. Maybe he will, even. However, when he ignores you for 3 seconds to get me a drink, understand that it's not because he's an asshole. It's because he hasn't actually seen boobs all night, and he likes them...as more than a fashion accessory. Trying to ban women from the bar because you had to wait an extra blink of an eye to get your beer doesn't make you a gay activist. It makes you a dickhead.

A porcupine in a tanning booth

That is hilarious to me. You can read the unremarkable review-type thingy here:




So, based on that (because I do occasionally actually pay attention to criticism...you know, when I feel like it), I reduced the ad space a bit and put more posts on the first page. The rest of it, I like. Messy is OK, it's much like the insides of my head. Besides, it will all change again in a couple of days. As for the IE discrepancies? Well, IE sucks. Sorry to those of you who continue to use it, as it will never look quite right. Though I do try...really.

Moving on...

Obviously, I'm back from the family trip. It was fun, loved seeing everyone, and was overall, a great Christmas and birthday. Everyone kept saying that Lillian wouldn't really get what was going on, being only 11 1/2 months old, and while she didn't know what the deal was with Christmas, let me assure you of this. She totally got the present thing. She indeed realized she got lots of loot, and she loved every bit of it. There was no playing with the boxes, being content with ribbon, or ignoring the real stuff. She set to work on playing with each and every thing under that tree immediately. It was a musical baby Christmas. She got a piano, a xylophone (whose mallet she wielded for the entire week as if it was a magic wand containing the power of the very universe), and a drum. She was rockin it hard.

The rest of us gave and received things that were especially needed and/or meaningful, as we pretty much channeled all of our whimsical gifting energy into the kid stuff. Amazingly, my mother, father, and stepmother were all present, and nobody lost any limbs...or cried...or yelled (much, anyway). It was a successful, if a bit weird, dysfunctional family gathering.

To offset the family togetherness, I will be going bar hopping with the fabulous gay boys this evening.

I hope Santa was good to you all. It's nice to be home. Passing out in a drunken stupor in my own bed will be really comforting.

holigay weekend

My hot date this weekend is, once again, FGB (fabulous gay boy, for you slow people). Tomorrow roomie is playing with his super cool band at a local art gallery, but Sunday I'm heading down to the beach to party with my non sexual boyfriend. Because I can't quite explain how good it is to be around a bunch of pretty boys who tell you how great you look, and you know they aren't saying it because they're trying to get into your pants. Maybe to borrow your clothes, but that's much less annoying.

I know I'm sounding bitter about the straight men, it's a phase I go through every now and then. Anyway, I hope all of you have a good, long weekend. Be fun, be safe, have a cocktail in honor of me. In return, I will shove a dollar into a drag queen's stuffed cleavage for ya.

Yeah I know

Posting has been somewhat sporadic, and I have only my current dull existence to blame. I've been working on the website and on a new waterfall design, and on what is supposed to be basically a giant wind sculpture thingy, but none of this is good blogging material because all of these projects are in various states of conception. So here is a simple synopsis of random things I have learned in the last week or so:

• The gay bar scene in NJ is vastly different and frankly sad, in comparison to NYC. When the hottest guy in the place is a drag queen, you have to feel bad for the dating pool.
  
  
• There are a lot of different kinds of ball bearings (and no, that is in no way related to the previous fact)
  
  
• There is a reason people get paid for building websites.
  
  
• When you're on an on-line poker losing streak, stop playing. Not just for a day. Seriously, cut it out.
  
  
• It is possible to procrastinate getting any work done for an entire day by just reading blogs and playing various card games. It will, however make you feel like the most unproductive and lame human being on the planet.
  
  
• You can get very clever people you know to work for free (advertising guys, website designers) but they will not work quickly.
  
  

Oh, and here's my hair solution. I never did find my hair guy. (Joe, I still may take you up on your stalking capabilities..I need your email or something) I decided that since I am going to someone completely new anyway, and I insist on going to only really reputable (and therefore expensive) salons, that I'm going to do a hair "modeling" thing at a very good salon, where master stylists teach their underlings how to do stuff. If I'm going to entrust my head to someone unknown, I may as well not pay $100 for the privilege. The down side is that I have to wait until next month. Oh well. If it's super good or a disaster, you may get before and after pictures.

the best date

Seeing as how the whole dating thing has been somewhat frustrating lately, I am very excited about my date tonight. It's nearby and with the best boy ever..my fabulous dogwalker. And I say fabulous in exactly the way you would about a gay man with exquisite taste, who spoils my puppies on a daily basis. There will be cocktails, there will be laughter, there will be no chance of getting lucky. There will also be no chance of having to listen to some guy's version of who he is that is vastly different from reality. Going to make myself pretty now.