Disturbingly crazy
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Today was my second day off work. My throat is killing me and I was feeling like shit yesterday. It's still killing me now but I can't stay home another day, I have a document with a tight deadline and will have to work through the weekend. So instead of doing anything vaguely productive yesterday and today, I surfed the web. That's it. That's all I did. That and chat/talk with friends. The good thing about not being at the office during the day is that I can call friends in Europe at decent hours. So I chatted/talked to Gabriela, M.A., his mother (it was her birthday yesterday) and Quique. I also played a bit with SecondLife and somehow landed on this gem of a blog. I am still unsure whether the woman is completely bonkers or I should alert Amnesty International! If you google the name of the doctor on youtube, you will get to watch a video version of the blog.
Cougar on the prowl
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Friday I had dinner with Pam, Dawn and a friend of hers from Pennsilvanya at Dos Caminos. Then we joined a group of Egyptian guys friends of Hany at the Bull and Bear Bar. One of them, probably in his thirties, was kind of interesting. On the cute side, spoke several languages, cocky with a good sense of humor. Too bad he had an MBA. And too bad whatever bad intentions I had got derailed a little later on. From the bar we all came home for a brief stop so I could take a shower and change and they could check my roofdeck and then we went over to the Opal. It had been years since I was last there. I used to go with M.A. all the time, and it's one of the places (actually there only a couple of them) from which I stay away to avoid missing him like crazy. Still, it paid to overcome my heartbreak :)
I walked in, tried to walk across the dance floor to get to the corner of the bar. Never made it. Very nice looking black boy in his twenties lassoed me and never let me go. By the time the rest of my group had made its way to the bar I was already grinding to the music (a tamer version than this girl, obviously). The guy was very cute and very driven, as men tend to be at that age. He also had gorgeous friends he did not mind sharing. So I danced, and I danced and I danced some more. Then I realized it was time to either put out or stop dancing with him. That's what I tried to do, given that I am not really interested in random sex with strangers. It was not an easy task though, I had to use every trick in the book, the fake phone call, the text messages, the dancing with the guys in my party, the fascinating conversation with a girl friend. He kept coming for more. Finally I decided to leave. I walked across the dance floor again, towards the exit, and was grabbed by another twenty something. Too bad I was working on Saturday. No way I could stay.
I was surprised when thing like this happened to me when I was myself in my 20s but I am frankly thrilled at how they happen way more consistently now that I am hitting 50. I was by far the oldest broad in the club, the most covered up too. And I certainly was not dipping to the floor (can't do that even if I tried - too many years of high impact aerobics and dance). I am aware it would be totally pathetic if I was to define my own worth by how many hard ons I am able to produce, but it would also be a flat out lie if I said I don't care. I do. I love it.
Saturday the friends of friends and I saw Fuerza Bruta (LOVED IT!) and then met Juan and Leandro at The Ritz. The place was so packed it was impossible to breathe, let alone dance, so I just tried for a while and then gave up.
Memory jolt
Friday, August 22, 2008
Reading from New York On Tap:
A succession of straight bars (Ice Bar, Patio) have tried and failed to make a home here. Now it's finally gay as the day with the aim of providing an upscale alternative to its next door neighbors The Urge and The Cock.That's it! That's the name of the club from last week! The Urge! Yup, a very classy establishment indeed ...
I agree
maybe not a 100%, actually, certainly not a 100% (I always cringe at patronizing undertones), but it is still a good read:
Confused
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Saturday night, after the pre-show ceviche and mojito snack at Mercadito, after the show, after the bar with the long funny name I can't remember, and after the gay place with the half naked dancers on the bar (where I saw a guy who is a host/judge on some reality show I don't watch so I can't remember his name and it's driving me up the wall), we went to Star Lounge, or at least that's where I think we were, although it's very difficult to tell from the web reviews. It sure was in the basement of the Chelsea Hotel. Tough door policy? Celebrities? Where???? We walked in, no problemo, no line, no nothing. Inside, tons of B&T people, 99,9% gay. I don't know about prices because I only had water, but it did not seem such a big deal of a place at all.
Yesterday the friends of friends and I did the Brooklyn Bridge, tried to get to Grimaldi's but it was too late and they were only doing take out, and ended up at Toro. Nothing panasian when we got there. The kitchen was closed so we had very ordinary bison hamburgers before venturing to the top floor and its all black crowd. And I mean ALL black. I was the only blonde in there. Lots of brothers, some latinos. The friends of friends found it very interesting.
Senior workout
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Conductorcise!!! Yup, that's what we did this morning on Park Ave., in broad daylight, perfectly sober. Yup, no shame here.
To dos ...
Friday, August 15, 2008
I tried making these paper flowers yesterday (in the middle of the night) and now I want to make them as a present for the hostess on Sunday. I also like these, and these, and these.
I also want to try and make some felt so I can copy these hats.
I have to buy a frame and decorate it to match my little painting for Ana.
And I'd like to get to Girls Girls Girls one more time on Sunday, after dinner.
There ... and I still haven't sent Gabriela the letters she needed translated ...
I am a little behind, I know
Sunday, my NJ experience ...
Monday, dinner with friends of friends ...
Tuesday, I don't remember ...
Wednesday, drinks and dinner with the Arab crowd ...
Thursday, stayed home ...
Friday, I am meeting Rommy at Mercadito after work, then going to see COBU, then meeting the friends of friends
Tomorrow it's Summer Streets in the morning with Meriem, then I will be working from home, both on the mini-video and a text (passing on rehearsals tomorrow). I've been invited to a party in the evening, but I might go to the movies.
Then it gets complicated: Sunday I have a brunch in D.C. and a dinner in NY. And I had promised Daniel I would visit him in Connecticut. And Pam is coming to NY in the evening. I will probably just stay home and work a bit, go to the gym, go out for brunch in NY and then go to my dinner party.
I still have to post about the NJ experience ...
Pathetic
Saturday, August 9, 2008
I was all worked up about going out dancing yesterday. But then on my way home I stopped at the Plaza, our little outdoor cafe/bar and this guy at our table bought a second bottle of wine, so I had a second glass of wine (between the protesters screaming at the top of their lungs and the band playing loudly, you couldn't really talk much) and then I got home, started reading up on the club we were going, eat something and promptly fell asleep. Ugh!
They give me the creeps
Monday, August 4, 2008
Yesterday I had dinner at the Water Club with Dawn.
Nearby, a big "happy family" was celebrating a grandfather's birthday. To me, of course, they all looked like deviants. I don't know what is it about "proper" families that make me immediately think of awful secrets and pent-up hate. No wonder I was never into having one of my own. For some reason I don't have the same reaction to lower class families, but as soon as I see "fine people", "people like us", men in beige slacks or, even worse, blue jackets, women with foulards and little girls in dresses, I get immediately suspicious. I wonder what's behind that painstakingly built facade. I get the same feeling in white picket fence suburbia, the breeding ground of serial killers. I don't buy into the charade. For similar reasons I also intensely distrust people who don't drink. I don't have a problem with alcoholics who stay dry, obviously, but I don't trust teetotalers. I wonder what they are hiding that they cannot let go. Recently priests and nuns creep me out too. Just watch "Deliver us from evil" and feel the revulsion factor grow. My lack of respect for men of the cloth has gradually transformed into absolute despise.
Last time I was in Rome, a couple of years ago, a priest visited the house of the friends with whom we were staying. I tried to ignore the calls from the kids, beckoning me to come say hi to the guy. I stayed put in my room, hoping they would tire. They did not. These kids are being raised Catholics and I was a guest of their parents, so I actually had to get out of the room, go meet the guy, shake his hands and maintain some kind of pointless chitchat, all the while thinking I was associating with scum.
And speaking of authority figures, I don't get people who look back at childhood as a happy time in their life. I hated every minute of it. I hated being a teenager too, although I did have lots of fun behind the back of the authority figures in my life. As a child and as a teen I felt controlled by adults, adults I did not particularly like nor admired, in a state of complete dependency. Life, in my book, starts when you get rid of those petty tyrants, the day when it's not their house, their rules any more, but your house, your rules. Your life, finally! And boy, so far it just rocks.
Roller Rink
Marc, Pedro and I had a grand time at Dreamland yesterday!
Marc on his first try on roller skates.
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