Only in my dreams

Over the last couple nights, I have had some VERY vivid sex dreams. While this is not entirely blog-worthy, the people involved really shocked me. Last night, I definitely had a dream about a guy I work with and didn't remember it until I saw him this morning. I started blushing and immediately had to walk out of the kitchen when I saw him. I definitely have a little crush on this dude, but he is straight and he just basically serves as my eye candy during the day. Well, apparently last night I let all those wicked thoughts out in my dreams. Trust me, it was only too appropriate for me to blush when I saw him after what I was dreaming about!

The other one that I remember was a dream where I was back in high school, hanging out with my best friend Josh. Everything seemed normal, the way I remember things from ten years ago (Jesus I'm getting old). Then suddenly we are just ripping each others clothes off. This was definitely not normal. Then suddenly his family is walking into the room and we are trying to cover up. So weird!

Next thing I know, we are on some huge super-swing, the kind you see at an amusement park. This was right on a beach somewhere. While we were on the swing, something flew out of his pocket, so I ran over to get it. Only problem with this was apparently we were now in Gaza or something because there was this huge fence and snipers started firing at me. What the hell??? So weird. Perhaps I should stop smoking crack before bed.

because of you

That was the song I woke up to this morning. Err, uh, this afternoon when I finally got out of bed at 2 in the afternoon. Pathetic. I immediately got in the shower, turned on the shower radio (possibly the best thing I got for Christmas), and was greeted by Kelly. Sweet. Even better yet, was the fact that this was immediately followed by Mary's "Be Without You". It was as if they were reading my mind in what songs I wanted to hear. It was the perfect way to finally ease me out of my hang-over.

I really needed a night, or day, of 10 hours of sleep. Over this past week I think I averaged between four and five hours of sleep a night. I definitely woke up at 8:30 this morning though, and was pretty sure that I was dying. My mouth was completely dry, there was a small elf drilling and jack-hammering right behind my eyes, and my entire body ached. God, there is nothing like that feeling after a full night of drinking.

Last night was to be our "low-key" night out. Ha. As if any of us can do anything low-key. We started the night at JR's. Some how I was the first one there. I can't think of the last time I was on time to meet the girls. I had two drinks in me before Christian even showed up. Then the rest of the crew slowly trickled in. Finally, we were about to leave to head across town to Remington's, when the DJ threw a wrench in the plan and played the Tony Moran mix of Mariah's "Don't Forget About Us". Of course, Poo-Dell, DYD and I had to stick around long enough to belt out the song for the rest of the bar. That remix is so fucking hot. I can't wait to use it to work out to this week.

We jumped in a cab and were off to SE. We figured Remington's was a good choice for our low-key night. None of us know the bartenders and the crowd doesn't give off that same, hey let's get shit-faced vibe that the bars of 17th St do. Hehe. Or so we thought. It is never a wise move for me to go out on an empty stomach. I know this only leads me to trouble and a state of drunkenness that is obscene. Oh well. These things do 'appen.

I remember having a lot of fun at Remington's but I can't really remember many specifics of the night. I do remember some girl asking me when I was going to get up and sing Independent Woman. I turned to her and said, "two questions. One, do you want to me to sing Independent Woman Pt. 1 or Pt. 2 and second, who is going to be my Kelly and Michelle. My name is Bernie and they don't call me Bernonce for nothing." See people, this is why it is important for me to have a meal before drinking. Otherwise, I start to think that I am Beyonce and it doesn't take much to have me doing signature model walk across the bar.

My other main memory of the night is DYD acting like teenagers in asking the bartender if he was indeed Mr. Bartender. I can only imagine what an ass I might have made of myself in doing this. Hehe. Gosh, sometimes I am so fucking classy I even amaze myself.

My last memory of the night is of being in the cab with Roomie and his BF, on the phone ordering from Manny & Olga's. I imagine that this conversation sounded like some sort of perverted UN conversation, what with my extreme slurring and the foreign accent of the person taking my order. Thank God I channeled my inner-Martha and had them repeat our order back to me. Twice. But, there was no mayo on my sandwich, so crisis adverted.

Whose bed have your boots been under? Mine apparently

After reading this blog entry, I got to thinking about am I or aren't I a southerner??? I'll address many of the same points as Dale did in his entry.

1. I was born in DC, also technically south of the Mason-Dixon.

2. Country music? Check. My iPod has its share of Shania, Faith, Dixie Chicks, Dolly, Garth and Tim. Although I can't say that I listen to much country any more. I barely listen to the radio at all.

3. I definitely use many of those wonderful terms like y'all and hun. It also took me YEARS to remove that glaring R in the middle of words like waRsh and waRshington. I also totally sound Balmer when I pronounce ambulance. It takes serious mental concentration to not put a big ole accent somewhere in the middle of the word.

4. When it comes to friend food, here is where I differ. We didn't fry that much food in my family.

5. I will agree with the flirting thing. I think it is just a combination of manners and breeding.

Now, I have to add my own points about why I think I am a southerner. Or at least a redneck at heart. I grew up on a 22 acre working farm. We had ponies when I was younger. My sister and I raised AND showed market lambs for 4-H. Pictures of my days in 4-H are forth-coming.

Until I was 20, the biggest city I had ever visited was DC. I never left the county I was raised in, until I studied abroad.

My dad owns the ugliest truck you have ever seen. It is a 70's Chevy pick-up in pumpkin orange with brown spots, to paint over the rust. Tell me that is not a little bit 'neck.

I learned to drive a tractor LONG before the state would permit me to drive a car. Oh, and I drove said tractor on the road all the time, doing errands for the neighbors. You never know when you might need a big-ass hole drilled in your yard or your three acres of brush mowed with a Bush-Hog.

However, I never did, nor do I now, have cowboy boots or a cowboy hat. I do have a "Rednecks do it better" t-shirt though.

I also don't have a name with a fancy -Bob or -Jo tacked onto it. But, don't we all agree that Bernard Aloysious Schwartz, III is cruel enough???

mother

Last weekend, I got the text I was dreading. Quinn wrote to let me know that Jeff's mom passed away in her sleep on Friday night, the 13th. Quick background. My junior year of college I became best friends with Jeff, my little brother in the fraternity. He was dating this girl Quinn since high school and I eventually got to be really close to her as well. Jeff and I lived together for a year and were brothers in every sense of the word. His family was mine and vice versa. That was even true of Quinn's family.

I'll never forget, over Christmas break in late 99, Jeff came into my room after a serious bender and told me that his mom, Ellen, had been diagnosed with breast cancer. I suspected that something had been bothering him for a couple days, but waited for him to come to me. I was a little hurt that he didn't come to me sooner. I mean, who can better understand this than your best friend who has already beaten testicular cancer himself??? I understood that he needed time to digest it all though.

Over the years, his mom's health would yo-yo. I never pressed Jeff on the issue, and would only ask the innocent, how is your family, how is your mom, type of questions. Then I would get the full story from Quinn. I knew that she was under-going a lot of treatments because the cancer was spreading.

On New Years Day this year, I called Jeff to catch up after the holidays. During our chat, I asked the obligatory question about how his mom was. This is where Jeff departed from our well-worn script and let me know that his mom was not doing well at all. He told me how he accompanied his parents to her doctor and found out that she only had a few weeks to live. Jeff pretty much dropped everything at this point and stayed in Jersey with his family.

A few days later I talked to Quinn's best friend Melissa. She let me know that Ellen's condition had improved and they thought that the drim prognosis may have been caused by her being on improper meds. I then didn't think much about this, until the morning of the 14th when I woke up to Quinn's text telling me that Ellen passed in her sleep. I had to read the words three times just to final comprehend what I was reading.

I have experienced death more times than I would care to, but never a parent before. It has always been a grandparent who was sick, or great-uncle or aunt or something. I knew that Jeff's world was probably reeling, but in typical Jeff fashion, I also knew that he was keeping it all together to carry his brothers, his father and even his grandparents (who have now outlived both of their children). Talking to Melissa, she confirmed all of this.

I found out from her that the viewing would be held on Tuesday evening and Wednesday morning, with the funeral Wednesday afternoon. The family wanted to wait that long because Wednesday would have been Ellen's 54th birthday. Ugh, can it get any sadder? I came into work on Tuesday and informed my boss that I would be leaving that afternoon and not coming back until Thursday morning. My boss tried to give me some bullshit about how I couldn't take time off during quarterly statement period. Oh, the joys of working in the financial industry. I just went above his head to the director and got the time approved.

I jumped on MARC and met Melissa at Penn Station in Baltimore. We drove up to Jersey and went straight to Quinn's parent's house. This is where Jeff and Quinn were staying, in addition to the two of us. First, it was so good to see Jeff, Quinn, their adorable little girl Isabel, and Quinn's family. I really hate that the first time seeing any of them in months is because of the passing of Ellen.

The entire experience was difficult, moreso than I expected it to be. First, it was hard to see Jeff and his brothers in so much pain. Second, it really made me realize that this could be me one day soon. Both of my parents are in their 60's, nearly ten years older than Ellen was. Granted, she had a terminal illness, but you never know what tomorrow holds.

During the funeral, I started thinking about what I would do if I lost my mother. I decided that I would be an absolute wreck. I am very close to my mother, as I imagine many gay men are. I am close to my whole immediate family though. Death sucks and I will be wreck if any of them pass.

I also realized that of all my friends, seven of them have buried at least one of their parents. Five of them have buried their fathers. Roomie and I even had a little conversation about how I am one of the few people he knows whose parents are still alive and together. I am very lucky in that regard and I don't acknowledge that often enough.

I know there is more that I want to say about this, but I just can't make the words form into coherent thoughts.

leather

look i'm standing naked before you
don't you want more than my sex
i can scream as loud as your last one
but i can't claim innocence

oh god could it be the weather
oh god why am i here
if love isn't forever
and its not the weather
hand me my leather

I don't think that any song could more perfectly capture the spirit of MAL weekend for me. Bonus points to anyone that names the album this is from. Come on people, this is an easy one.

So, I just spent the last hour writing this really awesome, funny post going into all the details of my MAL weekend. Apparently, Blogger thought I was taking entirely too long and logged me out before I had the time to publish it. Sorry folks, but I don't have the energy to do it again.

I will tell you this much, Sunday night was out of control. Dave was definitely serving us glasses of straight vodka at JR's. He must have been, because I don't think JR's has a license to sell gasoline.

Oh, one other quick thing that I need to point out. In the forever lost blog entry, I nicknamed two BF's of Mean Girls. DYD is currently seeing a fellow we shall henceforth call Sweetie and Poo-Dell is now seeing Blondie, who you may recall Poo-Dell met this night.

The most important thing to know about my MAL weekend is that I decided that I LOATHE cigar smoke and that leather is definitely not my scene.

don't forget about us

I am LONG overdue for a blog posting and for that I apologize. Shit has been kind of crazy in the last week though. Between MAL weekend and Jeff's mom passing away, I haven't had a moment to even catch my breath. With that said, there are two blogs coming, one about MAL weekend and one about the funeral and my impromptu trip to Jersey this week. I needed to get this shit out of my head right away though.

Tonight I got home from NJ and FINALLY had a chance to sit down and chat with roomie. This is the first time we've seen each other since Thursday night last week. I know, this shouldn't be a big deal, but we are sisters and I miss the bitch when she is gone gallivanting to NYC. So, back to the point. Roomie and I were sitting around talking about everything that has happened in the last week and the subject of relationships came up. Apparently, I am the last single Mean Girl standing.

Here's the thing about that. I don't care. I am not, nor have I ever been, the kind of person that needs to be in a relationship. Yes, there are definitely moments when I wish that I had a special someone in my life. I'd be lying if I didn't say that. Yet, I am in NO HURRY to find some man to settle down with and call my boyfriend. I figure, when it happens, it will happen. There is no use in me rushing things, or searching endlessly for some person that may not even be in this country for all I know!!!

Part of me REALLY hates it when friends are ever so kind as to point out that I am the only single one standing. Thanks bitch. I appreciate you pointing out the fact that is so blatantly obviously by the odd number of people standing in this circle!!! Or by the fact that I am the ONLY PERSON not slobbering on some boy's neck in the middle of a bar. I know they mean well, but uh, it kind of makes me want to smack you across the face. You don't point out to a cripple that he is in a wheelchair do you??? I love you girls, but the next time one of you says that I am the only one who is single, you will be slapped. Consider this your one and only warning.

Yes, I do eventually want a man, a family, a home, the "American Dream". This is what I am working towards. But, right now I feel that there is so much else in my life to focus on, that I don't need to be staying up at night worrying about why I am single. Right now, I would so rather focus on sticking to a diet and work-out plan. I would rather focus my time and energy on getting myself into a grad program and starting off down the path to professional happiness.

I guess I have been single for so long that I have just grown accustomed to it, and don't look at it as some sort of fatal flaw or something that needs correcting. I can't emphasize enough, for me, IT WILL HAPPEN WHEN IT HAPPENS. There are a lot of things that will change when I meet someone worthy of my time and attention, but until then I am going to continue living my life for me.

Now to the title of this blog. In addition to simply loving this song, let's not forget girls (you three know who you are), that before we were 7, we were 4. The four of us. Don't forget that each of us had lives together as friends before any of us had a boyfriend. I am so happy for each of you, but just try to make a little time for a night of just the four of us. You know, a night to satisfy your tragically flawed single sister. ;)

hurts so good

Last night, the four of us got together at JR's. Drunkenness ensued. We started the night at JR's for happy hour. This is always bad news. Thankfully, Dave wasn't there last night so there were no glasses of straight vodka. Because of this, nothing crazy happened at JR's. Well, I may have bought roomie two Jack and Cokes. That was just to make sure that she was well lubricated (only socially though, she comes pre-lubed these days) for the rest of the night.

We left JR's and walked over to the Lantern for some shirtless free drinking. On the way, Roomie and Poo-Dell were sweet enough to serenade us with all the songs from Little Shop. The residents of Mass Ave may not have paid for it, but they got a show last night!

Eventually DYD's bf and I ran ahead of the group because I was seriously about to piss my pants. Once we were in the GL, I didn't hesitate for one moment to whip my shirt off. I mean, I took it off the last time and didn't get the benefit of the free drinks. I wasn't fucking around this time!

This is where things get hazy. No, no black-outs last night or anything, but I just don't remember exactly the sequence of things from the rest of the time at GL. I know that Roomie and I ran into Shawn-tel and the Island Black Girl, whom we haven't seen in weeks. I also know that we ran into Bethany (boy Bethany) and chatted with her. I know that at the end of the night, I ran into a leather-master from work. Oh, and that one of his friends/slave/subject shoved his hand down my pants, grabbed my package and then smelled it. Thanks? How exactly does one respond to that?

So, this co-worker, Slavery as we refer to him around the office, is quite the interesting character. Apparently he is very good at training slaves and such. Even will teach you the proper use of a CB2000. If you don't know what one is, Google it. I did and boy was I surprised. What a fun joke that would be to play on a passed out friend (Poo-Dell, I'm looking at you). Anyway, Slavery and I had a very long conversation about leather, his hot slave in Boston, and closeted co-workers. Good times.

In between all of these run-ins, I was going up to the DJ requesting all my favorite bitches. I was very disappointed that they didn't have the remix to Mary's "Be Without You". I know I heard it there on New Year's, but it must have been a different DJ that night. Highlight of the night, without a doubt, was the Tony Moran mix of "House is not a Home" by Deborah. I have been dying to hear that song out, and I requested it when they didn't have Mary. Of course by this point, we have all split up. I sent Roomie and Poo-Dell a text to let them know it was coming on. Then I had my own private dance party. I tore that song up. Little did I know that Roomie was doing the same downstairs. Don't get in the way of a bitch and her Deborah remix!

I finally found Roomie again, but no one else was to be found. Including DYD and her BF with the coat-check ticket. Cute. Thank God I am too drunk to notice that I am wearing only a t-shirt as I walk out of the GL.

For whatever reason, definitely the Jack, Roomie had a hankering to head to the Dirty Bird to see a little preview of what MAL will offer. I protested, but in the end, her will was too strong for me. We walked over there, Roomie bitching the whole way in her fuck-me pumps (don't wear your FMP's on a night out next time!). We got there, took a lap or two around the bar and then headed out. We were both drunk and exhausted and staying there would have only lead to bad things. Besides, I have to save something for Greet the Meat tonight!

I will now leave you with this warning. Today is Friday the 13th, the start of Mid-Atlantic Leather, a four day weekend, and tomorrow is a full moon. All of this adds up to trouble. DC you have been warned. Even though we will be one Mean Girl short this weekend, it is going to be out of control.

real men

Last night I FINALLY saw Brokeback Mountain. What a great fucking movie. I read Annie Proulx's short story back in December and cried at the end. In the middle of jury duty. Tears, streaming down my face. The movie was just as moving, but I didn't cry this time. I did leave it feeling sad though. Heath Ledger definitely gave an amazing performance. I definitely think this movie deserves at least a nomination for Best Picture. All four of the lead actors were good and the story of lost love, unrequited love and hardship is a universal theme, whether you are a gay cowboy, or a grandmother.

I think that the thing that made me most sad about this movie is that, even though it ended in the 80s, you know that there are so many people living in small towns across this country pretending to be someone they aren't. I can't imagine never being able to express my love for someone, except for three or four times a year in the middle of the wilderness.

You have to wonder if some of the more rural parts of the country will ever be accepting of gays. At least to the point that young people won't be afraid to be themselves. I'm sure it will be somewhat similar to race relations, in so much that conditions will improve, but that hatred and bigotry will never completely disappear. It is lamentable how people find it so much easier to hate rather than to accept anything different.

I will definitely see this movie again. Hopefully, not at the Dupont Cinema though. The screen was small and the projector extremely noisy. Ang Lee uses, very effectively, a lot of silence in the movie, to force the focus completely onto the emotions of the characters. The loud projector ruined some of this effect for me though. All said, this is one of those movies where the emotion of it all will stay with me long after the last frame has faded.

4

Four jobs you’ve had in your life: dog kennel worker, waiter, elementary Spanish teacher, phone center rep
Four movies you could watch over and over: Braveheart, Moulin Rouge, Silence of the Lambs, Amelie
Four places you’ve lived: Woodbine, Westminster, Sevilla, DC (sorry, I was a simple country boy until I was 20!)
Four TV shows you love to watch: Lost, Project Runway, Rome, Desperate Housewives
Four places you’ve been on vacation: Key West, Tangier, Barcelona, Santorini
Four websites you visit daily: DListed, Washington Post, CNN, many friends' blogs
Four of your favorite foods: helmet cake, Reese's Peanut Butter, Mom's oven fried chicken, Granny's homemade green beans
Four places you’d rather be: Santorini, any time before noon - my bed, Sevilla, any place with my besties
Four albums you can’t live without: This question more than anything else is killing me. Asking me to pick just four albums is like asking a mother of four to only save one child from a burning building. OK, maybe not that dramatic, but if I must you will have to give me five because the last two are a tie. Tori Amos "Little Earthquakes", Janet Jackson "The Velvet Rope", Madonna "The Immaculate Collection", Christina Aguilera "Stripped", and Some By Sea "Get Off The Ground If You're Scared"
Four magazines you read: Entertainment Weekly, Smithsonian, Sports Illustrated (I have a subscription for some reason), Cargo
Four cars you’ve owned: '87 Ford Escort, '91 Ford Escort (both hand me downs from my dad and both of them I drove into the ground), '01 Saturn SL1 which I had until December '04 when I totaled it on I-95 outside of Baltimore. Now I have no car at all. :(

be without you

The title of this blog is two fold. First, I CANNOT stop listening to Mary J's new song of the same title. Her new album is amazing and I recommend that you go and listen to it. Secondly, apparently my dear old friend shenanigans and I cannot be without each other.

Tuesday at work I got a text message from Jamie inquiring as to my plans for the evening. I should have known right then and there what I was in for. Silly me, I thought that when Jamie said he wanted to meet for one or two drinks after work the night would end there. Of course it didn't.

We had a couple drinks at the Fireplace first. Yes, I did say the Fireplace. Yes, it is very dark and kind of sleazy in there, but Jamie loves it there and I enjoy the looks I get in there from all the sleazy mens. ;) Over drinks, Jamie pointed out to me that I am looking really good lately, like I am finally comfortable in my own skin. I never really thought of it like that, but he is right. I am comfortable with who I am. Granted, there are things about my appearance that I hate and want to change (who doesn't???) but overall I am happy with who I am. I think that I have finally reached the point of not giving a shit about what the bitter twink in the corner thinks of my appearance. There is so much more to life and if you can't accept me for who I am, then walk on by.

As we are drinking and catching up, I text Poo-Dell telling him to meet us out. He, of course, refuses. Jamie and I leave Fireplace and call Dianez to see if she would like to meet up with us. We pick her up at her apartment and then head over to DIK Bar to see Gladys set up for a night of karaoke. By this time, I have talked Poo-Dell into meeting up with us. Here is where the night spins out of control. There were some gin drinks, purchased by Jamie, knowing full well what those juniper berries do to us!

Jamie and Dianez headed out for the night, leaving Poo-Dell and I, half-lit, on 17th St. So what did we do? Headed out to JR's for another couple hours of drinking. After hanging out with Abbas for a bit, we dediced to hit one more Dupont watering hole for a night cap. Of course, in this establishment we both made acquantences of gentlemen of class and high social standing. Hehe. Or something like that.

Fast forward to 12:30 AM when I am finally getting home. Now, let's talk for a minute about how FUCKING miserable I was at work on Wednesday. Thank God I have my new video iPod with a bunch of episodes of "The Office" on it. I think I watched four or five that day just to pass the time.