truvy
Monday, May 13, 2002
Try the Priest - a Weekend Feast
Friday night Cissy Galore (last year's Queen) had a party for the cast members of "Survival, Manhattan Drag Edition". Most of us had never seen the fruits of our labors (pardon the pun - drag queens, fruits...oh never mind) of a day of filming in drag last fall. I was (thankfully) voted off early (by those jealous bitches who KNEW I would win Queen, or who at least suspected), so I didn't have the long, gruelling day of challenges & immunities, although I did anchor my team's line to help us win the 1st challenge of a tug-o-war. Ah, it was a fun & crazy day, and Cissy and Jacques (her butch) did a wonderful job putting it together, as did John R. (Loopee Chenille's hubby) in filming & editing the monster project. As ever, it was fun to spend time w/ the girls, as we watched the video, surfed the internet for dresses & callboys, and ripped apart those who were foolish enough not to attend.
The next morning, I had my very first Equinox Swim Team workout. From 8:30 - 9:45, I re-lived the days of drills, sprints, laps & being coached, and I LOVED it! It's exactly what I need to get my ass back in the pool & ready for the Games next fall. Everyone was pretty friendly, and although it's "non-competitive", have someone to time yourself against while also concentrating on form, the exact drill, etc., is very helpful. My biggest surprise was how many people don't know how to swim backstroke. A few boys who were actually quite fast in freestyle & breast stroke just didn't have the backstroke basics down. I always assumed people learned all 4 strokes together, and just avoided butterfly as the least favorite (although it's my absolute favorite). But alas, I guess I was wrong, as these boys floundered, or rather, since flounder is a fish & can probably swim backstroke pretty well, they house-catted down & back during backstroke (picture the poor wet pussy-cat...aw...). Ah well, I suppose not everyone's parents threw them on the swim team at age 3 just because their older sister was starting at age 5 and they couldn't think of anything better to do with their little fey darling. Ah yes, dear reader, I was a darling little boy with long white-blonde curly hair, little sailor suits & buckled patent-leather shoes - very often matching my sister's outfits but with little shorts instead of a skirt or dress. Another strike against nature in the nurture debate...But I digress...
What a glorious weekend in DC! The weather couldn't have been nicer - warm, but not too hot, not too humid, light breeze, blue skies with puffy clouds. I took the 11 am Metroliner down with Bill C. and we had lovely chats, getting to know each other a bit better beyond our mutual adoration for Brian Stokes Mitchell. We checked into our hotel room at the St. Gregory, and took a nice stroll about town. That's when I got the tattoo, and followed it quickly with some not-so-good margaritas at one of the restaurants on 17th Street (I am often disappointed with margaritas, having grown up in Texas where they are done So well - I just don't see why these Mexican places insist on making them so damn sweet & so artificially limey! Can't you spend the $0.03 more per serving on a better mix? This limey shit tastes like the bottom of a crazy lime Lifesaver lick-o-rama). Oh well, the tequila did it's job anyway and took my mind off how Sore my damn shoulder was from being scraped & pricked by the tattoo artist. Ouch! Okay, so it's not major pain, but still, a bit more than I thought. Ah, but the tattoo bug has bitten & I want more.
That night, we met up with a friend from DC who is in the DC Chorus, and had a nice'ish dinner at Annie's (very gay, but really, the food is pretty dismal by NY standards - but really, it's more of an institution than a good restaurant). I guess we should have just gone next door to FoodBar DC, where some slightly healthier fare might have been an option. I think I'm going to go back to ordering off the menu. "I'll have 2 grilled chicken breasts please with some steamed vegetables. Yes, I know that's not on the menu, but I'm sure you can make it. Thank you darling." Well, perhaps something like that. Can you imagine not having just some sort of plain grilled chicken on a menu catering to fags? THIS is why I live in NY (well, among so many other reasons) - it's a fully-realized city. Others just pale in comparison, but again, I digress.
Sunday, after a leisurely morning with my New Yorker and brunch at a cute little Turkish place on 19th, we met Jim & habiby Mark to see the opening show of Sweeney Todd at the Kennedy Center, which the Post liked as well. I just adore Christine Baranski and well, you KNOW how I feel about Brian Stokes Mitchell. BSM, BSM, Mrs. Rob BSM.... hmmm, he's dreamy, not to mention unspeakably talented. I was terribly impressed and it was WELL worth the trip to DC. The set design was good, the costumes good (we were a little too close for the makeup artist I think though), and the players were all wonderfully enjoyable, especially the leads. I wish it were in NY, because I would go see it again.
After the show, we drove back to NY (Mark & Jim drove down that morning), and traffic on 95 sucks, if I may say so. The traffic getting up to some of the toll plazas was 30-40 minutes of delays. We stopped for dinner, so it wasn't full-time drudgery, but it took 6 hours to get home. Yuck - that's why I prefer the train to & from DC. One mildly interesting "overheard" item in the bathroom at one of the rest stops..."Did you get it up? Did you get it up? Put salt on it." Your guess is as good as mine.
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