truvy
Tuesday, May 07, 2002
Weekend Update
Ah, I wasn't in much of a mood to give you kids a weekend update yesterday, but now seems as good a time as any.
Friday night I went up to the house with my adorable dog, Rowan. We got in at around 9, making the 108 mile trip in pretty good time (without the b.f. nagging me about cops & speeding & such nonsense). I had been listening to an oldies station that has an all-request show, and I called in when I happened to be in cell-range, and requested "Midnight Train to Georgia" by Gladys Night & the Pips. I love that song, and so did everyone else in 1973 when she won the Grammy for it, after having just performed it live on the awards show. Anywho, I requested it around 8:30, and the show goes from 7-10, so I was just plum tickled when they played it for "Rob in the Catskills" at around 9:50. I danced around the living room, singing into my bottle of Corona, as Rowan playfully danced & ran around me too - thinking it was all the greatest fun, which it really was. Some little-kid part of me had such a thrill having MY NAME said on the radio. Ah, I guess it was the right place & the right time, cause I was all sorts of happy, and had to call RJ to tell him about it after the song was over.
Saturday morning brought 2 early-morning wakey-wakey calls from Rowan, one at 3:30 and the other at 5:45. I know he's all excited and rilly rilly needs to go outside & check it all out on our first night there (always), so I've taken to indulging him in this (since he's pretty fucking persistent) and just using it as an opportunity to put another load of laundry in the machine & fold whatever is ready to come out of the dryer. Not terribly exciting, but these little household duties give me a calm sense of purpose and achievement.
The electrician came about 8:30 to install 5 light fixtures (2 with ceiling fans on the 3rd floor) and to finish all the outlets & switches on the 3rd floor. A full day's work, or at least I knew it would be, because really no matter how much or how little there is, the guy is there for a full day & it's $1000 every time they step foot in the door. Well, evidently he forgot to calculate in his time the 2 light fixtures for the living room, cause at the end of the day, when I kept thinking he was taking a really really long fucking time, he said "Well, I guess we're finished", and I was like "Yeah, maybe with this floor, but you've still got the 2 fixtures on the 1st floor to do!" Of course, it was 4:30, and he wasn't going to stay, and I was really fucking pissed off. My good mood of getting lots done in the house evaporated in about 3 seconds. He looked at what he thought he had to do, calculated how quickly he had to work and still make it a full day, and worked at that slow, leisurely pace, forgetting to add in the small details of 2 other light fixtures that were waiting on the 1st floor. Stupid and lazy pigfucker. I get so frustrated with manual laborers. You can't find an honest or a decent one in the whole fucking county, but since I'm not going to spend my entire weekend every weekend renovating the house, I am forced to hire these bozos, who are all in demand because of the amount of work on houses that needs to be done up there, so they don't even try to be efficient or good at what they do. The worst so far has been the plumber, who is a nightmare and an asshole, and evidently leaves everyone out to dry while he just picks up more & more work that he never completes. Ah, the joys of home ownership.
Anyway, as soon as he left, I got the house finished put together & left for the City. RJ and I had a black-tie party at the MoMA for his EMBA program at Columbia. He had just finished with his final exams that afternoon, and thank God he only has one more term to go. I know he's happy to have this term behind him. The party was okay, and I did get to meet a few gay boys, one of whom is a new student in the EMBA program, having just finished his 1st term, and his partner, who's an actor & singer. They're from Texas too, so it was a fun time chatting with them for a while.
I left early (about 12) to go home & change, because I was meeting Tomas, Randy & Raphael at 1 to stock up on some vitamins and then go to Roxy, which was fierce fierce fun! Manny Lehman was spinning, and I'm not a DJ expert or snob or afficianado of any sort, but he was great! The music was fabulous, the boys were hot & sweaty, and everyone was having a great time. I had a great time, danced my ass off and groped/was groped by a lot of hot men. Alternately, I seemed to be a bit of a freak magnet off & on during the night. There was this one boy, cute enough but not terribly so, who kept dancing right behind me and tapping me on the shoulder or shaking my water bottle (kept of course in my back pocket). I would turn around & he would shrug his shoulders & smile...after a while I was like, Hello? If you'd like to say hi, please do so & dance with us or something, but you're creeping me out a little, Mary! Then there was this guy who I like to call "The Poser". He's about 42-45 I would guess, with a really nice, big muscular body. But he stands around flexing & posing, and leaning and rubbing up against people while doing poppers. Well, he latched onto me for a while & would follow me from one place to the next, rubbing & leaning. I thought it best to ignore him, to the extent possible, and eventually he went away on his own accord. There were a few other freaks, but they were outnumbered by hotties, so overall I had a great time. I think maybe it's because I tend to smile a bit more than some people when I'm dancing (no unapproachable scowl for me, thank you very much), so sometimes a generic "E-I'm-having-a-great-time-dancing-aren't you-and-won't-you-please-move-aside-for-a-second-so-I-can-get-to-my-friends" smile is taken as a "I'd-love-to-fuck-you-freak-so-won't-you-please-come-stalk-me" smile. The 2 are very similar, I know, but you'd think people would figure the difference out after about 30 minutes of me not paying them any mind. Ah well, freak magnet that I am, I still had a rocking-good time. By the way, I don't want you to think that I'm the stalkable-type, cause really I'm not. I always feel really inferior and self-conscious around all those beautiful men (well, at least until the E kicks in, then I still feel it but I don't care). I have a very realistic view of my body and know that I'll never have as nice a body as "those" boys, I'll hopefully never be a huge Jessye-Norman'esque battleship of a whale, but I do know my limits. Trust me , there are many many others much worthier of being stalked. I'll give you some names, or at least descriptions if you want...
Sunday, after I got home around 7, was spent trying to relax & sleep a bit (not very successful until after some conversation about upcoming vacations with RJ and some hot man-on-man action with said boyfriend), and then brunch with N and S&R and their new daughter R. We went to Barney Greengrass, the Sturgeon King, and I had a wonderful Nova Platter. I hadn't been there in years, and I was so happy when I left, their bagels are always toasted just right, the salmon was fabulous, the potato salad divine, the onions strong enough & the tomatoes succulent! I could eat there every day, but then of course I'd be the size of Jaba the Hut, and of course we wouldn't want that!
So gentle reader, it was a good weekend. A little housework, a lot of driving, a bit of partying & dancing, some time & sex with the b.f., and rest & walks with the dog. Who could ask for anything more?
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