Thursday, November 03, 2005

notes from the weekend

I'm back from my little Minneapolis adventure.
The weekend was wonderful, the wedding was wonderful, my friends were exceptional, and the weather was…acceptable.

I flew out on Friday morning and arrived in Minneapolis about 1:00. Chieko met me at the airport and since she had to hang around the airport until 2:30 to meet a client we stopped by an airport bar and grabbed an extra-large beer. Then we went to her parents' house to pick up her kids.
Let me tell ya – that house has one huge gaggle of kids. Two three-year-olds and two one-year-olds (two are her sister's). Jesus. Turns my hair white just thinking about it. We hauled the whole mess of them over to the park, and I spent a lovely afternoon pushing them in the swings, teeter-tottering, chasing them around pretending to be a scary monster, and trying my damndest to get them to call me "Uncle Matty."

My first evening in town turned out to be fairly mellow – just hanging out at Chieko's house, BBQ'ing, drinking Bud Lights, visiting with friends, and playing Cranium.
I did, however, suffer one of the saddest moments of my gay life. I drew the card where I was required to pretend to be Barbra Streisand. Not like a charades thing, but one where you just have to act and talk like the person. And I drew a complete blank. Complete blank. At that moment I realized that I really know nothing about the woman. I've never seen one of her movies (except for a teeny bit of The Mirror Has Two Faces – which sucked ass, and not in that good way). So in desperation I started saying lame things like "My nose is really huge!" and "I'm a huge stuck-up diva bitch!" and "I really, REALLY like soft lighting and nails sharp as claws!" all to cries of "cheater!" by the other players.
Damn – what kind of fag am I? I'm expecting my gay card to be revoked at any moment. *sob*
But I was quickly redeemed when my partner had to do charades for a movie, and after making a quick, vague motion of some sort of hoopy circle around her waist I shouted out "Gone With the Wind!!" after only about two seconds of the time had passed. What can I say? I'm just brilliant like that yo.
I went to bed about 2:00, and was roused bright and early by Chieko's two little angels. Goddamn – parents have to get up EARLY on the weekend, huh? At, like, 7:00! I helped little Rocco make pink pancakes (he likes to put food coloring in the batter) which made me feel right at home. Pride pancakes!
Chieko had to go help Les prepare for the wedding, so I spent the afternoon at a quiet little coffee shop doing some reading. Catherine picked me up mid-afternoon and we went to her place to get ready for the wedding. Jen picked us up there and off we went. It was at a lovely mansion in St. Paul, and I had the chance to catch up with several of my college friends who I haven't seen in years. And drink enough wine to make me way too giddy for my own good.

Around midnight we headed to a Halloween party at my friend John's apartment. I was drrrrrunk! I'd had about ten glasses of wine at the wedding and then switched to keg beer once we hit the party. The whole party is kind of a blur. Kiddo and his friend showed up at one point. It was good to see him again - and I use the term "see" loosely since everything had a wonderful haze to it. Then at some point John drunkenly begged Catherine and I to help him get people out of the apartment building. Catherine is a cop so she had that whole routine down.
*Lights up – GET THE FUCK OUT!*
After that we hit a late-night diner for some food. I think I got to bed about 6 a.m.

Sunday was chilly and rainy and I sat at a Starbucks and cruised the Minneapolis hotties. Then Jen, Stacy and I went to a delicious Italian restaurant. Delicious in terms of the food and in terms of the waiters' asses. My favorite waiter was obviously straight, but I still couldn't help falling in love with him. We named another waiter "Menacing Eyebrows" – for obvious reasons – and more than once he gave me a sly little smile. If I still lived in Minneapolis I would totally stalk him.

I was feeling kind of down and blue yesterday because my fun vacation is over, and as soon as I got back I started to come down with some sort of zany head/chest cold. I should have seen that coming because I ALWAYS get sick when I travel (I blame airplanes) and Chieko was sick on Saturday and Sunday. And I was hanging out with little kids (or carriers as I prefer to call them) way more than usual. Bleh.
But…I was cruising through my favorite blogs yesterday and I got to see nudie pics of Jeff Probst from Survivor! Hee hee. I don't know – maybe they're fake, but they look pretty real to me. And let me tell you, Jeff is doing JUST FINE for himself down there. Oh baby.
OK – so, my crush on Jeff has officially been resurrected. I think I'm going to watch Survivor tonight and play with myself! No – wait. I KNOW I am. *RAWR*

And it is now official: I am definitely going to hell. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.
No matter how hard I try to get to work on time, if I'm shooting for 8:30 I'll end up getting here around 8:35 or 8:40. If I'm shooting for 8:00, it'll probably be about 8:15. But today I was on the ball, left my apartment at 7:35, and was right on track to be 7:55-boy!
Then, about six blocks from work, the mall ride stopped on the corner of Champa, I turned and looked out the window, and saw a handicapped homeless man in a wheelchair wanting to board. Which means everyone has to clear out of the handicapped spot, the driver has to get out, put down the ramp, roll the guy up, put the ramp back up, blah blah. My stress level immediately jumped about five notches.
But just as soon as the guy was on board and we started moving again, I immediately felt my cheeks flush with shame. I mean, what's a couple minutes of delay compared to being able to walk? How in the world could I be so unbelievably selfish? What are the numerous obstacles and bullshit that man faces everyday? And I consider that silly little delay an inconvenience in my ridiculously charmed life?
And as I was sternly reprimanding myself and promising to never again be so insensitive the bus pulled up to the next corner where, yep – another homeless handicapped person was waiting to board.

I walked into work late – as usual. Oh well. I don't want to get my coworkers' expectations up too high anyway.

Yep, I'm surely going to hell.
Big whoop. After all, it's only going to FEEL like an eternity.


Anonymous duane said...

I don't like Barbara, and I know the gay mafia are tagging me right now for saying that, but next time, just think, "Papa can you hear me?", and it will get you out of a jam!

1:25 PM  
Blogger Sven said...


I can't remember the last time I stayed out that late. You make me feel old.

1:46 PM  
Blogger denverboy said...

Oh - come on Sven. I've read your blog. I KNOW you know how to party. There is just something about Mpls though. Probably cuz I lived there when I was 22-24 and my brain thinks I'm still that age when I go back.

Duane - I totally should have said that. The other thing I thought of later was "I'm just like buttah!" Oh well. I'll know better the next time I'm required to act like B.S. (ha - her initials are B.S.!)

2:31 PM  
Blogger Matt S. said...

Minneapolis this past weekend was so much fun! I think there is something extra in the alcohol there, it allowed me to get drunker then I have in years, remember almost everything, have an amzing time with no issues, and stay up until 5am (which was secretly 6 am because of the time change). It is a magical place, I must go back there soon!

Glad that you also had an amazing time!

2:58 PM  

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