A new old bar

After attending a farewell party where we sucked down a few delicious key lime martinis, Puppy and I went to the new Toad Hall bar, which opened up the other day. I was hopeful that it would be a fun, new place to hang out, with interesting people or a new vibe for the Castro, but alas, it's just like a Badlands annex. Same music, same bartenders, same clientele, and a janky hole in the wall that spews smoke to make it seem sexy.

Sadly, this seems like a missed opportunity. The wooden fixtures and warm lighting could have made a nice lounge. And since it holds only 121 people, I'm not sure why the owner felt the need to include a "dancefloor."

Wipe out

Swimsation, who is highly allergic to cats, planned to come over for dinner last night so I picked up some pre-moistened pet dander wipes to try out on Stefano DiMera. When I got home, Stefano was definitely excited to see me and eagerly trotted to the door to greet me.

However, he seemed thoroughly confused by my response. Instead of petting him like normal, I whipped out a pet dander wipe, held him firm, and started to wipe him down. He didn't really struggle, but he definitely didn't understand what was happening.

When the ordeal was over, he walked away, wet and unhappy. But it seemed to work! Swimsation never even sneezed during her visit.

Lemon party?

Seriously, if I'm in my 50s, going to a meth/GHB/hot tub party in the suburbs on a Tuesday night, will someone please kill me?

I hear the ticking of the clock

Although not as good as Carrie Underwood's rendition, I thought Alison Iraheta's version of "Alone" on American Idol last night was pretty good.
Or it may just be that I love, love, love this banana!

Password face

My boss just sent out an article that can be read only by logging into a content provider's site. For those of us non-subscribers, she supplied her own password: pokerface. Now, of course, I have Poker Face by Lady Gaga stuck in my brain!

Lunch for two

My boss was kind enough to schedule a team lunch to belatedly celebrate my birthday today, but no one else was able to make it at the last minute. So, it was just me and my boss, having a nice Thai lunch.

We ordered tons of food, including a really nice pumpkin and chicken curry for me (I left half of it there - I was so full!) and a few appetizers (for only two people!). It was sort of strange just being with my boss and she took the opportunity to discuss how other people on the team are performing, which was uncomfortable. I don't think she should reveal her thoughts on others' job prospects and performance to me, but as long as she keeps telling me I'm doing a good job, I don't mind so much.

I kept trying to switch the subject (pets! travel! music! television!) and when it worked, we actually had a nice conversation. Inevitably, however, we always came back to the workplace and now I feel like I have to tiptoe around my teammates with a head full of private knowledge.

Las ladies locas

Last night, I met up with BoomCat for a little movie treat. Because she's seen every movie out there, we ended up seeing He's Just Not That Into You, which I wasn't that excited to see, but went along with because I love Ginnifer Goodwin. And since there were so many high-profile lady actresses in it (Jennifer Aniston, Jennifer Connelly, Drew Barrymore, Scarlett Johansson, Ben Affleck!), I thought it might prove to be better than the commercials led on.

Well, I was wrong. The characters were whiney, neurotic stereotypes and if this is how women truly relate to each other, it's no wonder straight men flee from long-term relationships and marriage. Each of the characters came across as desperate, insane, hysterical and unworthy of the love they sought. It was as if each character were purposefully sabotaging her own relationship but completely baffled by why her crazy behavior pushed people away.

Neither BoomCat nor I enjoyed the movie, made especially more painful by the trio of Spanish-speaking girls behind us who would not shut up.

Baller brunch

Yesterday, Gloria Estefan and her husband braved the torrential rain and drove up to San Francisco for some brunch. I tried my hand at making a potato, onion, ham and cheese frittata, Puppy prepared some brown sugar bacon and Gloria Estefan and her husband brought up several large melons, a melon baller, some cinnamon rolls and two very important bottles of champagne.

We had a great time preparing our brunch together and catching up. They played with Stefano DiMera and insisted on helping with the dishes.

Sadly, Gloria Estefan and I don't see each other as much as we should. We remarked that it was about six months ago that we saw each other last - and it felt like that was a recent get-together, given our track record of late.

Coraline

Is Coraline supposed to be a kids' movie? Because Teri Hatcher as a skinny, skinny, needy button-eyed mother does not seem appropriate for most children.

Puppy and I donned 3-D glasses to see Coraline last night and it was a really pretty movie, with nice, subtle 3-D effects. Teri Hatcher's voice, however, is way too distinctive and sort of distracting. Given the context though, it was quite appropriate.

And luckily for us, our cab driver played us life-affirming Catholic sermons on the way home.

Friday fiestas

Roommates A&J took me to a sausage-themed birthday party last night where we hardly knew any of the attendees. Random sausages were strewn all about the condo, at least one of the guests was a porn star and there seemed to be a webcam in the bathroom. It was an interesting soiree, but we left quickly, picked up GarGar and Lezzies N&P and headed to another birthday party, this one with a Mexican theme.

After consulting the drink menu, we realized that we would get the most value by buying pitchers of margaritas. So, we got several pitchers, caught up with Dyson, Kitten and other friends, drank a lot and finished up the evening.

On my way home, I stopped by Starbucks and asked for a black tea, which the cashier gave me for free! I think he was distracated by the drunk fellow who'd entered the store, took off his shirt, looked about confusedly, then put his shirt back on.

Just your typical Friday night!

Tweet

Somehow, Selives convinced me to join Twitter, so now I've found yet another way to waste time.

Green clean

Charlotte York came to teach some of my colleagues about creating a "healthy" home, avoiding toxic substances and trying to reduce your daily impact on the planet. The topic is obviously one of interest because people came to hear her and sat on the floor!

However, I wonder if we only succeeded in spooking the audience. After the presentation, all I want to do is scrub my home from top to bottom and keep scrubbing forever (using non-toxic cleaning products, of course).

When is it going too far? If I take everything she said at face-value, I'd never use my microwave, never store foods in plastic, get rid of my mattress, invest in a new shower curtain, buy some less harmful furniture, time my hand-washing and ... basically never go outside!

The jock

Roommate J has used Facebook tags to associate many of our friends with characters from the Mr. Men and Little Miss series of books. My tag? The Jock. I don't think I've ever been called a jock, but I'm not going to worry about it, since I got off easy. Consider Roommate J's other tags:

The Slow One: Lucy Ricardo
The Pimp: Lezzie P
The One That's Up to No Good: PorkChop
The One That Always Gets Hurt: Roommate J
The Lazy One: Dyson
The Drama Queen: Mahogany Sparkle
The Tiny Dangerous One: Roommate A
The One With All the Gossip: Kitten
The One With the Bad Memory: Blanca

Actually, PorkChop hijacked the little game and rearranged many tags and introduced others. Still, The Jock isn't so bad...

Of highlights and pot pies

Kitten and Puppy came over for dinner last night for an evening of comfort food and discomforting television. I'd spent the day trying out a recipe for pork pot pie with a cornbread crust (I enjoyed it and would definitely make it again) and Kitten brought over an apple cake with cinnamon whipped cream and caramel sauce. Delish!

But the reason we'd gathered was to watch When Boys Fly, a "documentary" about a group of gays who attend the White Party in 2000. The film purported that it was the annual November White Party in Miami, but from the images onscreen, it seemed to be the Palm Springs version, in April.

The show unfolded around a few main characters. There was the neophyte who had no gay friends, never mind the occasion to attend a circuit party. Also featured was the young, hard partier, whose roommates threatened to kick him out if he didn't change his drug-addled ways. And there was the May-December couple: A 19-year-old party veteran and his lover of two years, a much older, obviously financially secure divorcé who left behind his wife and kids for a ... different lifestyle.

To add to our entertainment, the 19-year-old just happens to be someone we know quite well, who recently celebrated a gay marriage in Napa.

Not surprisingly, many clichés were introduced and few were shattered. The circuit neophyte ended up enjoying his experience more than he anticipated - and even called his mom from the dance floor to proclaim what a great time he was having. The hard partier succumbed to the prevalent drugs and ended up suffering a mild stroke at age 22. And the old dude left the young dude in a weekend "weaning" process that ended up in drama galore.

Most interesting to me was that the scene could have been taken from almost any White Party of recent years. You have the same mix of wide-eyed boys and grizzled veterans. The only difference was that most of the "boys" in the documentary sported horrendous blonde do-it-yourself highlights, including our friend.

Time for my treatment

I was excited to watch Friday night's premiere of Dollhouse, the new television series created by Joss Whedon, who brought Buffy the Vampire Slayer into my life.

And I can honestly say that I'm excited to see more, even if I was a bit underwhelmed by the first episode. Eliza Dushku, who made a great Faith on Buffy, does not hold my attention the same way Sarah Michelle Gellar managed to. And where was the signature Joss snarkiness? I couldn't detect any humor in the pilot at all.

It was, however, comforting to see that Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson's cousin is still getting work when the new American Gladiators isn't on the air. His boxing sequence with Tahmoh Penikett (Helo from Battlestar Galactica!) was bizarro, but quite pleasing to watch.

Valentine's sweets

On Saturday, after Puppy and I enjoyed a five-course Valentine's meal, we passed a homeless man on the side of the road. As we walked by, he yelled, "Happy Valentine's Day! Get your chocolates, but don't get no Hershey's choco...blech!" We didn't turn around to see what had happened, but it sure sounded like he barfed.

It's the Castro, after all

After last night's festivities celebrating GarGar's birthday, I stopped by two different stores, in search of the current issue of Playboy, featuring a nekkid Aubrey O'Day. Of course, I'm interested only in the articles! Any articles about what happened to Danity Kane!

At the first store, a liquor store that was stocked with all sorts of nudie mags featuring menz, the only naked girl mag available was Hustler. So, I figured 7-Eleven would have a Playboy for sure and stopped by the neighborhood outlet. Well, no nudie mags at all! The proprietor explained that it's located too close to a school.

I guess I'll try to find an issue when I'm downtown later today.

I can't take it any longer

I'm really loving this song, both the remix and the original version:This video, however, is a hot mess, with all the slowing-down and speeding-up. The song also begs the question, "What really is the point of those non-Nicole girls?"

Pen pal

Today, I received a message through Facebook from someone named Anwar Hossein in Bangladesh. At first, I was racking my brain, trying to figure out who Anwar was and how I knew him. Fortunately, his message cleared up my confusion and revealed that we don't know each other.

--------------------
(no subject)

Hello [PAnda!!!!],
Hope things are going very good with u !
How are u??

from facebook i discover u & without any hesitation writing to u also!-- if u becomes unhappy @ feel disturbed cz this mail i am extreeeeeeeemly sorry!!!

h/ever, u dnt know me & i also !!!


Sincerely: anwar

From: Dhaka, Bangladesh
--------------------

Checking out his profile, I realize that Anwar has only two friends and is Muslim. I don't think we'll be corresponding much.

Slow cooker trickery

For Christmas, my siblings were kind enough to get me a rice cooker/slow cooker contraption (I may have asked for one, in my quest to eat more healthily and lose the ever-increasing gut.) and I've made both the slow-cook recipes that came with it.

Yesterday, I tried my hand at the "chicken bacon casserole" which turned out basically to be the insides of a chicken pot pie. Yes, I enjoyed it.

But I kind of thought the whole point to slow cooking was to put stuff in a pot, turn it on, then have a delicious meal ready when you return home from work. No one told me that all the "prep" would actually involve chopping and chopping and cooking!

Both recipes required me to brown the meat, then saute chopped vegetables before plopping it all into the cooking bowl. If you have to cook it all anyway, you might as well finish cooking it and just eat it instead of waiting another half-day! That, of course, is just my opinion.

Is mom wearing mom jeans?

Over the weekend, I caught a few episodes of Whatever, Martha!, a television show that recycles old Martha Stewart Living episodes in the style of Mystery Science Theater 3000. Only this time, the commentary comes from Martha's daughter Alexis and her friend Jennifer.

Obviously, they pick the clips that have the most humor potential - like when Martha makes manure tea or when she pretends to get pricked in the eye with a needle as an April Fool's Day prank on her staff. Alexis is kind of boring, but sports a magnificently dykey haircut, which is fun to see in different style attempts.

Her hefty friend Jennifer Koppelman Hutt is really the star of the show, as far as I'm concerned. Kitten believes it's too easy to make fun of her size, given that her last name is Hutt (as in Jabba the), but it is sort of alarming to see her sprawled out on a couch, critiquing Martha's appearance. She is, however, the funnier and more clever of the two hosts and is definitely good at making me chuckle once or twice.

Put a ring on it

Puppy and I went to a birthday party on Saturday night that was filled with folks, wishing the twin brothers a happy 35th. Periwinkle was there and so was Turtle, so it was a fun celebration with far too many trips to the bar.

During the middle of the festivities, two friends of the gay twin busted on "stage" and performed to Beyonce's "Single Ladies." It was kind of like Shane Mercado come to life, complete with inappropriately skimpy outfit.

It was definitely an entertaining - and interesting - birthday gift.

Check up

Puppy and I just took Stefano DiMera to his first vet visit, which was fairly painless, save for the part where the technician stuck a thermometer in his bum and the part where the vet shoved a pill into his mouth.

As we waited for our turn, a frantic lady came in with her cat in a carrier and complained that he was dry heaving. She looked suspiciously at every dog or cat in the waiting area, and reacted very quickly to any sounds. Clearly, she was worried about her feline friend, but she could not have been more high-strung about it.

I worry. Is that what I'm becoming?

Lip-sync for your life

Last night, I caught RuPaul's Drag Race, a television series that pits nine drag queens against each other to become ... I'm not exactly sure what the goal is, actually. Something about an international drag sensation?

I found the episode to be thoroughly entertaining for several reasons, including the following:

* Remember how in Moonlighting, Cybill Shepherd was always filmed in soft-focus, like vaseline had been slathered on the camera lens? Well, the entire show is filmed like that! After a bit, I thought my eyes weren't focusing properly anymore.
* The gender illusionists faced a challenge where they had to take a photo while being hosed down by two muscle-men. The contestants did their best, but couldn't hide the fact that they were being drenched while in full drag!
* Bob Mackie was a guest judge!
* The two contestants who'd done poorest in the challenges had to compete in a lip-sync contest! And one of them failed to mouth any of the words.

Birthday booty call

To celebrate my birthday last night, Puppy took me to a lovely dinner at Nopa, where I dined on all sorts of delicious carbs (It was my birthday!).

And afterward, it was the grand re-opening of Juanita MORE's booty call party at the new Q Bar (which is exactly the same as the old Bar on Castro). So, we met up with Roommates A&J, Lezzies N&P, Dyson, Kitten and other crazy creatures of the night to drink and dance and take photos. People may have been there for the return of booty call, but I like to think it was my birthday celebration that brought them out.

At one point, Puppy got me a purple shot that flummoxed the bartenders. He had to explain the ingredients, then he insisted I drink it. So I did. And thus, my 33rd year begins just as many others have: hungover.

Thirty-three

It's my birthday! And I'm at work...

Celeb sighting: Spurs

Yesterday, as I walked down Market Street, I spotted none other than Eva Longoria's husband, Tony Parker, waltzing out of the Four Seasons. The San Antonio Spurs must have been in town for a game or something. I'm shocked I recognized an NBA player, but it helps when you're married to one of the Desperate Housewives.

LIghts, camera...

I just spent a few minutes taping a segment for a corporate video on diversity and inclusion. It's thanks to my Asian persuasion background that I'm included in these "opportunities," not because I'm particularly articulate (especially on camera) nor because I'm an expert on the subject.

The whole experience, which lasted only 20 minutes, made my poor little heart race faster than I expected. When I arrived, I was seated on a stool, under very bright lights, and a large man slipped a microphone through my shirt, then patted my face down with foundation ("It removes the shine," he said.).

I was instructed to think of the camera as "a good friend" and speak directly at it, while a lady posed questions from the other side of the room.

In all, it was an interesting experience and I had to start two of my responses over because I messed up mid-stream. It really is a good thing my career isn't in live television!

Forum flight

I'm taking a break from the sold-out State of Green Business Forum which is currently conducting a session regarding "green jobs." Since I already have a "green" job, I decided it would be an appropriate time to get a coffee since it's been difficult with the whole "staying awake" thing.

Funnily, my Starbucks break turned into a trip back to the office, where I decided to get some work done and respond to e-mails. I have a feeling I'm not returning to the Forum. Not even for the reception.

Half marathon morning

I woke up very, very early today (for a Sunday, anyway) to go cheer on Puppy and his friend as they ran the Kaiser Permanente Half Marathon in Golden Gate Park. Periwinkle picked me up in a cab and we stood at the designated cheering spot, looking for Puppy's yellow and black "bumblebee" outfit.

When they passed us, Puppy exclaimed, "Where's the sign?" since Periwinkle had promised that he would make some signs to help cheer them on. We had a while before they would reach the finish line, so Periwinkle made an impromptu sign out of a Hotel for Dogs movie poster and a borrowed sharpie.

We went to the finish line, watched the runners sprint, stumble and crawl to the end and cheered our running friends again as they made it to the end. Exhausted but undeterred, they went through the event expo and we convened for our 11:30am brunch reservation at the Beach Chalet.

I feel exhausted from watching and cheering, I'm not sure how I'd feel if I'd actually done anything today.