Sibling rivalry

I spent the day working from home today and tending to the cats. Despite our best efforts, they're not exactly good friends yet. In fact, as soon as they got near each other, they started fighting, claws out! So, they've spent most of the day separated in different rooms. We'll see how long this "introduction" phase lasts.

Suicide blonde

It's been months since we first became aware of a certain grotesque piece of filth on Facebook, and sadly, we continue to follow his craziness. This self-pitying gay with the low-budget, bleached-out hairdo continues to overshare with the internets. From his sex club escapades to his techno-geek obsessions, all details of his life are broadcast to the world in gory detail.

Well, according to his Twitter feed, this fellow was on a little suicide tip last night. This behavior is nothing new, since he claimed that he was trying to jump off the Golden Gate bridge during Pride weekend a few weeks ago. "Friends" and Twitter followers became alarmed and alerted the authorities, but the next day he returned to hitting the bars and bragging about how many "hot" men he bagged.

He claims that he'll be homeless starting tomorrow night, in an effort to save money for cosmetic surgery. In fact, his journey to a thinner self has been chronicled by a few third-rate publications and blogs and his self-destructive tendencies have been detailed by at least one first-rate daily.

Roommate A wrote a pretty scathing message to him, admonishing him for raising funds for cosmetic surgery (a donation button on his blog!) when real people around the world struggle with more important issues like access to clean water. Selives has encouraged him to stop the melodrama and one of his friends doused him with ranch dressing since he showed up uninvited to a BBQ. He's turned out to be quite the incendiary figure, sparking strong reactions, eyeball-rolls and exasperated sighs.

All of this amounts to desperate cries for help, and I'm sorry to indulge them, but it's just such a trainwreck that I cannot stop. And so, I share some of the gems from last night ([sic] all over the place, obviously):

"I'm fat, ugly, and no one has ever loved me...I've never had a boyfriend...or a guy who has wanted me for a 2nd day...I'm a loser"

"My mom was going to abort me...there are many a nights...sorry...there are EVERY night that I wish she had. I'm a fat overweight ugly loser"

"if one person even cared about me I wouldn't ve living on the streets come Saturday"

"I'm depressed because my mom didn't say abort"

"KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL"

"STOP FUCKING TEXTING AND CALLING ME YOU ASSHOLES...NONE OF YOU CARE FOR ME AT ALL...YOU ARE ALL LIARS AND NO ONE LOVES ME"

And then, this morning:

"I don't know, but I like the way my hair looks in this pic...doubt I'll ever grow it out again though. http://flic.kr/p/4vxJSv"

I wish I could turn away, but I simply cannot.

Well, you have potential

Yesterday, I brought home a potential sibling for Stefano DiMera, a scrawny little kitty whose name may become Victor Kiriakis. When Puppy and I visited the pound this past weekend, Potential Victor (PV) immediately warmed up to us and nuzzled us with all his might. His little Janis Joplin rasp was endearing and he definitely charmed us into thinking he was the best of the bunch. So, we filled out the requisite paperwork and waited a few days for them to snip off his testicles and to explain to Stefano that he would be getting a brother.

Well, yesterday, PV arrived home and immediately took to exploring his new surroundings. Stefano, meanwhile, hid under the bed and made unseemly growling noises whenever PV wandered too close. PV took to hiding in the litter box, which emboldened Stefano and the two started to dance around each other, curious to know the other kitty in the house.

Sadly, curiosity turned quickly into animosity and the two were chasing each other, scratching at each other's eyeballs. Stefano suffered an unsightly scratch across the nose, yet he continued to tease PV into little altercations. PV, it seems, gets very jealous when Stefano receives attention. Stefano, on the other hand, seems to get resentful and sulks whenever we pay attention to PV.

It was a fitful night, with neither kitty ceding ground and little padded feet galloping about. There was hissing and meowing and threatening growls, so the two would-be brothers were separated. Stefano in the comfort of the bedroom and PV in the new spaces to explore.

This morning, when I left for work, the two were eating each other's food, chasing each other around and continuing to hiss and growl at each other. If this behavior doesn't improve, PV will have to be returned to the pound (within the 2-week grace period) and other Potential Victors will have to be auditioned.

Olé

Last night, Dyson and his boyfriend came over for a little south-of-the-border dining experience at my little home. I prepared a "Mexican lasagna," a Latin-type bean salad and for dessert, arroz con leche. The dessert, sadly, didn't turn out how I'd hoped, so Puppy improvised some red velvet bars that weren't so Mexican, but still delish.

We shared frozen margaritas, some chips and salsa and tales of our pets. I guess we've reached the age where our conversations focus less on who did what to whom at which bar and more on how our little animal charges respond to various training techniques. Maybe that's a good thing for a Monday night.

Champagne Sunday

Yesterday was the annual Dore Alley "festival" in San Francisco - an occasion for gays to wear leather (or nothing at all) and do dirty things in public. For the uninitiated, it can be really upsetting, but for those of us jaded San Franciscans, it's old hat.

Luckily for the revelers, it was a gorgeous, hot day, so Puppy and I decided to visit the event. We had a beer, I ate some fried chicken, and we walked through the crowds of people. Quickly.

Neither of us seemed that interested in the goings-on, so we high-tailed it back to the Castro and visited Beetle at the bar. Blanca was in town, celebrating his birthday, so it was fun to catch up with him, while I guzzled on different variations of kir royales, bellinis and other champagne cocktails.

I ended up spending time in the corner, working on a crossword puzzle before finally heading home with some Indian food. It wasn't exactly the Dore Alley weekend I've experienced in the past, but it was fun nonetheless.

You're invited

The other night, as Puppy and I made our way through a few neighborhood bars, we came across a group of his friends, celebrating a lady's upcoming nuptials. Understanding that every celebration of this nature deserves more alcohol, I took this as my queue to get her a shot!

Puppy spent time with the group, modeling someone's luxurious rabbit-fur coat, and I bounced around, spending time with Roommates A&J and the bartenders. As we left, the engaged lady took me aside and said that she'd really like Puppy and me to attend her upcoming wedding in a few weeks. I shall wait by the mail for her invitation!

I was hanging in the corner with my five best friends

I remain unconvinced that Blair Waldorf is a good singer or that she should release an album, but I admit that I find her little ditty with Cobra Starship very catchy.

Singing in the dead of night

Last night, Puppy and I went to the grand opening soiree of a new bar, Blackbird. It's a welcome addition to the Castro neighborhood - stylish without being gaudy-gay (no mirror ball, subtle details, classy!), yet chillaxed enough to just hang in an unpretentious way.

I feel like I hadn't been out in a long time, so it was nice to bet out and about, catch up with GarGar, Lezzies N&P, Kitten and other folks in the scene. We left relatively early, so we missed seeing Roommates A&J, Mattress and Beetle, but Puppy insisted on getting some pizza at the night's close, and when we did, we ran into PorkChop and Elizabeth Taylor, whom I've missed hanging out with.

Somehow, I need to rejuvenate and train my body to accept alcohol on weeknights like it used to when I was a young'un.

There's only one Amanda Woodward

So, it looks like the new Melrose Place has cast an actress who looks alarmingly like Heather Locklear, who played resident bitch (and eternal "special guest star") Amanda Woodward. No one can replace the original Amanda. That said, I'm totally watching this crap when it comes on in the fall!

Urinate conversate

It is my understanding that some women's restrooms have adjacent "lounges" where ladies presumably sit around and chat with each other. I've never encountered a men's restroom with a similar setup, and that's just fine by me. I don't really want to engage in conversations in the restroom, and I certainly don't need to chat with my urinal neighbor.

Today, during one of my conference breaks, several of us made a break for the restroom. As I stood at my urinal, keeping completely to myself, one of the other conference-goers sidled up next to me, turned to me and said, "I hope I don't pee all over my shoes!"

Not sure how to react, I just continued staring forward and finished my business. At least it wasn't like that one gentlemen whom Roommate J encountered in an airport restroom who exclaimed, "It's a python! It's a python!" as he did his business.

The business card doesn't say "chemist" for a reason

Internets, today's conference started off positively, but after lunch, it took a definite turn for the worse. Somehow, we entered the "green chemistry" part of the conference and I found myself completely lost during several presentations.

Among the conference attendees are several smartypants PhDs with very technical chemical backgrounds. Thus, it's not difficult to understand why my eyes glazed over during the following moments:

* All through the presentation entitled "Developing a Green and Sustainable Approach for Pharmaceutical Chemical Synthesis."

* When one presenter decided that "metric" was a verb, as in "I can metric it."

* During a presentation that included 65 slides. SIXTY-FIVE!

* When one presenter emphasized that "enzymatic hydrolysis of Cyano diester enabled early resolution of chiral center."

* When the slide entitled "Synthesis of a 1-butyl-3-methyl-imdiazolium bromide" graced the screen, with a picture of some liquid in a beaker.

* Through the compelling case example entitled "Medicinal Chemistry Pregabalin Synthesis"

I wonder how they'll all react tomorrow when I discuss the very technical and complex topic of ... talking to your employees!

This ain't no cheesesteak

When you think of culinary delights in Philadelphia, the cheesesteak comes to mind. And not much else. Given my affinity for foods of all flavors, I would have been pleased to dine on a traditional Philly cheesesteak tonight, but IronWoman and her delightful girlfriend had another idea in mind.

Instead, we headed to a hip, festively (and modernly) decorated Mexican restaurant that served delicious frozen blood orange margaritas and high-end fare. We filled our bellies with guacamole, salsa, enchiladas and the like and caught up.

My in-person moments with friends outside of San Francisco are so few and far-between, so tonight's delicious dinner was especially lovely.

Puttin' on the ritz

I landed in Philadelphia and I'm staying at the Ritz-Carlton, which The Communist informs me is a historic site. It's a beautiful hotel and I feel mightily underdressed.

Normally, my company wouldn't put me up in such fancy digs, but I'm speaking at a conference that's being hosted here and the conference organizers are footing my lodging bill. I feel like I'm bamboozling them, somehow. Don't they realize that I'm like a kid? In a moment, I plan to jump on the bed.

Gossip girls

The other night, The Communist and her husband came over for dinner with me and Puppy. Despite our best efforts, I think every conversation topic turned toward horrible people or juvenile misdeeds, affording us an opportunity to be mean spirited and gossipy. Oh well, I guess I should just embrace my inner Blair Waldorf.

My head has been filled with rainbows and Enya

Why mess with a classic? I really enjoyed the movie 10 Things I Hate About You much more than I thought I would, and not because of Heath Ledger. It was written well, acted well and cute! Plus, one of the main actors grew up in my sleepy little town.

Now, ABC Family has created a television series from the movie, and I ... like it. There, I said it. I enjoy the television show!

I shall forever remain a 12-year-old-girl.

View from the top

Sometimes, it's fun to play tourist in your own city. You discover things that people in Topeka, Kansas already know but have somehow remained a mystery during all your years as a snobbish local.

Yesterday, Charlotte York and I decided to visit the bar atop our local Marriott, The View, and we were impressed by, well, the view! It was a great location for a drink and to catch up and I may add it to the list of places to take out-of-towners (or at least places to direct them while I do boring things like go to work).

Earlier in the day, I interviewed a candidate for an open position in our department and it turned out to be one of Charlotte York's close friends! Once we made this connection, the interview was over. Out the window went my professionalism and I offered to connect her with other people who might have positions for which she would be much better suited.

So it turned out to be a good day of catch-up with Charlotte York, one where we could watch videos of our African travels while enjoying a pretty spectacular view of San Francisco.

l'as du falafel

For lunch today, I went with a co-worker to a new Mediterranean deli across the street and I selected a delicious falafel sandwich. It was pretty good, but only succeeded in making me long for the beautiful, tasty falafel sandwiches from l'as du falafel (which translates into "ace of falafel"), in Paris's marais district.

It came as a complete surprise that Paris would have superb (and cheap) falafel sandwiches, but there are several places where you can get a mighty tasty falafel treat. And of these, l'as du falafel was my absolute favorite! Something about the hot sauce and the vegetables they stuffed in the little pita made it burst with flavor and I don't think I've had anything comparable since.

Expelliarmus

During a catch-up lunch with Gleemonex today, I learned that her department is leaving work to see the new Harry Potter this afternoon. Meanwhile, I'm at my desk, tending to meetings and getting work done (for reals!). What might have been, had I not left my last place of employment...

School's out for summer

I just received an e-mail from an administrator from my undergraduate alma mater, and she wished me a "wonderful summer." And I guess for a lot of people, summer is a different kind of season, one where you have to figure out what to do with your kids, where work slows down or where there are newfound outdoor activities.

But since I chose to join the land of corporate America, summer is really just the same as all the other seasons, especially in San Francisco where summer can mean cold, foggy days. So, it always strikes me as funny that people wish me a great summer when I'm still doing what I do everyday: sitting at my cube, tap-tapping on the keyboard, trying to convince myself to get to the gym.

Sideswipe

On the way to the Joan Baez concert, our taxi cab may have gotten into an accident. We may have hit this poor, innocent SUV that was waiting to turn right when our driver smashed into his side and exclaimed, "Oh, no. Not again!"

Nonetheless, we made it out of the cab and into the concert.

Celeb sighting: We shall overcome

Puppy and I ended up at a Joan Baez concert with Periwinkle and his friends today. One of the girls in our group invited her parents along so that we could treat them to some plastic glasses of wine, but otherwise, it was a fun time and I appreciate that Joan's voice is more pleasant than Britney's.

The Stern Grove was a lovely venue with trees and such and we had a tasty time with wine and cheese, but I think we were kind of cranky because of Puppy's foot.

Nonetheless, the free wine helped to lift our spirits and dumb down my brain.

Adventures in doggysitting

So, apparently, Puppy broke his foot in Puerto Vallarta and just realized the seriousness of his injuries this week when he went to the hospital. Since he had already committed to taking care of a big doggy named Jupiter, I had to bring him to my house, where Stefano DiMera was on the concerned side.

Nonetheless, Jupiter and Stefano learned to get along after some time and after Stefano tried to swipe him with the paws, he sort of enjoyed nuzzling up to him to get some affection.

Oh no

I just found someplace that serves hash browns at lunch. They weren't that great, but still...

Night of Ricki

Last night, I settled into the couch to enjoy a night of Ricki Lake. It wasn't my intention to celebrate the erstwhile talk show hostess, but it kind of evolved into that.

First, Puppy and I watched the most recent episode of Charm School, which isn't nearly as good as the first season when Mo'Nique whipped those Flavor of Love girls into shape (sorta).

Then, I popped in the only netflix I had at my home: Hairspray. Um, Ricki certainly has lost a lot of weight in the course of two decades! You go, girl!

Christ Al-Michael!

I just rode the muni with quite the character. A man with long dreadlocks and filthy clothes hopped onto the train and sat down, giggling to himself and letting out an occasional "WOO!" He wore a magenta cap adorned with Obama and Cindy Sheehan buttons and clasped a large plastic bag.

He turned to some passengers and said, "Christ Al-Michael! Christ Al-Michael!" before taking out a large poster of Michael Jackson on a cover of Ebony magazine from his bag and proudly displaying it to all the passengers on the bus.

He continued, "God sent only two people down to earth: Jesus Christ and Michael Jackson! Christ Al-Michael! Look! Michael has an eight-pack! Not just a six-pack! An eight-pack!"

After carefully replacing the poster in his plastic bag, he continued to laugh and exclaim "Chist Al-Michael!" for the duration of the ride.

The non-9-to-5ers

My workplace is very generous when it comes to the 4th of July. In addition to having Friday off for the holiday, we also had yesterday off to celebrate. And since my trip to Puerto Vallarta was cut short, thanks to nasty United Airlines, I had a day at home to run errands, while my fellow cubicle-jockeys were toiling away.

Visiting the supermarket during off-hours is always an interesting experience. I once stopped in during a Sunday night around midnight and saw a few drunk teenagers amid the aisles and this one frail woman who looked like death. Her skin was nearly translucent and she smeared on her red lipstick and eye liner in such a severe fashion that she looked like she had a mask on. She was totally out of it and I figured that she visits the store during off-hours because she'd scare little kids. I kind of felt sorry for her.

And yesterday, as I shopped the aisles, I came across a lady with a parrot on her shoulder! The parrot chirped along to the muzak and they went along their merry way. At one point, I heard screeching coming from one of the checkout lanes and I spotted the lady, sprinting to her bird, shouting, "I'm coming! I'm coming!"

Later in the day, as I was driving to the kitty hotel to pick up Stefano DiMera, a man walked in front of my car wearing baggy jeans, an ornate Ed Hardy hoodie and a clown mask. Just going along his business, crossing the street.

It's such a shame that my corporate life prevents me from interacting with more of these characters.

Alcohol island

Since all of Puerto Vallarta was dry this weekend, Puppy had the grand idea of procuring copious amounts of alcohol and seeking out other activities that didn't involve a bar that served only sodas and food.

Thus, he gave a shady Mexican some pesos in return for the promise of a yacht tour where we could bring our own booze. Yesterday morning, we trekked out to the dock to see if there was a boat waiting for our party of 10 or if Puppy had been swindled.

Fortunately for us, a boat scooted us along, to a little cove where lots of other boats had docked with equally sober passengers. The boat captain threw some Wonder Bread into the water and some beautiful tropical fish started a feeding frenzy. All of Puppy's friends snapped on their goggles and popped in their snorkels and dove into the waters.

As I adjusted a pair of goggles, I noted that several of my amigos complained about getting stung by jellyfish. Puppy lasted approximately three minutes before clambering back on the boat, complaining of sharp stings. Thus, I made the decision to abandon my goggle adjustment and wait for the snorkelers to finish their little fun. Fortunately for me, a few minutes later, all the gays were back on the boat and we were on our way.

We left the snorkeling area and ended up on a nearby island that was serving alcohol! We stayed on the beach, ate Mexican food and drank pina coladas to our hearts' content.

When our time was up, we returned to the gay beaches of Puerto Vallarta, where we sat in the sun with our hidden bottles of booze and ordered virgin frozen lemonades and enhanced them before sucking them down.

Thank goodness Puppy and Periwinkle had the foresight to purchase some boozes and to book a little four-hour cruise once they learned about the terrible Fourth of July weekend ban on al-key-hauls.

Suffrage

So, the residents of the Jalisco state in Mexico are about to elect a new president/governor. And because the state wants people to vote with a clear mind, no alcohol will be served after midnight tonight! What did I do to deserve a dry trip to Mexico? I shall drink as much as possible while I still can.

Puerto sigharta

So, I flew to Puerto Vallarta with Periwinkle's boyfriend and have had a few maragaritas. Puppy's friends have been very kind, even though the weather is totes stormy and gray.

PV isn't quite what I was expecting, but I shall make the most of it.

The elite of the elite

It wasn't until my freshman year of college, when I moved across the country to New England, when I learned about prep schools. I knew of private schools and public schools, but the world of New York prep schools (and boarding schools like Exeter, Andover and Choate) were completely foreign to me.

Now, NYC Prep is airing on Bravo and trying to show the world that Gossip Girl is "reality." The kids featured on this show are awful. Just awful. They try to act like they're 30, but their immaturity shines through. They're so awkward and uncomfortable in their own skin and they put on airs and project who they want to be.

And the one girl who goes to Stuyvesant longs so desperately to be included with the Upper East Siders that she doesn't seem to realize she already is part of the elite, having gotten into Stuy.

And the Chuck Bass character? Roommate J, SameBrain and I all think he's got to come out in some future episode. He has only girl friends and is very much into fashion. And that's only on the surface. Other traits belie his emerging sexuality struggle.

Finally, the girl Bravo chose to play the Blair Waldorf character? Busted face! She is terrible and pretentious and hopefully destined to an unfulfilling life of marrying in her class and popping out babies, while popping pills.

Ho-tel, mo-tel, kitty-cat inn

Since Puppy and I will be away for the weekend, we've decided to treat Stefano DiMera to a "luxury vacation" at a local cats-only kennel.

We toured the facilities the other week and found them to be quite nice, with a lovely lady who absolutely loves cat-type creatures. They even serve guests a little caviar treat each night before bedtime!

I'm a bit nervous that Stefano won't want to return to my boring home where he has no one to play with all day while I work.

Dim-promptu sum

I had to run a banking errand in Puppy's work neighborhood so we just had an impromptu luncheon meet-up. And we stuffed ourselves with dim sum!

It's been nearly 14 months since Puppy and I first floated the idea of lunching together and now it's finally come to fruition, thanks to a quick text message as I was waiting for the bank teller to verify my last name. Hello, food coma...