You know that cold commercial where the animated character's head is a baloon and its floating above his body? That's sort of the way I feel, only not congested, or with a fever or cough. I just feel disconnected.
Maybe its because I had a wonderful couple of days with the guy. On Friday, I met him downtown at the Starbuck's in front of Westlake. Then we walked through some of the stores to find our outfits for the evening's party. It was a pretty painless affair, and, don't laugh, but the Gap came through again. Cheap-ish. Stylish-ish. A shirt from Banana. Then shoes from Payless--hey, if its good enough for Star Jones-Reynolds, its good enough for me. And finally a tie from the Rack. Cheap, definitely, but you have to keep in mind that the outfits were purchased with the expectation that some drink, food, vomit would spatter onto them during the course of the evening.
So we left the Rack and it was time to reveal my big secret. "One more stop," I said. And we made our way to 5th avenue. I'm pretty sure he had no idea where we were headed, and as we neared the Ramada, I said, "Oh, by the way, we don't have to go all the way back to my house because I got a room here." Champagne and beer was in the sink. We showered and got ready. The monorail passed occasionally in front of our window. I think we took entirely too long getting ready, but we kept getting distracted.
Then it was off to the employee party at the swank Hotel 1000. We had a few. We mingled. I introduced him as my boyfriend and it was only a little awkward at first. And it got easier as the night went on (for him, too). I shook the CEO's hand and I wanted to say, "Thank you for continually championing gay rights," or, "Thanks for being such an in-touch corporate leader," but I only said my name and shook his hand. He really is a good guy. He's a big homo. Been with his partner for a while. They're raising a kid. Plus, he's a board member of PATH. Anyway, two of my employees showed--which is 50%, not bad. The bad part is, both were totally lit. One was saying, "Oh yeah, Jeremy? He's a great boss. He lets us drink and make our own hours." Both statements are marginally true. Thankfully, they are both refutable. The food at the party ran out quickly so Phil and I left. It was happy hour across the street at McCormick & Schmicks. $1.95 burgers and $1.95 fried mozzerella (and not mozz. sticks, either). Then it was back to the hotel, where we talked about our feelings and really got to know each other on a deeper level.
The next morning, the sweetest guy in the world ran to Top Pot and grabbed a doughnut or three and some OJ and swung into Bartell's for some Advil. We checked out at noon. Left our bags at the front desk and went to see Casino Royale at the Cinerama. It was ok, but way too long and I was expecting more Daniel Craig exploitation--ok, ok, he was naked tied to a chair, but there was something completely missing in the film, and I think that thing was a good editor.
So then it was back home to a Tivo'd Battlestar. Phil came with me and we had a whole 'nother night together, which was nice. And I think that he only left me yesterday morning, and it feels like a world away because . . .
My parents arrived yesterday afternoon. They picked me up and presented me with their Christmas gifts. Every year my mother asks me what I want and I send her an explicit lists--a click-and-buy-list, a nearest-retailer-list--but I should have learned by now that those lists are completely pointless. Brand names, styles, cuts and color mean nothing to my mother. Her shopping consists of taking my list and finding the closest approximation at Wal-Mart. This year, I asked for an Adidas gym bag. The one I got has so much crap all over it (climbing rope, key chains) that I'm not even sure I can get into it. Then, I also get the other present--the one I didn't ask for, but for some reason, she thinks it would make a good gift. This year, that present is a waffle iron. That's cool. I'll use it. I'm sure the roomies would enjoy a nice waffle now and again. Its better than my 30th birthday M&M dispenser. But I make it sound a lot worse than it is, they also give me cash.
So then we went to dinners at, surprise, surprise, McCormick and Schmicks. The place has that 50's feel with white linens, napkins tented at each seat, and dark wood everywhere. Plus, besides having one of the best happy hour food menus in town, it also serves some of the freshest seafood. The conversation had that strange affectation of separateness that is hard to convey. I will say this, when the Cowboy game came on in the bar, it became much harder to keep my father's attention. I will also say that for two people so far out of their element, it is nice that they at least make the attempt to step outside of their box.
So then they went to the show, and I think they actually enjoyed it. My father said he liked the Rockettes--which, of course, was guys in drag. I mean, dude's old and senile, but I think he realized that it was guys in drag. My mom commented on Jesus being taken out of "In This Very Room." But, like I said, they were outside of their comfort zone, and I think they had a good time.
Huge thanks to Janice, Risa, and Keith for showing up and saying, "Hey" to the folks and me. What was your perception of my parents' reactions?
Oh, and speaking of friends, Maggie, I can't wait to see you next week for the show! Drinks after for sure. I'm calling you this week.
Oh, and speaking of being a bad son. Lynnie, I'm SOSOSO sorry I didn't get you those discs. I hope your party went well and I'll get you music very, very soon.
So, we're drinking tonight in the vault. Maybe that's why I'm spacey. But really, its more the worlds colliding and dust settling feeling. You know I'm having a bloody tomorrow with the folks at breakfast.
My first image today was that of a young Aretha Franklin in a slinky grey dress bathed in a pink spotlight. I'll let that set the tone for the week.
