« November 2006 | Main | January 2007 »
December 27, 2006
Things NOT to do on Christmas Eve
We had a great trip to Chicago. No major stress getting to the airport, no major stress at the airport, and no major stress on the plane. Great relaxing time with our friends. Only one thing went a bit awry.
One shouldn't break ones partner's nose while being affectionate.
I didn't mean to break his nose, I swear. We were going to bed, and I started to tickle Derrick. Tickling Derrick is endlessly amusing for me, as I love watching an erudite and formidable person transform into a giggling five year old. He goes into the fetal position, never thinking to retaliate, just giggling helplessly. It is SO CUTE.
This time, he lurched forward as I tickled him, the bridge of his nose slamming into my forehead. With a great CRACK, delicate cartilage lost the battle to skull.
He was not amused, not amused at all. He gives me that really, really angry look. I'm suddenly trying to calm him down, apologize, while anxiously looking to see if his eyes are blackening, as that happened to me once.
His nose was sore that night, but now he's fine. This does not preclude me from tickling him in the future, by the way. Probably won't even keep me from tickling him tonight.
Posted by G at 10:46 PM | Comments (14) | TrackBack
December 20, 2006
Jealous
Stuck on the subway tonight, bad evening of lost keys, fruitless search for work 'secret santa' gift, trapped with a million other people, standing room only. Hell.
I watched a baby in a pram, blissfully sleeping.
I wish I had been a baby in NYC, rocked to sleep by the subway, lulled by the DC motors, woken to the view of skyscrapers, fed a bowl of Times crossword puzzles.
I wish I had been a kid, surrounded by world class museums, libraries larger than our football stadium, and $2 transportation to neighborhoods created from other countries.
I wish I had been some young hipster, unconscious of my own nerdiness and alienation, not realizing I was on a blue island in a red sea.
Of course, I would have no idea what stars look like, I would never have learned to drive, and I would not be a mechanic/carpenter god.
How would I be different? How much of me would still be the same?
Posted by G at 11:13 PM | Comments (13) | TrackBack
December 18, 2006
Sacridelicious
I was at a bar with supersweet Stephen and our respective boyfriends recently. Stephen introduced me to a friend of his, we started chatting, and the topic drifted to bacon.
My conversations often drift to the topic of bacon. Not this Bacon or this Bacon, but, in my opinion, still a capitalized Bacon.
Face it. Bacon is the best thing in the whole wide world. Nothing is better than bacon in a sandwich. I love bacon in BLT's, in a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, bacon-wrapped roasted jalapenos, or for the ultimate cholesterol bonanza, a bacon grilled cheese sandwich. If my heart weren't stopping from the cholesterol, it would stop for pure tasty joy.
Bacon is the gateway drug for vegetarians, as it is really the ONLY thing they can't simulate with tofu. They can make a facsimile with crispiness, tinted streaks of meat and fat, and almost the taste, but in the end, we meatatarians know we are eating something made of vegetables. Sadly, so do the vegetarians, as they cry sadly into their cruelty-free meals.
Aside from breaking Moses' first commandment, which mathematically is only ten percent, I've decided that it is time to create a church that worships bacon. Ignoring all the sweet tax breaks, a bacon church would be a really awesome place to worship. We'd have bacon socials, give bacon to the poor, and instead of Christmas, we'd have Crispmas. Instead of annoying Jehovah's Witnesses banging on your door on your only free day, we'd be luring people out their doors with that wonderful smell. On the down side, the bacon grease baptism could be something that would separate the casual from the truly faithful.
Sadly, my future church has already experienced a schism. I started praising super crispy bacon to this guy, and he told me that he likes it kinda soft and greasy from the skillet. Other bar people were a bit shocked as I instantly martyred him with a beer stein (beer would be part of the Baconite sacrament, as I will pull a Joseph Smith with the rules), but as many people in many religions have decided, extremism is in the eye of the beholder.
The way of the Bacon is Crispy. Praise the Crispy. Selah.
Posted by G at 06:37 PM | Comments (20) | TrackBack
December 14, 2006
Member of the family
Whenever I used to date other people, there was always that moment when I met their parents and family. For better or worse, I'm that guy that always gets to meet the parents. That meeting is always interesting, as you can see what your date will look like in 30 years, plus you'll see where their weird streams flow from full-on crazy rivers. Nothing like the dinner where I was complimented by the mother as being so nice, so why was I dating a whore like her daughter (I was dating her daughter because her daughter was a bit wild, by the way, so it was an interesting dinner).
Of course Derrick took me to see his family. Like I said, I ALWAYS get to meet the families early on in relationships. I got to see what he'll look like in 30 years (still cute, full head of dark hair), plus where much of his weirdness comes from (it's all from being Canadian, by the way). He gets his laugh, his seriousness, and his talk from his mother, his levity from his dad, and his love of books from the horrifying Canadian winters.
The same thing hasn't quite happened in reverse. Yes, I've exposed him to certain elements- my sisters, my mom's family. He now knows where I get my fear of clowns, my love of teaching/learning, and why children slipping off of roofs can be funny. He doesn't know where my car mechanic skills come from, why I mutter 'John Wayne' repeatedly if I think I might cry, or where the baldness and chicken legs come from. He hasn't met that side of the family, as that side of the family really wouldn't want to meet him. He hasn't met my very nice dad and stepmom because of that side of the family.
I was thinking about this as he and I were at NYC City Hall Tuesday afternoon. We were surrounded by mixes of couples. Some were in tuxedos and dresses, some were dressed in regular clothes like us. As we both signed our names to the domestic partnership, I realized that he's now a part of my family, and I'm a part of his. Sometimes I think he should have waited until he got to meet ALL of my family before he joined them, but like I said, all Canadians are crazy in special ways. I guess that's why I love him.
Posted by G at 07:03 PM | Comments (26) | TrackBack
December 12, 2006
Holiday travel
Did I mention that Derrick and I are heading to Chicago for Christmas? I didn't? Did I?
Where am I right now? Where's my coffee?
Posted by G at 07:41 AM | Comments (7) | TrackBack
December 06, 2006
Guesting
My Texan sister and her husband visited me over the weekend. They really are ideal visitors, as they are very low maintenance and make their own entertainment. They were great guests. How can you be a great guest in NYC?
1. There are many options. Many, many options. We live here, so when we give you ten choices, you must pick some. If you say "whatever," you MUST NEVER express unhappiness if we pick one for you. Even better, tell us what you want to do, and we'll tell you which ones we're willing to join. We don't go to Times Square, the tree in Rockefeller Center, or parades. We're New Yorkers, not crazy.
2. Never say "whatever" in NYC. We have EVERYTHING. Bonnie wanted to buy a special stamp for Christmas cards, so Derrick found her a store that just sells stamps and even had classes to show you how to make Christmas cards. If you want giant sculpture, we have it. If you want a dominatrix with poodles, we not only have it in NYC, I know her. I don't like the poodles, but she's very nice.
3. You're in NYC. Go out. If you want a vacation where you do nothing, go to a beach. This is NYC! No sleep for you.
4. We have to sleep. Unfortunately, we can't go out with you every night. We love you as a guest, especially when you can go out on your own and not make us feel guilty for having jobs.
That's about it, at least for me. Anyone else have some good rules?
Posted by G at 07:17 AM | Comments (16) | TrackBack
December 01, 2006
I'm Kyra Sedgwick
Thank you so much, David Soul... I mean, Jim. I needed to know these things while eating oatmeal in the morning.
I have been mistaken for Jason Lee tons of times, and I would love to be Kyra Sedgwick, except for the sex with Kevin Bacon. Nice, but not my type.
Posted by G at 07:59 AM | Comments (12) | TrackBack