And... I've arrived

I took a moment the other day and realized that I have 11 unfinished blog posts that I started to write up over the past few months. For whatever reason, I apparently have been unable to get the words to come out in a way that I felt was... pleasant. Humorous. Honest. Wait a minute. Since when was honesty a required aspect to my postings here?

Anyway, I have arrived in London. After many delays due to bureaucratic issues I was granted entry to the UK and have started to settle in to my new home. Starting, being the operative word. My new home is a 12'x12' sparsely furnished room with a bed that would make a tenant in a correctional institution toss and turn. I have a few linens, the means to store some clothes, implements for personal hygiene, and the ability to feed myself. So, all in all, I'm doing alright.

It's also been raining constantly. Now, of course I expected this. I've been to London before and I spent most of last Fall and Winter watching the weather in London so I'd know what I was up for. I also knew that this is the biggest area of concern for me. Rain. Lack of sun. For months.

The city is still a new and interesting place for me to explore, which I have been doing to some degree. I'm trying to walk most places and the streets are a little less than easy to learn. I went running the other day. I intended to run for about 40-45 minutes. A little over 80 minutes later I got home after asking three different people for directions. I will say, however, that jogging past Buckingham Palace is kinda cool. I'm looking forward to my next run around Parliament and Westminster Abbey.

The course has started and I'm happy to be here. I'm scared as fuck to be here. I'm feeling the pangs of lonliness about being here. I'm feeling the pressure of being here. A night has yet to pass where I do not cry at some point in my preparations for sleep. I mourn the loss of my comfy life back home. I mourn the absence of so many friends. I doubt my ability to complete and accomplish this goal. I mourn the distance from and worry about a loved-one.

But in the end, I'm in London. I'M IN LONDON!!!! And that in and of itself fills me with pride and energy.

Sorry about the somber energy of this post. As I branch out more in the city I'm sure more craziness and shenanigans will ensue. They always do.

Random wandering around Austin

Just a few pics from a recent bike ride around Austin...

Don't ask me who I was channeling this past weekend.

This past weekend was Austin Pride. Saturday was, to put it simply, quite an interesting day. It started off bright and early for the Austin Pride Run 5k, complete with costume contest. Yes, I wore a costume. No, I will not post a picture of it here. I'll just say that the theme was "On the Beach" and I may or may not have been channeling Bo Derek. You can likely take it from there.

The rest of the day I tooled around on my bike around town, spending time with friends (some of which was poolside), and generally enjoyed an ungodly hot day. Perhaps it was the heat of the day that ultimately did me in regarding being able to handle the masses of Saturday night. Perhaps it was the heat that made them go all crazy. Perhaps it was just a combination that should never have happened. Like brown shoes with a black belt. Or capers and fruit pie. Or Dorothy Zbornack and anything backless.

So the gay bars were crazy mad busy. Many of my friends were out and about so I was enjoying hanging and drinking and chatting and dancing. Dancing shirtless. As one does. (Hey, if you got it...) At one point a big mob of amateur thugs wonderful people came walking up the stairs of the club where I was. Apparently someone said something about someone's mom or whatever and there were some fiery Latinas getting ready to "pop off" or something equally annoying. And the group seemed to be rushing through the club like a bunch of whirling dervishes, running into people, knocking people over, etc. I saw the train wreck coming and skirted outside to the balcony to get some fresh (albeit muggy) air and get away from everything for a moment.

As soon as I stepped outside and sat down an older gentleman walked directly up to me, stuck out his hand in greeting and said, "My name is XXXX (I can't remember), I am from Caracas. That is in Venezuela." He kept holding onto my hand. "Yeah, I know where Caracas is, I'm not an idiot," I replied. Without missing a beat he said, "You are very pretty. You're eyes are like fire." He kept holding onto my hand. Looking him dead in the eye I said, "Wow, that's nice. Can I have my hand back?"

Bitch, party of one? Yeah, I'm not sure who I was channeling at that moment.

No sooner did smooth operator walk away when some little twink boy walked right up to me, sat down next to me and asked for a cigarette. (Yeah, I was smoking. It just seemed like the appropriate thing to do at the time.) He had to be all of 22 years old, all bright-eyed and smiley. I gave him a cigarette. He put his hand on my leg and asked for a light. I lit his cigarette. He did some sort of smile, a shoulder lift, and what I can only describe as a mimic of a hair flip. I looked at him. I looked at what I assumed to be a friend of his closing in on us. I grabbed my drink and just walk away.

Mega-bitch, party of one? At this point I must have been channeling Shannon Doherty.

I went downstairs, found my friends, and decided it was time to call it a night. I walked outside to a massive throng of people walking up and down the sidewalk. And I gotta say, none of them looked all that happy. For Pride Weekend, people sure didn't seem all that proud or happy. I'm thinking it must have been the heat. I mean, I don't normally go from zero to bitch in 3.4 seconds.

I quickly got to my car and made my way home. I'm not sure I've been so happy to make it home alone on a Saturday night in quite a long time.

Well that was unexpected

So, there's this boy. He's tall. He's cute. He's funny, if a bit quiet. In fact, in the one-plus years I've known him, the total time we've actually had a conversation is prolly less than one work week. He's just this guy that is around. We see one another. We smile. Perhaps we make eyes at each other. I'm not sure.

Well, Saturday night was a bit of a throw-down dance off between me and a couple of friends. Suddenly this boy is next to me on the dance floor. We make eyes. We smile. We chat. At some point we exit the dance floor to cool off. In this particular club there is a wonderful spot overlooking the dance floor underneath an A/C vent, which is a just heaven on Earth after being on a crowded dance floor. We make our way there and chat some more.

Now, I may or may not have been a little inebriated at this point in the evening, so what we chatted about is a little less than clear to me at this point. I do know that at one point we kissed in a, "Oh yeah, we're going home together tonight," kinda way.

At some point after 3a.m. when we left the dance floor for the last time we hopped into a cab and started to make our way back to my place. Now, I have to pause for a second to say that me taking anyone back to my place at the moment is a big deal. Why? Well, considering I'm currently processing through all of my worldly possessions for my impending move across the ocean, saying my house is a disaster area is like saying the devastation to Galveston Island after last year's hurricane just needed a little sweeping-up. Well, somehow he convinced me that I had a reason for my place to be a disaster area, whereas his place was equally atrocious but he had no reason for it and we made our way to my house.

Upon arrival there is some kissing. Some clothes are discarded. Smiles make their way across our faces. Good times were had by both of us.

As we cuddle up and begin to drift off he asks me, "So, what took us so long to have sex?"

"Ummm... I wasn't sure that you were interested," I reply. "You're stupid," he says as he pulls my arms around him closer. We slept without moving, waking in the exact positions we laid down in.

The next morning, smiles once again spread across our faces. He asks if we should hang out again. I agree. We exchange appropriate information. We've text'd back and forth a small amount this week. But once again, I can't tell that he's interested.

Trust me. I understand the "Oh, let's do this again sometime soon" thing that is just said and not meant. I will admit that I've done it myself. I'm perfectly fine with this being whatever it was. I'm also okay with this being something more than just a random. The degree that it's something more...? Oh, I dunno.

But for whatever reason, this boy has been on my mind this week.

Ummm... Thanks?

By now y'all should all be aware that, among many other classes, I teach a naked yoga class. This past weekend we held a naked yoga retreat out in the Texas Hill Country, which was glorious. Beautiful weather, for the most part. Great yoga sessions. Lots of fun activities. It was all rather nice.

Until...

I finished leading a practice session on Saturday evening about the Lotus flower as a metaphor for human existence, complete with poses associated with the elements and a visualization meditation at the end. As I was chatting with the students, a man that I had not met before made the comment, "That was a great class. It answered a question for me." Thinking that he was going to express how he had been struggling with something and was able to find some clarity due to the practice I inquired about what he had learned.

"I can see why your body is so well put together. Yoga is really helping you keep looking so good."

*blank stare*

Really? You're hitting on me after that? I talked about the challenges of the human condition and how we are able to rise above our defilements and the sufferings of life. I talked about not only connecting with the physical elements of our surroundings, but to seek inspiration to develop our spiritual awareness. And now you're hitting on me. I thanked him kindly and moved along.

The next morning at breakfast he again approached me and asked if I had ever done any modeling. Odd question, I thought, but I said that yes, I had done some swimsuit modeling in the past.

"Well, I'm a photographer in Houston. If you'd like, I could take some pictures of you. You can even stay with me, and I'll feed you and entertain you while you're in town."

Wow... If the first time had been a little odd, this was just downright creepy. "Uhhh, thanks. I'll keep that in mind if I'm ever down in Houston," I said and politely excused myself. Another teacher that was present for this exchange later told me that it was good the teacher's back was to me and creepy guy cuz the look on the teacher's face after creepy guy said this was just too much.

I'm surprised and impressed with myself that I was able to maintain composure. Is it sad that I'm getting used to dealing with older creepy guys making odd advances toward me?

But... where are their clothes?

Friday night, April 30. Two days before the anniversary of my birth. I arrive in Washington D.C. to engage in some raucous events to celebrate said anniversary. Well, I'm not sure we intended them to be raucous. I mean, I am a good Southern woman. I don't do such things.

Do you really believe that?

We started off at Eatonville, a FAB-ulous Southern-style restaurant that serves up some mean drinks and even better fried green tomatoes. Since my friends and I readily admit to be the lushes that we are, we sat at the bar where our bartender Lauren took care of us. Drinks, apps, shots, drinks, food, shots, drinks, drinks. People wandered off on their merry way. Lauren explained her philosophy of people that "ain't shit." People joined our group. More food, shots, drinks... I think you get the idea.

Once we were well sauced, we piled poured into cabs and went... well... to a strip club. A male strip club. A male strip club in Washington D.C. For those of you that may not know, in Washington D.C., the strippers wear, well... shoes and socks. That's it.

It was definitely something to behold. If anyone says that there aren't enough guys willing to dance around on top of a bar, waving their business around, then you need need to head to D.C. The place, while not huge, was fairly large and had quite a few guys dancing around, shaking their money-makers.

Having never, ever, ever done anything like this before ever in my life, I had a few questions. What was allowed in my interaction with the entertainers. What should I expect? Where do I put the tip?

As it turns out, it's all very easy. One can touch below the knee and above the waist. The entertainer will likely just wave his ooh-hooo in your face. Place any money one tips the entertainers in their socks. Well that's all very nice. And boring. And Puritanical.

Well, leave it to me to push the boundaries. But I totally didn't start it. At some point in the evening, after a drag show (yes, they had drag queen shows as well) I was upstairs, enjoying the scenery, and decided to show my admiration to one of the dancers. I went up to him, smiled, and looked up at him as he was dancing on top of the bar. He waved... something... at me. I smiled again. I attempted to place the dollar bill into his sock. I missed. I looked up at him and smiled again. He laughed at my drunkenness lack of coordination. On the second try, actually having to watch what I was trying to do, I successfully tipped him. To show his appreciation, he smacked me on my head with his penis.

I was taken aback. I looked up at him in amazement, his cock just dangling in front of me. I looked him in the face. I looked at his cock. I took my hand and smacked his cock like a cat smacks a play toy.

He tried to scold me gently, telling me that I'm not supposed to touch him there, but I guess the look of bewilderment that I had on my face was humorous. He just laughed and shook his finger... yeah, his finger... at me.

Hold, please.

So I just got back from a rather interesting trip to D.C. for some birthday shenanigans. I shall try to get some stories up soon, but first I gotta see if I can remember the weekend. Or if y'all are old enough to hear some of these stories. Or if I might get indicted for revealing some of the things that occurred.

And he's gone...

Theater Guy is now gone. After one week, the show is moving on to Denver, CO for a two-week engagement. I'd like to think I sent him off with a nice little "Thanks for visiting Texas!" farewell.

This past weekend was rather crazy busy. The Hill Country Ride for AIDS was this past Saturday, so getting all prepped and ready for that took some doing, and then there was, of course, actually riding the ride. So my time spent with Theater Guy was a little limited. I had hoped to get together with him on Saturday night, but after getting up at 5:00am on Saturday morning and riding 65 miles in the Texas Hill Country, I just didn't have the energy. So, after a massive amount of sleep on Saturday night and a nice yoga and pilates workshop on Sunday morning, we got together Sunday evening for a farewell... ummm... thingy.

As we walked into his hotel downtown I commented that it had been a while since I had been in that particular hotel. Immediately I felt a little weird for saying that. I mean, I had been in that hotel for very above-the-waist reasons. Seriously!! Well, okay. Let's face it. For some very below-the-waist reasons as well. He just laughed. It's always nice when two people really understand the interpersonal dynamics in which they find themselves.

And so we ultimately found ourselves at the end of our liaison. Which was fine. As a friend said to me as I was heading off to meet up with Theater Guy, "He's here for one week. You're leaving in less than four months. This is PER-fect."

True. Very, very true.

Well, that's... honest!

I have now gone out with Theater Guy a couple of times and we've had some very good times. He's cute. He's funny. He's witty. He laughs at my jokes. He's cute. You know, all the things I look for in a whirlwind kinda thing with a guy that's in a traveling theater company that's gonna leave town in a few days. I mean, don't you have your own list of criteria for just such an encounter? See... I thought so.

Our get togethers have been a little challenging as I work during the day, he's in rehearsal for a good portion of the day, and he has the show every night until late. Tonight we got together for dinner and a nice little wander around the UT campus, just kinda chatting and laughing. As we walked back to the theater for him to get ready for the evening show, he asked if I was interested in getting together after the show. "Hrmmmm... I could be. What'd you have in mind?" I asked.

"Well, to be honest, I was thinking it'd be cool to just hang low. Cuddle, watch a movie. Make out."

I cracked up laughing. Hysterically. "Yeah, I think we could make that happen."

Like I said... At least he's honest.

In the Heights

Last night I went to see In the Heights, a Broadway Across America production here in Austin for the week. The story explores three days in the characters' lives in the New York City Dominican-American neighborhood of Washington Heights. I wound up going as a guess of John Aielli, the morning DJ on our NPR station here in Austin, KUT, and I gotta say, he gets some great seats!

The show was fantastic. The musical numbers were riveting. The choreography was outstanding. The boys were... HOT!!!! I love shows set in New York City during the summer heat. The costumes worn by the boys were very appreciated. Oh, and the story was not bad, either. (I kid, I kid). The story was great. Everyone in my party except John Aielli cried when certain plot line came around. To be honest, however, John had already left the event after the first couple of numbers, leaving us, his guests, to enjoy the show. Did I mention we were in 10th row?

After the show wrapped, Ava Ghurl and I went over the Oilcan Harry's where they were hosting the cast party for In the Heights. We chatted with many members of the cast and crew throughout the evening, learning their stories, recent travels, how they liked Austin, etc. All the while trying to work my way into talking with the sexiest men on the cast. You know, just to get their views on Austin.

While during the play I had my eye on one guy that I had informed Ava Ghurl that I was hoping would do dirty things to me. Once I actually met him after the show, however, I thought he seemed a bit pretentious and... well... Yankee. Seriously? Wearing dark designer sunglasses in a dark bar at midnight? mmm-hrmmmm....

But, I did spend a good portion of the evening talking to a new addition to the traveling cast. He had been in the Broadway production and is venturing out for some time on the road. Today, we met up for dinner. I took him to get BBQ and Amy's Ice Cream - had to ensure he got those two experiences under his belt. Tomorrow, if we can make it work between his rehearsal and check-in for the night's performance, we may venture out to Barton Springs. I'm guessing that Barton Springs is something that he doesn't get to see very often in New York City.