This weekend was quite odd… In several ways. First, O. and I took his crush from the mysterious activity several months back to go see ‘The Full Monty’ at the Bartell Theatre. This, after I cooked a lovely dinner of sautéed salmon served on a bed of wilted greens with roast potatoes, all of which was doused with a bit of the cooking juices and balsamic vinegar. Next time, slightly more balsamic vinegar will be used to do the trick. The show was OK. We saw plenty of people that we’d slept with in the distant past, which was a little sketchy. We also, afterwards, went back to Crush’s place, and attempted to seduce him by mutual agreement. It didn’t quite work. Hopefully, we haven’t ruined the friendship completely, especially considering that Bulgaria’s BF now lives with Crush. Meh. Either way, it was 4 AM by the time we got back to my place, and collapsed into bed.
Saturday morning, it took me forever to get ahold of BakedAlaska, just to find out that he wasn’t going to be making it to the weekly dungeon crawl, as QuakerNoOats (his wife,) was very ill, and so he had to take care of their adorable rugrat, EvilGenius. Since one other guy was already missing, this meant role playing was cancelled, so I just used the excuse that I was “going back to bed” with Dungeon Master, as a board-game day didn’t sound like fun to me, at all. O. and I kicked around after an excellent breakfast of free-range eggs, eventually having some really great flip-flop action that left us both breathless and sticky. We then headed back downtown and hit the Monroe St. festival (an annual sale-extravaganza on one of the main shop-drags near campus), getting back to O.’s before three so he could nap before working until midnight. While he was gone, I watched ‘In Bruges,’ which is possibly the yuckiest film I’ve seen in a while. I like violence in cinema when it is 1) obviously legendary in scope and/or nature, and 2) When there’s a decent point. Think ‘Kill Bill,’ and you’ve got the kind of wacky b.s.-type violence I like in my movies… Utterly removed from reality. ‘In Bruges,’ on the other hand, was full of pointless, music-starved, gritty blood-spattered scenes featuring firearms ueber-alles… Unforgivable and just plain gross, not to mention depressing. Orpheus drove us back to my place, and we crashed.
Sunday was a sleep-late day. There was very little to say about it except that O. picked a recipe from my Spanish cookbook to try for dinner (beer-based beef pot-roast, essentially), we went to the Mall and to see ‘Hamlet 2,’ and had more mind-blowing sex. Dinner wasn’t that good. I have no idea what to make for dinner tonight, and work has me wanting to put a bullet in my brain-pan. Le-sigh!
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