Slipping dangerously...

I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m wickedly depressed, and that I’m wallowing down instead of reaching up for help. I’m attempting to spur Orpheus to action, and feel as if that’s getting nowhere. My job search, though I had an excellent interview yesterday, is languishing, and it becomes clearer and clearer every day that I won’t be here much longer. Desperation isn’t romantic, nor is it productive. Desperation drives stress, drives angst, drives disunity in body and mind. I’m going mad, I’m horny all the time but am too lazy for sex more than twice a week, and I find myself increasingly not cooking! Further, I am again entering a phase where I ignore important documents coming in through the mail, or, more disturbingly, forget that they came for a time. I’ve been here before, and it is, overall, NOT GOOD.

The drinking is mostly curbed after a horrifying weekend of being sauced with the ex-f-friend on Friday night, then sauced with O.’s work friends on Sunday. Last night, I made delicious chicken stuffed with bread crumbs, crushed pistachios, minced shallots, and raclette, seasoned lightly with paprika, and the whole wrapped in bacon. It tasted marvelous, especially when served with honeyed roast mashed potatoes, but I nearly lost it when, about half-way through the process of putting the wrapped breasts together, I tried to open my knife drawer and the drawer stuck. I ended up yelling at it, and repeatedly yanking it to the stick point so hard that a couple of the lighter knives jumped out of their slots in the wooden drawer-bloc. O. came into the kitchen to stop me, I was making such a fuss. Worse, I’m snapping at him all the time, and having creepy-ass mood swings. I want security. Is that so goddamn much to ask!?!

I’m tired. Tired of working for nothing, tired of being horribly dissatisfied with life because of my job, tired of just about everything. Tired as SHIT of not being able to work up the energy to clean my goddamned bedroom. What the fuck is the point, anyway? And anti-depressants will just make me fatter. Life is fucking cruel. About the only good things I have going right now are, of course, my Orpheus, and the show he just introduced me to… ‘Pushing Daisies’ is amazing, and a small spot of brightness in the fucking car wreck that is my existence.

Love Sucks…

This week has unequivocally blown donkey balls. Work gets worse every day, and Orpheus and I seem to be floundering. We had a very uncomfortable discussion online Wednesday, which ended with O. offering to make me feel better, but still really wishy-washy on what HE wanted, yet again. I, of course, spent the night with him even though it was supposed to be our night off, and nothing changed, despite his promise to do a couple things immediately (that never, incidentally, got done). Who knows… Maybe he completed his mission today. Either way, we’ve agreed that tonight is to be a night off, if only because a former f-bud of mine is in town to visit, and Orpheus really doesn’t like him. The one good thing about all this is that he trusts me to sit down with said former f-bud without taking off clothes, so that’s good, but I abhor taking weekend nights with O. as off-time…

After work, I have to rush home, quickly clean things up a little, and start making dinner… This for a guy who is in the hospitality business, and had an excellent culinary education. Hopefully, the wine I picked doesn’t suck, even if it is supposed to be a good pairing for a savory chicken pie. At least I know that dinner itself will be wonderful, but after this week, I have to say, I just hope I don’t make the filling I’m caramelizing into a savory marmalade of despair, a-la the pickle-making wife in Midnight’s Children. Then, it’s off to the bars. Blech. I don’t need any more alcohol, I think… Possibly ever.

Monday, I have an interview… At John Deere (no, I’m not kidding). Wish me luck. I think we’ll all need it. I wish you all luck, and hope you haven’t already lost your shirts and/or retirement funds, like my parents.

Viva la Monday!!!

This weekend was odd. Friday during the day was a waste of time and space and space-time overall, but when I got out of work it got better. I went to Orpheus’ place, and prepared for the arrival of Bulgaria’s BF’s roommate, who deigned to go to gallery night with us downtown. We had nothing to eat first, which kinda sucked, but there was a beautiful gallery we went to last which is a working space for the artists exhibiting as well as a sales floor. The talks we had with artists there were awesome! I’d love to go back with money (when I have some again) and buy a couple small pieces. Most of the galleries stank, though, which wasn’t terribly surprising. Corporate art/boring late-middle-aged guest room décor, throughout.

Afterwards, we took “Roommate” to Opus, which is worming its’ way back into my heart as a viable nightspot. Overall, it was a fairly tense night, as he had to work overtime all weekend, and Friday night was his only HIM-time, and given away, to boot. I don’t think O. will get his wish for a three-way. Wish I could say “more’s the pity,” but I’m really a bit relieved. Though R. is a wonderful guy who I’d love to have as a friend, I’m not terribly attracted to him physically.

Saturday started off with a bout of sickness in conjunction with the failure of my phone battery, putting me close to an hour late for roleplaying. I was forgiven, fortunately, without having to explain exactly the state that had made me late. Short session, but we leveled, even though our wizard died (first casualty!). I want to go back to D+D 3.5… Though 4.0 is easier to play, it’s easier overall to stick with an established product. I really dislike change, I find. The rest of Saturday was nearly ruined by O’s need to nap. It was a two-hour snooze-fest that left both of us feeling off. We did, eventually, shake it off, but my yuckiness early on left me feeling unable to bear up to a long-overdue session of the nasty. Though disappointing, we slept, and that was that. I slept very poorly, due to the shitty two-hour nap.

Sunday was packed with adventure! I made amazing chorizo eggs served on a bed of perfect breakfast potatoes, and sprinkled with fresh-grated Parmesano Romano. I then rolled up my sleeves, and built a beautiful Gallician Pie for lunch, which ended up being an indoor picnic at Orpheus’ place. Aphrodite was back in town this weekend, and she agreed to lunch cooked by me before she left town for the Twin Cities. It was very nice to see her, even if it was only for a little bit, and she lauded lunch, as per usual. Afterwards, O. needed another nap, which I stayed up through, and then we got together for drinks with his work friends, who I adore. After a couple hours there, we went back to his place, and got around eventually to some rooty-tooty, rompin’-stompin, good-time sex. Then I passed out.

Today, per par, sucks. Viva la Monday!!!

EvilGenius’ Evil Doctor’s Bag…

Last night was lovely. After I got home from a horribly punishing day at the office, Orpheus made me a nice heavy martini, and we just vegged out until QuakerNoOats called and asked us to show up around 6:30-7 PM. Apparently, EvilGenius was VERY excited about us coming to her birthday dinner, and even consented to put on underpants when it was made clear that she couldn’t have us over if she didn’t! We brought over some New Glarus tart raspberry ale, which compares well with a basic fruit lambic from Belgium, and some Strongbow Cider, as QNO’s mother loved Woodchuck when we were over on Saturday. I cooked the meat for fajitas, and cooked down the onion and peppers in a pan. There was a neat salad dressing that QNO made, and good corn torillas. Dinner was fun, but conversation and present time was better.

As I think I mentioned before, O. and I got EvilGenius a doctor’s kit for her birthday. She had gotten her flu shot that very morning at the doctor’s office, so I was a little uneasy regarding the reception of her gift, but she loved it. A lot. She even started walking around, giving everybody shots, and listening to their heartbeats. The best part, though, was when she hooked the little battery-operated pager that came with the kit over her training pants to make rounds… It was so cute I wanted to barf a little, inside my mouth. It was such a good night, my spirits lifted a lot. I needed it. This morning, I had a telephone roleplay that I nailed to the floor. It felt good, even if this place does suck rocks!

Tonight O. and I have off. I know it’s just my insecurity coming to bite me in the ass, but we haven’t been having nearly enough sex lately. He’s easing into his comfort zone regarding the thing he didn’t used to do willingly, but he’s not doing the opposite to me nearly as much anymore. Though, given how thorny I’ve been lately, I can’t say as I blame him. Hopefully, I can make a resolution to start fresh, and try to be more upbeat. I have to try. I don’t want to lose my guy!

Holy F-ing S...

The last few days have passed by in a semi-pleasant haze. Gaming on Saturday was plenty of fun, and I think that we’re finally getting our “sea legs” where D+D v4.0 is concerned. God knows I’ve started to kick ass and take names, although I’m the first to collapse in a given situation, too. Plus, the entire “you heal fully overnight” thing really sucks ascot. However, the game itself isn’t bad, though magic kinda sucks now. We’ll see how things work out, though. Magic may end up being cooler in the end of things, but I seriously doubt it.

After gaming, BakedAlaska invited Orpheus and I over to help celebrate the 2nd birthday of his daughter, EvilGenius. Really, though, we’re going over tonight, too, which is actually her birthday, so I think it was really all about keeping the adults sane. QuakerNoOats’ mother is in town. They are notorious for not getting along, though she is FAR more pleasant than QNO ever led me to believe, just rather, umm… Tightly wound. Really, though, if I had been the Mom in a house chock full of kids with overlapping but individual food allergies, I’d have gone nuts and murdered the whole lot in preparation for offing myself. SCM (SternCatholicMamma), however, did it all with just the slightest edge of mania, including taking on two foster kids. In any case, we helped to keep the peace and distract SCM from QNO (and vice-versa). We’re performing the same function tonight, but this time giving EvilGenius our birthday present, which is a fancy doctor’s kit for kids 2+. When he first saw it on Saturday, BakedAK commented that we aren’t ever allowed to buy a present for his daughter better than his, again.

I also bought Brsinger, the final book in the Eragon trilogy, on Saturday morning. I’ve been annoying the hell out of O. reading it every free second. It isn’t terribly well written, just like its’ predecessors in the series, but the story is more or less sound. I just want to be over with the tiresome structure and be done with the story.

Sunday was interesting, if a bit boring overall. I went to an instance of the concert series they run every school year at the Chazen museum, on campus at the University of Wisconsin. It was the staff string quartet performing two rather experimental works (at the time they were written, anyway), by Janacek and Ludwig Van… I liked the Jancek for one reason, that being that all rhythmic drive, and many first statements of theme were made by the viola. It was very odd and cool, kind of turning everything on its’ head for me throughout the piece. I like Janacek’s music when it sounds most modern and discordant, so I only loved about 10% of the quartet in toto, but it was neat. The Beethoven recycles discarded themes from then 9th Symphony, amongst others of Ludwig’s greatest hits, and is both overlong and overmeandering, with little to no point in the most “serious” third movement. Said movement, in fact, accounted for about half of this monster’s 45-minute run, flopping about like a dying peacock, stripped of its’ feathers. I kind of threw a bunch of shit into a pot with rice for dinner, and it ended up being quite good. Go figure!

Yesterday just sucked abjectly at work, and afterwards, Orpheus kept taunting me in that joking way he has that feels light and teasing to him, but just annoying and ill-will-begetting to me. We abandoned a speech were were to see at the University for a mall walk and a lovely dinner made with apples from our expedition to the Epplegarden a full week ago. I did a braised pork loin with apples and cranberries. It was delicious last night, but made even better leftovers for lunch today. Plus, O. downloaded some really kickin’ pornos, so you can tell how the rest of the night went. ;-)

Hire me. Please...

Anyone hiring in Madison, WI? I mean, anybody with taste and discretion, who needs a highly capable, fast-learning worker to fill just about any office role (hell, if you’re here, you’ve SEEN what I’ve been through physically, lately… NO MANUAL LABOR!!!), at over $18/hr, leave me a comment… In fact, somebody please leave me a comment, even if you’re not hiring, as nobody seems to read my blog. Ever. Or, if they do, they just laugh to themselves. Unless you’re really mean, I won’t repress your comment, I promise! ;-)

Gomeroke, hibernation, various points between...

So, last night was wicked fun. I didn’t think that the birthday party of, essentially, a new friend (who shall heretofore be known as RPGirl,) would be nearly that entertaining, especially given Orpheus’ general feelings of malaise over the last few days. When I got home from work, yesterday, he was still napping, and smelled like a barn, as mildly ill sleeping grown-ups tend to do. He was well-rested, however, and we watched a little TV while I made a snack of bacon and martinis. After that, he showered, and I got to pull my very special trick on him, which led to long-overdue (and wholly welcome), if not overtly spectacular, sex. We bundled up and drove downtown, on the way nabbing more lube, and eventually reached the Roman Candle, a pizza joint on the near-East side where the initial leg of the birthday celebration took place.

It was a good group, mostly grad students. Even though O. didn’t talk much, he did speak more than at most gatherings of people my age, which was encouraging. He declined to follow us to the High Noon Saloon, as he was feeling tired, so I dropped him off at his place, and continued on to Gomeroke (a band called the Gomers provides live backing for Karaoke). It was fuckin’ hot. I got a free drink ticket during the first set for my smokin’ rendition of ‘Sweet Transvestite,’ even inspiring the birthday girl (RPGirl,) to sing ‘Tainted Love’ in the process… And she’s never even done Karaoke once before! I had a great time. When I returned to Orpheus’ place, he was somewhat recovered, and happily popped in an episode of the Dame Edna Experience, which he’d been watching while I was at the bar. He’s so sweet and expectant when he shows me something that he knows I’ll like, and like it I did! It was uproariously funny, especially considering how old the episodes were.

We didn’t sleep terribly well last night, unfortunately not due to further sexual energy expenditures, but there was some very satisfying snuggling. It’s starting to get colder at night again, and that means awesome opportunities to snuggle whilst hibernating. Mmm… Actually, a three-month nap sounds pretty good right now…

Woo!

The past few days have gone by in a largely undifferentiated blur, except I find myself constantly worrying about money, picking on Orpheus, and being a generally nervous Nellie. I’m also horny as hell, all the damned time! At least unidentified lip thingie has gone away in less than a week… This makes it less likely (though not impossible) that it’s herpes, greatly lessening the pressure I’m feeling on that front. Work continues, as ever, to suck. And last night, despite a recipe not altered a whit from what appeared in the magazine, dinner sucked donkey rocks.

Fortunately, O. and I went on a Target-walk, got some booze, went back to my place and just relaxed. With my lip all better, I might even get laid tonight, before going to a new gaming friend’s less formal of two birthday soirées at a local pizza joint, to be followed by a session of Gomeroke, which I have never before experienced (but am, admittedly, quite excited about). Her birthday present will likely be dinner for herself and her boyfriend (a gaming friend of much longer acquaintance), cooked by me. It’ll be a challenge, as they’re both vegetarians, but will be nice. I like both of them, and really have to expand the number of people who I liked first with whom Orpheus will break bread willingly.

Anyway, there’s really nothing else for the time being, except that I get to go home tonight and snack on apples from the Epplegarten, and salt-n-vinegar potato chips from Target, and have martini with a touch of pomegranate Jones soda (which comes from a Dracula-head themed 8-oz. can), and possibly make the two-backed beast before pizza. And gomeroke. Woo… Tonight is looking better already!

Dirty, dirty Pirates...

In honor of International Pirate Day, or whatever it’s called, a poem… Well, it’s a Limerick, and that’s a kind of poem, so yeah…

There once was a cur from Nantucket,
Had a peg-leg so thick it filled buckets.
With a kiss and a grin,
All the fishwives gave in,
To unspeakable sins for a ducket.

All bow before the might of my filthy verse! YAR!!! Actually, it's kind of funny... The secretary in my department, who is totally AWESOME, dressed as the dread Pirate Anne Bonny, niece of Bluebeard, for the second year in a row. The bosses are treating her gingerly today. She loved the limerick, btw. Hope you do, too.

Manic much, yo?!?

Yesterday evening was far better than expected. Orpheus was very kind despite my post-work grumpiness, and we watched the first episode of ‘The Venture Brothers: Season 3’ while snuggling after I got home from work. It involved the origin story of The Monarch and his far superior partner in villainy, the gravel-voiced Dr. Girlfriend (who is the hottest cartoon walking-trannie joke EVER). I told him what the doctor said about my stupid lip, and he maintained cheerfulness, even giving me a little of the Chinese food he’d gotten for lunch down the street from my place as a tide-over snack to get me through the Philip Roth interview… Which, I found out on the way over, was a teleconference interview. He wasn’t at the bookstore at all. I just spent the entire time in Borders’ luxurious cookbook section, salivating over the expensive pretties, and silently deriding certain recipes and volumes heartily.

When O. was ready, after he’d gotten bored with the lengthy interview re: what Philip read about the Korean War to get himself ready for this project, we headed downstairs and eventually out. Now, Borders is close to one of my favorite liquor stores ever, Steve’s Liquor, this particular location of which also has a cheese case/delicatessen area. I ordered a pound of unsalted Amish butter, and got a handle of vodka for Orpheus’ place, then we went over to Noodles (a nice slow-fast food chain,) for dinner, as O. had a two for one coupon. I’d forgotten how much I like pesto, and it’s really easy to make, so… Voila! Dinner idea!!! After Noodles, we went back to O’s place, proceeded to get silly drunk, and watched ‘What’s Up, Tigerlilly?’, the Woody Allen dub based off a bad Japanese espionage-type movie. He manages to turn it into his own personal paean to yellow fever, unsurprisingly.

I had weird dreams all night long, ones I don’t fully remember. I slept remarkably well, considering. All I can really remember is that I need to call Leo. It’s been about a month since he disappeared to San Diego, and, being that I helped him learn to write like a liberal arts freako, I feel I deserve an update. Orpheus and I have tonight off, as I’m having the first big roomie night with Terra Firma in a long while. Wish me luck on that count! Here’s hoping I can get the boxes out of the damned livingroom.

Lippy...

Tonight, it’s off to Phillip Roth’s reading at the bookstore… with more mystery lip-thingies. I went to my doctor over lunch today, and he says that the sore doesn’t present like herpes, and since it’s so early, it’s very hard to tell. It hasn’t wept yet, and even if it had, he’s not sure that I’ve produced antibodies, so I might not test positive for anything. He says it’s highly unlikely to be any of the other usual suspects, either, but urges me to come back for testing if it keeps happening. Nice. So, no more sex for another week while my lip heals, then just wait for it to happen again (if ever) to get a chance to find out I have herpes, or maybe something worse. Yippie-ki-yi-yay. All I need now is to find out that Orpheus has had it all along and hadn’t gotten around to telling me, or that I picked it up from my dirty whore ex back when the stress wasn’t bad enough to force me to break out in hives.

I don’t have the energy to cook, tonight. I don’t know what the fuck we’re going to eat. Last night, I made Galician empanadas for O. and I, and they were bloody delicious. Next time, they’ll be even better, as I won’t make the mistake of estimating the time it will take the onions to turn into a carmelized goo. Also, I’ll properly fold over the crust-edge. Other than that, damn, was it delicious. I have a neat idea for a dual dish… I’d make a “Greek Turnover” using red onions, red and green peppers, cooking down as for the empanadas, then, instead of adding tomato, putting in the innards of a small roasted eggplant. After cooking down further, I’d spread it on the puff pastry (or phylo… Hmm…), and sprinkle with feta, serving with nicely grilled or olive-oil sautéed wine-marinated lamb. Or kabobs. Yummy!

Anyway, I’m not looking forward terribly much to the Phillip Roth. Mostly, I’m doing it for Orpheus, because he wants to see Roth give a reading and an interview. I could take or leave Roth. I kind of liked Operation: Shylock, but found it rather too pat, honestly. Good writing, though. I was far less than happy with Portnoy’s Complaint, and was so disgusted by the main character’s self-loathing I had to stop reading. Goodbye, Columbus I could take or leave, honestly. There’s just too much ugliness in Roth’s writing, and I don’t see the point of spending time on things so Operatically disgusting, building unpleasantness upon unpleasantness to a wholly noxious conclusion when life is already startlingly less than beautiful. I prefer my fiction not to eviscerate, as I’m reading for pleasure. For blood and violence, I go to the movies. It’s the kind of thing I don’t care to imagine myself. We’ll see what happens. I heard an interview of Mr. Roth on NPR a year or so ago that I found utterly charming, so who knows? Wish me luck…

Lots and lots and lots of the nasty

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!

d'oh!

Jesus. It’s been a busy week. Last night sucked rocks. I ate some delicious cheese burritos of my own concoction, however. I won’t tell you what was in them, except that it wasn’t spicy so much as it was cheesy, and wasn’t a burrito so much as it was several different cheeses with sour cream in a tortilla with a couple other ingredient x-es. Dairy delight. I also drank entirely too much… By myself… Meh. No more alcohol for awhile, maybe. I want my job to end. Now. I want to go home, and be rich, and retrain through further education for my real career. You know, the one that might have a chance of making me feel not like a ton of bricks at the end of the business day. Or, the one that makes me feel like a ton of contented bricks. I don’t care which, as long as I don’t feel like a ton-pile of shit anymore. On that note, had a really sleazy interview today, that was really nothing more than a vetting session. I have to go to the info session to find out what is really going on. It might still hold water, or I might walk out halfway through laughing. The interviewer said, “it takes a lot of a four-letter word to advance here… w-o-r-k!” I nearly laughed in her face. Work is good, but only if it has a point. We’ll see…

Wierd, wet weekend

Wow. It’s been a long weekend, and generally disagreeable by many standards, albeit very pleasant by others. Both Orpheus and I were exhausted on Friday, and didn’t do anything, really, but sleep. I made my curried apple cider braised pork chops, and served them over sautéed veggies (green beans, sliced carrots, celery, chopped banana pepper, garlic and ginger. O. did some laundry at my place. We watched “Company,” the Sondheim musical, on DVD from the library. The main character, Bobby, is hot. Saturday morning, I had to get O. back downtown to work, then, with great trepidation, went off to DungeonMaster’s new apartment for roleplaying. Dungeons and Dragons 4.0 isn’t a system I’m yet comfortable with… As we created characters, I became even less comfortable, but think that, after playing once, and nearly dying twice, I’m on the road to OK, now. My new character is Nathalion Ten’ethriil, an elven blade ranger who is a newly minted member of a secret society. Let’s just say that I think this will get interesting really fast, especially with a few new players in the mix. I’m already playing the mutual foil game with the new mage in the group. Our characters mix like oil and water. It should prove fun. Now, I just have to start the massive work of creating a back-story for the character. Which, given that I hardly know anything about the world (we’re playing in the Forgotten Realms), may prove difficult.

In any case, I really like DM’s new place! It’s a beautiful top-floor apartment in a three-floor house that was portioned out. He has a huge, beautiful kitchen with a dishwasher, and even in-unit washer and drier… These things are exceedingly uncommon in his neighborhood. I got the chance to chat up his girlfriend, which was a delight. I like her a little more every time we get to talk. She fits with him, well, I think, even if I don’t always approve of the way he jokes with her. That’s their affair, after everything, anyway, and some joking is private joking, even when public. I look forward to visiting them in their home more in the future, at least, which is a great boon in RPGing… To be comfortable in the environment is key.

Saturday night, Orpheus and I had some super-fun non-penetrative sex, followed up early Sunday afternoon with some wild penetration. With Terra Firma’s blessing, we had decided to invite Bulgaria’s BF over, as well as O’s crush, to dinner. We spent a good deal of the afternoon cleaning, and I cooked for about two hours total to make a simple but multi-course meal. We started with bruschetta, then had the same delicious Martha Stewart pasta salad as I made for O’s birthday, then American potatoes with my executive kibbeh burgers. Finally, O. made some scones, which we served with whipped cream, and sliced strawberries in honey w/vodka, salt and a touch of pepper. The vodka was just a dribble… Enough to volatilize the flavors. It was delicious. I think BF is doing OK, considering. He had a three hour chat with Bulgaria on IM before he came over, and things seem good for the time being. Let’s hope that they stay that way.

This weekend, O. and I will probably attend a production of “The Full Monte” on Basso’s recommendation, with Crush (Bulgaria’s BF’s roomie, Orpheus’ crush,) in tow. I think I’ve made it clear to O. that I don’t really want to pursue a threeway with Crush, and also that C. has never HAD a threeway, anyway. I got this little tidbit of info at Bulgaria’s going away party, when everyone was a couple drinks in and it was safe to fish for information without seeming an ass. My poor boyfriend seems to be taking the news fairly well, and we both enjoy hanging out with C., so I think we’ve added another gay friend without benefits to our network (thank god). I don’t necessarily want two friends with benefits to know each other well, as Crush was good friends with Basso well before either O. or I knew him from Adam. That would probably be kinda creepy.

Autumn? Really?...

It’s fall. Suddenly, after over a month of hot, dry weather where rain came a drop at a time, once every other week, the sky broke. Yesterday was an eternity of grey skies, cold weather, and water falling from the sky steadily, at a medium pace. Something shattered in the air, and summer evaporated like a long, sad dream. My mood matched my mien matched my energy matched the sky. My best friend gone, a mediocre sales day at best, too tired to feel excited even about my impending trip to see Chris Thile and the Punch Brothers, I was very pleased when I finally got to Orpheus’ place. He offered to use his discount at a local restaurant chain associated with his place of work before the concert.…

I understand that this sounds kind of sketchy, but it’s the kind of chain that’s run by restaurateurs, and no two of the places has the same menu, or even price points. What they share is management, buying power, and a commitment to higher-class kitchen technique, local produce sourcing when possible, etc… I had a lovely open-faced breakfast sandwich. It was an English muffin bearing up butter-sautéed “Mediterranean” veggies (tomato, caper, artichoke, olive, onion, etc.), in turn shouldering beautifully poached eggs. This whole was served with a side of Mornay sauce, though I have never heard of a mornay with mustard added. Despite said heresy, however, it was delicious, and the copious amounts of coffee I consumed alongside dinner did help immensely with my little problem re: wakefulness. However, the kitchen was so fast, that we felt like no sooner had we warmed our seats than we were back out on the street, cold and wet, and still waiting for the theatre to open up the street about a block.

We took a walk, and got back about the time the doors opened. The crowd was very small, probably because the Punch Brothers have a very odd following for a band as modish as they happen to be. It’s half ancient bluegrass hippie-types, and half hipsters that tend to make it out to see Thile in his scarecrow-like glory. And no self-respecting hipster is going to show up on time to a concert, as that would be too too, if you get my drift. Also, one benefits from not hearing the caterwauling of what is usually already a local scene band for acts of this size. Unfortunately, this meant the show started with a depressingly empty theatre, and as there was no opening act, little energy. However, the Punch Brothers being as talented as they are, drew from some deep well in themselves, and really pulled out a great show. This was helped when the younger, rowdier, more standing-capable trustafarians in glowing cashmere and filthy denim showed up and began giving some energy back to the band.

Now, if you haven’t heard the Punch Brothers, think Nickel Creek, but purer, closer to the Thile bluegrass ideal, albeit quite modern. Think brilliant arpeggios, deft single-line melody, stunning rhythmic reversals at the end of phrases, and perfect balance between instrumental elements. It’s a string band, and the closest they get to percussion is a standing bass, but are vibrantly rhythmic nonetheless. Also, think mind-numbing, Enlightenment/Baroque/Clockwork/French cooking-style precision laced through it all. Plus, the violinist is a really hot bearded guy stuck in the attractive place between otter and bear, who occasionally throws in gratuitous little pelvic thrusts while playing. O. and I find him utterly au charmant (sp?). I didn’t get to the concert anything but full and sleepy, but by the end, I was energized. We took a walk, as it had cleared up and cooled down a little, then watched some third season Drawn Together before going to bed. Unfortunately, by the time Orpheus decided he wanted to spelunk in my underworld, I was too far gone, and had to refuse, which sucks… He rarely initiates sex. But I think that falling asleep while my lover was inside me would’ve been more traumatic than a simple refusal of services in the first place.

Tonight, we may go dancing. It’s been awhile. Fortunately, we first have a date to nap through rush-hour at his place. The season is changing, I start roleplaying in D+D’s new 4.0 edition tomorrow, for the first time in Madison without Bulgaria as a companion. But it’s cooler and more pleasant, and I’ll see him again. Change is just change, and I’m damn near permanent… At least, relatively… Fuck.

I’ve Said Goodbye

Being an adult sucks. When I was younger, I was never the type to make friends easily. This problem lessened as I aged, gained a modicum of experience in personal interactions, and generally loosened up between the ages of 16 and 22. These days, though, I’m working at a very demanding job, have a wonderful relationship and excellent links to good friends, but my best friends keep dropping on me! It’s tough to meet new people now, and maybe one in ten work friends can realistically make the transition to real ones. Worse, the day has finally come… Bulgaria is hopping on a plane as of Friday, and I had my last get-together with him yesterday evening. His BF’s car is having transmission trouble, and worse, since B. hasn’t been able to work legally in some time, his man’s been working several jobs to make ends meet, pay for the plane ticket, etc… Even get him a cheap laptop so that they can do video chat. I picked them up at BF’s new place, and took ‘em to Target so that Bulgaria could get some last-minute packing implements. Then, we went over to the grocery store, and I got the ingredients for a simple, fast meal. I didn’t let them help to cook, but it was done in 30 min. flat, anyway. BF’s new roomie is the guy Orpheus has a crush on from his mysterious activity of a few months ago, and he’s a good sort. I fed him, too. We all tried to be optimistic while watching the RNC. We drank too much. I had a good time, despite the finality of it all. I hated hugging B. goodbye. I nearly cried. And now, it’s over.

The friendship will go on, but it’s never the same without face-to-face interaction. With a busy day in front of me today, all I can do is mourn. That’s no good. Tonight, O. and I are headed to a Punch Brothers concert, featuring good ‘ol Chris Thile. This was part of Orpheus’ birthday present, and should prove a good distraction. I just want to find the hollow between his arms and sleep for awhile, though, which isn’t any good when it comes to concert going. A pox on all assholes who don’t support gay marriage!!! If it were legal, there’d be no problems. Bulgaria and BF would’ve gotten hitched, Bulgaria would be happily working, and the two of them wouldn’t be overtired and anxious.

Holy Top Chef, Batman!!!

Wow. Yesterday was really fun, but started out rather embarrassingly. See, I forgot that I took a day off at work. I knew Top Chef was coming to Madison, but figured that since Orpheus and I had not been successful in getting online tickets, we were not going to get into the show. Apparently, however, I asked for the time off before tickets became available. So, I came in, and thirty minutes into a day I was sure would be one of the hardest I’d ever done, my supervisor comes up and says,

“So, Aeffchen, why are you here today? Come over to my computer… See? It looks like you have today off.” I played it cool, asked to go upstairs and call around…. Cleared spending the day together with O… And then, got the hell out. Once I reached O’s place, we quickly decided to hit Gotham for bagel sandwiches for breakfast, and signed up for overflow seating beside the Top Chef trailer on MLK St. just off the Capital Square. We didn’t get into the first show, and then had to walk all the way back to Orpheus’ place, and move my car… We went back, wandered around the small Wednesday Farmers’ Market taking place on the drive leading up to Monona Terrace (the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed, but not FLW-executed, disaster of a convention center on Lake Monona), and didn’t get into the second show, either… So we went back to O’s place after moving my car, then tromped back out for the third show. After a great deal of finger-crossing and nail-biting, my name was called from the overflow list, and Orpheus and I mounted the steps into the mysterious Top Chef Tour trailer… And climbed into a very comfortably air-conditioned, miniscule hall with 40 production chair set up so the audience could see what the two presenters were making inside the tiniest kitchen area I’ve ever seen.

The celeb chefs we saw yesterday were Dale and Stephanie, from the third and fourth seasons of Top Chef, respectively. Dale, of course, is a sexual interest for both O. and myself, and, as he entered the kitchen, Orpheus undid a gratuitous couple of buttons on his shirt… I never liked Stephanie much on the show, but in person, she’s pretty cool. They had worked together before Top Chef, and are both Chicago-based chefs, so it was really neat to hear their kitchen banter while they cooked. Nothing terribly juicy came out, but apparently Hung was a smug chump in real life, too, though they did say he wasn’t nearly as asinine as the production team made him out to be. Really, most of the time, they were just talking about how they didn’t know their own schedule for the next day while filming, and how less than 2% of what was filmed ever made it on-screen. The camera crews were with them until the last person went to sleep every night. How horrible! Oh, yeah… And they totally had no-sex clauses in their contracts.

The neat little tomato/fruit salad with half-homemade ravioli (made with wonton wrappers, as they didn’t have enough room for a pasta machine) and shaved goat cheese in a balsamic vinaigrette was quite good, especially considering that they were chatting it up and taking questions the entire time they were cooking. Afterwards, we hung out in line, and got autographed photos for free of both of them. Orpheus asked Dale to sign his chest, which Dale, prudently, I think, refused to do in public with so many kids around. Stephanie signed O’s photo “Orpheus, I TOTALLY would’ve signed your chest!!! Love, Stephanie” It was really cool. Plus, pretty early in the day, O. had found a wad of cash on the street corner with over $60. I felt a little bad about it, but we drank pretty damned well, yesterday, so all wasn’t lost. Plus, we went out to dinner at my favorite bar/restaurant, and had my fav. pulled pork sandwich in town. Yay, Nottspil!!! Unfortunately, our order was f@#$ed up by the waitress the first time, and they rushed our order for the correct sandwiches through the kitchen… Mine was perfect, but O’s gave him indigestion as it was swimming with pork fat. They usually press the meat to drive out as much of the grease as possible.

When it got time for him to live-blog the DNC last night, Orpheus kicked me out of his apartment. I wandered up to the square AGAIN, and read at the Torando Room for a bit. O. got me a book called World War Z: An Oral history of the Zombie War at the library, yesterday. It has me super-excited, and I even got hit on (I think) by the world’s hottest over-forty bartender because of the book. He engaged me in a smoldering discussion of zombie cinema. It was nice. Oh, and Orpheus and I actually managed to have some short-winded but much needed buttsex yesterday, thank God. It was, all told, a pretty awesome day.

Hooks Set... Ready, Set, ANNOY!!!

Last night was pretty interesting, if a touch miffy on my part. Orpheus live-blogged the Democratic National Convention. Rather, I should say, he live-blogged the annoyingly Olympic COMMENTARY thereof. I found it freakishly annoying to be hearing brain-dead reporters, still tired from Chinese jet-lag, pulling the least relevant shit out of their asses while you could hear good speeches going on in the background. Note to NBC: If you’re going to televise a convention, TELEVISE THE CONVENTION!!! I don’t want to hear your hack, idiot, jet-lagged journalism monkeys squawking over the floor show, no matter how distinguished their educational pedigree. But all that didn’t happen until later in the night. Let’s back up together…

I headed downtown following work, and braved a particularly idiot-laced road-riot of a driving situation before parking suspiciously easily near O’s place. Upon picking up the keys, I force-fed myself at Orpheus’ apartment, as Chemie and her two really cool Indian (like the Asian sub-continent,) roommates had gotten a cable modem, but couldn’t get their wireless network operational. So, after finally getting her computer to somewhere approaching copasetic on Saturday, I headed over after O. returned, and set up the ‘net for them while Orpheus listened to all the most annoying music channels on digital cable and they all danced around the apartment, making far too much noise for my taste and level of necessary concentration. The network is now set up, and other than a rancidly stupid password, as secure as it could possibly be given the girls’ inability to ‘fix’ any technical ‘problems’ that could occur were the network any more secure (like my brother-in-laws… He has it set up to only work for their computers, and is just lazy enough that, when you ask him to set your computer up, too, he’ll just say “I’ll do it later, please use my computer in the office for now!” Needless to say, he never does).

So, we finally leave there about an hour and a half later, and despite my sense of accomplishment, O. is EXTREMELY hungry, and dinner will take at least forty minutes to put on the table. It doesn’t help that he’s excited about live-blogging the DNC, and is spending all our travel time inside his head reflecting on the kinds of cutting witticisms he’ll employ to degrade both me and those unlucky enough to be speaking, later… I’d have been in a better mood had he paid some attention to me on the car-ride home. Then, we get back, I start cooking apple cider-curry-braised pork chops, and O. starts typing away, clickety-clack. I’m forced to spend yet more time listening to things I don’t particularly want to listen to while doing something that, while I take pride in my cooking, was a rather half-hearted task, given the late hour. This is when I started getting horribly annoyed with the networks for putting on commentary. If I’m going to be forced to listen to empty promises of schlock to come anyway, I’d rather be treated to good oratory. Senator Kennedy’s speech was glorious, for instance… Then they spent the next thirty minutes picking it apart half-heartedly, whilest I browned boneless chops, cooked down onions, added a wonderful curry powder, deglazed with vermouth, and began cooking down the cider. Fortunately, this a sweet dish, so my bitterness didn’t come out in the sauce.

This kept going, through dinner even, with Orpheus mostly ignoring me, even when I told him point-blank my meal had better be more important to his hungry butt than the pathetic interview then going on with Carolyn Kennedy, moderated by interrupt-ey, tired anchor-monkeys. After dinner, he wouldn’t stop blogging to help with dishes, and thus, to keep myself from being really nasty and saying something I’d regret, I did the damned dishes myself. Michelle Obama’s speech was pretty good, though it started out with the most disingenuous crap about her “faith” I’ve ever heard. I don’t want to hear about her faith. I don’t go to Baptist churches for a reason, and wish my Grandmother would STFU regarding God when I visited. Mrs. Obama’s relationship to some possible higher being is none of my never-mind… Conversely, my faith is mine, and anybody who tries to talk to me about it, unless they are very respectful, and very careful, will get a ridiculously profane earful.

Also, putting up Hillary as the first person she mentions as a shatterer of glass ceilings might’ve been more effective if the expression on her face hadn’t been so pinched as she said it, or if she’d apologized for the really incendiary comments she’s made in the past regarding Frau Clinton. I, like many others, am forced into the distasteful situation of supporting Barack, a candidate who I do not believe is ready for the Presidency, because of Hillary’s ouster from the bosom of her party. With ill-defined “change” promised after little substantive explanation of the mechanisms thereof, I’m precious little closer to waving an Obama flag now than I was a month ago, when it became clear it was all over. The least his wife could’ve done was wipe the stigmas she’s painted onto his campaign clear in her otherwise solid speech, and dispense with the fucking faith-crap. She’s a high-powered bitch with a law degree. She doesn’t any more believe in a caring creator than I do, and it sticks in my craw to hear her say what she said. Barack better bring it later this week’s all I’ve got to say.

The worst part of last night was after Orpheus and I had gone to bed. He said something that was really snippy when I asked if I could read the post. Instead of kicking his ass out of bed, I demanded my pillow while stealing a blanket, and informing him I’d be sleeping on the couch… It was my place. I felt irritated, powerless, and used. Fortunately for him, he showed appropriate flags at that point, rubbed my back, and got me chocolate. The shit he said about me was more or less balanced, despite being hopelessly tow-headed… Fucking English majors don’t understand politics any better than Southern Baptists. We had a nice session of mutual masturbation, and I got a wonderful night’s sleep. He’s still at my place, and after a phone call over lunch, aware that I’m still residually pissed about yesterday. It’s funny how I can be mad at him, but still feel a little sad that we’re not able to meet for lunch, or take a walk together or some such. Love sucks as wonderful journeys go, but it can be a lot of fun in addition to being a lot of work. Too bad about last night, but we’ll see about the next ten years…

Randomly woven thread

This weekend sucked rocks. Well, not really, but it wasn’t terribly interesting, either. I developed the weirdest sore on my lip, which I was assured by my doctor wasn’t an STD (post-testing), but he’ll be damned if he has any idea what it actually is, either. There’s another culture that should be coming in, soon… Thrush, maybe? That’s what I get for falling asleep without brushing my teeth after drinking wine or beer one too many times. I’m getting hits left and right for my new resume, but most of the jobs aren’t the type that I have any interest in, whatsoever. Orpheus hopes fervently that I’ll get a good call regarding a new job, as I’ve been rather a prickly pear for the last few weeks, and am drinking too much. Oh, yeah, and I’m getting fat.

The one plus (given everything else, including the [contagious?] sore, no decent job hits, the imminent exodus of Bulgaria from the US of A, etc), despite my clear preference for oral/anal/makeout to whacking off, is that I’m really hitting O’s buttons with the mutual masturbation. Until we’d established our basic interface rules early in the relationship, the sex was VERY awkward, and sometimes off-putting. For me, because Orpheus likes to be edged, and my hand would fall asleep before he was ready to cum. For him, because I like frottage, and it used to freak his shit out. Nowadays, these are rare activities in aggregate… Lately, they’ve been constant. One, two, three times daily. And he’s starting to have that happy, Mooney expression in his eyes every time he looks at me. This is nice, but I can’t wait to find out about mr. weird-sore so we can get back to the butt-sex. As he gets Mooney, I’m getting irritated. Plus, he’s got a condition where he gets multiple cankers inside his mouth when he is stressed or eats something too spicy, and he can’t eat my ass, either, so I’m not bottoming until he’s rated to ream full-bore. Boo, weird mouth sores, BOO!!!

Saturday was odd, as Bulgaria threw his going away party… He’s in the US until September 5th, but wanted to see everybody one last time. I’m supposed to be making dinner for Bulgaria and his BF next week as a last hurrah for us. It’s so depressing, and I can’t be negative about it, but when one’s best friend in a city leaves, it’s painful and distressing. Especially given the role B. played for me, getting me through the divorce. Sunday was just all-around crappy. I was at Orpheus’ place downtown while he worked, and I spent most of the day sleeping. I also slept all night last night, and I’m tired as hell today. I’ll be sleeping through my lunch break for the first time in forever. Also, it’s FREEZING in here, and I just can’t get warm. My fingers keep fumbling they’re so cold and grey with purple at the tips… Poop!

Prospecting...

Yesterday, when I woke up, I was cranky. This was odd, because the night before, I’d cooked with Aries. She made a lovely gazpacho, and I’d tricked myself into believing that tofu was, perhaps, low-quality chicken in my old walnut pork recipe. This, with the addition of a reconstituted-dried porcini duxelle in the last five minutes, and a butter-reinforced reduction of dried-mushroom-soaking-juice, dry vermouth, and thickener (corn starch, to my great chagrin), applied as a marinade to the tofu. It took about five times as long, and I don’t think the orange works as well with the heaviness of meaty mushrooms, but I was pleasantly surprised that my evil plan paid off. In any case, though, it had been a good night, and an interesting dinner with fun conversation, so it was a surprise when, upon opening my eyes, I couldn’t stand the thought of working.

I showered, I masturbated, still no will to work. So I called in. I called in, then got to work at updating my resume again, and applied to ten jobs. I also managed to get three solicitation calls today at work, in addition to one last night. The one from last night sucked, though, when I got in touch with the guy… We’ll see how things pan out. Orpheus was very kind yesterday, and even gave me a high-five when he found out I’d skipped work to do prospecting. Oy.