Happy Meal II

Sometimes I kind of, somewhat, wonder what folks think of me when I take pics of seemingly random thing.  Not that I really care.

I snapped this at the cafeteria at the new workplace.

I did it for the obvious.

I didn’t eat it as I think it said 35g fat.  YIKES.  I don’t care that there is no trans fat.

Song by: the Cardigans

Following

I’m loopt-ed.

It’s a little 1984-ish, but via your cellphone people you chose to track you, can track you.

I don’t think anyone can really tell if I’m at 7-11 or Popeye’s, just that I’m in the general vicinity. ….and it’s not like I have a ton of people who I’m following or allowing them to follow me. As you can see from the map below, I’ve got bi-coastal coverage (thanks Moby, thanks Brad).

Now, if you want to get really really personal, just team up loopt with my new most favourite (yet untested) iPhone application
Yes – use loopt to find which bathroom I might need to use at a moment’s notice. CREEPY.

Song by: the Bangles

Mr. Plow

Currently, we are about 3″ away from having the snowiest January on record.

Yesterday, though the news says we got less than a foot. They are liars. Or at the very least, they didn’t measure at our house.

Before work, Denton cleared about 4″ of snow. Not a lot, but we knew more was coming and we did not need those additional flakes when one of us got home and had to clear again.

As it turns out, when I got home, there was at least 10″ in the drive……and I know from 10″. (bada bing!) Though that would have been hard to navigate anyway, naturally, the plows and other cars had done their damage at the end of the drive.

Since we live at the end of a street, we get folks turning around in the drive. Just enough to pack it down. Let’s compound that with the street plows that covered that packed snow with the 10″ that were actually on the street, but now resided in the first five feet of our drive. Bother!

So I park in the street and trudge my way up the drive to get the snow blower. Since our drive is 80′ long, it is a necessity. But get this! The snow blower won’t turn over. I cannot get it started. Now, I said something much worse than ‘bother’. Much much worse. For miles around, women covered their children’s ears.  Rightfully so.

I call Denton, who swears he can fix it when he gets home. I know better than to wait and get out the handy-dandy shovel. I start at the bottom of the drive and dig out about 7 feet. Not bad. I had also dug out a shovel length all the way down the drive too. At this point, I’m tired so I figure, I’ll just dig another length that accommodates the width of our cars. The rest of the snow can wait – right?

Just then, I’m reminded there might be some superior being – I mean, besides Ina Garten….or Aaron Eckard. A private snow plow, truck guy is driving down the street and I hail him like I’m trying to catch a taxi. We negotiated a price. And by that I mean, I asked what he’d charge, he told me and I paid it.

Within a few minutes, we were dug out and I got my car off the street.

As for the snow blower? Well it seems when Denton was using it this morning the key had fallen out. I didn’t notice – clearly. Now the key is probably somewhere in a big big big snow pile at the end of our drive. I’ll look for it in May.

Song by: Linda Rondstadt & Barney Gumble

The Man With the Child in His Eyes

Since I started my new job mid-month (or actually, since I left my old job mid-month), my benefits from the former place were still good through the end of this month. Now I signed up for a high deductible health plan, so it didn’t make sense to try to get a bunch of stuff done the only month I was going to be part of it. That’s crazy talk.

But I did cash in on the vision piece of it. Last year I got contacts, this year, I went for a new pair of specs. You can always use those, right?

I usually feel I end up settling on frames – and the older I get, the worse my eyes get. And the worse my eyes get, the less creative I can be (for the most part) with the frames that will support the lenses needed to actually see.

So I found a new frame place. The amount they had was overwhelming, but the owner was great (and funny) and he helped me find – ok ok, he found – a new pair of frames.  Not coincidentally they were the most expensive I had looked at, but the insurance made it a great deal.

…and they are a bit different.

In the picture above, they seem to disappear, which is kind of cool.  In person, they look a bit more neat-o.  They contain chrome accents.

The arms of the are bowed a bit and they don’t even touch my temple.  Nor do they wrap around my ears.  That’s a good thing.

But as I saw this self-picture above, it has come to my attention that I am about one step away from being Dr. Bunson Honeydew.

Song by: Kate Bush

Happy Hour

Well, I went out again.  Yes, again.

It seems I’ve been going out a lot and drinking more lately.  I’m not complaining.

But I warned you all – I went out with ex-ex co-workers/friends.  Two of them.  One married, one in the midst of a divorce.   And then me – one gay, but still in a more committed relationship than they.   I’m not judging.

It turns out, five tequilas on a Monday evening might be too many for the start of a work week.  Or it just means I’m a bit out of practice.

We actually had a nice time.  Honest to g-d, we had not been out together for almost three years, so it was fun to be with them – even in their heterosexual way.  I know that sounds weird, but some of my other non-gay friends just aren’t this straight.

We did vow to not wait another three years to do this.  And we actually have tentative plans to hit the wine bar where I got drunk last Friday.

In the future, some of you might have to save me from myself.

Song by: the Housemartins

Record of the Month

I figured I’d do a monthly ‘what I’m listening to’ kind of thing. This could be viewed as a lame placeholder kind of post. And probably it is. But it’s my blog! So there!

Heard of Lisa Hannigan? I’ll assume the answer is a ‘no’.

No real reason you should. She’s been a good Irish vocalist, appearing on a number of projects – most notably Damien Rice’s last two studio disks. Hannigan does a great job being the harmony to his melody.  She has also shown up on Snow Patrol and Herbie Hancock recordings.

But now she’s put our her debut solo disk, Sea Sew.

Just because she is a good collaborator does not make her a great stand-along artist. I was bummed. I was hoping for a stand-out album.  What is good in theory becomes 10 songs of extremely similar nature.

What she is good at on Rice’s disks she has spread out for her entire song selection on Sea Sew.  I like a bit of variety, even if the style remains the same. Hannigan only has one song that breaks that mold, “Keep it All”.

That is not to say the other songs are not serviceable.  They are well put together, and well executed.  But they are just bland – at least when played back to back.  I find that her strength is being that stable vocal figure to someone like Rice – who can sometimes go manic on his songs (listen to their “i remember” from his first solo disk).  I think she could break out of that role and I think this album is decent – just safe.

I don’t have a video of her solo work, but you can see/hear her on the below video, as she sings with Rice on his song, “volcano”.

Every Picture Tells a Story

It’s Sunday.   What can I say?  I’m being lazy.

My sister was nice enough to provide me the below picture, which came from the NYT site.

I assume she meant for me to use it on the blog – though she didn’t say so specifically.  Either way, I’m running with it.

Let’s face it, if I could have snapped the pic myself I would have.  But someone did the work for me, as I was not over in England.

Tomorrow should have a more ‘real’ blog entry than this one.  But it is still funny and it made me laugh.

Song by:  Rod Stewart

This Drinkin’ Will Kill Me

My first week of the new job is over. No damage done. Work-wise.

After work, I met my man-date, Scott, out for a few drinks. For those who don’t remember, Scott is a straight, former co-worker whom I have a strong non-sexual bond with. Or as most call them: a friend.

My long-term friends would absolutely love him and would bring him into our co-hort without hesitation.   ….and he can drink with the best of them. BONUS!

Last night, it was a wine bar. Neither of our significant others were present – meaning my partner, or his wife.

The place was brand new – not even open a week. If tonite is any indication, it will be successful. We got there early enough to snag two bar seats. There were specials on martinis and beer – but c’mon, this was a wine bar. We still went low brow for the house red, but it was pretty frickin’ good.

We attempted to not talk about my old employ, where Scott still works, though it was really sweet that he seems a bit displaced there without me. Yeah, that’s how much we got along there.

I think we were on our 2nd glass of red when we were joined by two women. Yeah, you heard that right. Char and Tiffany. Apparently Char is not short for anything – I asked. You know I would. I wasn’t drunk enough to make a mall-singing reference to Tiff, though it crossed my mind.

Char was a talker. She was fun – for a republican. We were all hitting it off. Scott chuckled when I leaned in and said, “I am so going to hit that!”.

Brad, our bartender, chose to pretty much ignore us unless we went way out of our way to flag him down.  ….and we were sitting at the bar!   We opted to name him Brad, as we truly didn’t know his name – and then it went to Bradley, as so many gay men go by their full name.

We had no idea if he was a ‘mo or not.  He did wink at me once, but that means nothing……..or does it?  The girls who were now with us, thought they’d get his attention with their skimpier outfits – but it did not do the trick, further making the assumption that he did not like women, in that way.

The now four of us played some game where you had to name 12 anatomy parts that have only three letters. Tit, Ass and Nip do not count. Apparently neither does ‘taint’. It is not three letters, but I couldn’t stop myself from saying it. They all laughed, so I guess they all know what it means.  I think Scott and I were on our 4th glass by this point.

The appetizers Scott and I got were good – pistachio crusted scallops (2) and jumbo prawns (2) in an asian slaw.

I think we had one more glass of wine before Scott wanted to head out.  But as Char so aptly put it – it was a good first date.

And here I was worried that next week, with my newly divorced friends, that they’d want to go pick up chicks.

Song by: Dwight Yoakam

D.I.V.O.R.C.E.

It seems a number of my straight friends or colleagues are getting divorced.

I can’t say I’m friendly with them as couples, as most of these are people I work. When I do socialize with them outside of work, spouses and partners rarely or never attend. I’m ok with that.

Not that I have lots of straight single friends, but I can only count on one hand the number of weddings I’ve attended or been invited to in the last decade. However, I can count the same number of splits on the same hand just within this last 12 months.

I swear, these guys telling me they are getting divorced is something like coming out. It can be an awkward part of their life that they didn’t want anyone to know about, let alone how to tell them. And then of course, on the receiving end, there isn’t anything to say that doesn’t seem out of place.

One or two of them, it is like an ‘oh!’. But on another two, it was like, ‘thank g-d that’s over’. The wives were absolute shrews (my apologies to shrews), you could just see that they were not meant to be a partner for anyone. Though marriage is supposed to be equals, this was clearly not the case with these couples.

I find it ironic that the gay couples I know of roughly the same age, have been together much longer than the straight ones divorcing.  10, 15, 20+ years.  Even we passed another year, this last week.

So next week, I’m going out for drinks with two of the now, or soon-to-be single guys.  Separately.   At least there will be alcohol.

g-d, I hope they don’t want to hit on chicks!

Song by Tammy Wynette

Shopping with Blobby

Yet another installment in the drudgery that is everyday shopping. The camera-phone makes it a bit more fun – though I get looks whenever I take pics of products. Like I care what people think!

This shopping event is brought to you via Mexico.

mmmmm……Mango Pops.

Or as Morty called it, Turd on a Stick!