Author: grigiogirl

I got a couple of calls from Tree and FatGirl today – they were in the mood for dinner and drinks and were hopeful I was too. I was, so I met them at their house and FatGirl and I chatted while Tree finished primping. As we were chatting, I noticed a fly in FatGirl’s general proximity and pretty soon FatGirl noticed it too, “Aaaaaahhh,” screamed FatGirl while  his arms rapidly swatted the air. “Aaaaaaaahhh!!! I hate flies!”

Tree had purchased a bottle of wine that reminded both of them of me so we decided to take it with us to the restaurant (which is also Tree’s place of employment). The waitress filled our glasses, we lifted them up for a toast, and Tree said, “Let’s see what you taste like!” FatGirl took a sip and replied, “Is it just me or does this taste a little bit like cherry?”

As we were reviewing the menu, Tree eloquently shared some off-menu suggestions with us. Our waitress returned and asked if we would like to hear the specials. “I just told them the specials,” Tree proudly quipped.

“Speaking of specials,” I piped in, “I’m thinking about getting a foreign exchange student.” FatGirl’s eyes lit up quick. “Oh, perfect! From where? He better be cute!” “I’ll be sure to make sure he is cute for you and, more importantly, that he is at least 18.” “No, really, you need to get a really cute boy. What country is it where are all the cute porn boys are from?” “Czech Republic,” Tree proudly answered. “Those boys are beautiful! I remember staying in my room and watching that porn for about three years. I got locked in – couldn’t get out because of all of the lube on the door.” FatGirl giggled and agreed, “I know, I hate that day! Trapped in your room because it is too slippery to get out.” “That day?” Tree replied, “I said three years.”

Met up with Sleepless and Miss Information for lunch today. We picked a posh little restaurant with a decent lunch special. Upon arriving, I opted to use the making room room. I got back there to find a woman deeply involved in a telephone conversation in the area between the sink and the stalls. “There is woman doing business in the making room room,” I informed Sleepless and Miss Information. “Its the making room room,” said Miss Information, “you’re suppose to ‘do your business’ there.”

Speaking of business, it has been a while since Fru Fru Pants and I have hung out and it is nice to know she hasn’t changed a bit. After attending a meeting we decided to leave my car at that location and walk to the next meeting, which was at the Courthouse. We approached the security area when Fru Fru Pants informed me, “I can’t go in. I’ve got a knife in my purse.” She asked the officer if he could hold it for her and he kindly told her no. We decided it would be best if I just went in without her and she could wait patiently outside. I did so and as we were leaving the courthouse she told me she and the officer spent the majority of the time playing, “can you find the knife.” They did this by running her purse through the x-ray machine several times until he found the knife, albeit pocket knife, and not her chapstick.

After work, Sleepless and Passed The Sniff Test joined Dr. BJ and I for dinner. BeauD and Spicoli showed up right soon after. BeauD was celebrating his birthday and appeared to have spilled a substantial amount of red fluid on his shirt. “It’s not his fault,” said Spicoli. “They were literally pouring the sangria down his throat and it looks like some landed on his shirt.”

 Not wanting to waste an evening out because of a shirt stain, we decided to meet up with Tree at a local pub for $3 drafts. Because it was BeauD’s birthday, he got a slightly more expensive beer. Spicoli finished off his slightly more expensive beer and then headed to the bar with an order, “I’ll have something like this,” he requested while gesturing toward BeauD’s glass, “but in the $3 range.” He then looked at BeauD and I and proclaimed, “I may not be gold, but I’m platinum.”

While in Los Angeles, we went to brunch in celebration of No Onions’ birthday. The restaurant had a “Make your own Bloody Mary” bar. This concept is interesting to me. If I am going out to eat, why would I want to make my own drink?  If I do make my own drink, should I still tip? What if I don’t like it – to whom do I complain? I have so many questions about this concept.

I was chatting about this with two of the party guests and they fully agreed. I wouldn’t go to a salon in hopes of finding a “Wash your own hair” bar or to a dental hygienist to benefit from the “Clean your own teeth” bar. Although, cleaning your own teeth, on a regular basis, is very important.

As the party guests and I continued chatting, the topic changed to sports. More specifically, our lack of interest in football. Big Man On Campus had mentioned he didn’t know anything about football and then started rattling off the different positions. “For someone who doesn’t like football,” I asked, “How do you know this?” “Oh, I once dated a wide receiver.” His friend piped in, “Uh huh, and if he wasn’t a wide receiver when they met, he was by the end of the relationship.” If it wasn’t clear before, it is very clear now why so many people are interested in wanting to do ‘that’.

Yesterday The View, today, Food Network – nothing says comfort like good cooking. S-Unit and I very much appreciate food and were really appreciating all of the comments made by the chefs: “I can’t wait to get this inside me.”; “This is so moist and succulent.”; “Mmmmhmmm, this is more than just a dessert.”; and so on. “See,” said S-Unit, “Food is sexy.”

 

After literally pulling ourselves away from the tv, we headed to No Onions’ birthday brunch. On the way, S-Unit was repeating some of the comments made by I Can’t Put My Finger On It and mentioned she would like to have a British accent. She was practicing speaking with a British accent and said, “I give up. I sound Cockney.” I told her Call Me Rafael told me I sound like Dick Van Dyke when I try to speak with a British accent. “Dick Van Dyke?” Said S-Unit. “Not me. I try to have a little bit of cock in everything I say. Cockney, cocktails and cockadoodle.”

 

S-Unit and I started our morning sipping coffee and watching The View. Dr. Oz was a special guest on the show, “My mom loves Dr. Oz,” said S-Unit. “She has a journal where she is constantly noting his advice. In fact, she goes only by two books in life: the bible and Dr. Oz notes.”

Once we were ramped up on caffeine we walked to the mall. This is a six mile walk (to/from) and the weather was perfect. We stopped at the Container Store and I bought every knick knack they had, including the Little Miss Helpful Bruise Soother. We were making our way back home when a curb got in the way of S-Unit’s graceful demeanor – she went down fast. The interesting thing about her fall is it was rather long and full of a lot of movement. I immediately asked her several questions: “Are you OK? Did you twist your ankle? Do you want to borrow my bruise soother? Should we call your mom to see what Dr. Oz would do?” Luckily, she was fine and we continued on our merry, yet, not so graceful way.

Once on her rooftop patio we laid back on the chaise lounges and, each armed with a French phrase book, attempted to learn and speak French. After an hour or so of trying we determined we barely speak conversational English, so this French thing may not work out for us. We do, however, now know how to ask “Ou est la salle de bain?” A muy importante phrase.

We spent the evening at a charity event in downtown LA. The cause was education related and when we pulled up to valet we were greeted by a sign that read, Supporting the Cure,” and, right below that, “Supporting the Crue.” Being someone who went to school in the 80s, I was excited to learn the event was for both education and Motler Crue.

As we approached the bar we found they had cocktails specific to the event. I opted for an event cocktail while S-Unit and No Onions opted for their regular beverage, Ketel One and soda. We went back for a second round and I tried to upsell them on my drink, “You should do The Teacher. I did last round and it was great.”

After a couple of teachers, we left the event and immediately drove to the closest Taco Bell for another fine drive-thru dining experience. Last night, no onions. Tonight, no tomatoes. “I like tomatoes,” said No Onions, “but I like S-Unit more and she doesn’t like them, so I don’t get them.” So sweet – she definitely supported both the cure and the crue tonight.

Today marks my first date with JB. To celebrate, Sleepless and I bought tickets to Paris. For me, Paris seals the deal with JB and I couldn’t be happier about it.

 

I arrived in LA to find S-Unit and No Onions waiting for me at the baggage carousel. We were all starving so we immediately drove to a drive-thru fast food restaurant near S-Unit’s house. S-Unit placed the order, “We’ll have a regular quarter pounder with cheese, no onions. A regular quarter pounder with cheese, no cheese, no regular. A regular quarter pounder with cheese and nothing else. No, wait, no, OK. Oh, and three small fries.” It is amazing how good spit on your burger tastes when you’re hungry.

 

We met up with Manila Gorilla and his friends at a popular West side bar. “I need input from the four of you on something,” said I Can’t Put My Finger On It with his proper British accent. “I can’t put my finger on it,” he pauses, taps the table with his finger, makes eye contact with each of us, and takes a deep breath, “but I fuckin’ hate this place.” We thanked him for his honesty and all decided to go to a bar down the street.

 

“This was a good idea,” said Manila Gorilla. “Now you’ve seen way more of LA. Well, two blocks of it, anyway.” Manila Gorilla and his mates had just been to this bar a week or so ago, had only planned to stay an hour or so and ended up staying five hours. “It was a really good time and the S.W.A.T. team had surrounded the area and closed off the streets, so we had to stay.”

 

I Can’t Put A Finger On It was asking how long I was in town and whether or not we could hang out “European style” for one or three hours. “I think you like good food, good laugh, serious television,” he told me and continued, “I’ll date you while watching cable.”

 

S-Unit and I could not stop laughing about this exchange and decided dancing was in order. As we threw down some of our finest moves, S-Unit and Manila Gorilla would pop their heads around and exclaim, “I really like this place, really like it. Music is good. I really like it.”

 

As the three of us left the bar we located I Can’t Put My Finger On It so we could say goodbye. “Look, I know I’ve been over here chatting it up with a girl and all but its going nowhere, I still don’t know how I’m getting home and I really like the way you dance.” I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I think I Can’t Put My Finger On It still wants to date me while watching cable tv.

Dr. BJ and I had the pleasure of joining Skiwi, Disco Dancing Dog Groomer and some of their Out-of-Town Guests  for dinner last night. Unfortunately, I was late getting home from work, which resulted in Dr. BJ and I arriving post salad but just in time for the main course. I phoned Skiwi to inform him I was late and Dr. BJ would be joining me. “No problem, we’ll just cut the lasagna into six pieces. No, wait, too late for that. We’ve already cut them into five pieces, so we’ll all just eat half of ours and put the uneaten halves on a plate for Dr. BJ.” So congenial.

We had a lovely time, enjoying our half pieces, drinking wine and sharing stories about all of our adventures. Out-of-Town Guests are on holiday and have been doing a lot of hiking and camping. They started talking about mountaineering and the toll it takes on one’s hands. Out-of-Town Guest #1 said she cared too much about her hands to do mountaineering and then pointed out Out-of-Town Guest #2’s hands, which were “very large and look arthritic, but they’re not.” I told Out-of-Town Guest #2 he should consider being a hand model. “I could be the ‘after’ model,”he said. “Maybe the ‘before’,” I replied. “Right, before. My hands and feet have been more places than you’d like to know.”

Skiwi then started discussing speakers – he is a major speaker trafficker – and relayed a story about one of the times I assisted him in the retrieval of a set. “Pretty sure that was blogworthy,” said Skiwi. “Speaking of blogworthy,” commented Dr. BJ, “I haven’t read the blog from the other night at the bar when that whole thing went down with Touch Me, No, Wait, I Will.” I told Dr. BJ I didn’t include that in the blog because so much had happened that night and, I wasn’t entirely sure on the spelling of ‘booger’.

Upon arriving at the bar the other night I ran into someone who I haven’t seen for ten or more years. Touch Me, No, Wait, I Will immediately recognized me and I immediately realized he was totally high. He started rubbing on me, trying to lift me up, and saying, “Oh, wow, you really do feel like a girl – I like that.” This type of activity took place each time he ran into me throughout the night. After the last time he rubbed himself and then me, I noticed something on the back of my arm. I asked Dr. BJ if he knew what it was and he said no. I looked at it again and said, “It is a booger! I’ve got a bloody booger on my arm from Touch Me, No, Wait, I Will!” Dr. BJ shouted, “Oh, gross! Don’t touch it! We’ve got to get that off of you and quick.” Together, Dr. BJ and I remedied what could have been a very tragic moment. Tragic for a variety of reasons, primarily because we were in the middle of a caricature drawing and I didn’t want the artist to include that in the sketch.

Tina Turner really knew what she was doing when she released Private Dancer. There is definitely something to be said about having the dance floor to yourself. Which is exactly what happened when OregganO, Sleepless, LA LA Lovely, Passed The Sniff Test and I decided to venture to our favorite dive bar for karaoke – we were the only patrons there.

Clearly, there would be no fire marshal violations taking place tonight. In addition to us, the bartender and Karaoke Master were present. We ordered our drinks and Karaoke Master told us he would “start it up” shortly. A few minutes later, as we were enjoying our drinks, we heard Karaoke Master on the mic, “OK everybody, we’re going to start up karaoke in about five minutes, so get ready to sing.” We were still the only patrons.

We appreciated the respect Karaoke Master was giving us and then we noticed Joint Juice in the corner. Maybe the announcement was for him, not us, we thought. Turns out, it was for all of us.

We all took our turns singing, even Joint Juice. Sleepless supported every performer, dancing – at one point on a chair – for anyone and everyone who t00k the mic – all seven of us.

I soon broke the news to them that I had paid $500 to reserve the bar for a private party and, for an extra $50, got Joint Juice (not to be confused with junk juice – which has protein and is often times served at private parties).

As is often the case, Sleepless, OregganO and I made “big” plans while we were drinking. This time, the plans involved a barbecue. Sleepless is housesitting at a fantastic pad with an incredible patio, so we thought, “Why not!?!”

Cream of Tartar had promised to be the grillmaster, just prior to sharing a serious story with one shoe on – so, unfortunately, we had to reallocate barbecue duties. I was working the grill and chatting with Tree about work. “That’s why I work at a restaurant,” said Tree. “When its slow, I just drink.” OregganO piped in, “I drink at work sometimes too.” I then reminded her that she works from home.

As we were sitting out on the deck, a couple of things happened. I was feeding OregganO her Jell-O shot, it dripped down her chin, and FatGirl ran over and “licked it up.” This so-not-gay activity had all of us laughing, when all of a sudden FatGirl looks at all of us and says, “What? It tastes better on her face.”

Skiwi and Disco Dancing Dog Groomer surprised us by showing up on their bikes. Skiwi took a quick glance around the room and said, “We rode our bikes to a covert area, donning our covert cooler packed with ice, wine and two Elmo cups, and waited to see what happened.” Looks like this is what happened.

Being that the weather was so nice, we decided it might be good to compliment it with some music. Sleepless quickly ran into the house to locate some music and returned with a small white object. “Is this an iPod?” “No,” I had to disappoint her, “It is a remote.”

We later headed to a local dive bar (yes, we do a dive bar circuit) where FatGirl proceeded to muck with Right Rear – constantly trying to grab Right Rear’s pecks when Right Rear said, “Watch it Stewie, I know your tricks.” Dr. BJ looked at me and shouted, “Right that shit down! That’s BW!”

Sundays are always a good day to tie a scarf around your hair (’50s style), apply a vibrant shade of lipstick and drive around in a red, convertible sports car with a 4’x3′ mirror out of the back. After driving around two counties, Tree phoned to invite Sleepless and I to join he and Screamer for brunch (which, since it was well after one, is really just lunch). Just before we were finishing up, FatGirl suprised us with his presence. Sleepless thought our server was cute, so FatGirl shared Sleepless’ feelings with him. This activity caused Sleepless to get all a flutter and resulted in several questions about what she should do now. Tree looked at Sleepless and said, “You’ve been hanging around us (gesturing to me) for why too long – now you think everything is about you.”

Immediately after brunch, Sleepless and I stopped by OregganO and Cream of Tartar’s house. They weren’t home, however, would be back soon, so we completely made ourselves at home – even though we had to do so outside. Cream of Tartar offered to make us dinner (elk, corn and tots) if we waited for him to finish the plumbing downstairs. Not the kind to turn down dinner, we graciously accepted the invitation and patiently waited for him and dinner. During this time we had fabulous “girl conversations” while listening to Wilson Phillips and Bryan Adams. Cream of Tartar, in the midst of cooking our dinner, shouted out, “Bryan Adams? Oh man, are you trying to make me cry?” He then turned up the volume, probably to drown out the tears, and sang along to “Please Forgive Me.”

After dinner, FatGirl stopped by for drinks. As soon as he found out Cream of Tartar was there, and he is a fireman, his excitement for life increased dramatically. Cream of Tartar, not one to let down, made FatGirl an offer he couldn’t refuse, “You want to put a helmet on and take pictures?” Within seconds FatGirl (and minutes later, Sleepless) was wearing the helmet and BDU and hanging from the ornamental iron on the stoop while OregganO snapped photos. After Sleepless’ photo shoot she was relaxing in her chair, wearing the helmet and sipping on her wine, when Cream of Tartar said, “You look like a girl that just came out of a recruit school.” “What does that mean?” asked Sleepless. “I don’t know if it’s good or bad,” Cream of Tartar replied.

Tree and Screamer soon arrived and, they too, got in on the action. In proper host fashion, Cream of Tartar headed to the kitchen to prepare food for Tree. Tree wasn’t aware Cream of Tartar was being so thoughtful until he heard shouting coming from the kitchen, “DO YOU WANT A BEAN BURRITO?” Tree politely and quietly replied, “No thanks, I’m having cookies and milk at home.”

Tree and Screamer were showing us pictures of a dog they are hoping to get and I asked what they planned to name him. “Maybe Dolores,” said Tree. “Winston,” said Screamer. “We can call him whatever we want – we’re gay,” said Tree. “Dolores, Winston, Lola, maybe all three.”

Although FatGirl was having fun, he was hurting from his recent workout routine. Cream of Tartar suggested he try eating elk meat. “The elk is going to help your workout tomorrow,” said Cream of Tartar and then he raised his arms above his head and did the “call of the wapiti.”

As the night went on, Cream of Tartar’s contributions to the conversations got better and better. At one point he decided to tell a story, looked down, noticed one of his flip flops were missing and said, “This story is a good one and so serious I’m going to tell it with only one shoe on.” It was around this time that OregganO decided to assist Cream of Tartar. He looked her in the eye and said, “Thank you for protecting me and the horny elkerdness.”