Friday
I met Brent and Casey for sushi at my favorite sushi restaurant, Yahoo Sushi! (Okay, it’s not really called that but I would TOTALLY try a restaurant called Yahoo Sushi!, at least once.) I was high on the fact that it was payday, a non-rent paying paycheck (woohoo!), and that I’d just purchased a new pedometer at Target. (I was given one in food class last week, but it failed to work properly. Apparently, after a day of walking, it’s possible, according to the pedometer, to have not gone anywhere.) I also picked up a copy of Scent of a Woman because (1) Pacino rules and (2) Pacino rules and (3) I only had the movie on
I ordered WAY too much sushi, but I hadn’t eaten any lunch on Friday, so by 8:00 PM, cereal was a distant memory and my eyes were about four times as big as my stomach. So I enjoyed part of it for dinner on Friday and the rest for breakfast on Saturday. Day-old sushi is not that awesome, but I wasn’t throwing away $30 of leftovers.
Saturday
After my non-traditional breakfast, I hung out at my apartment all day like a bum. The big difference in spending yet another Saturday at home was that a week of eating better had changed my energy. I could tell that I was napping because I was legitimately tired, not just tired from dragging around a McDonald’s-heavy body. I didn’t deep clean the house with a Q-Tip and OCD-like fervor, but I did notice that my energy was better, that I got around easier, and that I just didn't feel icky. it was nice to feel so different, yet subtly so. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve detoxed from fast food and started experiencing the food joy associated with non-sugary breakfasts and actual fruit consumption. Amazing what a small change makes.
All weekend long, there was a “Three’s Company” marathon on. I discovered, unfortunately, just how homophobic the show was. That fact made me sad because it was one of my favorite shows as a kid. After awhile, I just couldn’t take the characters’ digs that Jack Tripper wasn’t a real man because he was supposedly gay. I know that the show was broadcast in the 70s and early 80s, long before Ellen and “Will and Grace” and, well, long before gay was Awesome for Boosting Ratings, but it was still really disheartening. And I know his character was only pretending to be gay so that he could share an apartment with two women (which was Scandalous!™ then and seems so insignificant now), but still.
I can only imagine what sorts of homophobic messages were implanted in my brain as a kid. Maybe none because I don’t remember ever thinking gay men were any less masculine than straight men. It probably helped that I grew up in a city that was full of artists and hippies and that my parents sponsored a writing group at our home and that I was exposed to women with unshaved armpits and Birkenstocks and some of my friends' parents were single mothers and I met gay couples at an early age. Of course, I didn’t know any of that then. Sally was just a lady who liked to paint, wear long skirts and sandals, and hadn’t shaved since the sexual revolution. My parents were just people who spent a lot of time at their typewriters. (Okay, so I was probably one of the only kids on the playground who knew what freelancing was.) Joe and Jim were just two friends of my parents who came over for brunch. Larry got robbed and hit with a chain and spent days in the hospital. (Years later I’d figure out that Larry had been gay bashed.) After hours of watching “Three’s Company” and trying to recapture some of the hilarity that I remembered, I gave up and switched to "Law and Order" reruns. Because, you know, murder and pedophilia and embezzling are so much better than homophobia.
Sunday
I met my friend Steele at a local homo-owned coffee shop for breakfast. I had world’s tiniest smoked salon panini, yogurt, and too-strong coffee for about $10. Amazing how expensive food seems after I stop going to Starbucks every morning and buying all my meals out. I estimated that I saved $31.05 and about 3725 calories last week by skipping my morning latte and lemon pound cake. All together now: JESUS CHRIST! (Where?!?)
After breakfast, I talked to Serena for awhile. She hasd a hed code so she dounds fubby on da phobe.
I decided to go to the grocery store while I was out, encouraged by both the nice weather and my desire to not go home less than two hours after I’d left. On the way, I passed The Date’s apartment and decided to ring her up. (I know, I know!) We talked for a few minutes and found out we were only blocks away from each other, so she came with me to the grocery store (a little weird, but nice to have the company) and I did my shopping. While we were shopping, someone called her and invited her out for beer. I was really embarrassed that she walked around the store and talked on her cell phone like she was strolling around her apartment. Mainly, I didn’t like that she was right next to my cart and clearly with me. Embarrassment by Proxy = not cool.
After Screamy McShouty got off the phone, she invited me to go with her on the beer outing and, against my better judgment, I said sure sounds great but after I got home and put away my groceries and processed what I was doing by calling her in the first place and I really thought about what I expected from her knowing full well she couldn’t give it to me, I decided I didn’t want to meet her for a beer after all. So I used the “my mom invited me to dinner at the last minute” excuse and left a message on Date’s voice mail that I wasn’t coming to meet her. And she didn’t call me back, which really shouldn’t have surprised me. I’ll probably see her again in another six weeks or four months and she’ll probably make me laugh hysterically because she’s good at that and I’ll think hopeful thoughts about being her girlfriend and then she’ll do something stupid, like not call me back, and remind me why I’m happy I’m not going out with her but then I’ll remember how good she smells and I’ll swoon and curse pheromones to hell.
After the grocery, I spent the evening doing dishes and cleaning up and drawing and playing with the kitties and watching more episodes of "Law and Order." (Yeah, I decided not to get rid of my TV. It sounds great for self-discipline and reading more and being less of a couch bum, but I can also accomplish that by Getting Off the Couch and Going Outside.) I stayed up until midnight, which was stupid considering I started yawning about 9:30, but I didn’t want my lovely weekend to end. At least I went to bed at 12. I could’ve watched Law and Order until 2:00 AM.
Monday
King V and I spent a good portion of the morning laughing at my coworker's honeymoon stories because he makes ordinary occurrences into amazing adventures, like escaping from the Palace of Scientology in San Francisco after falling for the “free tour!” bait. I told him I was glad he was back and he recommended I move to San Francisco after telling me how cool the gay neighborhood was. Neighborhood? There’s only one? In gay Mecca?
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