For over 12 years we have stayed at the Holiday Inn Costa Mesa, which in itself isn't all that exciting (Japanese grocery emporium 2 blocks away not withstanding), but only a 10 minute walk away (over the 405 on a bridge with limited sidewalks) is South Coast Plaza, the OC's shopping mecca. I think they would rather I didn't mention the Sears on the East end of the mall, but instead focus on Gucci, Fendi, Armani ("i's" et al) on the west side. But truly exciting (for me at least) is the Nordstrom Rack outlet out the back, through the parking lot, cross the 6 lane street and through the next parking lot caddy-corner to Best Buy (how's that for direction). I share this with you because traipsing across the highway to N.R. was always my raison d'etre for working a trip to Orange County.
Sadly, times have changed and we are now staying in a Crown Plaza in the middle of an office park just opposite of the airport. Not only am I surrounded by ugly office buildings, but I can't even see the runway -- absolutely no entertainment here at all! Luckily I have a Netflix movie with me. Unlike Cousin B, I don't have a long list of movies to tell ya about - just one.
Tonight's movie was "Testosterone", about a jilted lover whose boyfriend goes out for cigarettes and never comes home. Jilted lover tracks cigarette absconder to Buenos Aires and enters a twisted love triangle with another ex who may or may not commit suicide, and in the end Jilted lover may or may not hack off cigarette man's (Antonio Sabato Jr. in probably one of his lesser-known roles) head with a machete. The movie kind of leaves things up in the air a bit, but jilted lover returns to LA and gets himself a miniature dachsund, so I was pleased with the outcome.
This movie did fair better than "Saw" (number 1) which I started to watch last night while ironing curtains - just a little light entertainment. I could only stomach 40 minutes of gore before changing to Extreme Home Makeover (what Ty Pennington moved to when he decided to do bigger and better re-mo's). Okay I admit that its pure puff-pastry on the screen, but at least its uplifting and there's no blood.
So with the ironing and stitching of the sheers for the living room windows, I think it is safe to say the living room is basically finished. I had run off to West Elm on Friday and bought a whole bunch of throw pillows. Saturday's errand was Ikea for curtains and a rod, and they had a smorgasbord (thats Swedish for alot) of pillows at a third the price. So I went ape in the pillow department, then went home and took all the pillows back to West Elm. I traded in the pillows for small endtables in a white shell pattern, so now the living room is awash in whiteness. I also hung the curtain rod, substituting rod holders meant for short curtains with a nut/bolt/washer combination of my own devices that I put together all by myself. I even had the drill holes done in less than 5 minutes and used all correct terminology at the hardware store when I asked for washers, nuts, bolts, screws and anchors. I was really impressed with myself for using the word "anchor" and remembing correctly how to insert a drill bit into the end of the drill. My father would be proud.....
The weekend was glorious and I had the A/C off from Friday until Sunday night. I had a nice bikeride down the Mount Vernon trail outside the beltway and back Sunday morning before it got too terribly warm.
My housewarming party is set for Sunday. The theme is tapas (aka cheaper than a full buffet dinner) and I think I'm up to 37 attendees. Hopefully I'll have a few more. If anyone has any ideas for a good vodka punch receipe, please send them my way and soon!
Men continue to vex me. Why is it that men who are taken still choose to flirt? I was at the park with Elsa on Saturday taking a nice stroll with Patti (the owner) and Marchello (the dog) when we bump into a nice-looking gentleman who I have seen there occassionally sith two very nice looking golden retievers and is always very smiley smiley, though we've never had any substantive conversation. So this time he only has one dog with him and a short man. I said something like, "oh where is your other dog" and short man pipes in, "oh WE only have one dog but we babysit another alot." Now that I am a single man, I tend to pick up on these (maybe not so subtle) cues, and as I walked away I said, "Patti did you hear that "we") and she says, "I sure did, and I was gonna tell you if you didn't catch it". Now I don't think tall drink of water needs to scowl whenever I walk by, but I don't think he needs to grin from ear to ear and I will certainly give him a cold shoulder. Or how about the cute guy in 20A today flying to SFO who was all friendly and actually came to the galley to strike up a conversation. I'm thinking well isn't that a nice man, when my co-worker (again more observant than I, I suppose) mentions that the man is wearing a ring on his ring finger. Now how do I know what that means? What is proper etiquette for asking a gentleman if the ring on his ring finger means he's shacked up or just in it for the adornment? The answer is not in my big gay handbook that we all got when joined the club. Nor is there any good recovery when you call a gentleman (who mind you, gives you his calling card and not after 6 cocktails) and he doesn't remember meeting you. Or the boys who don't call when you really think they ought to (and of course they know who they are...) I could go on, but then I might be giving my delicate readers the wrong impression. I'll just say its a kind of a f*U&%^ked up dating world. And you know even though its screwy, its still exciting (I say with a sly grin). At the very least its fodder for my blog.
This is post two in a row with no photos. I'll hopefully have some fun ones to post after my party this weekend. I'm praying in advance to the powers that be to spare me from an especially bad hangover. I've made sure that I have the day off the next day!
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