Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Having free time due to being unemployed, I've been watching QUITE a lot of television. although i've yet to sink to the state of wearing my pajamas all day and drinking warm beer(but wait, that might be coming once the wine cellar runs dry) I've recently been rewatching one of my favorite britcoms 'To the Manor Born"
Alas, Unless I get a job soon I may be forced to sell the manor and move up too to the lodge!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
So I know and talk to a lot of guys at my gym, and I mean a LOT! I'm there up to five tiems a week for up to three hours a time. Though my trainer and my training partner I've come to know most of the hardcore weightlifters. We all train around the same time, spot each other when necessary and bounce new excercises and diet or training tips off each other. For the first time in my life I feel like part of the "in" jock crowd.
There's the fly in the ointment.. I am QUITE sure I am the only gay guy in the group, Some know, Many may assume, No one so much as bats an eye about it. We are there to lift plain and simple. It is our drug of choice..
HOWEVER! What I am find increasingly annoying is that the other gay guys in the gym are now viewing me as the Homosexual Hedda Hopper. I get questioned if I know, or think, this guy is gay, or has a girlfriend, or if she's a beard, of if these two guys are "more" than just "workout" partners....Christ doesn't anyone go to the gym to just work out anymore?
Or am I just jealous cuz no one is asking about me??????
"February House is the uncovered story of an extraordinary experiment in communal living, one involving young but already iconic writers -- and the country's best-known burlesque performer -- in a house at 7 Middagh Street in Brooklyn during 1940 and 1941. It was a fevered yearlong party fueled by the appetites of youth and by the shared sense of urgency to take action as artists in the months before America entered the war. In spite of the sheer intensity of life at 7 Middagh, the house was for its residents a creative crucible. Carson McCullers's two masterpieces, The Member of the Wedding and The Ballad of the Sad Cafe, were born, bibulously, in Brooklyn. Gypsy Rose Lee, workmanlike by day, party girl by night, wrote her book The G-String Murders in her Middagh Street bedroom. Auden -- who along with Britten was being excoriated at home in England for absenting himself from the war -- presided over the house like a peevish auntie, collecting rent money and dispensing romantic advice. And yet all the while he was composing some of the most important work of his career. Sherill Tippins's February House, enlivened by primary sources and an unforgettable story, masterfully recreates daily life at the most fertile and improbable live-in salon of the twentieth century."
Monday, June 22, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
It's baking day round here. This Saturday is my Emancipation day party, marking one year of freedom from the biggest mistake I ever made. I'll be up to by elbows in butter, eggs and flour. So far I've got Boston Cream Pie, Carmel cheese cake, Orange cranberry bread and a tidewater(pineapple coconut pound cake) cake on the menu. I hope it's enough! I am soooooo going off the diet!
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The "other" side of the abominable snow man...
Another particular favorite of my younger bother and I, so much so that we were forced to watch it in the kitchen on our crappy smaller black and white TV set as my father was watching "The sound of Music" in the living room and in his words we "didn't know what was good"
Yes I know, gay de-merit points for passing on Julie Andrews but the camp cheese of Snow Beast and an appearance by Sylvia Sydney should count for something!
'balancing my meal' has become a long running gag with my younger brother and I.
I've tried using it on many a catering job when carrying a tray (yes, with the song included) but to no avail. You can't teach this younger generation anything!
Friday, June 12, 2009
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Sorry about the lack of posts but I've been rather swamped as of late. Maybe it was more than just coincidence, but I'd just finished reading Mildred Pierce and I was suddenly offered a wait staff job. three nights a week, one night in kitchen. While it may lack all the usual glamour of catering(SARCASM!) it's a restaurant within walking distance of my home and a chance at a set schedule, rather than running and begging for shifts from catering company to catering company. The salary should nestle in nicely with my unemployment benefits to keep me afloat.
If you ever find yourself in the hood stop by at the Centre Street cafe, Tuesdays Thursdays or Saturdays