It Must be 1999!

Now I know how Courtney Love must feel after one of her benders. I truly partied like it was 1999 this weekend, and I have the catatonic gaze and utter lack of self-respect to prove it. This morning I felt a bit guilty about honoring veterans this Memorial Day by partying all weekend. Then I learned the holiday was started by a druggist, so once again I find myself acting appropriately without meaning to.

Friday night after rehearsal, I went with some of the naked men to CC Slaughters, where I ate dinner (i.e., munched on the olives from The Executive's martinis). This was followed by a visit to the Red Cap Garage, where one of my hot softball players from last weekend showed up. This man rocks my world, and I'm sure he rocks his boyfriend's world too. (sigh)

Oh, I never did tell you about the hot softball players, did I? Well, I will post a picture soon, and by soon I mean "as soon as I have money to develop pictures". Right now I am doing research for a book I'm writing called Portland on Four Dollars a Day, so I have no money for frivolous luxuries like developing film or buying groceries.

The hot softball player I will call Hercules chatted me up at Red Cap, and he even bought me a beer to thank me for the hours of entertainment he says I provided him. I got excited for a second and thought maybe we had sex and I just forgot. Then he explained that he's been reading Toaster Oven. As if a beer wasn't enough thanks, Hercules became the gift that kept on giving. He removed his shirt and dragged me out to the dance floor. I had a great time with Hercules, and I hope we will become great friends and that we never fall into that trap of becoming friends who sleep together, because that would be awful. (I knew I couldn't make that sound convincing, but I gave it a shot).

Speaking of shots, the rest of the weekend consisted of a wildly fun birthday party with my posse of straples (straples = straight people), karaoke at a bowling alley, hanging out with the Yum Yum Brotherhood, more drinks at Silverado, and karaoke at The Galaxy with juju, her mom and grandma, Metro, Erin, The Handsome Prince and a cast of thousands. Last night The Handsome Prince and I sang one of our signature duets, "Come What May" from Moulin Rouge. (I'm Ewan. He's Nicole.)

And here we are. We love each other.