Dear Stalker, there is important information here as to my whereabouts for the next few days. Please let me know (a voice-altered threatening phone call will be fine) if you need me to post a map.
I am going out of town for a few days, so I won't be able to update until Tuesday.
And when I get back Tuesday, I may be too worn out to update. So I am going to go ahead and write about my weekend now, even though it hasn't happened yet....
What a wild weekend! All of my wildest dreams came true at Pacific City this weekend. I drove The Handsome Prince and his boyfriend The Math Whiz out to the coast in my car. THP and I sang "I'll Cover You" from RENT all the way there. The Math Whiz prefers the song "Seasons of Love," but he has a problem with the words, "525,600 minutes..." His problem is that he does not think 525,600 is a real number. He's so pretty.
Anyway, we arrived at the beach and BoBo came out to carry my bags inside. "You're sleeping with me," he said. The Handsome Prince wouldn't hear of it. "My boyfriend and I already have dibs on Toddy," shouted THP. Suddenly, Apollo's car screeched into the driveway. He jumped out and shouted, "DIBS ON SLEEPING WITH TODD!"
It was a mess. People were pulling hair and fighting to stake claims on my body. I calmly looked at the rioting mob and said, "We'll see. I haven't made my decision yet."
Once inside the beach house, I saw that BoBo had declared the entire weekend a Vegetarian Weekend. The table was spread with all my favorites, and there was not one dead animal carcass to be found. It made THP cry a bit, because he grew up on a cattle ranch in Eastern Oregon and needs to see his food slaughtered before he eats it. I offered to slam my garden burger violently against the wall before eating it, which seemed to placate him.
Everybody was drinking ridiculous amounts of liquor. They kept trying to offer me whiskey, but I stuck to my usual mineral water with lime. After we had dinner everyone was so drunk. It was sloppy and disgusting to me. At one point I was sitting on the sofa re-reading "The Night We Met" for the fourth time when the boys came up and started trying to give me lap dances. BoBo, who just gave himself a big raise, kept thrusting hundred dollar bills into my hands begging me to tip the dancers. I gave out as much money as I could, but he was handing me money faster than I could spend it, so I had to pocket at least a dozen of the bills. (I counted when I got home and somehow ended up with $3700).
After about an hour of fighting off gyrating sweaty naked guys, I needed some peace and quiet. I
Ahead of me I could see two figures grappling on the beach. I had chanced upon a some sort of sporting competition by moonlight. Two shirtless men wearing jock straps were rolling around in the sand. One was very muscular, and the other was very buff. "Hey, do you wanna wrestle," asked the muscular gentleman. "Oh, I don't know. I usually wrestle nude," I answered. "No problem, man," replied the buff one. I wrestled the guys for an hour or two and am proud to say that I was victorious. (I lost to both of them!)
I walked back to BoBo's feeling a bit chafed and wearing a big smile. Inside the house most of the boys had passed out from the evils of drink. I sipped a glass of water, did some push-ups and, after ordering several people out of my bed, had sex with the most sober of the remaining three guys and fell fast asleep.
The next morning (Saturday) after I ran along the coast, I came back inside and made breakfast for everyone. I prepared mango blintzes and veggie omelettes with fresh-squeezed orange juice because I didn't have time for anything elaborate. I was singing "Toxic" when a smattering of applause erupted behind me. Balancing my hot coffee cake (from scratch) on a plate held high over my head, I looked over my shoulder to see the boys smiling at me and clapping for my song. They looked so cute standing shirtless in their drawstring pants. We all sat down and began to eat. I beamed as I looked around the table at the boys enjoying my food. As I sat between Balloon Boy and Apollo, I rested my hands on their crotches and thought about how lucky I am to have such great friends.
We spent most of Saturday in the sun, but I didn't have much time to just relax. The boys kept running up to me asking me to slather suntan lotion on their bodies. Then beach boys I didn't even know were handing me bottles of lotion to apply on their hard firm bodies. A line quickly formed, and in order to save time and keep up with the crowd I simply applied the lotion to my own body first and just embraced each guy from the front and back. Still, the line did not diminish. It was at that point I realized I was being duped. Immediately after receiving their lotion hugs, the guys were running right into the ocean to wash off. They would then return to me for another application. I had to put a stop to that kind of nonsense, and two hours later I told them, "that's enough!"
Exhausted from my greasy afternoon in the sun with half-naked guys, I went inside to rest up for the big Saturday night party. After The Handsome Prince and his boyfriend massaged my aching body, I fell asleep. When I awoke, it was party time. BoBo had tried to make macaroni and cheese, but he had made a mess of it as usual. (I don't know how many times I have to tell him to boil the macaroni first). So I whipped up some incredibly fancy vegetarian dish (I forget the name) and we went outside and fed it to everybody. I got to meet BoBo's neighbor, Boy4Ever, and also met the 20+ guys accompanying him. Suddenly, a man emerged from the throng of guys and walked towards me smiling.
He had crystal blue eyes and blonde hair. Or he was Asian or a bodybuilder. Doesn't matter. In his hand he held a picture of me. I recognized it as the headshot (now laminated) from the poster in the theatre lobby.
The beautiful blonde or Asian or bodybuilder said to me, "I have been waiting to meet you. Will you sign my photo?"
"I don't have a pen on me," I replied meekly as the moonlight shone upon my bronzed skin and streaked blonde hair.
"I have one in my hotel suite, which overlooks the ocean. It is on the small side table next to the jacuzzi on the balcony," he answered.
I signed his photograph and had a wonderful evening with him in the jacuzzi. He wanted to hear all about my blog and about my performances. As we held each other and kissed each other, I almost forgot everything else. I almost forget about the rest of my friends sitting on the beach drawing straws over who would get to sleep with me. I almost forgot about the wrestling guys who wanted a rematch. I almost forgot to give The Handsome Prince his medication so that he wouldn't stick his finger or other body parts into electrical sockets.
"I can't stay. Too many people need me," I told the blonde/Asian/bodybuilder.
"I understand, but I will be here waiting for you," he answered. "Go back to your friends, but you must join me later. And then I will take you to Paris/Stockholm/Melbourne/Tokyo/Cleveland with me and we will live happily ever after," he said as he kissed me softly. At that moment fireworks erupted overhead. The sky flashed with red and blue and gold, and then I decided to stay with him. "Fuck my friends," I told him.
Only I didn't say "my friends".
Happy Fourth of July, everyone. God Bless America. Next year I will be celebrating with Sven/Jin Lee/The Rock.