Very Merry X-Mas

For the last two Christmases, we were over to B's for the most over the top dinner party replete with a 3 course menu- 6 beuatiful desserts. You can see from B's tree that is he one serious Christmas man. Why is a party full of gay men always so much more fun than a party full of straight men? It just always is.

apple thief in the bushes

Planting fruit trees in the front entry way is one of the best ways to welcome your guests. Who doesn't feel good looking at a tree full of apples. But recently I've had a spate of unsolicited visitors- bible thumpers to political activists.

Saturday Night Life Woohoo

I had been listening to Two Gallants without any idea of what they looked like so I was taken aback to go to a concert given by Doogie Howser and a faceless dude. They were undeniably talent. They didn't need their opening act Blitzen Trapper with their silly 6 man band and excessive sound effects to show that just two gallants could produce powerful sound- even better live than recorded. I kept worrying Doogie Howser wasn't hydrating himself while the drummer appeared to be wisely swigging his water bottle.

Baked Kind of Weekend

Clees baked a beautiful apple pie to celebrate our domesticity. Of course June is the original pie queen- adding a dough heart, but Clees can bake it up too. And then Horia our neighbor came by with plateful of cookies to celebrate the end of Ramadan. I gave her handfuls of lemons.

I own one pair of shorts and I put them on today to bicycle to Fourth Street to get a few chocolate bars. It's nice to have quiet moments to yourself even if only banalities shuffle through your mind.

Tarantula Hike

Pete, Narda, me and C all crammed into Gaylord's hatchback to motor over to Mitchell Canyon. Them male tarantulas are out for their mating hunt. I decided against trying to touch one- it's a kind of harassment I think.

Dipping aToe in Bass Lake

Hukleberry Preserve

Clees and I poached a few huckleberries on a warm Sunday afternoon. It's an intimate hike squeezed in by the huckleberry bushes and the bay laurels.

Afterwards, we scrounged together all the cash in our pockets to get a bowl of ice cream at ici. I felt like a kid with only five bucks and change in my sweaty hands waiting in line- regretful C and I could only share a three scoop. Even with exotic offerings like basil icecream, C wanted malted vanilla chocolate chip and chocolate hazelnut. After much negotiation, C conceded to a scoop of honey saffron, chicory, and the malted vanilla.

last saturday in July

What to do when a perfectly good month is about to expire? Run to the candy store with Sof of course. Actually I was on a serious licorice fact finding mission to Miette Confiserie. I got fourteen different kinds of licorice, some on the verge of edibility with intense salty anise flavors. I am hooked. The Dutch Double Zout is a doubly salted marvel. Ms. Sof is not for licorice but I know who is!

We were noodling around and ran into the Asian Art Museum to balance out the sugar. It was a surprisingly enjoyable experience; AAM had the obligatory wall of buddhas and jade carvings but also quirky gems like the Sikh battle helmet which I am always keen to capture.

photo woes

Now that Yahoo is discontinuing their photo site, I'm in a pickle since I don't want to have to pay for flickr premium. When did Yahoo go from a cool internet startup to an evil corporate has-been...

I took Clees on a surprise date for these lovely cream puffs.

Missing Bun

Clees and I had gone to Ranch 99 to buy some last minute shrimp and crab. As is the case after every weight lifting class, I was itching for a treat. While waiting in line, Clees encouraged me to go over to Sheng Kee and get me a pineapple bun. In my hand I only had three crumbled dollars plus change. He said sheepishly, "I'm dying for a boba milk coffee." Since he said he planned to work all night, I went straight past the bakery to the teahouse him a boba treat. I love my husband and how else to show this loving when you only have enough cash for one thing.

Anyhow Clees is off to Albany Bowl to hang out with the bros. Where is my bun!

Clees is a breakfast genius.

Even when Clees is in the doghouse, I am always all smiles when he fries up some prosciutto with a fresh laid egg. My all time favorite is his sourdough French toast. Since Clees has been away in New York for a week, I've been eking by with random fruit. But a lazy Saturday morning deserves more than that. I dipped some stale Acme sourdough round slices in a egg and milk batter and voila. The egg creates a barrier to steam the bread inside and becomes soft and chewy again. Uhhaha, I've got one of Clees's secrets.

Hun-fifty Situps

After three sorry accidents to both knees, I vowed only to exercise my upper body during weight lifting class. For whatever reason, something got into my head to do a hundred sit-ups but I ended up doing 150. When C told Dustin about it, he got all riled up, looked at his belly and vowed to eat only one slice pizza for lunch. When we motored over to Gioa for lunch, D broke down and went for two slices. I say eat more exercise more.

Gay for Wallace Stevens

Clees kept making fun of me all week, saying how I am "gay for poetry" every five years. It's true. A poem can carry you above the clouds all day long if you are that kind of guy and I am that kind of guy. You can read a thousand poems and not feel anything, but you only need just one poem to hit you over the head.

I almost have Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird memorized. Clees who is not gay for poetry keeps refusing an impromptu recital. I feel just like Grover going about asking, "Did anyone order a poem. A poem about blackbirds?"

national poetry month

In celebration of National Poetry Month, I've put below my favorite.

Ode to Socks by Pablo Neruda
Maru Mori brought me
a pair
of socks
that she knit with her
shepherd's hands.

Two socks as soft
as rabbit fur.

I thrust my feet
inside them
as if they were
two
little boxes
knit
from threads
of sunset
and sheepskin.

My feet were
two woolen
fish
in those outrageous socks,
two gangly,
sea blue sharks
impaled
on a golden thread,
two giant blackbirds,
two cannons:

thus
were my feet
honored
by
those
heavenly
socks.

They were
so beautiful
I found my feet
unlovable
for the very first time,
like two crusty old
firemen, firemen
unworthy
of that embroidered
fire,
those incandescent
socks.

Nevertheless
I fought
the sharp temptation
to put them away
the way schoolboys
put
fireflies in a bottle,
the way scholars
hoard
holy writ.

I fought
the mad urge
to lock them
in a golden
cage
and feed them birdseed
and morsels of pink melon
every day.

Like jungle
explorers
who deliver a young deer
of the rarest species
to the roasting spit
then wolf it down
in shame,
I stretched
my feet forward
and pulled on
those
gorgeous
socks,
and over them
my shoes.

So this is
the moral of my ode:
beauty is beauty
twice over
and good things are doubly
good
when you're talking
about
a pair of wool
socks
in the dead of winter.

The Freer Jami

In a rare reprieve from Auntie Diaper Duty, Hugo took me to see a few pages of the Haft Awrang at the Freer Gallery. After days of enforced Elmo and Baby Einstein, I almost cried seeing these exquisitely painted folios.

Anyway I got all inspired to start the wikipedia entry on Haft Awrang and upload a bunch of carefully cropped closeups to the wikimedia.

Lifting Up

Clees and I are happily enrolled in a low key weight lifting class at Albany High School on Tuesday and Thursday nights. The dude in charge of the weightroom, Darryl is straight out of SouthPark. With his tight tight curls and sunglasses glued on to his head, he showed us all the Nautilus machines on the first day. I'd never seen someone do a benchpress with sunglasses which didn't wiggle once on in the 120 pounds he heaved up.

D goes around and saying "Are you feeling it? Yeah." I guess you're suppose to be feeling it when you are pumping properly. One night he was too sleepy and too tired to lift. He kept taking off and putting back his sunglasses repeating, "I'm just not feeling it, I'm just not feeling it."

Happy New Year Everybody

Every year I stumble with too many ambitious plans so last year I resolved just to enjoy myself. Indeed I remember many happy times last year as I just followed the Hugo protocol- mostly sitting back and letting delicious foods come to you. I should try a little harder this year and so I came up with

1. Eat more pie. (Already ahead on this one as Steve gave me his pecan chocolate pie, and I'm making oyster pie for dinner.)
2. Use more lotion.
3. Make more people laugh. Uga uga.