It's year #2 in Denver and L Thomson and my neighbors have come through again. I spent the day eating fantastic food and drinking good wines amongst wonderful conversation. But I learned my lesson from last year - multiple meals with no limitations can lead to a world of hurt. Not this time, my friends, moderation was my mantra even though it was seriously hard. William, that butternut squash soup and stuffing was the bomb. Kudos to you, you get the Golden Turkey Baster award this year.
I ended the evening at a place called Charlie Brown's. Ummm adventure, would be a good way to describe it. The place is reminiscent of a smokey (if smoking was still allowed in Denver bars) piano bar, full of men and women who've enjoyed their day and aren't ready to let the good times go. Did I mention it looks like it might be connected to a half way house or home for local transients? Yeah, this place while quaint, has seen better days. Thank goodness it was late and I really enjoyed the cocktails Skip made earlier. Oh yeah, the Golden Martini Shaker goes to mix master Skip - you rock a Peach Bellini my friend!
Our small table grew from 5 to 7 then 10. And while we chose to sing in a tone and volume less like those of our drunken counterparts sing along we did.
In the end I can say I met several lovely boys that night. Three shared with me a meal to end all holiday meals and 2 caused me to blush over beers and whiskey drinks. But you know me, highly successful in friendship cultivation, crap ass at flirting.
So a few hours later I found myself walking out with one arm around my new found friend. Yep...this was more like me, heading home with a boy who's told me I'm beautiful. I smile...then laugh, as he hurls himself ass first into the bushes. This is my life...welcome.
Gobble, Gobble my friends.
**Oh yeah, did you see the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade got Rick rolled??
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
"Sometimes your friends are your family..."
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Veterans, Votes, and Victory
It's Veterans Day and thus ends 3 weeks of insanity in my life. As you all know Veterans Day and the days proceeding it I become PAO on 24 hour call. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my job, I know you all know that. But I really wish restaurants, elementary schools, insurance agents, reporters, and television producers would reach out to our veteran heroes on days other than this esteemed Federal Holiday. I reach out and pitch ways for us to parnter, I beg for their support and coverage of our activities and for one reason or another they're busy, previously engaged, their show is set, or they've filed their story - no room for the VA. OK-OK enough bitching...I know you've all heard me say this a million times before. If only I had their attention the remaining 364 days of the year.
Working non-stop can not squelch my excitment and I know many of you share my feelings. A hearty welcome aboard to the new first family otherwise known as Renegade, Renaissance, Radiance, and Rosebud on Secret Service radio channels. The Obamas are coming to Washington. I believe November 4th was my "where were you when" moment. I was on the couch watching the final moments of his acceptance speech when the tears began to roll. I'm a pessimist, I know it. I have little faith in good things happening just because I want it badly. But this gives me pause.
I remember not being genuine about my feelings to those around me, because of my fears of what could happen, and the reality of what may not. And on the days when I thought I was being too cautious and overly sensitive I'd hear reports of Congressman Murtha proudly stating the citizens of Western Pennsylvania are rednecks, they won't vote for a black man. Reinforcing my fears and shaking my confidence. For every hopeful step I took forward another sent me reeling 5-6-7 backwards. I love the freedom and opportunities I have in this country, but my fears of success and failures based on the color of my skin cloud my actions everyday.
While I know it's incredibly selfish, last Tuesday was not only Barack Obama's moment it was my moment too. It was my sister's moment, as she continues to serve a country that denies her the opportunity to fight along the same soldiers she's trained with for over 14 years because she's a woman and women in combat isn't "right." It was my cousin Kimberly's moment. She's a sucessful architect who I unabashedly brag about designing the Victoria's Secret in Times Square and the W Hotel on Michigan Avenue. But to this day is paid a fraction of what her male counterparts are paid to design grocery store bank kiosks. It was for my father, a man who at one time had a bright future full of potential and opportunity who never hesitated to remind his daughters of theirs.
Our possibilities were but a secret shared with others like us. I remember "The Boys," a group of successful black men working for Monsanto in the 80's. The had a bond unlike any other I'd ever known. They're wives were my second, third, and fourth mothers and their children my brothers and sisters. I knew them by name; Hudie, Ralph, Mike, Clarence...they were my idols, they had it all, they were what I aspired to be. And although they were different, in so many ways, we were all the same.
Tuesday was my Victory day. Tuesday was the start of a what I can still become.
My love to all of you....
Working non-stop can not squelch my excitment and I know many of you share my feelings. A hearty welcome aboard to the new first family otherwise known as Renegade, Renaissance, Radiance, and Rosebud on Secret Service radio channels. The Obamas are coming to Washington. I believe November 4th was my "where were you when" moment. I was on the couch watching the final moments of his acceptance speech when the tears began to roll. I'm a pessimist, I know it. I have little faith in good things happening just because I want it badly. But this gives me pause.
I remember not being genuine about my feelings to those around me, because of my fears of what could happen, and the reality of what may not. And on the days when I thought I was being too cautious and overly sensitive I'd hear reports of Congressman Murtha proudly stating the citizens of Western Pennsylvania are rednecks, they won't vote for a black man. Reinforcing my fears and shaking my confidence. For every hopeful step I took forward another sent me reeling 5-6-7 backwards. I love the freedom and opportunities I have in this country, but my fears of success and failures based on the color of my skin cloud my actions everyday.
While I know it's incredibly selfish, last Tuesday was not only Barack Obama's moment it was my moment too. It was my sister's moment, as she continues to serve a country that denies her the opportunity to fight along the same soldiers she's trained with for over 14 years because she's a woman and women in combat isn't "right." It was my cousin Kimberly's moment. She's a sucessful architect who I unabashedly brag about designing the Victoria's Secret in Times Square and the W Hotel on Michigan Avenue. But to this day is paid a fraction of what her male counterparts are paid to design grocery store bank kiosks. It was for my father, a man who at one time had a bright future full of potential and opportunity who never hesitated to remind his daughters of theirs.
Our possibilities were but a secret shared with others like us. I remember "The Boys," a group of successful black men working for Monsanto in the 80's. The had a bond unlike any other I'd ever known. They're wives were my second, third, and fourth mothers and their children my brothers and sisters. I knew them by name; Hudie, Ralph, Mike, Clarence...they were my idols, they had it all, they were what I aspired to be. And although they were different, in so many ways, we were all the same.
Tuesday was my Victory day. Tuesday was the start of a what I can still become.
My love to all of you....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)