Sunday, January 25, 2009



Within easy walking distance, in WeHo (West Hollywood), is an IHOP! Of course I had to drag us there. In SF, there is one IHOP, which is about a 45 min trip from my house. My college days have forever left a soft spot for IHOP in my heart. I think I may have started the conversion process for Shane.

In addition to the easily accessible IHOP, there is also a Trader Joe's and 24 Hour Fitness in WeHo. Were I ever to move there, all of my needs would be centralized to a three block radius. Could you possibly ask for more?

In WeHo, there is also the famous Pink Berry, a local frozen yogurt chain, at which the venerable Lindsay-Paris-etc's have been spotted by paparazzis proving that they are just like "us". The yogurt was good. The pomegranate mix-ins better. There is an even better frozen yogurt place in SF just south of Bloomingdale's.


We spent the rest of the day take a car tour of L.A.

We went to the Pueblo downtown, where for 85 cents I was able to practice my Spanish and take a trip down memory lane with Limon 7 and a tamarind candy.

For those of you who grew up Latino or in Southern California in the 90's, you know exactly what I am talking about.

I took two licks of each and wondered why on earth I ever wanted to torture my taste buds or my gut so badly.

We ended our tour at the Los Angeles Observatory. It was breath-taking. I am hoping Dawn posts the pictures she took on Facebook. You could see the whole twinkling city of Los Angeles all the way out to the sea. Every color in the rainbow was elegantly represented in the landscape and the sky.

I was also astounded by the incredible throng of people there! Families and couples and students all milling to the top of this mountain for an educational experience and an opportunity to witness natural beauty. It renewed my faith in humanity a bit.

I was, however, very irked by a few of the looks Shane and I received. We held hands a few times and put our arms around each other as we admired the sunset. One woman openly stared wide-eyed. It made me angry. Why should me pursuing a simple happiness be a radical political statement?? It was an unconscious gesture of affection, an extension of myself and Shane. I looked over the terrace and spotted a straight couple in far more amorous behavior. No one batted an eye lash.

It will be a wonderful day when the dream which started our nation will be at last fully realized, that people will be free to pursue their peace and happiness in an environment of mutual respect and protection without the false sense of need to foist upon others our personal dogmas. This goes for the godless liberals as well as the heartless pious.

In any case, if you are in the L.A. area, I strongly recommend going to the Observatory. I can't believe I never went as a child. It is a beautiful, panoramic view, and the architecture is really wonderful. I was particularly captivated by an interior dome mural.

Electric Karma
I am still searching for Indian food in San Francisco to match the Bombay House of Provo, UT. In the meantime, I have found Electric Karma in West Hollywood. To quote an annoyingly ubiquitous television figure: "Yum-O!"

Also captivating were the Indian music videos projected onto the rear wall. I paid scant attention to the dinner conversation as I was spell bound by the beautiful women, the elaborate, cheerful choreographies, and the hopeless cheese. It was like Bollywood and United Colors of Benneton slept together and had a shared wet dream.

My House

Of course no visit to glamorous gay Hollywood is complete without attending a hot, new club opening. Which is how, after a quick stop over at a gay producer's swank fag-stag pad, we ended up in line for the opening of My House--a club which was anything but homey.

Vast and multi-level, with a semi-outdoor courtyard about about 6 bars, My House was quickly filled with the creme-de-la creme . . . ahem of aspiring, gay Hollywood networkers. For a brief while, the electricity in the air was intoxicating, invoking my competitive spirit, and inviting me to new grounds to try and conquer in this glossy, yet surely challenging battlefield. After a while, though, the mousse and spray-tans seemed to approach the absurd and it lost some its luster.

Nonetheless, it was fun. By now, I had also finally taken to action a note from the lesson book of Brandon and brought some ear plugs along to the club. I may be an old fart, but at least I will be an old fart who can hear. Clubs in general are way too loud, and the ones in WeHo seem to be vying for the honor of who can cause spontaneous ejaculation through sound wave stimulation alone. I, for one, know I felt the bass rattling my rib cage more than once.

It was in this club, in one of the lounges, exhausted from several days of partying, that Shane proposed we finally make honest men out of each other and call this thing official. Since we have been acting like exclusive boyfriends for awhile anyway, and since that has felt easy and natural, I said "yes." So I now have a boyfriend again, at a time when I really wasn't expecting it.

I am delighted, of course. It just feels nice to be connected to Shane and it brings a smile to my face when I think about it. The more time we spend together, the more we get know one another, the better we seem to fit. We grow increasingly comfortable with each other, and I have strong hopes things will go well. Much remains to be seen, but for now, we can at least proceed with certain questions answered and focus on more important things--like who gets the remote.

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