Tuesday, October 21, 2003

I'm over here.

What an... interesting, always interesting, past 48 hours or so. If I back it up to about 72 hours, it included a hot three-way, but I'm not doing that, so it doesn't. And now, wouldn't it figure, the damned monogamy question is looming, potentially on my horizon. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I now feel pretty comfortable referring to Travis (5th paragraph) as the new boyfriend. I'm often afraid that if I put to fine a point on such things too quickly I'll end up sabotaging them, but I'm fairly sure that's not the case here. He's not the slut I am (which is where that monogamy issue may come up in the future), and in fact, isn't like me in a number of ways, but that's good. Our differences honestly seem to compliment each other. No, we're not wearing rings or anything like that, but I enjoy his company, he seems to enjoy mine, and the more time I spend with Travis, the more I like him. And though I'm sure it will shock a number of people reading (are you sitting down? Are you?), we still haven't had sex. It's funny: I'll jump in bed with someone I've just (barely) met, but when it comes to someone I really like, I wait. I never claimed to be easily understood, or particularly rational.

Sunday night, Travis called and we went to Village Inn for dinner. I've never had bad food there, nor bad service (I swear, they employ some yummy-looking faggots as waiters there), and Sunday was no exception. Except that Sunday, my food was bad - as in, food poisoning-bad. As in blowing-chunks bad. Ew. However, I didn't realize that until about 3am. There was much more evening between dinner and, um, its reappearance. We were just kinda driving around when I realized we were heading down Holland Road, and I suggested to Travis that we stop by The Rainbow Cactus (still being fairly new to town, he'd not yet been there, and I hadn't seen one of their Sunday drag shows in some time). So we stopped, and got to talk with Kevin (a/k/a Ms. Kitty Kumere), DJ Airrick, and his paramour Lloyd (a/k/a Vivian's grandma), none of whom I'd seen in some time (Kevin eloquently pointed out, "Well, bitch, if you'd ever come out [to the clubs], you'd see people!"). Naomi Black was headlining the show Sunday night, and she looked great; she's lost a ton of weight and can do her Janet moves again. She's one fierce diva.

We left the Cactus about 1am, which is when the real fun began: Travis had locked his keys in his car. We called a coworker of his, who had a lock-picking kit. He couldn't get in the car. Travis's house keys were, of course, on the same keychain with his car keys. Then we went to his place, but his coworker couldn't get that lock open, either. Around that time was when my country-fried steak skillet decided to say hello again, which is always fun. We ended up getting a ride back to my place in Norfolk from said coworker, circa 4am. I'm frankly amazed that my lack of gastrointestinal fortitude didn't awaken my roommate. Travis was a doll to take care of me under such circumstances.

Monday proper, after I finally started returning to some semblance of normal, we took a cab from my place to Travis's to go to his rental office and get spare keys. After finally obtaining entrance to his pad (and his spare set of both house and car keys), we then had to call another cab to get back to the car, left in the Rainbow Cactus parking lot and mercifully still there. Then, everything back to the way it should be, we ventured back to his place to watch digital cable (the fact that Whitney Houston is no longer presenting the Local Weather Station truly saddens me) and play with the little baby kitten he found under his car three days ago. It's not more than a couple weeks old, and is appallingly adorable. It's so tiny it can fit in one hand!

To review: food poisoning - keys locked in car - new boyfriend. The good outweighs the bad, trust. Yay, queen!

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