So, so true.
I spent Friday night composing an e-mail I couldn't send until Saturday morning (so it didn't look like I spend my Friday nights writing e-mails to ex's, which is really what I'm usually doing) thus making me desperate to go balls to the walls for the remainder of the weekend.
I met Sweet Melissa for lunch at Market Bar, where we plotted our takeover of San Francisco. After declining her offer to go to some stangers house and play Rockstar all afternoon, we agreed to meet up later for dinner at the Brians. Dinner at the Brians should really we a weekly television show on public access. Brian makes pastra from scratch and we drink too much.
Fellow guests included Jen L, and Dan and Jen A., who I'd never met before but now I love. Over dinner, I lamented to my old and new friends that I spent the previous night alone spending an hour on a 6 sentance e-mail.
Dan and Jen confessed that they met on Match.com, which prompted Brian to announce my recent (and troublingly inactive) foray into the ungodly world of Catholic Singles. With that, Brian gets up and grabs a laptop, placing an ad for me on Craigslist right then and there. Much to my ammusement and horror, our entire dinner party then poured over the responses.
I am currently enjoying a rare time in my life of having no shame. I mean, Christ. I'm mad no Catholic Singles are responding to my pious posting.
Melissa and I left at 2am for our weekly slumber party and I spent Sunday morning trying to make myself presentable for brunch with Joe's parents as I read my increasingly disgusting Craigslist responses.
I love Joe's parents. And they love me.
Joe and I then headed to Trader Joe's to stock up on Oscar Party supplies. You want to know where everyone in San Francisco is on Sunday afternoon?
Fucking TJ's. The line went all the way to the cheese section.
Because he's another goddamn gorgeous gay.
Soon we were joined by Big Chris, Becky, Alex and Peter, another goddamn gorgeous gay.
I don't know if we even had the Oscars on, we were too busy having a dance and food party. As I go through the pictures, I'm understanding why I feel like such shit right now.
Oh yeah, I forgot about that.
The next thing I know, I pulled out my grandmother's furs. Because no one in that house is gayer than me.
I really truly could not feel more disgusting right now and have vowed to never touch a cocktail again. The only time I've ever felt worse was the morning I called Joe at work and asked, "Did we go to the Redwood Room last night?"
Screw Catholic Singles. I'm sticking my mug up on manhunt...