The last couple of days have been filled with laughter and good memories. I bought Aimie an iPod and spent the day at her house with a friend of ours Kellie, drinking Dortmunder and enjoying an impromptu dinner that I whipped up; sautéed shrimp and Quinoa with sautéed celery, grape tomatoes and celery leaf chiffonade. After dinner I spent an hour filling half of her computer’s memory with my music. After that ordeal and about 3 more beers we thought it time to take some shots for the photo album. And the blog, of course.

Today I picked up Scott from the airport. I took him to a place that Aimie introduced me to called Bar Louie. Tonight they were offering $1 burgers and $2 Great Lakes Beer (Dortmunder!!!!) and I thought I would invite Aimie, Kellie and Ma H for a fun night on me; it would be a cheap date.

I LUHUV Black and Tans so I was salivating to say the least; Black and Tans are Bass or Dortmunder Ale with a top float of Guinness. I thought that because the beers were composed of mostly Great Lakes that it would be 2 bucks, but when the bill came and it was nearly $100! I looked and saw that I was charged the full price of a Black and Tan. Oh well. I’ll know better next time. Anyway, it was money well spent and the burgers were half way decent, too.

I had the best time. I love beer. I love burgers and I love hanging out with these guys.

Last Wednesday I was the guest “star” at a night called “Dirty Deeds” at Fubar in West Hollywood. Usually Chi Chi is the DJ supreme, but this night we had the pleasure of DJ Jastin in her stead. He is in a rock group called Nancy Full Force and was nice enough to bring my single along to play for the crowd. He was going to play it while I was dancing on stage; however, I wasn’t quite ready to “perform” the song. I left the stage and went downstairs to watch the crowd’s reaction from a security camera. It was the very first time I heard my song played to a real crowd over real speakers! I did get one enthusiastic piece of praise from a drunken patron, but since there wasn’t an all-out riot I choose to assume the song was well-received.

Thanksgiving was very low key. I spent the evening with a friend’s family complete with 2 kids. It was very kind of them to have me and the food was tremendous. And I was in bed by nine, so the night was perfect all around.

I spent the weekend with Scott conquering Topanga Canyon and the surrounding areas on an intense uphill hike. I love doing stuff like that. I almost always choose the path least taken when it comes to hiking and so does Scott. We found a tiny footpath up the face of the canyon, crawling on our hands and knees sometimes through brush and over rocks. It was a most enjoyable evening and I was in bed at 8:30 sleeping nearly twelve hours.

It doesn’t get much better.

After a week-long date with Scott that literally spanned the continent, I was off free time and had to start “working.” I must say that the week was incredibly nice. Scott is an adventurous guy with impeccable social skills. Every time we went into a store he would engage the sales person in some sort of dialogue leaving them smiling and completely wooed by Scott’s charm. He took me camping in Joshua Tree, complete with dinner and a moonlit hike up through a massive wall of rock to the top where we sat in a large depression that resembled a bowl. We curled up under the blanket, got high and watched the stars and satellites make their way around us.

I absolutely love to camp; especially with somebody that has all the right equipment and knows how to use it (the camping gear, too). Scott created two marinades, grilled vegetables and chicken breasts all to perfection on an uneven fire on the ground. The meal was completed with s’mores, real bona fide s’mores. It beat any chocolate mousse or souffle that I have had hands down. To amaze me even more he wrapped a loaf of French bread in foil, toasted it as if it had come out of a toaster oven with a timer rigged to his brain. So Cool!

The next morning we finished the bread off with some eggs and strong coffee all prepared over a small flame coming from a little camp burner. I cannot recall the last time somebody cooked for me, it was most enjoyable, 10 points - out of eight.

Before I left Boston for LA we had the hottest days of the summer. While my roommate and friends were complaining of exhaustion and void of any energy, I was charged; laying carpet, cooking, cleaning and designing my t-shirts. That is the weather that my body is supposed to be in, it must be in my Mediterranean genes. Moist heat is glorious to me.

So here is another little amusing story involving faulty memory. To make sure the full effect is administered I must give you the history. I hooked up with this guy a while back when I was still living in Boston full time. It was fine, no fireworks, bells or trombones, but decent. Well I had seen him upon my returning here off and on and I said hi to him every time. Every time I said hi I was met with a smug response that led to me to believe he was a dick; typical stereo type Boston Mofo.

I was not going to back down and I kept saying hello to him and kept getting the same response. Fine. Whateva! Then I met some co-workers out, an old friend had returned from NYC and was working back with all of us at Aquitaine, so the evening was very sentimental since it was the first time I had seen him since he was back. As I walked in to the bar who was my friend sitting with? You got it….the MOFO. I became quite cocky and confrontational. When we were introduced, he acting as if he never met me and I responded with “Good to see you again” “Again? Have we met?”

This cannot be real, is he serious? But he was. I then moved over next to him and began to tell him how we met. His smug look was replaced with a blank stare. It was then that I realized that this was not the man I had slept with. I told him that I thought we had been together and he said that it wasn’t so because he would have surely remembered. Good answer. After ordering another beer and a couple of nervous laughs, I shook it off and asked him for his card.

The last three days were probably the most perfect summer days this season. Unfortunately, it is nearly August and half the summer is now a wet memory. I started this day like most others; with a cup of steamed broccoli and a protein shake before going to the gym. I saw Saya, my dear friend and co worker, there. She is the one with the parents who have the picture perfect house on a pristine lake in New Hampshire. We bump into each other there at that time pretty regularly.

A while back, same place same time, I was working with my trainer when I spotted this guy I had seen years ago when I lived here. Surprisingly he was still looking pretty good. He was jumping rope when I caught him from the back side and well, let’s say he got my attention. I meant to approach him, but he escaped before I had the chance. I returned pretty much every day after that at the same time hoping to catch him and it never happened.

I asked Saya if by chance she knew this guy and whaddya know, she did! She said he was the old roommate of a friend of ours who had moved to NYC. We called our friend immediately to get the goods. He was waiting for a client to arrive and we could only get they guy’s name and job before we were hung up on. His name is Phillip. Armed with this new information I returned to the gym promptly at 10:30 every day thereafter hoping to catch a glimpse.

As the days wore on with no Phil, I began to lose hope and interest. Then today I ran into Saya, same time and place, with that fine piece of man catching my attention and getting me all excited running on the treadmill 15 feet away. I asked Saya if that was him; I had enrolled her in my search, scouting the gym out when I was not there hoping to relay a sighting back to home base. She confirmed my excitement and told me to go introduce myself.

Approaching somebody at the gym is a sensitive subject. One, you do not want to interrupt somebody when they are in full stride, two, what am I going to say to this guy now that he has stopped running 15 mins into his jog and plummeted his heart rate way below the optimum BPM? “Hi. You’re hot. Great ass. I’m Johnny, wanna hang out sometime?” If I were Phil, I would deduct serious points for bad timing and poor gym etiquette. I told Saya that she would have to keep an eye on him since she was doing cardio in the same room.

“If he leaves stop him and come get me.”

“What?” she says “What am I supposed to do if he leaves?”

“Stop him, kick him in the back of the knee, wrestle him to the ground. Be creative, I don’t care. That man is not leaving until I meet him. Tell him that there is somebody who is dying to meet him. That will spark his interest long enough for you to come fetch me, please do this for me!” I begged.

“OK” she replied and I walked back to the mats excited at the prospect of meeting Phillip.

It wasn’t long before I saw Saya scurry past me and I knew she was on her mission. I was doing push ups in the corner so there was no way she would see me. When she ran past me again, I caught her mid way.

“I saw him go into the locker room.”

“Gr88888888888888888888888t” I said. This is the second worst way to meet somebody, when they are naked; it is a really uncomfortable situation. Oh well, this was not getting in my way. Luckily and unfortunately he was not naked. I looked at him and asked ”You’re Phillip, right?” after he looked a little puzzled I told him about our common friend and began to charm the pants off him so to speak.

After some small chat I gave him my number. I do not try to get their number. I figure if I’m the one who stalked them it’s only fair to allow them the freedom to decide whether or not to call. I established my interest so the rest is up to him.

I returned to my workout with new exhilaration and drive. Even if he does not call, just finding him and doing all I could in the situation is enough to satisfy me. Although, a date and a look at him in the buff after a shared bottle of a slightly chilled Julienas wouldn’t be so bad either! Woof!