It was quite a weekend. Party this, dinner that, dance the other thing. Not something to do all the time, but it’s great to R&R yourself to death every now and again. Had a lovely time with Johnny and François at the Faultline on Saturday night. It was so cute to see François’ reaction when he first saw that Johnny had come to see him. He has a gorgeous smile and when those teeth erupt from his severe face it makes you want to run naked through a field of sunflowers. Johnny and I were in full groupie mode because for once he wasn’t the one in the spotlight. We each got a signed photo and shamelessly fawned like schoolgirls at a Shawn Cassidy concert. OK, we weren’t THAT bad. At the end of the evening I insisted on sitting between them in the cab home. For one thing, I knew it was my only shot at a sandwich with them, but more importantly I wasn’t about to sit there and stare out the window as they porned it up on the seat next to me.

Back in the old days when Johnny didn’t know that many people in L.A. he would stay at my crap-hole apartment during his visits here. He would camp out on my couch, fold his laundry in the nude, catch up on BBC sitcoms and generally make himself at home. Johnny didn’t stay with me in my room because I informed him that anyone in my bed was free game as far as my subconscious mind went and our relationship has never been the kind that involved waking up in a fetal embrace. Plus my bed is so old that the weight of two people makes it sag and you end up mashed together all night. Great for newly weds, not so ideal for bosom buddies.

These days Johnny has many options for accommodation and all of them are twice as good as my place in the best of times. Yesterday we met up at his boutique hotel for an overdue meeting. OK, it was a small meeting and a big dinner accompanied by Ab Fab - we’re really, really gay, alright? When it came time to crash, Johnny announced that I had to take the side of the bed with the alarm clock because he didn’t want to deal with my early rising. Until that moment I hadn’t really thought too much about sleeping arrangements. Could I be trusted not to wrangle him into a compromising position, nibble on his ears and leave him in a puddle of tepid drool? Only time would tell.

My mind was already racing with ideas from our lively discussion earlier. Worrying about sleep molesting my little brother sex symbol client that’s more like a plush toy than a porn star to me did little to help my ability to rest. As predicted, I tossed and turned all night; waking up at random intervals to ensure I was still nestled on the precipice of my side of the enormous bed. Seriously, that bed was so big I could have had a luau on my side and he never would have been the wiser. At seven sharp the alarm clock sounded with such fury I was tempted to check for a defibrillator. I gathered my crap and made my way to the office. By the time I arrived, Johnny was already awake and answering e-mail. He wrote and said, “Thanks for last night, u r so quiet, I thought you were still here, i’ll see you soon.”

The moral of the story: Don’t worry, it will work out.

Let me apologize to everyone about the delayed posts this past week. It’s been crazy. Between Ma Hazzard’s visit and the GAYVN awards, Johnny and I have hardly had two minutes of overlapping time. I wouldn’t normally acknowledge a post gap because in my opinion it’s life first, blog second; however, this was an extreme case.

And now on to the business at hand: The 2006 GayVN Awards.

I had braced myself for disappointment. There would have been a riot had Johnny not won “Best Actor” I kid you not. Thankfully he won that as well as “Best Solo” and “Best Duo” sex scenes. That’s right, it was a sweep - baby! And since my company didn’t win a fucking thing, I got to experience the winning bit right from the Channel 1 table. Thank you Steven!

Greg Thompson was shooting pictures of everyone at the party. I told Johnny that it would be best if he got the photos out of the way while he was fresh and still reeling from multiple laps to the awards podium. Then I realized I might as well join in since I was dolled up in awards ceremony mode. It isn’t every day you have an opportunity to be photographed by a world-class photographer WITH the “IT” boy!!

Usually during events such as this I find a quite corner and observe from a distance. That was not an option. I told Johnny we were joined at the hip and we circulated like crazy. It was names, names, names, darling. Bruce Vilanch just had to have his photo taken with Johnny, who was naturally honored to oblige. The entire evening was a click, click, flash, flash situation. Frankly, it’s all a bit of a blur now, but a fabulous one.

I think Johnny decided it was time for a change of venue when he found me dancing by myself in the back bar. He always was the one for timing. I had no idea he was taking me to the after, after party at Chi Chi’s penthouse. And Chi Chi had no idea so many people were going to show up. Let’s see, Chad Hunt was there, David Cooley, Fredrick Ford, Sister Roma, Arpad Miklos, Josh Weston, Kyle Lewis, too many people to remember, really. It was the first time I had a chance to interact with Chi Chi for any length of time. She’s always kept me at a distance. We did have a moment though when “Sweet Transvestite” came on. HOT!

Being at the epicenter of the gay porn world is a little overwhelming. Still, there’s nothing quite like huddling around Chi Chi’s cool flame. It was a great night - a long night. The night that didn’t really end, but that’s a story for another time. Basking in Johnny’s hot glow was quite an experience. We were treated like film stars. Like Eva Gardner and… companion. It took two days to recover and I wouldn’t change a thing if I had the chance. OK, well, maybe I would have taken Friday off…