I woke up at 4 AM to David plodding through the kitchen, spraying Febreze everywhere, and muttering. Then I fell back to sleep, to wake up again around 9. I don't remember exactly when it was. I got up to weigh myself and write in my diet blog, after which David and I got into an argument about use of the kitchen in the middle of the night.
The argument began as a simple question, whether it would be possible for him to do such kitchenly activities at a later hour. He insisted that he had to do it then, and he was being quiet. I said that however quiet it was it woke me up, which no other person in the house does. He repeated himself (something to the effect of, I was being quiet and I need to do it), and through my rage of frustration I said calmly that we'd better reconsider our concert at the end of the month, and he said that was a good idea.
It might seem punitive on my part, punishing him for being loud by not playing in his concert. But I see it thus: he is self-concerned to the point of blindness and is deeply inconsiderate of others. Getting involved on a project with him means that at his whim, I may be put in an uncomfortable position. I'd rather refuse him now than refuse him later. But really I'd rather just get a good night's sleep. (Tomorrow's post will speak to that some more, unfortunately.)
I then made some coffee and tried some of David's stew, which was unfortunately not nearly as tasty as his last batch. For the next few hours I did nothing but stand in the kitchen, nibbling on food, clicking around Facebook and OkCupid, but primarily catching up on crossword puzzles. I think I finished three or four of them. In the background, Ambrose watched olympics and commented on swimmers' bulges.
During the puzzling I was sending a few messages to Rose (OkCupid: lichenandmoss), finally revealing that I wouldn't be in SF for much longer. I brought my laptop back to my room and noticed she was online, so we started chatting. It was a great chat, and I think we're going to meet for a valedictory talk about the directions of our lives in the next few years. Anyone who wants to do something like that is pretty darn cool in my book.
Actually, no, this all happened after I went grocery shopping, I think. We were slow-messaging before shopping, then I went shopping, then I saw her online, then we chatted. Okay.
So I took a nice walk to Falletti's. First bought some cashews and pistachios at Nabila's and munched while I walked. Did pull-ups and such at the park on the corner, then took my shirt off and walked in the sun. Grocery shopping is such a liberating feeling. I bought beans at Peet's, giving my free cup of coffee to a strange old Asian man, then bought lots of veggies and some pork chops. Walked back, eating two cheese bites, and doing more upper body exercise.
I came back inside, put away the groceries, and had the chat with Rose. Printed out the puzzle, and turned on some jazz while I prepared dinner for me and Mason. Steamed and seasoned the Brussels sprouts and onions, diced the melon and whipped the cream. In the meantime Ambrose and I chatted idly and I watched him cook his delicious food and rave about himself.
Mason arrived soon thereafter. I fried up the pork chops with rosemary (forgetting the garlic yet again) and the veggies, we filled up our plates, and went out to the garden. In the meantime Ambrose was making lots of gay comments. The pork chops were overdone, and sad to say the dessert was also a bit of a disaster, because in no time at all the freezer had done its job and frozen the fruit and whipped cream solid. Oh well.
We put our dishes away and went to Two Sisters for a drink (he had a chamomile Old Fashioned, I had club soda and lime) and talked about his new girl situation. Much discussion of the friend zone. Then we went to Place Pigalle for another drink (he had a 90 Minute IPA, I had club soda and lime) and played backgammon. What fun! Several rounds were played, and the final score was 12–0. The moral of the story is that Mason is not very good yet at knowing how to use the doubling cube.
We came back to my place, where Mason picked up his stuff and left. In the meantime all the gays were watching a gay movie: a movie about homosexuality and not, from what I could tell, anything else. I find it hard to imagine the existence of a movie whose main emphasis is the fact that the genders of the leading couple are distinct, but apparently having these genders be the same is reason enough to make a film. I long for the day when we have a movie like Mission: Impossible, but the main star (male) happens to make out with the hot dude, not the hot chick, and no mention is made of it by any of the other characters. Just like in real life, where the similarity or difference of gender of two people kissing does not really warrant commentary.
Anyway, I got ready for bed, texted Apurva about today, turned on some Phil Hendrie, and went to sleep.
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