Tuesday, August 15, 2006 | by nathan

büz

Was up until almost three in the morning writing. I wrote three 1,500-word pieces, and one 3,500-word. Thank the Lord for the Weatherford, Okla. school district that made third graders in 1988 take typing lessons.

Am working a full day today instead of my usual five-hour shift, and of course it’s the craziest day here in awhile. Deadlines, things needing to be said diplomatically and yet which are urgent, and the whole lot of us very headless-chicken like.

So in two hours I’m going to go home, pouring a stiff drink, and rest. Maybe it will storm again so I can play the Gary England Drinking Game.

Monday, August 7, 2006 | by nathan

Eleventy Billion Miles Away

The wedding and accompanying bacchanalia went off more or less without a hitch, except for the typical drama. Most of this - as usual - was caused by people who simply could not fathom that Erica and Alex’s wedding day was in no way at all about them, though one interesting little thing happened with someone randomly switching sexual orientations all of a sudden. But, ah well.

(and no, you don’t get to hear that story).

Anyway - the whole experience of last week is turning into a rather nice piece of writing, which I think may announce my return to QAF sometime in the very, very near future, provided this one good piece of writing does not turn out to be some weird anomaly.

And so, in the interest of keeping my readers over there, I won’t tell most of the story, except to share this little flip book below. See, the day of the wedding Brian and I stopped by our neighborhood liquor store, where I bought, among other things, four tiny little bottles of Hpnotiq.

Hpnotiq, for those who are not in the know, is among the ghettoest liquors there are. It is a blend of vodka, fruit infusions, and cognac, and it is very popular amongst the unclassy. Unfortunately, Chambers, Erica, Laurie and I happen to love it - in small doses - and so I thought the four of us should have our own little private toast during the reception.

The reception was at a country club, so there was the whole sneaking it in thing I had to do, but the whole shebang went off without a hitch and absolutely provided me my four favorite photos from the whole event:

There are a ton more photos over at my Flickr page, and I’ll let you know when the new essay is up over at GCN.  

Saturday, July 15, 2006 | by nathan

D and E

I am headed to Dallas this morning for Erica’s bachelorette party. I am one of three drivers, and will be shuttling Laurie, Chambers, Alex’s cousin Amy, and Erica’s sister-in-law Anitra.

Should be fun. Getting crunktified in Dallas is always fun, and from what I am to understand, there will be karaoke. And beer, lots of beer. Rivers of it winding my way.

Should be fun. Pictures will be forthcoming. If you’re in the Big D and you want to come join us you’re welcome. We’ll be at the Wyndham, laying by the pool, ha-ha-having a cool refreshing beer.

Or two.

Saturday, July 8, 2006 | by nathan

Dispatches From The Allergy Clinic

Weird health things today; I feel very strange.

We had another round of drunk Nintendo last night; Super Mario World, Mario Kart, and Yoshi’s Island. Woodchuck Cider, Abita Wheat, and Pyramid Apricot Ale.

Today, a little hungover.

I’ve had fast food three times this week; I feel like ass. Also, my allergies are going nuts; I think it’s the Taco Bueno and McDonald’s. I forgot that fast food does this to people. Ugh.

Did you know that I like to listen to audiobooks, especially when I work in the garden, or take long drives? I do. I gave myself a membership to Audible.com for Christmas and I have listened to several interesting books over the last six or seven months.

I just finished Mary Cheney’s autobiography last week; it took forever because it was horrible. Really the whole book is the story of her father, of his life, and his campaign; it is an answer to Dick Cheney’s critics more than anything, and the last several chapters are mostly just very unkind, very politicized criticisms of John Kerry and John Edwards. No wonder the book flopped.

So now I’m listening to something much better: Anderson Cooper’s new book, Dispatches From The Edge. I have always had a lot of respect for Anderson, but now - now I’m developing a full-on Man Crush. Despite the rumors, and the fact that a friend of Brian’s claims to have a pair of his underwear, I can honestly say I get no read on his homo-ness one way or the other. But from listening to the book, I don’t care. The guy’s a badass. The whole thing is a narrative of his life as told through his experiences reporting from disaster zones and wars around the world. Okay, so the book is kind of self-indulgent from time to time, but Andy genuinely has a flair for storytelling. And it’s great hearing it in his own voice rather than reading it off a page.

It makes me wish I had the means to take off into the war-torn, disaster-ravaged, poverty-stricken parts of the world with a camera. But since I want to finish school, and get my student loans paid off as soon as humanly possible, and - oh yeah - I’m getting married in September to the best man in History, I’ll stay here. But the book is fun to listen to; when I leave here I’m going home to work in the yard and listen to more of Andy’s sexy, sexy voice.  

Saturday, June 10, 2006 | by nathan

Deja Vodka

Is it 2003 again? Is that why I woke up with a vodka-and-beer hangover? Oh, wait, no - if it was 2003 or 2004 again, the hangover would be from McCormick’s vodka and the cheap beer from the Copa beer bust - beer that tastes like someone put a cigarette out in the keg.

As it is, it’s 2006, and last night it was Three Olives, which I had never tried and was fairly good for the price - better than Skyy anyway, but what isn’t? - and Boulevard Zon, which is their summer seasonal, a kind of an interesting twist on a Belgian White. It’s going away again after August, so I highly recommend that you beer lovers try it.  

Last night Bri made stir fry, which was delicious. We watched Bringing Down the House and had a couple drinks. We tried going to the Copa for some club action, but it was dead. Instead we came home and had a few more drinks and played this:

The thing about Nintendo? It just gets more fun the drunker you are.

It’s definitely not 2003 or 2004 - I’m not kicking whatever loser I’m dating out of my twin bed. On Monday - or tomorrow - I won’t have to go off to a job that I hate so much that sometimes I have to run in the back room to keep tears out of my eyes. I won’t have to pace around wondering whether or not some boy is going to call me back, and I have absolutely stopped eating Whataburger when drunk. Which is amazing, considering there’s one around the corner from this house, and I’ve never been there. Of course, in 2003 and 2004 I could fit in size 31 pants, but I wouldn’t trade that for what I have now, which is a wonderful man who loves me well, with whom I can play drunken Nintendo and have way more fun than we would’ve at some shitty-ass club anyway.

Monday, May 29, 2006 | by nathan

Date Sunday and Five-Hour Naps

Saturday we spent all day helping Erica and Alex move into their new house. I have helped Erica move more times than I can count - to Stillwater for college, around Stillwater to houses and apartments, back home, and then, of course, when we lived together in Norman - and every time it has been fun. I hate moving myself, but for some reason helping other people do it can be quite enjoyable. Especially when said people make sure to have their brand new refrigerator stocked to the hilt with water and beer.

We sat up with them on their back porch talking about the Dixie Chicks, and Jesus, and why Erica finds Catholicism so confounding. These conversations are helped and hindered by beer.

Brian and I got home around 2:30 and went straight to bed.

Yesterday morning we got up in time for church; I am finding that the more exercise I get the better I can fit into my regular clothes, which makes me happy, and so I felt very excited about getting to dress up just a little - with holes in my jeans, granted - for the service. Robin and his familiy are on their annual summer retreat, and so our service was led by Rabbi Barry Cohen of Temple B’Nai Israel in Oklahoma City. I like anyone who can be a guest minister and pull out all the political stops - Cohen talked about how Oklahoma’s legislators and representatives in Washington are not doing what is best for our state, or our country, and how what they are doing cannot be considered "Christian," or "faith-based" at all because they are tainted with oil money and hold no traces of compassion.

So after a fairly invigorating sermon Bri and I headed to the Paseo Arts Festival, because I was hella-hungry and we had been wanting to go. Also, all that beer from the night before had made me queasy - and the fact that I had helped Erica and Alex polish of a pack of Kools made it twenty times worse. So we ate, and walked around a bit. I love doing things like this with him because he is a wonderful people-watcher. We escaped the heat by hanging out for a bit in Blue Moon on Paseo, but mostly we walked around, eating gyros and mango-flavored Italian ice, holding hands and watching people.

Of course, the heat was exhausting and so we headed home, vaguely thinking we might watch a movie. Five hours later we woke up on the couch. Gotta love a date that involves a five-hour nap.

So as it was evening we decided to find something to make for dinner, settling on the red pepper and artichoke pizzas from the Betty Crocker Healthy Choices cookbook. So we hiked over to the grocery store to get the stuff for them, and then to Blockbuster. We rented Transamerica, Waiting for Guffman (Bri hadn’t seen it), and Happy Endings. 

The sweetest part of the night, for me, was standing in the kitchen, making pizza, listening to Herb Alpert, just being with Brian, being domestic.

At some point in the night I realized that Bri had scotch, but I had nothing to drink. I lamented this for awhile until I realized that I had one more Caffrey’s in the fridge from Jaye and Laurie’s trip to London. And as much as I had been saving it for a "special occasion," after last week when Zach accidentally drank one, I figured I’d better just go ahead and bite the bullet. Also, what better special occasion is there than a sweet night at home with the man you love?

Caffrey’s may be the best beer in existence. It is aromatic like an amber, but creamy and not bitter at all. It gets a perfect head on it when you pour it in a glass, and it doesn’t twist up the back of your throat when you drink it. Anyway, I thought I would memorialize my last glass with a photo:

Sunday, May 21, 2006 | by nathan

I Can Take Jet Lag and Turn It Into Something Much, Much Worse

Friday:

Chambers calls. "I’m coming over." Thirty minutes later I am opening the door, saying, "Oh God, there’s a baritone on my porch," because, just like when he lived with us the summer after we all graduated high school, the first thing I heard was him singing.

We went to Galileo for lunch. Didn’t mean to have a beer whilst there, but I did. This led to us stopping at the friendly neighborhood grocery store - by which I mean liquor store - for a six-pack of Abita Raspberry Wheat and another of Full Sail Pale Ale. Drank margaritas at the casa while those got cold.

We started making phone calls from the front porch. Soon we had solid commitments from Laurie and Erica to come over, and then all of a sudden my little brother pulls up in front of the house, because he had told his girlfriend and their soon-to-be roomie to meet him over here so they could all look for houses together. So where there had been 2 of us, there were now 5.

Bryon and I were inside at one point singing "La Vie Boheme." As the Irish would say, it was great craic.

Brian got home and wasn’t feeling well, so he went to bed. At 5:30 p.m. The Flynns showed up, as did Erica and Alex (God, in 2 and a half months they’ll be "The Hickmans" instead of "Erica Bean and Alex Hickman." Jesus.) At some point we were joined by Lindsey Davidson, another friend from high school, and her fiancee, Zach, who unwittingly drank one of my two remaining cans of Caffrey’s out of the fridge.

I slept almost all day Saturday. I am not 23 anymore; hangovers are no longer funny. 

Saturday night was Family Dinner. Chambers showed up without a voice, as he and Erica had sat up until just past 5 a.m. talking on my front porch (which, incidentally, is where J-Penn, my bro’s roommate, also slept through the whole night). We were joined for dinner - mom grilled out - by The Broylses, a.k.a. KC and David, which was wonderful fun, as we all got to have some really neat discussions about music, and television, and mom’s evil, evil cat.

We had all planned a trip to the lake this weekend with Todd, and so - after two nights of drinking (Friday heavily, Saturday very, very carefully) - we got up at 7:30 this morning to head down to Todd’s house. Chambers called to cancel, as we had worn him completely thin. Here he’d been back from France for something like 66 hours and we had already inebriated him twice and monopolized literally almost all his time. His voice was so gone as to be barely audible.

So we hit Texoma, where we met up with Julian, who moved to Dallas awhile back. We pulled the boat up to a small island, laid out in the sun, watched hot boys, listened to music. After lunch at the marina we walked through the yacht dealership pretending that we were looking seriously; Julian kept saying "I need to start making money." I reminded him that he has not even started law school yet, and that we will all love him if he never has a yacht.

I got a terrible sunburn, but we spent a great afternoon cruising around the lake on Todd’s boat, listening to Yma Sumac and Herb Alpert remixes - and, of course, Robert Miles.

Good times. I am in some serious pain - the first sunburn of the season. Jaye wants to hang out tomorrow, or possibly to go on one of his famous Oklahoma history/geography road trips. I kind of just want to lay on the couch and watch the series finale of Charmed on TiVo. (Yeah, shut up).

Sorry about the rambly nature of this; sunburns hurt. 

Saturday, May 13, 2006 | by nathan

Dallas

I never did talk about mine and Brian’s trip to Dallas a couple weeks ago. Good times. I’ll just hit the highlights.

Stayed at the Belmont Hotel, which is easily one of the coolest hotels I have ever seen. It had the whole 50’s and 60’s mod design thing happening, which is one of the most interesting and cool periods in design in history. Check some pictures:

It had this whole kind of sixties road motel vibe happening. Brian sprung it on me as a surprise - needless to say I was stoked about it, because - well, just look at the pictures. The whole weekend really was kind of just one really enjoyable surprise after another. We spent the evening in Deep Ellum, walking around and looking at things - and people - until we got hungry and headed over to Monica’s for dinner.

It bears saying here that eavesdropping is one of my favorite things to do when I am in a public place. I have actually snagged wonderful snippets of dialogue for stories while doing this, and I think every writer secretly does it. There were a group of gay guys in Monica’s that were an absolute delight to listen to simply because of the fact of the basic vacuousness of their conversation. It reminded me a lot of being out in New York, actually - it seemed like all they were doing was just being hot.

In an interview several years ago Tina Turner was asked about how she stays sexy after sixty years. Her response was something like, "I don’t just sit around my house being sexy in my spare time." These guys in Monica’s - it seemed like maybe that was exactly what they do in their spare time. Just sit around and be hot. Which they were. But you just knew that when they got in the car to leave, they were going to be putting on a Hilary Duff CD.

Anyway. So we went over to Cedar Springs, Dallas’ gay district. We hung out at S4, sitting out on the patio overlooking Cedar Springs, Brian sipping scotch, me working on some Effen black cherry vodka with club soda. I usually do not like flavored vodkas, as the infusion is always too strong, too overpowering. But the Effen has a very understated taste of black cherry. It’s no good with tonic, but near perfect with club soda.

When we were sitting outside some guys came up and began talking to us. We told them that we were celebrating our one-year anniversary the next day - April 30 - which led them to begin asking us drunkenly how we met, and why they should not give up on dating altogether. I was just drunk enough to start going all Oprah on them - it’s a good night at a gay bar when you can make a queen cry.

Later Bri and I watched the drag show for awhile, then headed down to the dance floor when they started playing a kick-ass remix of "Time After Time."

The next morning we had breakfast at Cafe Brazil and watched all the gay and lesbian couples on Cedar Springs, the ones with kids, the ones who were stumbling home from a rough night. We walked down to the gay bookstore, and I let myself dream about book signings and seeing my work on the shelves.

Final stop was Kessler Woods. Kessler Woods is a new housing development near downtown Dallas featuring some very cool architecture. Brian is really into modern architecture and would like to have a home like the ones there someday; the more I look at it the more I see what he sees. Take a look at the site. 

So that was D-town in a nutshell. We FINALLY picked up pot holders and oven mitts at IKEA. I got a lamp for mom for mother’s day but we didn’t stay very long, as we had to get back in time for family dinner at the Flynns’.

Good times. Good times. Good times.  

Sunday, February 26, 2006 | by nathan

Family Dinner

Another successful family dinner.

I got to mom’s late because I was having a bitch of a time getting myself together - losing my wallet and such. But when I got there it was just mom and Laurie, who were getting started on a bottle of Fat Bastard Chardonnay. My wine of choice: Red Truck Chardonnay, which is a wonderful wine - you should try it. That recommendation comes courtesy of Ty, the wine guy at Byron’s Liquor Warehouse.

Mom went all out with dinner. She had found this recipe for a kind of sweet chicken salad in "Food and Wine" magazine, which she had the brilliant idea of wrapping in a pastry to make a kind of pie. It was delicious. Alongside that was asparagus soup and a chocolate pudding pastry with strawberries on top, and iced tea. I mean, I ask you: do I have the best mom ever?

It was delicious; I’m glad I went first in making family dinner, because there is no way to follow this. Good luck to John and Crystal, though.

We watched Drop Dead Gorgeous, which I knew mom would love. General revelry ensued. John and Crystal bought a record player at the thrift store yesterday which they brought over, and mom busted out her box of old 33’s. I almost gave birth when I realized she had an original vinyl copy of Tapestry by Carole King, and was very, very disappointed when we realized that the new $5 record player had no needle. But mom let me have the record, and I almost peed my pants out of love for her. 

Jaye missed out because he had to study but we made a plate for him. Lately I am very, very in love with my family. My half-sister Valerie is coming down next weekend and I am looking forward to taking her and Tom out to lunch and showing them my house. They bought us a $50 Pier One gift card for Christmas, so they are getting the VIP tour.

Tomorrow night is Coldplay in concert, and Brian and I are having dinner at Cafe Nova, which I hope you will all get to see for yourselves soon. But we are still working on that. 

Friday, November 4, 2005 | by nathan

Southern Comfort…is Neither.

We karaoked last night. I threw up when I got home.

This is the problem with knowing the bartender at the Copa: he makes you shots, and doesn’t make you pay for most of them, but in return you must grant him impunity to prepare for you whatever shot he chooses. And last night, it was Southern Comfort, and that is not pretty. This is why I do not drink anything heavier than gin/vodka. Okay, except tequila. And could I sound like more of an alcoholic?

But karaoke - a ball as usual. The DJ was humping chairs, and he thought I looked 29, and Ryan Hinojosa was there and he sang Mariah Carey beautifully. Turns out he’s doing his student teaching at good old Westmoore with good old Ann Dawson. Yahoopity.

One more thing about that night: You know you need to stop drinking when you keep saying this sentence: “Oh.My.God.You.Are.My.New.Best.Friend.”

Other than the mondo hangover, things are shiny. Laurie and Jaye are having a cookout tonight at their house, so there’s that. But I think I will be avoiding the Evil Juice tonight, as my constitution has been severely weakened, and since Brian is still on meds that prevent his drinkage. So I guess he and I are sober sisters.

I ran across my old Live Journal today. I was catching up on the life of my dear, beloved friend Elena and remembered - “Oh, right. I used to write a Live Journal.” So I read through it, beginning to end - May 1, 2002 to November 5, 2002. That was one of the worst, most confusing and horrible times of my life. I graduated Wake with so much pain and anger, came back here and worked at Wal-Mart for a summer (which, apparently, I enjoyed somewhat), and moved to Connecticut, where my life was systematically dismantled by a boy, an Ivy League school, a terrible injury, and the merest hint of Mary Jane.

I posted an update to the LJ, just saying where my web presence is now, and I am amazed at everything that has happened to me in the past three years. I am floored at what God has done: it amounts to some major, major renovations.

Three years ago I was so tweaked, so very, very gone. I was sadder than I knew how to deal with.

Now, here I am, in 2005. I wish me now could talk to me then and tell him everything would be all right. “Hey, you - really, you’re going to do all right. The next couple years are going to be even harder and more magical than you know. Things are going to happen and people are going to come in and out of your life that you never would have been able to dream. The truly amazing thing is that you are going to come through it more or less intact and with a lot - a lot more confidence than you think possible. It will turn out that God is good. Hold on to that.”

That is what I want to tell Nathan on his graduation day from Wake Forest, and as he packed up the back of his truck to move away from Yale, and that whole time in between. He was so sad and lost, that boy, and he stayed that way for quite awhile. But slowly, surely, he keeps getting healthier, and he is trying to remember how very, very loved he is, especially when he is saggy, and cranky, and arrogant, and bitter. He’s been cracked open like a nut, this one, and it has been hard, but it has made him more the person he hopes to someday be.

And to all of you who held my hand back then, and who continue to do so today: Thank You. Thank You. Thank You. In return for all your help, I will leave you with a photo of one of my favoritest Wake Forest photographs, courtesy of Elena Perea, soon to be a Doctor:

This is Thomas Bedington, my sophomore year RA, and Lois Johnson, after whom my freshman dorm was named. And, of course - Sapphire… Seriously, this photo should be on the cover of the Wake Forest info book - the one that they send out to high school seniors. Just every effing year it should be on there.