Bellagio Pool 

Bellagio Lobby 

Back from Lost Wages

We drove over with Mark and Arturo on Saturday morning and since we arrived prior to Bellagio check in time, we went immediately over to the new Wynn Las Vegas Hotel, the ultra-fuh-fuh resort down the street. It's pretty spectacular. It has all the high end details and glamour that it should have. However, after lunching at the buffet ($23.95), doing a spot of gambling (a 5-cent slot machine featuring Steve Wynn, the megalomaniac owner of the hotel!) and strolling with all the other gawkers who can't afford to actually stay there, we all four agreed that we still love Bellagio best. Nobody does it better. So we tossed our ponytails over our shoulders and flounced back home to check in at Bellagio, where we were denied a lake-view room but they put us in the new Spa Tower- a 5 mile walk from the casino but with a private entrance to the pool. Later we went down to the Venetian to dine at Bouchon, out on the lovely 12th floor terrace (who knew?). There, I met the best Trout Almondine ($24) I've ever had the pleasure to encounter. Deevine. But, my Country Pate ($11.75) tasted store-bought. Gambled a bit back at Bellagio, lost.

Sunday
We all went our separate ways this morning. Hector and Mark to the pool, Arturo to play the slots machines downstairs, and I did my "casino ramble", ending up at Caesars Palace where I won $275.00 at a 2-cent Star Wars slot machine. Oh, Daddy! That got my juices flowing, so needless to say I was hovering around slot machines on and off the rest of the day. We did manage to squeeze in a show in the afternoon. A wretched mess called We Will Rock You, which I will now forever refer to as We Will Fuck You. It is supposedly a rock musical, celebrating the music of Queen and Freddie Mercury. But, believe me, Freddie is rolling in his grave. All the singers were great but it was an infantile premise and Hector remarked that it was like watching a high school production. There you have it. Save your $65 and put it in the Star Wars Slot Machine at Caesars Palace. After, we walked up to Mandalay Bay, to the new MIX Lounge on the 65th floor. Incredible views. Back to have dinner at Bellagio, then I went to bed while the others either drank or gambled until God Knows When. From about 2 am on, Mark and Arturo sounded like they were strangling each other with their bare hands but it turns out they were just snoring.

Monday
So much to do on our last day! Lattes in the foyer, a lovely visit to the spa: steam room and a couple of dunks in the cool plunge, long shower. Then we all met and lunched at the Bellagio buffet (on the house, since Arturo spent so much money gambling). After lunch, for our gambling finale, I won $150 twice on two separate machines. Glowing with wealth (me, not them) , we loaded our bags and hit the desert (107 degrees F! 41.6 C!) for our long 5-hour drive home.

Still in London

Lost in the Victoria & Albert Woods

Sunday 5/22/05
Slept the morning away. For lunch, we went around the corner to the small sandwich shop which served delicious baguettes but also served up some heavy attitude as it was run by French people. In a burst of exuberance we decided to walk all the way to the British Museum. 3 hours later we were greeting our old friends the Egyptians, the Rosetta Stone, the glorious Great Court and Reading Room. We had a bit of priceless refreshment upstairs, then slowly wound our way back toward Kensington-St. James' Park, snoop around B. Palace, Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens. For dinner we celebrated Hector's birthday at Zaika, an exquisite Indian restaurant around the corner from the hotel on Kensington High Street. Mark insisted on calling out the chef, which he is wont to do as he is in the business- turns out the chef used to work in LA, knew San Diego well and was a delight to talk to. We all got loaded.

Monday 5/23/05
Slept late again. As we were preparing to leave the hotel, Jim and Chris appeared. Apparently unable to reach us by phone since none of the hotel staff spoke English, they decided to catch us in person in order to make plans for our trip to Bath the next day. That done, they left for Nottingham (where Jim once lived) and we left for the Victoria and Albert Museum. Visited ceramics, glass, jewelry and medieval treasures but my favorite was the installation of fake trees at the entrance.
Later, in our best bibs and tuckers, we taxied off to the Piccadilly Theatre to see Guys and Dolls starring Ewan McGregor! Now I won't become a critic here but I must say I had high hopes but low expectations for this show. It's one of my favorite musicals and it is a difficult show to keep alive. There's no big splashy effects, it just comes down to good old fashioned singing and dancing, and this cast was just great. Ewan sang and danced his little heart out even though he has the dullest role in the show. The show stopper was, of course, Martyn Ellis as Nicely Nicely Johnson. "Sit Down You're Rocking the Boat" literally did stop the show. It was a very fun evening and I hope the run is successful.
After the show we met Jim and Chris at Regency Street, a bar, then walked over to Leicester Square for a boring Italian dinner.

Tuesday 5/24/05
Well, today the six of us did Bath. I love Bath. I wish I'd lived there 40 years ago before all these annoying tourists were crawling all over the place. We first took an open-air bus tour around the outskirts of the city, which I didn't remember seeing last time we were there. Some wonderful neighborhoods and homes tucked in the trees with remarkable views of the city. Every home, of course, costs a billion dollars. After the tour we had lunch at the tiniest place I've ever seen, Sally Lunn's. Six huge Americans were squeezed in upstairs like a bunch of oversized dolls in a dollhouse. We ate like the gluttons we are. Naturally, we toured the Roman Baths, I could do it every time I visit England. Then Bath Abbey, another gem. It's been meticulously restored.

We wandered around the city this time more than we did last time and I was unaware of what a shopper's... um... paradise it is. A bit much for my tastes, with all the shops selling T-shirts and magnets but I suppose one can't expect Bath to stay charming and quaint, they have to make a living, too.

Jim wanted to find the one gay bar (The Tap) mentioned in his gay guide for Bath and, after wandering around for an hour we came across it- boarded up. It didn't look like the kind of place I would want to spend the afternoon, even in it's prime.

After returning to Paddington, we said our farewells to Jim and Chris, they were off to Dublin the next day. Later Mark, Arturo, Hector and I had our Farewell to London dinner at Arcadia, a small Italian place around the corner from the hotel.

Wednesday 5/25/05
A nice surprise this morning- the front desk forgot to charge Hector and I for our upgraded room, quite a savings. (let's see...40 GBP per night = $72.50 x 7 nights = $507.50! Good God!) We quickly tiptoed out the door before they had a chance to realize their mistake.

The Slovak mafia collected us at 830 am for our 1145 am flight to JFK. I don't know why it had to be so damn early when we were the only ones in the car but we dared not argue. We had a $25 airport breakfast, finally got on our plane- same seats, same AIRPLANE as the one we came in on. I know because my seat refused to recline on the incoming flight as well. We even had one of the same evil-tempered stewardesses. Had an uncomfortable 5 hour layover in NYC, then our excruciating 6 hour flight home to San Diego. Exhausting midnight cab ride back to the house, goodbye to Mark and Arturo, I never want to see any of these people again as long as I live.

The Roman Baths, and Mark

Hector & Steve at Bath Abbey

In London

Steve taking break from tourism

Wednesday 5/18/05
Well, the trip was not too bad. We had bulkhead seats so I could stretch out these legs at least. Had a spot of dinner, got a cocktail and 10 mg of Valium in me and I slept most of the way from New York. Once at Heathrow we had to wait an hour for our car service which was run by a bunch of shady Eastern European characters. Finally at the hotel, Thistle Kensington Park, we got checked in and Hector and I decided to pay a bit extra to move from the broom closet into a Premium Executive suite with huge bathroom and small separate dining room, which we converted into the bar. And off to greet the city!
We walked through Hyde Park and caught The Big Bus tour, which dragged us through all the sights. Even though these tours are the height of touristy-ness, Hector and I always do them first when we get to a new place. It's a great way to get your bearings in a new city and after a long flight you don't have to worry about stumbling your way around. We got off at Covent Garden for dinner and by the time we made it back to the hotel, it was lights out.

Thursday 5/19/05
Today we toured the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey and walked all over hell and gone. Later we met Al (going to school in London now) and his bf, Marc, at The Duke of Wellington for a cocktail, had some Chinese nearby, then went to Barcode for a drink. I really liked The Duke of Wellington but Barcode was like every cruise bar the world over-too crowded, too smoky, too noisy. Back to the hotel, stinking like a gay bar.

Friday 5/20/05
Today was Kew Gardens, which I LOVED, except there were people there, foul tourists. Had to cut the visit short, in order to meet Chris & Jim (San Diegans also visiting London) at Harrods. Too crowded to have lunch there but I managed to drop a wad at the Food Halls, then another wad having it shipped back to California. Tea, coffee, cookies and chocolates, same junk I could get at home only this was in a Harrods tin. Then we ate some Italian across the street. Later we returned to the Duke of Wellington, then a bar called Chambers. At 930 pm we rushed out to go to the Ceremony of the Keys at Tower of London. When that was done, we returned to the Duke of W, where we ran into Jim. Chris, apparently, was back at their hotel feeling ill.

Saturday 5/21/05
Wonderful early walk through Kensington Gardens. Funny old Russian lady in a mink coat and jewels with a poodle named Pushkin. After breakfast we met Jim/Chris (now well) at Waterloo for the trip to Windsor. Touring the castle was a treat, but we got drenched by a surprise downpour so we ran into a pub with the impressive name The Carpenter's Arms and gorged ourselves on pub food: meat pies, mashed potatoes, plowman's lunches and shandies. The skies cleared so we hobbled around the little town of Windsor which, other than the castle, seems to be mostly a shopping mall. Caught the train back- this time the proper train, so instead of an hour and a half, it took us 2o minutes to return to Paddington, via Slough, which I was thrilled to experience since it was where The Office took place.
That evening we made the trek to Al's flat in East Dulwich. We took tubes and trains and had to call for updates. When we finally arrived I would not have been surprised if Al had told us we were in France. But he and Marc made us a lovely dinner and we spent a few hours at their place. After dinner we all caught a bus back in to town to go to XXL, a huge bear bar tucked into some shame hole over by London Bridge. This was not just any bear bar but a bear bar with dance floors, a phenomenon unknown in Southern California. Our bears are not fond of dancing. But in London they love it so it was very fun. We stayed until sometime around 3 a.m. Al told us we'd never catch a taxi in that neighborhood at 3 a.m. but we flung ourselves out the door and there was one waiting for us. Home, James!

Innocents Abroad

Welcome to Times Square 

2 Days in Manhattan

Hector, Arturo, Steve, Mark

5/15/05
This trip was really a stopover on the way to London, but we had to come through here anyway- why not enjoy it? Arturo had never been here and it was fun to see it all through his virgin eyes. This was definitely a see the sights visit.
We stayed at the Marriott Righa Royal (W. 54th between 6th and 7th), an all suites hotel, thank you. So there was ample room for H. and me in the fabulously comfortable King Bed and room for Mark and Arturo on the tiny fold-out sofa in the living room. We immediately went for a quick stroll up Fifth Avenue, past our formerly-beloved-now-boarded-up-like-a-condemned-flophouse Plaza Hotel, into Central Park, where we were overwhelmed by twittering birds and frolicking squirrels among all the spring greenery. Standing at the southern edge, looking back toward the Plaza and the Sherry Netherland has to be one of the most beautiful views in the world.
We had a late dinner that night at Trattoria Dell'Arte, across from Carnegie Hall. Walked down to Times Square to see all the idiotic tourists like us gawking at the lights, then came back and went to bed to be ready for our big day in Noo Yark City!

Next day, Monday the 16th, we started early with a Gray Line bus tour all through the city until it deposited us down at Battery Park for a hazy view of the Statue of Liberty. We lunched on street hot dogs. Oddly, every single vendor was out of potato chips. Then over to see ground zero, just an ugly construction sight these days, but across the street we enjoyed going through St Paul's Chapel, NYC's only remaining church built before the Revolutionary War. After hours more wandering through the Village, Chelsea, Soho we ended up back up at the hotel. Later, we met Mark B. and Bill for drinks at One if By Land, then dinner at The Red Cat in Chelsea. Mark and Bill were exhausted from their recent week spent by the pool in Miami so they went home, while the four of us walked down to xl, trendy gay bar. Remember the episode of Sex and the City where the girls go to a gay bar and Miranda runs into her colleague in the unisex bathroom, in front of the urinal/fishtank? This is the bar where it was filmed. One really does pee at the fishtank. After a couple of stiff drinks we stumbled out into the arms of an idling taxi that whisked us to our hotel.

Tuesday morning (5/17), we walked down the street to check on the group of Star Wars geeks that were lined up in front of a theatre, waiting for the movie to open in ANOTHER WEEK. They had tents and rocking chairs and televisions while tons of Japanese news crews hovered about them. Took the subway down to Canal Street to do some shopping and basically killed the whole day walking until we left for JFK to catch our 11pm flight to Heathrow... coach class.

Arturo and Mark on the subway

Weighing the negatives

They're back!

God help us. I really don't know which is more disastrous- having him home in Washington or letting him off the leash to go around insulting the rest of the world.

What are your secrets?

postsecret

from postsecret 

dutiful mom 

our squatter 

Ah, spring!

We raised a family of four hummers (they grow up so fast don't they?) in our pine tree last month and now we have this dove making a home in the cactus pot. What next, squirrels in the attic?

Taos Pueblo

Hector (left), Steve & Moon

El Monte Sagrado

Taos, NM

After a quick breakfast at Tesoro with the boys, Hector and I lit out for Taos. We took the unbelievably gorgeous drive on the High Road, in order to stretch out the anticipation of our stay at El Monte Sagrado. We finally arrived and O My God, it's just fabulous. We checked in and were given a hushed tour of the facilities and then led around the Sacred Circle to our room, titled Geronimo, since it's one of the Native American Suites. Chilled bottle of champagne waiting for us, the fireplace burning, a little gift arrangement of bath accessories. Immediately we decided that 2 nights just wasn't going to cut it. We lolled by the jacuzzi and pool and had a bit of room service with our champagne, and snuggled into our cozy king-sized bed. Nighty-night.

Next morning we had our complimentary breakfast at the restaurant and drove off to our horseback-riding appointment. That was great fun. The stables were run by a young Indian guy, Floyd, and we were joined by Pat, a tourist from New Jersey, so it was the 4 of us on the ride. My horse was named Moon, and she was the largest, so I was terrified at first but after a while she pretended to obey me. I asked Pat if she rode much (hoping she'd be less experienced than me) and she said "oh yes, I ride every chance I get". Not 2 minutes later she asked Floyd which side of the horse she should mount from. Now, excuse me, but if one rides every chance one gets, one knows the answer to that question. So right off I knew I wasn't the least experienced. Sure enough, her horse dragged her through every mesquite bush on the reservation and did whatever the hell it felt like doing... It was very satisfying.

After our ride we drove to a local hangout for lunch, The Pueblo Cafe, then raced back to the hotel so we'd be relaxed in time for our complimentary massages. My masseur was a huge German guy with hands the size of catcher's mitts. I gasped when I saw him. He proceeded to pull and stretch and yank and lift with those ham hands and it was the best massage I've ever had in my life. His name is Alex, ask for him if you go there. Beg for him.

Dinner that night was at the lovely De La Tierra at the resort. For appetizer, I had carpeggio of yak. Paper-thin, paper-taste. Hope it's not the New Thing. And my Angus Steak was a little bit of a letdown too so that was the only bad thing.

Friday I had an incredible Belgian Waffle for breakfast then we drove over to the Taos Pueblo, the remains of the original settlement of the local Indians. It's pretty interesting but it's a big tourist trap and the Indians didn't give a shit if we were there or not. Some are actually still living there at the pueblo so they were going about their business, thank you very much, paleface. We also stopped at the local obligatory Indian Casino, a sad affair with a few dozen slot machines. We lost, as we deserved. Then strolled around the Plaza, which is nowhere near as good as Santa Fe's Plaza and had a mediocre dinner there. The sidewalks were rolled up at 8:30 so we slunk back to our sanctuary.

Saturday morning, another Belgian waffle and we sadly packed our bags to return to Santa Fe. When the valet brought our car around there were two little bags of homemade cookies sitting on the seats. I wept all the way back.

We spent Saturday night in Santa Fe. Sunday, we drove to Albuquerque because I wanted at least to check it out since I'm forever bad-mouthing it so much. Turns out it's not as bad as I've always told people it is, but it's no Santa Fe. We had a good Italian dinner on Nob Hill and stayed at the Marriott. Next morning, caught our planes: Hector to work in Dallas, me to San Diego. Glad to be home.

Bandelier

Sanctuario de Chimayo

Crutches

Santa Fe, NM

Yesterday Hector and I arrived in Albuquerque around 1:30 and were up in Santa Fe by 3. Since Kent and Bob weren't home yet we had a little lunch at the Plaza Cafe, did a stroll 'round the Plaza, then met the boys over at their house. Kent had rehearsal last night (he's directing an obscure musical that I saw the premier of in LA in the late 1970's... um... when I was two.) Bob and H. and I had a cheese/cracker/fruit and guacamole snack for dinner then we went to bed early.

Today, we arose all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and, after a delicious breakfast with Kent at Pasqual's, H. and I left early for a hike at Bandelier National Park. It was delightful weather, all sunny and warm. Not too many tourists. No snakes this time. But we did see a slutty-looking lady walking along the trail in STILETTO heels. We hiked around 5 miles in our ECCO HIKING BOOTS. The streams were gushing from all the rain this season and the park rangers were downright giddy.

We drove over to Chimayo because Kent wanted us to take some photos of the Sanctuario de Chimayo because his production company is shooting something there soon. So we became location scouts. It's a small church, everything is hand painted. Off the chapel is a small room with a round hole in the floor. This hole contains holy dirt and people come to rub it on themselves to be healed. The room is lined with crutches left by pilgrims. I smeared some dirt on my forehead like Ash Wednesday but so far nothing has happened. We then visited with a crazy Indian selling spices who wanted to know why we were wearing matching gold rings, flirted with a nutty old queen running a souvenir shop, and had a great lunch and a glass of sangria at Rancho de Chimayo. That's pretty much the whole village.

Back to Santa Fe. Went over for a quick drink with Charles and Akushla. They are adorable, especially him. She's all perky and Irish and fun. K. and B. call Charles a faux-mo because he's so huggable and gay-friendly. Then we ate dinner at Geronimo. It was just wonderful. I had a crab cake appetizer that was so good I had it again for my main course. Kent and Bob knew everyone there, including the owner. Back home, collapsed, feeling my [not that advanced] age.

Now, where's those eye drops?

Oh dear... after three weeks of meticulous care: wetting solution in my eyes every two hours, no rubbing AT ALL, a full week of sleeping in goggles- last night instead of using my artificial tears, I grabbed the bottle of antifungal medicine I use on my fingernail. Two seconds later, realizing my grave error, I screamed "Dear God!" and raced through the house until I found the correct bottle and proceeded to pump the entire contents into my burning eye.
After an hour or so, the agony subsided and I was able to sleep. This morning, everything back to normal.

pre op

Where'd you get those peepers?

I had my lasik eye surgery last week. I've been wanting it for a couple of years now so this year when Hector's bonus came in, I went for it. My optometrist, Tanya, said I was a good candidate (natch) and referred me over to a lasik factory in La Jolla. After a string of consultations (ending with the in-house financial advisor) and ten pounds of paperwork to sign, I got scheduled.

I arrived Thursday at 1 pm, dropped off by Hector and my friend John, who then went off to eat at the beach while I was under the knife. First, I had a little signing party with the paperwork lady: yes I want both eyes done, yes I know there are no guarantees, yes I agree to pay this whopping fee even if I die on the table. As my reward she then handed me a 5mg Valium and I had to sign a form swearing that it was me who ate it. Now 5 mg is not very much Valium.
"Um, do most patients find that this is sufficient?"
She made some tut-tut comforting noises.

I was then shuffled from one tiny room to another and another- following, I suppose, the surgery queue to the back of the clinic. As I progressed I noticed that the patients ahead of me were becoming more and more loopy. They all had stupid, slack looks on their faces. I felt nothing. At the next-to-last room, a real live doctor came in to see if I had any concerns or questions before I got "prepped". Just one...
"Could I have another Valium?"
Pause...
"Well, I suppose you could have more but I don't really think you'll need it." You pussy. "It's intended just to take the edge off a little and of course you'll be numbed."
Very well. Oh the shame.

A perky-titted young nurse came in to put a hair bonnet on me and swab my eyelids with iodine. And before I could formulate a joke about going home with yellow eye shadow I was whisked into the "surgery", a big noisy room filled with clanking machines and spotlights and television screens. And a tiny little dentist chair just for me. On it I went, some icy drops from a nurse out of nowhere and then instructions from the deep voice of the surgeon.
"I'm going to talk you through it as we go."
Then my eyelashes were taped back, my eyelid was clamped open and a thick ring was pushed down on my eyeball.
"How's the suction?" whispered the Doctor to the nurse.
Suction? Are they sucking my eyeball all the way out of the socket?
Doctor: "The suction was better last time."
Nurse: "It's this machine..."

A little orange light appeared and I was instructed- nay, ordered to stay focused on it. A whirring noise as a circular cut was made on my cornea by a tiny wheel. (laughingly referred to as the "deli-slicer method" by Tanya)
"We're just going to peel back the flap now."
Things got really blurry. I heard some clanking as a laser reshaped my cornea, the "flap" was put back and presumably my eye was shoved back in the socket. I could see outlines and shadows of fingers batting around my face. Then the tape and all my eyelashes were peeled off. The clamp was taken off so I could blink, though I was a little hesitant to do so.
"Now it's on to the left eye!"

Ellis County Courthouse, Waxahachie

Waxahachie greets Starbucks!

It has happened. Joining the ranks of Chili's, Sonic, and the Catfish King, Starbucks has arrived in my hometown of Waxahachie, Texas- population 20,000 (according to the Chamber of Commerce)....

The new Starbucks is located in the entrance of the brand new Target Store out on Highway 77, just south of Highway 287. You know... it's right there next to the new Lowe's Hardware, directly across the street from Home Depot... about 500 yards from the Walmart Supercenter. I had three nonfat lattes over the course of 4 days and I intended to have another one my final day there but I was in such a fucking hurry to get out of town I raced past it without slowing down.

Bob Vila

HGTV

Hector and I are addicted to the Home and Garden channel. That sounds very cliche. 2 queers sitting around watching decorating shows, but I actually prefer the ones where I'm taught how to do something, like make a new patio out of flagstone or raise my ceiling by 2 feet. What I really love is This Old House. What a great show. I remember the very first season, years ago on PBS when Bob Vila was just a youngster with wild hair. That started this whole obsession with DIY in this country.

Of all the we're-going-to-fix-up-your-tacky-home-for-you shows I most love the one in which a crew comes in to repair the horrible catastrophe perpetrated by the homeowner. There was one episode where the husband left town on business and the wife just said, "well, he won't do it so I'm going to do it!" Then she proceeded to rip out 2 huge walls in the dining room and living room so she could have a "great room". Well, of course, one was a load-bearing wall and when the crew arrived the ceiling was sagging and electric cables were dangling all over the place with kids swinging on them. She was totally nonchalant and the whole family sort of thought it was a big joke.

Some of the programs are so stupid and simplistic I want to slap everyone involved. A poor unsuspecting wife will leave for a weekend to visit her mother. While she's gone a bunch of spokesmodels will devastate her home. They throw around a bit of red paint and some masonite, and then when the wife walks back in the front door, clearly flabbergasted, they stick a mike in her face and say, "But, do you love it?" or "What do you think of the Old World Charm?" Then, naturally enough, she bursts into tears.

I want to see a show where the couple leaves town and their next-door neighbors decide to re-do their house for them. But in reality, the neighbors are sadistic enemies of the couple and they proceed to paint the living room with blood and re-wire the house so that turning on the bathroom light will electrocute you. Now that would be a popular show.

Bellagio