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Frank Gumola - Journal | Weblog

Truffles Tragedy

I'm sitting here at the local coffee house preparing for my interview; when in walks your typical overly tanned, overly oiled gym bunny. Right down to the swish-swish pants.

Watching him inhale his breakfast muffin(s) wasn't fun. Oh no. The fun began once his fellow hopsters arrived and ordered their drinks.

"Anyone eating?"

The entire group, even the original, are dieting.

My eyebrows hit defcon four and the look I gave the inhaler? "I know what you ate this summer."

When I'm Poor, I Reign

I just heard from two potential employers. Of all the places I visited, these are the two I wanted to hear from. One wants to interview me and one wants me to fill out paperwork.

In a perfect world, I'm working for both.

Mayhaps I can swing it.

Million And One

There may be a very good reason why a certain someone is taking a little time approving my MySpace friend request.

Of course, I could be wrong. And just in case: Gavin, I'm sorry I missed your show last month. I'll stalk see you the next time you play through here.

Sexy And The City

A few highlights:

- Still posting from my psp, hence the brevity of entries.

- Dropped about twenty apps and resumés today; if no one calls this weekend I AM a total loser.

- I have the most incredible landlord in recorded history...he played taxi driver today.

- Went to home town this evening for a few hours and it felt like a foreign country.

- Drank shots out of David's naval to the applause of others.

Amen.

Babes In Toyland

I pounded the pavement again for most of the day, and I decided to cool my heels (and get out of the rain) at what has to be the epicenter of all things gay in the city.

I'm quite happy I did. Not only did I get to meet the store owner, Marshall; but I also got to meet a lovely little fruitfly as well. (Faghag no! Fruitfly yes!)

Go read Melanie's weblog. Seriously, if I know anything, I know you'll get a kick out of her open letter to Amy.

It's Only Rock And Roll

I haven't had too much good luck with the job hunt during the past week, but I have a feeling that things are going to take a turn for the better.

David and I popped in here today and I just so happened to have a copy of my resumé tucked away in my man bag.

Queen of Soul, hear my prayer.

One Step Too Far

I was unpacking today and I came across a few cds I haven't seen or heard in a while.

One had "XO-Jhames" written on it, one was from Ricky of Locotek fame, and one was from my Sambo.

The sound of Dido's voice to a disco beat took me back a few years and I found myself dancing in a room full partially unpacked belongings.

It felt amazing. Thank you, gentlemen.

Chanel A Go-Go

Remember that Chanel show I've been dying to get tickets to see?

If I don't get to sit runway side, (and hell freezes over) I can at least watch it on YouTube.

Size Matters

It's moving day, kids. In about two hours my friends Amanda and Whitney will be here to drive David and I to our new home.

I hope Amanda drives a moving van. I didn't realize how many of my belongings were still tucked away in various hiding places throughout this apartment.

My friends have giant hearts of gold. They've all helped so very much.

Wait. Maybe they're just happy to get rid of me.

Bitches. I still love 'em though.

Happy Birthday, Darling

Happy Birthday to The Boyfriend, known to a few of you (and now the rest of you) by his real name: David.

We celebrated with dinner and several drinks, and a congratulatory text from my LDSA.

We stopped by a few spots to say our goodbyes, and invited everyone to the season finale of "Funk'd Up Bingo with Frankie" tomorrow night.

Who will survive? Will Frankie blow up the bar? Will he pull off his wig to reveal a nasty temple length scar? Tune in tomorrow night.

Extreme Ice Cream Eating

Fact: Rocky Road ice cream is exactly that.

Fact: I no longer have any type of insurance, including dental, because of my upcoming move.

Fact: I got the one tub of ice cream with almonds as dense as diamonds.

At least I'll shed those vanity pounds in time for my first night out in Cleveland. Eating is simply out of the question until I see a dentist. And with my money tied up in the move, that may be ten or so pounds from now.

Happily Ever After

The Boyfriend turns twenty-two on Wednesday. I turn thirty-eight in September.

This has only added to my worries of late.

I stole my Mother's dermabrasion kit during my last visit.

I'm so not kidding. I was so into it the first time I used it I burned my face in two places.

I've since learned as with anything, moderation is key.

That applies to worrying as well.

Famous Last Words



"What we know is not much. What we don't know is enormous."

What will yours be?

That Was Now, This Is Zen

The Boyfriend and Porkchop (check my myspace account, links are a bitch to create on my psp) spent the day moving most of our belongings to the new abode.

Last night, while going through some old photos taken from my stint in Chicago, The Boyfriend held one up and asked, "What happened to THIS Frankie?" I smiled and reminded him that snakeskin pants just don't fly in this town.

I'll be wearing them again; and soon enough.

Rock And Roll Fashion Show

On September 7th the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is hosting a once in my lifetime event.

Chanel's fall line, set to rock music. It's reported to be the exact same show Chanel debuted in Paris this past spring.

The bad news? Limited (and I mean limited) tickets are $150 each.

I've been praying to the lottery diety since I saw the article.

Cheese Wiz

The Boyfriend and I had dinner with Mama Gumola last night. We're trying to get in some quality family time before the big move.

We made a potato and spinach lasagna with layer after layer of gouda goodness. Peppercorn encrusted pork tenderloin was cooked to perfection.

If I ever eat again it will be too soon.

We Are All Made Of Stars

Through tear filled eyes he asked me, "Wait. You got me an application and a solid interview to work for my all time favorite sports team ever?"

The Boyfriend filled out the application faster than he could finish the question.

"Who loves you baby?", I reminded him.

The Indians have no idea what they are in store for.