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Frank Gumola - Journal | Weblog

Andy Was There, Were You?

The first stop of the night, last night, was Tregoning & Company's birthday celebration.


Inside, I found a local gay blogger, a local gay business owner, and a single solitary soup can painting. You can imagine which of the three got most of my attention.

Stop number two was duoHOME, and the place looked lovely as usual. Plenty of people mingling about and checking out the local artists and the talented staff of the store. Witness the pretty:



My next to last stop of the evening was Room Service, which was jam packed with pretty people and things. I didn't know where to look first. Floor to ceiling gorgeousness. And greeting every guest were these lovely morsels:


And last but not least, I ended my evening at Luxe Kitchen and Lounge with a lavender infused vodka lemonade.


Rumor has it a cheese plate for two was involved. And it was absolutely delicious.

Spring Fling

A few days after our dining room ceiling was replaced, David decided to do a little furniture rearranging; which ultimately led to carpet shampooing, and eventually my worst nightmare was suggested: cleaning out the closets.

Let us not forget I literally use one of the spare bedrooms as a closet.
He: "You know, you really should just go through all of it and throw out what you don't wear. Or give it away."
Me: "I know, but when it comes to clothing, I get separation anxiety. I mean, no one will love this Todd Oldham snakeskin print t-shirt like I do."
He: "When was the last time you actually wore that?"
Me: "1993. ish."
He: "I'll just bag up some stuff while you're at work tomorrow. You can approve the donations when you get home."
Me: "Touch my Todd I'll take a baseball bat to your bobblehead collection."
Sometimes, I just have to remember to speak his language.

Women In Glasses And Men With Movie Passes

Friday afternoon, David showed up at my place of employment wearing a huge smile and holding a large velvet, star-embossed silver gift bag. Inside was a lovely card with a heartfelt message, some incense I've been meaning to pick up, and the final season (parts one and two) of that show that's now a movie. The one everyone is sick of hearing about even though it's been off the air for four years? That one.

Inside part two of the DVD set was a coupon good for one free admission to the SATC movie. We decided yesterday afternoon would be a good time to hit the theater; and just after I got home and changed (and properly thanked David for my giving me exactly what I wanted by giving him what he wanted), we headed out the door.

We got to the theater and I noticed small "NP/CR" notices everywhere. I politely asked the woman behind the counter, who was sporting fabulous spectacles, if my "coupon" was the same thing as a Movie Pass. I was happy to pay to see the movie, but I thought asking couldn't hurt.

The woman smiled at both David and I, adjusted her glasses, and quickly comped our seats. Both of them.

So we returned the favor and bought one of everything from the concession stand. And if I ever see another Goober, Raisinette, or five gallon drum of Pepsi, I will be ill.

And if I ever see Michael Patrick King, I will thank him for giving me exactly what I wanted in a movie.

Here's hoping that one day every love story will have a happy ending.

Blinded By The White

I got home from work yesterday afternoon to find my entire dining room ceiling missing, and everything I own (and I mean everything) covered in a layer of white dust.

Obviously, the maintenance man decided putting plastic over the doorways to the other rooms of the apartment would be a bad idea.

Personally, I believe he chose the wrong profession.

I also believe my landlord found the nearest barrel, scraped the bottom of it with his hands, and said those magic words, "You're hired!"

The sight of my apartment in such a state of disarray caused me to scream. A lot. Which caused everyone to pack up and disappear from my immediate line of sight. Cowering in corners or running for the border...my vision was too blurry at the time for me to correctly recollect the immediate exit of the construction creeps in question.

I'm currently sitting at a local java joint calmly sipping a cup of coffee, praying that I find not one single soul at that apartment when I decide to return home for the evening.

And I am so over white.