Summer's Over

That's right, now that Memorial Day has come and gone, we can now proclaim that either summer is ending or it's over. It's not officially over until the Fourth of July, so I guess I can just say that it is ending.

I'm too distracted and lazy to go into any in-depth discussion about anything in particular, so this is going to be more of the ilk of lazy post. I haven't been up to much lately.

-- Recently, I did see the Actor's Workshop Theater's production of Equus, which may be better known to some as the play that kid from Harry Potter is in. Without giving too much away or overexaggerating, it may have been the most powerful artistic production I have ever seen, except perhaps for the first time I saw "Phantom of the Opera" as a kid. That was more because it was the first time I'd seen any kind of production, so just the newsness of the experience made it cool. But holy fucking shit, Equus was intense. I actually forgot everything around me and felt as if I was watching something that was really happening to the actors. This was magnified by the fact that what you see as the audience is something that is intensely private and intimate. The tiny size of the performance space and the way the actors were able to pull off the script contributed to the intensity of the production. The acting, the writing, the production qualities were all probably the best I have ever seen and will ever see. I actually think I'm going to go see it again.

-- Is anyone willing to explain to me why, at least in the context of a social conversation at a party or wherever, men don't give a shit what women do for a living? I just find it fascinating that I can have a long conversation with someone at a party or social event, and the topic of what I do for a living never comes up, esp. when I ask them what they do. Believe me, there are few things I want to talk about less than what I do, but I just can't believe that it doesn't even pique their interest. I know, I know, men care about looks, women care about what men do, but jesus man, at least pretend like you care!

-- I AM SO FRUSTRATED BY WORK.

-- I bought a bottle of pomegranate liquor and I'm excited to try it. Yeah, I know it's kind of a bitch drink that's dangerously close to something someone trying to be Carrie Bradshaw would drink. CARE. I think it's going to be part of the theme drinks for my upcoming barby-cue. I'll keep ya'll posted.

-- I saw the Sox play at The Clock's kickass seats with S. and Patrick Bateman, and I realized that there is something inherently elegant and kind of sexy about the way baseball players move, more so I think than any other sport. The players' movements are masculine and athletic, but somehow lazy at the same time. I mean when even A.J. looks hot taking a swing, there must be something about the game. On another note, I don't know if it's because I'm accustomed to games at Wrigley Field and take for granted how cool that stadium is, but I hated the constant barrage of video and music and advertisements at Sox Park or whatever the fuck it's called now. Are we that pathetic that we can't focus on a game? I go to baseball games to relax and watch baseball, not to be distracted. The video screen in the middle of center field was making me sick. And they would play music and videos in between swings, I mean what the fuck?!

-- On another note, I have to give mad props to S. She just received formal confirmation on closing a difficult chapter in her life, and did so mostly, probably 99% on her own, with her own strength, will, bravery, and resolve. It takes an incredible amount of strength to say "fuck you" to the judgments of others and to do what is best for yourself and the people you love, and she did something that probably most people don't have the strength to do, even if it meant making daily sacrifices. On behalf of those of us lucky enough to have her in our lives, I have to say, well done, sister.

And then sometimes...

revenge is sweet. Don't get me wrong, I hate lawyers, I hate this profession, I hate all of the assholes with whom routine encounters are inevitable. But, sometimes, sometimes, things actually do go your way and the jerks and liars lose and you win. It's all a crapshoot, really. But I'll take a "win" when it comes along on those rare occasions.

I guess trying to remain calm and not get all angry all the time doesn't always necessarily mean that you are a pushover. It's just hard not to feel that way when people automatically assume you are a meek pushover just by looking at you. When motherfuckers get in my face, though, it actually makes it more fun because it makes me much more inclined to get in their face and not care what they think. The most important thing is to know your shit and be prepared and ACT like you know what you're doing.

All right, enough of that. Can you believe Memorial Day weekend is NEXT weekend? Are you kidding me? SUMMER IS OVER.

I'm feeling woefully out of shape because usually on the weekend before Memorial Day I'm doing some kind of race. Yeah...not this year. My training regimen lately has involved exercising my liver. And I'm going to be doing more of that this weekend! No, at some point I'll bring Lucy out, dust her off, and take her for a ride. Then it's time for the sweet, fermented juices of the agave plant.

This is so random, but I've discovered someone in my office uses Axe Body Spray. He's almost 40 and lives in the suburbs with his wife and 1.5 kids. It's true. Are you kidding me? You have to go to their website. I've never seen anything like it. It actually made me laugh out loud. I was just mocking the entire concept of men's body sprays with Patrick Bateman the other day, how it smells of dorm rooms and uncomfortable dates and horribly awkward attempts at making out. The entire thing makes me laugh my ass off.

One more thing -- Alberto Gonzales is the only person who can make John Ashcroft look like a defender of civil liberties. Holy christ, that shit is WRONG.

UGH

I fucking HATE lawyers. I HATE THEM.

Grrrrr....

Gluttony

So, I've decided that my project this summer is going to be to engage in the 7 deadly sins somehow. This week's sin was gluttony, and the place at which the sin was committed was San Francisco, California:

I ate at no less than 7 restaurants, including:

Ebisu (Japanese)
The Slanted Door (Vietnamese fusion)
Tartine Bakery (French pastries)
Boulevard (French-influenced Californa cuisine, dinner)
Foreign Cinema (French-influenced California cuisine, brunch)
Mecca (experimental dining, new American)
Top of the Mark (fucking delicious seafood-heavy brunch at the Hotel Inter-Continental)

I also ate at the Ferry Building's farmer's market (oysters, various truffle oils, coffee) and at Cowgirl Creamery (samples of gruyere and sheep's milk cheese), also at the Farmer's Market. I also drank lots and lots of incredible wine from Napa Valley and Sonoma Valley, as well as, of course, tequila.

Yes, I gained about 3 pounds, but it was well worth it.

I also reconnected with a cousin whom I haven't seen or spoke to in about 22 years, as well as an aunt I haven't seen in about 10 years. I also had the pleasure of meeting my cousin's wonderful partner and husband. DJ is the only family member in front of whom I have said "fuck," have been able to drink with, and have been able to be 100% myself. I can't emphasize how freeing and special that was for me. "Fuck" has many, many wonderful attributes, including the bringing together of families. It was also pretty cool to toss back wine with my aunt.

Aunt and I were able to share and talk about my dad, which is something I have never been able to do, not even with my mom. She told me a lot about dad that I didn't know, including that he used to stop by her house on the way home from work every day and just shoot the shit with her before coming home. She had just returned from Korea, and visited the town where they were from, and said that everyone there still remembered my dad and talked about how well-loved and well-respected he was. People who knew him always say that to me. Anyway, they were very close, and I know she was his favorite sister and he her favorite sibling. I didn't know this, but his death precipitated her family's move to Sacramento, away from the rest of us. She had the guts to stand up to a mean-spirited, rude, and crass pastor who dared to give the "God takes people away early because they were useless to him on earth" sermon to the congregation, which included my mom and four of my dad's sisters, shortly after he died. Yeah. We made each other cry that night, fueled by lots of merlot and cabernet sauvignon.

I am so, so happy for DJ, so happy that he was able to find someone to be his partner and friend and husband for his life (he ROCKS, by the way!), that they are both able to be themselves and have found happiness. Honestly, we had a blast just hanging out and being sarcastic and making fun of people (and saying "mother fucker," "fuck," and "douchebag"). I knew there was a Park like me out there! It was also pretty cool to be in a gay bar in the middle of the Castro drinking tequila with my cousin. I hope this was just the beginning of many trips back and forth b/w SF and Chicago, and I hope 1) more wine will be involved; 2) more food will be involved; and 3) plenty of laughs will be shared.

Cheesy as it sounds, there is something special about family, something that cannot be replicated. I'm going to make more of an effort to spend more time with them, even the weird ones.

Top of the Mark, after Sunday brunch.

We were utterly stuffed at this point. Caviar bar, oysters, lobster, papaya salad, crab, lox, eggs benedict, mimosas, dessert.

One last thing: I have to post a link to this article about Bar Martignetti, which I posted about a few months back. We were right -- it WAS a bunch of Ralph Lauren frocked, East coast frat boy douchebags.

San Francisco...

...here I come!

I've put Erasure's "POP!" on my iPod just for the occasion.

And, Gary Sheffield is BACK, baby! 4 for 4 at bat, one HR, 2 (or 3?) RBIs! When is Felix going to get off the DL, though?