Sure, why not?
It's late at night, I've been sucking down West Wing episodes like it's going out of style (is it?) and I think, "why don't I check out what's on SG, since often my friends and fellow humans write informative/amusing/personal bits worthy of consumption, or at the very least I can look at boobs.
Masquerade and danny_g do this a lot more than me, so they've covered a lot of her wedding (which Michele also attended. I wasn't mentioned because I didn't do too much of note at the wedding/party myself, although I was pleased that the woman I brought got in touch with my friend the Vulture and managed to turn their respective housing problems into each other's solutions. Sometimes the world just needs a push, and it's cool to be in the room when it happens.
I will say one thing about the wedding party. danny_g, to the chagrin of all, did NOT end up in a strappy blue gown with the rest of the bridesmaids, but I was amazed by his groomswoman counterpart (dubbed by the MC as the "hot Slovak chick") in a tuxedo-styled blouse and skirt. (Which may have a more formal name but what do I know for clothes?) Should I ever be responsible for clothes at a wedding (and thinking now, it grows less and less likely) I think that would be the standard women's outfit. And for the men - kilts. That'll be a lot of bare knees.
So other stuff - I'm back to art modelling by Hallowe'en. I'm working for a hot dog place in Calgary (no, not THAT one, the other one). Contact improvisation is back with a vengeance - if you guys are curious, drop me a line and try to clear October 14th evening on your calendar.
Oh, yeah, I'm taking a belly dancing course. 10 weeks starting last Monday. Yes, guys can do it, if you're willing to try, and this city is plenty short on men confident enough in their own sexuality to do ANY kind of dancing while sober. (Oh, yeah, that was a throwdown. Bitches.)
Speaking of challenging orientations, I believe I was talking about dating last time I bothered to do this a couple moons ago. That's still happening, after a fashion. I had, in fact, encountered a small handful of women willing to spend time with me, meeting in various ways: one through a speed-dating event, one at a cast party, and one at a hot-tub party. Hot Tub Woman is still a going concern, much to my surprise, since due to her job she often flies to far-flung places (Albania, Constantinople, and New York to name 3 since August). Despite her jet-setting lifestyle, she's also into community theatre, so I've run into her twice now at auditions, completely by chance (unless she's stalking me, but I'm not that lucky).
To back up a bit, we met at a mutual friend's party, and said mutual friend is a high-calibre hostess in my book, although she described herself as being too cheap to hire entertainment so she brings it all herself. To illustrate: the moment you walk in the door, Uberhostess already has you choosing your customized martini. Later in the evening, she does poi-juggling (sp?) on her front lawn and then belly-dancing in her living room for the enjoyment of all. I don't have to mention how hot she is, but I will note she is married and childed, for those curious.
I met HTW at the party briefly in the kitchen, and then saw her later in the living room, apparently meeting newly arrived friends she was already acquainted with. Many of them came up and kissed her lightly on the lips in a comradely fashion, so with roughly 2 martinis under my belt I got in line and delivered in kind, which seemed to impress her.
Later on we ran into each other again in the hot tub, and she offered to get me a drink, which caught me off-guard since under most circumstances I don't drink much. This usually has less to do with any sort of personal honour and more to do with finances, but I don't know what I want beverage-wise and leave it to her to decide. She returns with my drink embedded between her breasts (and secured by her bikini - she has a great body but is not so sizeable on top as to perform any kind of pincer action). I am naturally entranced by her delivery and express gratitude, despite it being a can of Kokanee. (What can I say? Breasts = yes, beer = meh.) In my defence, I took the beer from its cozy surroundings using my teeth, as any gentleman ought in such a situation.
It was about this time when our Hostess performed her greatest service to me and those near me, which was, of course, being the first to strip down in the hot tub. I was at this point down to a dance belt (don't ask) and HTW offered to assist me with its removal. After a bit of that I called "tat" and explained the exchange process, which was better done with action than words. This led to activities that seem better in the moment than in print, but eventually I did get to the point where HTW and I were talking and I dropped those 3 magic words ("Are you single?") and got a positive return.
One last magic moment that evening: I managed to get her phone number (on a business card which described a career that quite literally makes tenfold what I do) and surprise her with one kiss. The kiss itself wasn't a surprise, but I'd popped a few Reese's peanut butter balls a moment before and apparently still tasted like chocolate. I'm now known as Chocolate Man.
Now this all happened at the end of June. A few days later we met up for coffee to see if we got along clothed and sober (we do!) and to try to arrange more in the future. Since then, I've had her out to lunch once and seen her at 2 auditions. I've done a full play run, started a new job, and she's travelled to at least 4 different countries. I've called, texted and emailed back and forth with her, but have yet to have a bona fide date. Next week is the new goal: I'm hoping she'll be up for catching Urinetown. On another tact, I sent her an email that simply asked: Sound, Touch, or Taste? She picked Touch, so that's a theme I'm working with.
Anyone know where I can find a feather boa in Calgary?
It's late at night, I've been sucking down West Wing episodes like it's going out of style (is it?) and I think, "why don't I check out what's on SG, since often my friends and fellow humans write informative/amusing/personal bits worthy of consumption, or at the very least I can look at boobs.
Masquerade and danny_g do this a lot more than me, so they've covered a lot of her wedding (which Michele also attended. I wasn't mentioned because I didn't do too much of note at the wedding/party myself, although I was pleased that the woman I brought got in touch with my friend the Vulture and managed to turn their respective housing problems into each other's solutions. Sometimes the world just needs a push, and it's cool to be in the room when it happens.
I will say one thing about the wedding party. danny_g, to the chagrin of all, did NOT end up in a strappy blue gown with the rest of the bridesmaids, but I was amazed by his groomswoman counterpart (dubbed by the MC as the "hot Slovak chick") in a tuxedo-styled blouse and skirt. (Which may have a more formal name but what do I know for clothes?) Should I ever be responsible for clothes at a wedding (and thinking now, it grows less and less likely) I think that would be the standard women's outfit. And for the men - kilts. That'll be a lot of bare knees.
So other stuff - I'm back to art modelling by Hallowe'en. I'm working for a hot dog place in Calgary (no, not THAT one, the other one). Contact improvisation is back with a vengeance - if you guys are curious, drop me a line and try to clear October 14th evening on your calendar.
Oh, yeah, I'm taking a belly dancing course. 10 weeks starting last Monday. Yes, guys can do it, if you're willing to try, and this city is plenty short on men confident enough in their own sexuality to do ANY kind of dancing while sober. (Oh, yeah, that was a throwdown. Bitches.)
Speaking of challenging orientations, I believe I was talking about dating last time I bothered to do this a couple moons ago. That's still happening, after a fashion. I had, in fact, encountered a small handful of women willing to spend time with me, meeting in various ways: one through a speed-dating event, one at a cast party, and one at a hot-tub party. Hot Tub Woman is still a going concern, much to my surprise, since due to her job she often flies to far-flung places (Albania, Constantinople, and New York to name 3 since August). Despite her jet-setting lifestyle, she's also into community theatre, so I've run into her twice now at auditions, completely by chance (unless she's stalking me, but I'm not that lucky).
To back up a bit, we met at a mutual friend's party, and said mutual friend is a high-calibre hostess in my book, although she described herself as being too cheap to hire entertainment so she brings it all herself. To illustrate: the moment you walk in the door, Uberhostess already has you choosing your customized martini. Later in the evening, she does poi-juggling (sp?) on her front lawn and then belly-dancing in her living room for the enjoyment of all. I don't have to mention how hot she is, but I will note she is married and childed, for those curious.
I met HTW at the party briefly in the kitchen, and then saw her later in the living room, apparently meeting newly arrived friends she was already acquainted with. Many of them came up and kissed her lightly on the lips in a comradely fashion, so with roughly 2 martinis under my belt I got in line and delivered in kind, which seemed to impress her.
Later on we ran into each other again in the hot tub, and she offered to get me a drink, which caught me off-guard since under most circumstances I don't drink much. This usually has less to do with any sort of personal honour and more to do with finances, but I don't know what I want beverage-wise and leave it to her to decide. She returns with my drink embedded between her breasts (and secured by her bikini - she has a great body but is not so sizeable on top as to perform any kind of pincer action). I am naturally entranced by her delivery and express gratitude, despite it being a can of Kokanee. (What can I say? Breasts = yes, beer = meh.) In my defence, I took the beer from its cozy surroundings using my teeth, as any gentleman ought in such a situation.
It was about this time when our Hostess performed her greatest service to me and those near me, which was, of course, being the first to strip down in the hot tub. I was at this point down to a dance belt (don't ask) and HTW offered to assist me with its removal. After a bit of that I called "tat" and explained the exchange process, which was better done with action than words. This led to activities that seem better in the moment than in print, but eventually I did get to the point where HTW and I were talking and I dropped those 3 magic words ("Are you single?") and got a positive return.
One last magic moment that evening: I managed to get her phone number (on a business card which described a career that quite literally makes tenfold what I do) and surprise her with one kiss. The kiss itself wasn't a surprise, but I'd popped a few Reese's peanut butter balls a moment before and apparently still tasted like chocolate. I'm now known as Chocolate Man.
Now this all happened at the end of June. A few days later we met up for coffee to see if we got along clothed and sober (we do!) and to try to arrange more in the future. Since then, I've had her out to lunch once and seen her at 2 auditions. I've done a full play run, started a new job, and she's travelled to at least 4 different countries. I've called, texted and emailed back and forth with her, but have yet to have a bona fide date. Next week is the new goal: I'm hoping she'll be up for catching Urinetown. On another tact, I sent her an email that simply asked: Sound, Touch, or Taste? She picked Touch, so that's a theme I'm working with.
Anyone know where I can find a feather boa in Calgary?
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Have a great day!