Vanguard: A Miscellany

Er...I Mean...Um

"It's pus...um..."

"Some people like an injection of an anesthetic before the incision, but honestly I've found that most people prefer to be poked just once instead of...er...I mean..."

"I'll use this to probe the cavity...*cough cough*"

"I find that after poking it once it'll come...I mean the pus will come...er...the infected material should come...OUT.  It'll come OUT!"

Holy shit!  Talking an seventy-five year old woman through the procedure of lancing a boil gives me the heebie jeebies.  And having to lance one located on the labia majora...er...um...I mean...

Week In Review '08.23

5/31 - Work wasn't too bad.  I was able to leave early and got in a little work out at Smooth's gym.  I felt I had to at least pop in to say hi just because some of the employees know that we are "friends" and I didn't want him to find out I was there and didn't at least make an attempt to say hi.  At least that's what I'm telling myself.  

The evening was pretty mellow.  Picked up Dutch and then went out for dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant called Nyala with Razor Burn, Unicorn and Sunshine's Wife followed by a drink at the Whisper Lounge.

6/1 - Absolutely nothing.  It was nice.  It was also nice to have nothing in my laundry bin after two months.  Ahhh fresh everything.

6/2 - After work, I met up with Dutchess.  I needed headshots done for Job #2 and she's a whiz at that.  Actually it's more what she does as a job and she graciously offered to do it gratis.  It was really nice to reconnect and even better to just walk up and down Montana Ave in Santa Monica and finding a hole in the wall Indian restaurant with excellent and somewhat healthier Indian fare.    

6/3 - I don't know what's happening, but Job #1 is becoming a bigger pain in my ass.  People have become so demanding.  I had three patients walk in without appointments.  Three others called in stating that they needed to be seen that day--one actually filing a complaint for not being able to be seen that day for an ankle he had fucked up three weeks earlier and only that day deciding it was an emergency and that I had to see it.  He chewed out my nurses as well as the patient liaison, and after I treated him for the ankle, I informed him that I would be available for any emergencies that may occur in the next month and that after that time, all of his medical problems need to be addressed by whichever doctor he decides will be his new doctor.  

The weird thing however is that not only was I getting it from patients, but I was also getting it from friends...or "friends".  I was playing e-mail ping pong with guys I know from volleyball who now only call when they need medical advice only this time it went one step further--could I find twenty minutes in my 30 patient day to see one of them.  The fact is I didn't have twenty minutes to see my 30 scheduled patients.

In any case, at the end of the day, I was at wit's end.  I had packed my gym bag that morning so I could get some lifting done after work.  Instead I called Razor Burn who sounded equally stressed and decided fuck it.  We ended up at Sol y Luna for some Mexican food and margaritas and the company of Guido, Unicorn, Sunshine and his wife as well.  

6/4 - Another stressful day at work.  This time I burned off steam with my trainer who threatened me with looking like shit this summer if we didn't kick it up a notch.

6/5 - Here's a big surprise--work was crap...again.  My last patient really should have taken no more than fifteen minutes.  It was just to make sure he was doing well on his medication.  He wasn't...because he wasn't taking them.  He decided he didn't feel too good with the pills, so he stopped taking them.  Again. Here's the thing with antibiotics: if you take them then stop then restart, you run the risk of allowing the bacteria to mutate and become resistant to the antibiotic.  This is really shitty when you have tuberculosis...really shitty.  You know what's even worse?  When you have AIDS and TB.  You know what's worse?  When you have AIDS and TB and you aren't taking your TB medications and you haven't gone to the infectious disease specialist that your doctor had referred you to two months ago.  You know what's worse?  When you have all that and you demonstrate inability to take medications as instructed because that in and of itself makes you a poor candidate for antiretrovirals because it becomes a public health risk to give the medications to someone who will likely worsen the resistance patterns of the virus.  

So I spent an hour and a half with him.  Counselling him, dealing with the obvious denial, beginning treatment for the underlying depression as well.  I also had to talk to the Department of Public Health to arrange for DOT (direct observed therapy where someone comes out to deliver the medications daily and watch that the medication is taken--yes it costs taxpayers a lot of money, but for prevention of the spread of something like TB, it makes sense).  I also had to talk to the Infectious Disease specialist and arrange for an earlier meeting with him.  

So yeah the day was shitty, but it was my half day, and this time I didn't have to go to Job #2.  I just had to go to my parents' house.  We were celebrating my mom's birthday and Vanessa and I decided to take the parents to the new Katsuya (holy crap!  Who knew that the owners of Katsuya also own The Abbey)  in the new Americana mall in Glendale patterned after the very successful Grove.  It was like Bizarro Grove.  It was like being at the Grove, but someone decided to populate it with people about twenty pounds heavier and let all but four gay men in.

6/6 - So I've had a horrendous week.  I was just glad it was Friday.  I just had to make it through the day.  Sadly, I didn't even make it past the first hour.  I got ready for work, packed up my gym bag, ran down the stairs and hopped into my car.  I slammed my door shut and all of a sudden CRASH!  It sounded like someone had dropped something on top of the car next to mine, so I looked out the passenger side window and noticed first that the car next to mine was fine and second that there was no passenger side window.  Actually that wasn't true, the window was there, just in little pieces on the passenger seat and on the floor of my car.  I also noticed that my glove compartment was open and that my iPod and Fendi sunglasses were gone.  

I finished work.  My trainer allowed me to blow off excess steam (actually he said he was trying to get me in "shirtless shape" for the weekend's L.A. Gay Pride events...as if) by extending my workout to 90 minutes.   

Afterwards, I met up with Dutch and Groeg for a night out in WeHo which ended up being a clusterfuck because everyone was out for Pride weekend.  

Wedding Day

Check it out.  Pics from my sister's wedding.  She had some amazing photographers, and just these proofs make me realize why there are professional photographers and then there are hacks like me.

Week In Review '08.22

5/24 – I wasn’t sure what the plan was for Saturday.  It was one of those rare occasions when I left the day clear for anything and everything, thinking that some last minute event that required my attendance may turn up.  Didn’t happen.  Just the sort of rehearsal dinner at noon at Hollywood Park. 

 

I have to hand it to my sister: it was a unique rehearsal event where a good number of her guests showed up at the racetrack to not only be assigned their tasks for the wedding itself, but to spend an afternoon betting on the horses. 

 

5/25 – It was Virna’s big day.  My barong (traditional Filipino shirt) ripped as I was helping to set up.  The fabric is pretty delicate.  The woman in charge of the floral arrangements showed up so late that there was no way for Virna to get the bouquet for her entrance.  Aside from that, everything went off without a hitch.

 

Oh and I had a little crush on the wedding photographer—twenty eight, huge home in Santa Barbara, fantastically wealthy, and cute as a button.  I just have to off his girlfriend, convince him that being gay and being Christian is not necessarily mutually exclusive, then turn him gay.

 

5/26 – I had brunch with Razor Burn and Unicorn.  We’re the oddest set of friends.  They had gone to Lake Havasu for the long weekend with a bunch of other people, so it had been almost four days since I’d seen them.  As I waited for them to pick me up, I heard footsteps in the hallway, running.  I knew it had to be them, and as soon as I opened the door I found myself in a big group hug with both of them yelling “I missed my, Vanny.”  How cute are they?  The cool thing is they were being totally sincere, even though it was also meant to be kind of funny.

 

After brunch at Toast and a little shopping, I headed up to Smooth’s gym where I went as his guest to the company Memorial Day picnic after which we went to the jobsite of my Job #2 for some alone time.  And after that alone time,  it was like a light switch.  All of a sudden, not much interest in him.  Oh well…next guy I guess.

 

5/27 –Nothing really.  Unicorn made me promise to call some guy she thought would be great for me.  He was a stylist at the place she gets her hair done.  She’d talked me up, and he gave her his card.  I checked out the website listed.  He wasn’t exactly my type, but whatever.  So I called.  We talked.  It was pleasant, and I voluntarily sent him a picture of me.  It was only fair.

 

5/28 – So this is the e-mail response I got the following day:

 

“I never forget a face and i think i know of u. U do the circuit scene at all? Do u know Lawrence Nolan or Mark Chung? I think we may have crossed paths at some point.

What a trip.

I appreciate the call and thought you were very nice and cool.

I am dating a couple of guys now and my plate is full with that and the plans i have made this summer with friends. So im goin to say it was nice mtg you and if we run into each other at some point, please feel free to say hello.”

 

WTF?  And what a great way to start a day that ended with being on call.

 

5/29 – Typical Thursday.  Job #1 followed by Job #2.  I worked kind of late and grabbed a quick happy hour drink with Sunshine and Razor Burn before driving down to WeHo to grab drinks for O Bar happy hour. 

 

5/30 – I went to work out with my trainer, and he ramped up the intensity.  Holy shit I was fatigued, but he said he was going to get me where I wanted to be since we’re getting close to pool party season.  Yeah, it’s now a fucking season.  And then at the end of it, he said, “If you don’t have any plans, we should go to Eleven tonight.”  I don’t know what to make of that.

 

Anyway, I already had plans.  Sunshine and his wife, Razor Burn, Unicorn and I went out for dinner at the Sherman Oaks Galleria where all these crazy ass women were dressed in what I guess they thought were Carrie-like outfits for the opening day showings of Sex and the City.  They were wrong!  Holy crap, those outfits were scary.   After dinner, we took in a 10:00 showing of Indiana Jones.  Meh!  Didn’t live up to the hype.

I Do

Marriage.  It's been the topic of conversation lately.  All of the time actually, and frankly I didn't know how my parents would react.  This would, for them, be unconventional.  It wouldn't be right.  It wasn't in God's plan, or more importantly theirs.  No priest to officiate.  No church.  Obviously no church, and particularly no Catholic church.  But they did OK.  I think they were on their best behavior knowing that if they somehow fucked up on this day, made it about them, they would have to deal with the aftermath of having all three of their kids pissed at them.  They're OK with occasionally pissing off one of us.  On rare occasions two.  But I think they would crumble if all three of us were pissed at them.  
 
In truth, they did better than OK.
 
Despite the gay men.  Despite the bull dykes.  Despite the bull dykes dancing with my sister, they did OK.  My mom even had fun, tearing it up on the dance floor, joining in on the festivities, even participaitng in the Hora.  My dad doesn't dance.  He just kept to himself and the few family friends that had been invited.  But he handled it well, better than expected.
 
My older sister Virna got married this Sunday.  She got married at Santa Anita.  That's where her husband works as a horse trainer.  She did this whole equestrian theme for her wedding.  The ceremony took place on the winner's circle, and while those in the wedding marched down the aisle, Virna did something different.  The guests kept waiting, eyes fixed on the door through which my mom, my sister, the flower girl, the ring bearer and I had entered from.  She however came down the racetrack, my father accompanying her, both seated in a carriage drawn by two thoroughbreds.  It was beautiful.  She was beautiful.  And no, she didn't have a priest.  Instead, she had a black female pastor officiating the marriage of a Filipino bride to a Jewish groom.  The readings weren't all Biblical; only one was actually.  The others were poetry and one, an excerpt from The Velveteen Rabbit.  There wasn't Holy Communion or a unity candle.  But there was the release of two white doves and the breaking of a glass.
 
And still my parents seemed very happy for Virna, even though we all knew they had their reservations.
 
And yes there were gays.  Me and a friend of Virna's from her internship.  And there were the lesbians.  They were colleagues of the groom.  I guess lesbians are to horse training as the gays are to fashion; of course they were there.  And still my parents were OK.
 
Makes me wonder how OK they would be should I actually decide to get married, cause apparently now I can.  Course, that means I'd have to find someone to marry first.  

The Talk

How do I tell him?  I'm not sure exactly what to say.  There's no script.  And if there was, that would be lame.  So how do I tell him?  It's weird because it's not like I've never done it before.  I've done it a lot before...with other people.  I just don't remember how exactly.  And I think there's something insincere about trying to reach back into my head and remember what I said to other people and make it work for this, for him.  Cut and paste.  It doesn't feel right.  It's not sincere.

And so I start, the words just coming out of my mouth.  I think it makes sense, but I'm not sure.  There's a lot of pauses, making sure to give enough opportunity for him to ask questions along the way.  That and it gives me time to think of something to say, something smart, maybe.

But he has no questions.  Occassionally, he mumbles a "mm hmm" just to be polite, to let me know he's listening to the words that just seem to go on and on and on.  And I just keep going because I think the silence would be far more uncomfortable...at least for me.  He just stares at the ceiling, and I'm sure he hears me the way Charlie Brown hears all adults "mwa mwa mwa mwa mwa."

Even now, not long after delivering the news, I don't remember exactly what I said except that somewhere along the way, the words "metasatic liver cancer" made it into my little conversation. I do remember two things I said.  "I'm sorrry" and "I wish I was better at these things."

And I remember those are the two things I have always said in talks like these. 

Three Months

In some cases, it's not long at all.  In others it's an eternity.  Sometimes, it is just the right amount of time. 

Last year, as we were saying our goodbyes on an O Bar Thursday, Fishering asked Injun "So how long have you and Van been dating now?" to which Injun responded, "Almost three months."  I think Injun was surprised if not put off when Fishering, in his half joking, half serious way replied, "Three months?  Three months.  I guess it's getting to that time, huh?"

In his mind three months was the appropriate length of time to decide whether to shit or get off the pot, fish or cut bait.  A week later, I was single again.  

It's been three months almost to the day since I met Smooth (a.k.a. Secret), since the straights arranged that "business" meeting.  We've had some awkward starts and stops.  I've had some frustrations, a lot of frustrations.  And every time I thought I was done, he would call or text and say just enough to make me think "maybe this can still work out". 

Yesterday, we had another date.  He looked cute, really cute.  He told me at the end that he picked out what he wore cause he knew I'd like it.  It was sweet.  And the date?  It was unique and fun and sensual.  

And as I drove home, I thought "three months."  It's a lot of time.  Enough to know I'm done shitting, done fishing.  I'm off the pot and cutting bait.  

Comme Ca

For the last few months, the place that's generated a buzz around L.A. has been Comme Ca. Last night, Razor Burn, Unicorn and I decided to check it out.

It's pretty spectucular. The space was pleasant, understated and not overbearingly kitschy--no Eiffel Towers, no bordello reds, no Victorian lighting. Chalkboards and aprons gave just a hint of Le Provence. The food, however, was refreshing in being unapologetically French in the heart of health conscious, carb conscious, fat conscious West Hollywood.

We started with the East Side Cocktail which I later discovered could be adjusted with individual choice of liquor and corresponding name change. Try it with tequila...yumm. The Rumble was a little odd though. Kind of like those shaved ice desserts of childhood except with alcohol. Then we had the escargots Persillade which was all kinds of garlicy, buttery goodness. Coq au vin left a little to be desired, but the Wild Salmon with gnocchi (wait that's not totally French) was very satisfying.

The desserts looked good, but way too full.

The best part of the night though? Our waiter was a dirty blonde with a slim fit, short sleeved, gingham shirt that showed off the most amazing set of arms. Oh so HOT. Even Razor Burn agreed: "I gotta say, that is one good looking man.

So food? Four stars. Wait staff? Five...although based on the pants I'm guessing at least eight and a half.

Oh and there was also a celeb sighting...Mr. Jay from America's Next Top Model--a lot taller than I would have thought.

Week in Review '08.20

5/10 - You'd think past experience would've taught me to temper my excitement with some reserve, but all I could focus on was the date. I couldn't get past clients at Job #2 quickly enough. I couldn't get through all the little errands I had to do before he arrived quickly enough. It turns out, however, I could, and then I couldn't get through waiting for him to arrive at 7:30 quickly enough.

And despite all the unfounded excitement and the disappointment of the perfect planned romantic date fall apart, it was still quite nice. Just a quiet night, unassuming evening with Secret.

5/11 - My day of rest was anything but. I took my parents out for a Mother's Day lunch. The restaurant? Her choice. The interiors were exposed red brick, but not natural brick red. It was a glossy fire engine red. And the molding? Yellow. Not butter yellow. Canary yellow. My mother fawned over how great the service was and how quickly they brought out the food. Under five minutes between ordering and presentation, I shit you not. Somehow, I remain unconvinced that that's really a good thing. I think my mom chose the place just to piss off her gay son.

I dropped them off at their home and had to make my way to the Grove just to cleanse the palate. I picked up Dutch along the way, and we spent a pleasant afternoon watching Iron Man. That movie kicks ass.

I had made dinner plans with the Straights but since Razor Burn called to confirm while I was in the movie and I couldn't respond because, well, I was in the movie, he and his girlfriend made other plans. As it turned out Guido was just across the street, and so he met up with Dutch and me for drinks and a nice little dinner at the Whisper Lounge at the Grove.

It was a nice day.

5/12 - I worked out with my trainer and called it a night.

5/13 - Just because of our failed attempt to meet for dinner on Sunday, the Straights and I got together for dinner on Tuesday at Iroha, just Guido, Razor Burn, Unicorn and me. It was one of those weird nothing really happened kind of nights that will stand out in my mind because even though nothing happened because it was perfect--great people, great conversation, just perfect.

And then we had to end it on a hunt for a pecan pie similar to the one Razor Burn had fallen in love with at the Abbey. So we went to Dupar's, and even though we didn't find a pecan pie (they were all out), we did find the place where happiness goes to die.

5/14 - I don't get sick. Even though I see tons of people who carry with them and on them millions and millions of germs, I hardly ever get sick. I made it through one of the worst cold and flu seasons I've ever seen completely unscathed, until Wednesday. Sore throat. Sweats. Lightheadedness. I fucking got sick. But oh did it feel good to just stay home on a week day. Gotta get sick more often.

Although the next time, I'll try not to get sick when I'm on call. Cause that sucks to take the day off due to illness only to have to go in at night because my call shift is from 10 pm to 7 am.

5/15 - Even though I worked a half day because it WAS after all Thursday, I still saw sixteen patients. Even more amazing is that some of them were patients who were scheduled for the day before who, despite the fact that my throat still hurt, despite the fact that I would break out in random febrile sweats in front of patients, despite the fact that I was still a little lightheaded, and despite the fact that my voice was as hoarse and as manly as Lauren Bacall's, called me completely pissed, "Well you have to see me today. You got the day off yesterday and they bumped my appointment and my ankle doesn't feel well. I don't care what you have to do, but you're going to see me today."

Surprised by the behavior? You shouldn't be. It happens every day.

I was glad to get outta there by 2:00 to make it to Job #2 where I had to meet with a client at 2:15. I got more work done and rushed outta there to make it on time to meet up at the gym with...drum roll, please...Secret.

It was great, although he made me feel like a pussy, struggling to throw up two plates and a quarter on bench presses while he easily whipped off three sets of ten. And despite looking lean and trim, is deceptively strong, easily lifting more weight on every exercise than I could. Why the fuck am I paying a personal trainer again? In any case, it was nice, and he was flirty.

Then the Straights (this time Sunshine and Razor Burn) met me at a local bar for happy hour where they defended, without provocation, the right of gay people to marry. I then met with the O-Bar group at O-Bar for my second happy hour of the day. I still felt a little shitty, so I left early.

5/16 - T.G.I.F. I couldn't wait to get this week over with. And all I did was go home, have a couple of drinks and dinner with a friend as we watched the best episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer ever--Once More with Feeling.

Dollhouse

So Joss Whedon, creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Elizu Dushku, from Bring It On or even better Faith from Buffy? How could this NOT be my next favorite show?