Vanguard: A Miscellany

Week in Review '07.39

9/22 - Even though it was a Saturday, someone had to work. It's going to be routine actually once the new business takes off...if it does (long story). Razor Burn picked me up at 9:00 am and we headed for the conference. It was actually good, informative. But by 1:00 pm, we were over it. We headed to the gym instead, hung out at my place and finalized plans to meet up again that night at the W with Sunshine, Mrs. Sunshine, the Argentinian and Guido.

Best laid plans, however. The Argentinian was invited to finish off the Jewish holiday with a family she had met at synagogue, the Sunshines didn't feel up to it, and I don't remember Guido's excuse. So having already turned down an invite to another party, R.B. and I decided to make it a mellow night--dinner and a movie

We went to Tia Juana for margaritas and burritos. It ended up being one of those really cool dinners you have with a friend when, despite having known each other for some time, you find out even more. Nothing earth shattering, nothing life changing, but definitely just a cool time.

We left in time to make it to the 10:15 showing of 3:10 to Yuma, and as we passed the W, we decided, fuck it. We went in for cocktails and continued our conversation.

9/23 - I'd been flaking on Sucker, so I promised I'd work out with him on Sunday. That ended at noon. Then I drove over to Groeg's to help take care of some of his moving issues. We finished at 4:00 and headed over to Dutch's to return his car which he had graciously loaned me while my car was in the shop...again. Then we all went to the airport to pick up Fishering (and Groeg's car which he had in the airport parking lot...long, interstate moving story) before Groeg was finally able to drop me off at my apartment. I arrived a little late for a family dinner because they had all just gotten back from the Philippines earlier in the week.

I headed home relatively early, and driving by WeHo, I got a call from a friend to meet up. I figured why not. And then...and then I met a really, really cute boy. A 32 year old who was 6'1", dark hair, piercingly blue eyes, ripped body (he said he thought he was too skinny--while he grabbed my arms :), and a chin butt. You know, the kind of chin that has a cleft that almost looks like he has an ass on the bottom of his face. Anyway, I thought he was very sweet until he revealed how the last guy he had dated had broken his heart and how most guys couldn't or didn't want to understand that at this point, he just wanted friends. FUCK!

We talked for a while. He'd been in L.A. for two years and had some interesting insights on the social dynamics of this town: "It's a bunch of lonely people hiding in a crowd." He's from the midwest where people are much nicer. But he was also very inquisitive, asking about me and my life. It was sweet, and then it was time for me to go. He gave me his card; everyone has one nowadays. Then he gave me a hug and a kiss. Then he commented on my body before spanking my ass. Twice. I'm wondering why guys didn't understand that he just wanted to be friends.

But man! That guy! Woof!

9/24 - Worked out after work. Then Heroes! I love that show.

9/25 - We had last supper--me, Razor Burn and Guido. After work, I drove over the Guido's. We all had a couple of drinks before driving into Hollywood for Thai food at Chan Darae. Honestly, the dynamic is pretty cool with the three of us. I think it's virtually impossible for me to have a bad time with these guys.

We went our separate ways by 9:30 which gave me just enough time to get home, go to bed, and then get awakened by my pager at least six time throughout the course of the night. I was on call.

9/26 - At 6:00 am I was at the hospital with very little meaningful sleep admitting a patient for a somewhat bogus diagnosis. The E.R. doctor had called saying someone was having a heart attack, when if the patient had been interviewed appropriately, it would have been clear that he just had an anxiety attack. And he'd already had a cardiac stress test not too long ago. Why does everyone make my job harder?

Anyway, I had taken the morning off. Not because I was on call, but because I had to take Razor Burn to the hospital. He was having surgery that day which is why we called the previous night's dinner "last supper." So I picked him up, took him to the surgery center and waited until they took him into the prep area. Then I worked out, did a bunch of errands, and went back when they informed me he was back in recovery.

Actually, it was kind of funny when I walked into recovery, and the nurses recognized me, whispering to each other, "Is that Dr. V?" I told them that Razor Burn was one of my patients and that I always check up on them after surgeries before personally driving them home. Some of them actually believed me, and I never confirmed or denied if I was just kidding.

Then I finished off my afternoon session, went to http://www.burkewilliamsspa.com/ for a massage, then crashed. I slept like a baby for the first time in weeks.

9/27 - I had date night. We'd planned for weeks. We went to happy hour at Fat Fish which was amazing. Try the prickly cactus fruit margarita. Yum! And the sushi, as always, was fantastic. I need to remember that place for happy hour. Afterwards we went to the Poliform store which was doing a grand re-opening and celebrating in conjunction with Dwell magazine. More amazing food, free wine, and a lot of furniture that I will never be able to afford.

Here's the thing about design industry. Men in the design industry are just like Europeans, you can't tell if they're gay or straight. There were two really cute brothers who owned a furniture company--tall, hot, slim fitting slacks, pointy toed shoes, and funky jackets. Gay? Not so much. Or the interior designer carrying a murse (in this case not a male nurse, but a man purse). Again gay? Again not so much. Neither was the uber well dressed German representative for Bang and Olufsen, or his 23 year old twink protege. Then there was Owen, a guy on Dwell's staff who was at least 6'3" and looked like a hotter version of Ewan McGregor. A girlfriend and I went and talked to him, using the fact that he was photographing the place with a Nikon as our entree into conversation. I got no vibe from him. But damn he was cute.

And so we ended date night at 10:00. Although I think we both thought it a bit creepy that we both independently referred to it as date night. I hung out all evening with my sister Vanessa.

9/28 - Even though I had a truncated work week with two half days, I still felt like I'd run a marathon by the time 5:30 rolled around on Friday. I was so glad to be done. I drove over to Razor Burn's and met Guido there. We were just going to hang out to make sure our post-op friend wasn't going crazy with cabin fever since he still couldn't drive. Guido brought over some take out sushi. We had a couple of drinks, then kicked back and watched a few episodes of one of my new favorite shows--Human Weapon. Can I just say I'm in love with Jason Chambers? The man is hot, and he can kick anyone's ass.

I headed out at 9:00 for a poker game with some of the volleyball guys--Blue-Eyed Dan, Green Lantern and another guy. Weird that I've never played poker before considering I was in a fraternity.

Ready for the weekend.

Head Shot

Two Sundays ago, I shot one of Dutch's friends. She needed head shots.

She should have asked someone else.

Sadly, these are among the better ones.

I need to practice more...or take some classes.

Strange Days

Every once in a while, it's not just one patient. It's not even two patients. It seems as though it is every single fucking patient.

8:30, the very first apointment of the day, and it did not start off well. Not well at all. "He says he's here for a physical, but when I told him he wasn't scheduled for that, he said there was private stuff." Private stuff--that either means he has burning, drippy dick or one that doesn't work.

He loves his girlfriend of six months. Loves her. Loves her, lovesherlovesher. He told me so. When he's alone he fantasizes about her. He masturbates thinking about her. He told me so. I know. Kind of overshare, right? The problem is when they get together to do the deed, well...let's just say that the reason for his visit wasn't the drippy dick.

At twenty-four, he was sure they were meant to be. Even though they fought all the time. Even though she bitched him out all the time. Even though she belittled him all the time. Hmm, I wonder why he couldn't get it up. So thirty minutes later, a verbal ass-whooping later, one emotionally drained physician later, he agreed to not take anti-anxiety medications which would likely result in an even less functioning penis and seek out counselling, either by himself of couples counselling.

I saw my 8:45 at 9:10. "I was about to look for the doctor. I thought you might have left and forgotten all about me." OK, she was 79 years old, and even though I don't condone elder abuse, I don't think it's a crime to fantasize about it--the sarcastic bitch. And then, she started in on..."Oh doctor, if I was younger. You and me. You know what I'm saying." And then she started crying. She needed her anti-depressant dose adjusted.

From then until lunch, it was back to back to back Spanish speaking patients only. It's not a problem, but after a while it does get challenging.

The afternoon wasn't much better.

At 2:00, one patient called, demanding to have his call returned stat.

"Mr. Brown, it's Dr. V. I have a message you called."

"Come on, now Dr. V. You're a friend. You know you can call me Gary. Anyone who saves my life can't call me Mr. Brown. It's Gary."

"Hey, I only saved your life a little."

Still, Gary refused to come in despite the possibility of a urinary tract infection. It's unusual in men. It needs to be investigated further, especially since he's had it happen twice. He wasn't buying it. This week was way too busy. So I cut him a deal: I'd call in antibiotics, but he had to see me next week otherwise I wouldn't refill his other medications when they run out. It just seems weird that I have to bargain with patients to give them proper medical care.

And then there was Mr. Fernandez. Ah, Mr. Fernandez. I see him twice a month. For things like moles that he's had in the morning that have disappeared by the time he makes it to the appointment that he has demanded for the very same day. This time he had problems with shortness of breath.

"So when does this happen.?"

"Well I'm not sure how long it's been there, but my wife noticed it."

"You mean you yourself don't notice it?"

"No, but we were exercising, and she told me I was breathing hard."

"So you breathe hard when you exercise?"

"Yeah, and it really only happens when I'm walking uphill."

"So what makes the shortness of breath better?"

"Well as soon as we start going downhill, I do pretty good."

Again, another thirty minutes spent trying to convince him that without any other risk factors, his abnormality was pretty normal. How about losing some weight there, buddy.

It finally ended. After seeing the woman who came to me with a toothache because she hadn't thought first to see the dentist, it finally ended.

Yeah, one of those days. I left frustrated. This wasn't what I went to medical school for--relationship counselling, psychiatry, hypochondriasis. And then I remembered. I remembered that he remembered. Gary actually remembered...that I actually had saved his life. It wasn't so bad after all.

Week in Review '07.38

9/15 - It was the beginning of a bad week of working out. I was supposed to get to the gym at 8:00, allowing myself an hour of cardio before meeting up with Sucker. Didn't really happen. I got there at 9:00 which left me enough time to shower and pretty up for yet another summer pool party. Only, I didn't. I didn't feel like it. At all.

I should have just stayed home, but I had that stupid, nagging "what if I miss an opportunity" thing, especially since I knew that one guy I'd met with and connected with at a previous pool party was going to be there. The party was OK. I met a couple of interesting people. No one I was particularly interested in, including the guy from before. But that was OK.

I was so tired, I fell asleep early.

9/16 - This was going to be a tough day to juggle. Working out? Not an option, not with everything planned.

I got my stuff ready at 8:00 to prepare for a photo shoot. One of Dutch's friends needed new head shots, and she asked me to do them. We tried to catch the morning light and reached the Disney Concert Hall by 9:00.

They weren't the best. I need to learn lighting and composition. I need to learn how to give direction. But it was fun.

We finished by 11:00, and I headed straight for Groeg's new digs. He is moving back to L.A. and I promised to help out. We set up a floor plan, then went to IKEA, and finished by 4:30. I finished at 4:30 because I was on to my next scheduled event.

Razor Burn's friend was determined to set me up. She had met a gay guy who she thought was perfect for me. She and another friend planned it out. We were all to meet at Joseph's. It was a hip, cool place to meet the tall, dark, handsome man that one of them had fallen for, only it turned out he batted for my team. So Joseph's, a Hollywood hotspot frequented by the likes of Lindsay Lohan? It sucked! It was dirty with cigarette ash all over the floor and populated by strange, unattractive patrons. Most of them were amazingly cracked out. Some actually fell to the floor, they were so fucked up. As for the guy? I don't know. He didn't show.

So I left at 6:30 and met up with Groeg and Mercury for dinner at Hamburger Mary's.

9/17 -

Sunshine came by work to save my sanity by taking me out for sushi during lunch. I love that guy!

After work, I drove to Mexicali to meet up with Razor Burn and Sunshine for a business meeting. We spent a few hours working out a marketing strategy, and did a great job with the plans if I do say so myself.

I was driving home and passed Dutch's apartment when I realized I needed to pee soooooo badly. I had to stop. I called, went up, peed, hung out for a few minutes, then headed back out. But here's what's weird--on the way back to the car, I ran into a guy I'd met briefly a while ago. We started talking and ended up hanging out for a couple of hours. On a fucking school night! This was going to kill my Tuesday.

9/18 - I got up at 5:45 to get to the gym by 6:00 which I did, only to turn around as soon as I got there cause I was dead fucking tired!

Work was work. Then after work, I went back to Groeg's for more work. This time it was to paint. We finished by around 8:30 then went to a Thai restaurant called Sweet Chili in WeHo. Can you say exhausted?

9/19 - Got to the gym. This time I stayed. Alas, no weights, just cardio.

Work was strange. "How are you doing?" I asked my patient.

"Not so good, doctor." And she started to cry. It's hard to see an 84 year old cry. But I understood. Her grand daughter died since her last visit, found face down at the family's pool, dead at the age of 32--the second grand daughter that she will have to bury. "They're supposed to bury us," she said.

My Straights made the day OK. The plan of meeting at Iroha sushi got me through until 7:30 when we met, this time with our new friend, the Argentinian--one of the cute girls we had met at Dirty Sanchez's birthday pool party. We had dinner, went out for drinks, then Razor Burn and I left for another marketing meeting with Sunshine and his wife.

Yeah, another long ass day.

9/20 - Thursday, Thursday didn't start out so great. My car was acting up...again! Fortunately, I was taking care of my Dad's car while he and most of my family were in the Philippines. I finished my half day, left my car at the shop, walked to the gym and ran for half an hour before Sucker showed up for our weight training. He dropped me off at home, and I got a call from one of my best friends.

"Hey, V. Don't mean to bother you, but I have a question for you. My brother was just taken to the emergency room. He had a seizure. I just needed to pick your brain about the whole seizure thing."

I talked to him. Answered all of his questions as best as I could. It sucks when you feel like you don't have anything substantive to offer. I felt impotent.

I wanted to take my mind off things and was grateful for the plans I'd made with Dutch for that evening. We were going to O-Bar for happy hour and then grab dinner. But as we walked his dog before heading out, I got the other call, the "I have weird news for you" call, the call that let me know one of my dear friends is, at the age of 37, a widower, and his two young children, motherless.

Thursday was a tough day.

9/22 - Again, no gym. Too tired. Up too late. And work just dragged. I just wanted to go home. After work, I made my phone calls. I tried Brent to send my condolences. I just got the answering machine. It was Lisa's voice, "We're not home. Leave a message." Then I called my other friend. His brother had another seizure. And his grandmother died. Seriously, what the fuck?!

I spent a mellow night at home with Mercury who came by to help me out with my camera and some Photoshop tips.

I'm ready for a new week.

Lisa

Have you ever had one of those friends that you think of often, and yet because of time or distance or circumstance, you rarely ever connect? Lisa is one of those for me.

The last time I saw her was three, maybe four months ago—at Bina’s birthday. It was yet another of those San Diego kids’ parties that I seem always to attend. I got there early to help set up. Lisa arrived an hour or two later. She walked in past the throng of toddlers and parents with Jackie Onassis sunglasses and her one year old carried at her hip. She was the picture of modern motherhood. And she screamed my name, “VAN!” betraying just the little bit of New York that remained after almost a decade in California.

She gave me a hug and a kiss before filling me in on what changes had occurred since the last time I’d seen her—the new baby, the new house, her mother’s passing, etc. But she was radiant. She was. Motherhood suited her well, especially with this, her second child. But it was no surprise. She had always been the nurturer.

I remember several years before, before they had kids, while they were considering undergoing artificial insemination. She insisted that I stay with her and Brent in San Diego, even if for only one night. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. I was grateful, honestly. I wasn’t sure how they truly felt about my coming out. It was at a time that I braced myself for the possible loss of some friends because of my little “secret”. But they were great. So great in fact that not only did I stay the night, but my ex-boyfriend had come along as well.

In the morning, we sat around their patio drinking coffees and eating Danish while the ex slept in til noon. As always, she was inquisitive, but in a good way. Her heart was always in the right place. “So is he your type? He’s very cute. How did you meet?” And then, “Honestly, I think you could do better.”

I love her for that…among other things.

And on occasions like that, when amidst our busy lives we were able to get together, we always reminisced about our time in Redondo Beach, eight years ago. When my best friend from college Eric and his future wife Kimberly and their friend Brent and his future wife Lisa all hung out at the beach, playing volleyball for seven or eight hours on Saturdays and Sundays, finishing off with beers at Harry O’s. We were all so close back then. So much so that Brent and Lisa insisted that I move into the vacant apartment in their building. She promised to cook me dinners after my long days at the hospital as a resident in exchange for my company when Brent was away on business. We saw each other every day. It was great.

But yeah, she’s one of those friends. I don’t see her often enough.

The last I heard of her was on Thursday, yesterday, when Kimberly called. “I have the weirdest news.”

I read it in the newspaper later that night: “A single-vehicle accident Thursday at a rainslick…intersection killed a 36-year-old woman, injured her two young children…authorities reported.”

I didn’t see her often enough.

I will miss you dearly, Lisa.

Not Dead

Yeah me. Not dead. Not literally anyway. But between old job, new business venture, keeping up with friends and family, interviewing prospectives for the open position of boyfriend (or one night stand), and going to the gym, I haven't really been able to post.

But not to worry, if I do die I swear I will try to let you know beforehand.

Week in Review '07.37

9/8 - Saturday? Summer? Pool party, of course. It was Dirty Sanchez's thirty third birthday party. We started at noon and ended at 8:00 with lots of chlorinated water and margaritas in between. Some of the highlights? Meeting some of Dirty Sanchez's neighbors--two of the nicest and hottest girls there. Also there was a guy who was drop dead gorgeous with a hot body. Even the straight boys noticed. "Dude, you should tap that," Razor Burn kept prodding. He seemed to be tanning poolside all by himself. Finally Dirty Sanchez offered him a margarita which he accepted and we all ended up in the pool. Yup, my gaydar definitely went off. In fact everyone's did. Score! So I talked to him--for quite a while actually, until Dutch finally asked him point blank. He was, in fact, straight. So much for my gaydar.

Everyone left at 8:00. I was exhausted, but I had to man up. I had another destination that night. Cute Jeff was leaving town, and I promised to make it to his going away party. So off to WeHo it was. At 10:30.

9/9 - Razor Burn called to see if I wanted to do lunch. I figured we would hang out for an hour and I could still make it to the beach for volleyball. We decided on an Argentinian restaurant in the valley called Lala's and met up at noon. We decided to call the Argentinian girls as well.

Let me just say there is nothing better than chilling out at a restaurant patio on a beautiful summer Sunday in L.A. with a really good friend and two amazingly fun new acquaintances. Well unless you also had a mojito which turned into a carafe of red wine sangria that magically turned into two carafes. I never made it to the beach. I never made it to the gym.

Fortunately, I did make it to the Hollywood Bowl just in time to meet up with Cute Jeff and his boyfriend. As it turned out, the Argentinians were huge fans of Underworld and we were able to get them tickets to the show. And it couldn't have happened had it not been for my boyfriend, the love of my life, my iPhone.

9/10 - Nothing really. Worked out. Then went to work. Then worked out with Sucker.

9/11 - I got off the treadmill after having been on for a half hour. It was 8:00 pm and I thought to myself: what the fuck am I doing? It wasn't so much the half hour. It wasn't the forty minutes that I'd worked legs right before doing cardio. It was more that I'd already run an hour at 6:00 in the morning. Um...issues.

9/12 - Played volleyball, then spent the rest of the night/morning trying to keep two people in the ICU from dying.

9/13 - This day was a doozy. After the all nighter at the ICU, I finished out my half day at clinic. I told Sunshine that I probably wouldn't be able to make it up to the the site of the new business venture as we had talked about. But I finished at the clinic about a half hour earlier and I got my second wind. So we met up, did some of the contract negotiations, talked about our business plan and spent some time with the staff talking about some new projects.

Then I went to the gym.

But I still wasn't done. It was a Thursday after all, so O Bar was calling as was Dutch and Mercury. There's something very comforting about a routine like that.

9/14 - All I was looking forward to all day was meeting up with Razor Burn and Guido. We started out for dinner at Bossa Nova. I always get the traditional boneless, skinless chicken with plantains and steamed veggies and a Caipirinha. Sooo good. Afterwards, we walked the half block to Falcon. We'd gotten invites to see some DJ named Ashley Casselle spin there. It was weird...hot women and not so hot men. Seriously, not one cute one. But it was productive. We ran into a bunch of people we had met at the Standard Hotel pool party a few weeks back, met a few new ones, but more importantly, we firmed up plans for a trip in November and our New Year's trip in December/January.

Mission: Impossible

*knock knock knock*

"Dr. V. Dr. V! I need to speak to you."

What the fuck? My nurses know not to fucking interrupt me while I'm in a room with patients. I excused myself, apologizing for the interruption.

She was frantic. "My phone. I was at the front, and I checked that patient in. He's got my phone."

"What are you talking about?"

"There was no one else there. I just left for a second, and I know my phone was right there on the table, and when I went back, it was gone. He was the only one there. And he was acting all weird. Then I tried calling my phone and he already turned it off."

I was pissed! O Beast was my best medical assistant. She always has my back. She works quickly and efficiently. And she's fun to work with. I was pissed. So were the rest of the medical assistants. And so the gears started to turn. We put our heads together to devise a plan.

You could almost hear the theme song. Dum dum. Dumdum dum dum. Dum dum. Dadadum. Dadadum...

I walked back into the room. Angrily, I walked back into the room. And I noticed a cell phone in his hand. And the outline of a cell phone shaped object in his front pocket. He had come in for elbow pain. He didn't need an x-ray. He got an x-ray. He didn't need to take off all of his clothes and put on a hospital gown. He took off all of his clothes and put on a hospital gown. O Beaast was going to check the pants pockets while he had his x-ray done.

That was the plan anyway. But he refused to set his clothes down. The mission was aborted. The mission was impossible. And the patient walked away with O Beast's cell phone.

I felt badly. She was upset.

It just seems so odd that two weeks later, O Beast got fired. Fired for being caught for stealing a co-workers wallet.

Underworld

It's sad sort of. The whole Underworld show on Sunday.

Interestingly, I wasn't even planning on going. It was a last minute thing; I'd actually forgotten that they were in town. But Cute Jeff just happened to have an extra ticket. It seemed fitting, seeing as how he had introduced me to them a few years ago. We were at Amoeba music on some random weekend, and he made me buy Beaucoup Fish as well as BT's Movement in Still Life: "These are the best albums...EVER" in that hyperbolic way that he has a tendency for when talking about music.

So at 6:30, I rushed out of my apartment and drove across town to get to the Hollywood Bowl on time. I did pretty well until I got to the Highland exit. Of course that was busy. Everyone and their mothers were apparently going to be in attendance that night. I got there a little late. It didn't matter; Pure Noise and his boyfriend were even later.

We got to our seats and settled in for the evening--I, with my bottle of Cabernet and they, with whatever it was they brought.

We'd missed Oakenfold and Carmen Rizzo. Serves us right for being late. But really, as soon as Underworld took stage, I don't think anyone cared. It was great watching this 40 something year old with thinning hair and a Peter Allen-esque sequined shirt dance around on stage like Elaine Benes...and still create some amazing music that brought the vast majority of the Bowl to their feet, dancing. Cute Jeff, on more than one occasion described it as "magical"..."This show is magical!" It was that whole thing he has for hyperbole again. Except that it sort of wasn't. There was something about the music and the performance. There was something about the beat that spoke to something primal, something that everyone could understand and connect with. It was obvious just looking around at who the audience was comprised of--young and old, men and women, gay and straight, American or foreign. Regardless of the differences, there was at least one thing that we all connected with. And that is magical.

But it was kind of sad. After volleyball and blogging and O-Bar. After shared attempts at sobriety and abstinence. After the boyfriends that had come and gone. After Scissor Sisters, Stars, U2, Deathcab for Cutie and LCD Soundsystem. After all that, Underworld at the Hollywood Bowl may be the last concert that I attend with Cute Jeff. He's moving to New York. So it was kind of sad.

We didn't hug. We barely even said goodbye. I got lost in the crowd. But he did send me a text: "im SOOOO glad u came!!....thank u for being a friend blanche! lol" Yes that was our sad, weepy goodbye.

So three things: 1) What a concert to end on. 2) No, thank YOU for being a friend, Rose. But seriously shouldn't I be Rose and you be Blanche...seriously. At least neither one is Dorothy. And 3) I'll miss you, kid.

Week in Review '07.36

9/1 - Seriously? It's already September? So I started off September in a frenzy. I got to the gym at 7:00 to run. I'm trying to do five miles a day. I finished at 8:00 giving me enough time to clean up before my haircut at 9:00, followed by a trip to a tailor to get new jeans hemmed, and get back to the gym by 11:00, just in time to meet up with Sucker for an hour of chest and triceps. Again I had just enough time to shower and change, drive to Razor Burn's to pick him up then get to Simi Valley for a BBQ/pool party hosted by one of Sunshine's friends. I got home at 7:00 then went to my sister's for dinner and a movie. Whew!

9/2 - After two hour workout (please, I was going to be shirtless), we went to the Standard Downtown for Room Service. We stayed from noon to 8:00 p.m. when we got kicked out. Yup we got there when it opened and left when it closed.

9/3 - After a nice brunch with Tiger and G Squared, I had my third poolside day in a row. This time at Double M and Rye's along with Fishering and Dutch.

9/4 - Of course, I was going to have to pay for the fun of the weekend. I was on call Tuesday night and it kicked my ass. Two hours of sleep followed by...

9/5 - A full day at the office. No gym for me this day. No volleyball either. I fell asleep at nine.

9/6 - Worked out, then went home. New comics came out today, including Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 8 featuring Faith. Oh it's so good. But that was it. That call night so totally kicked my ass.

9/7 - Work was interesting. I'd sent one of my buddies in for surgery. Nothing big or life threatening, but still surgery. There was sort of a mix up as far as who would pick him up. I figured he'd be done by 10:00 and he could wait in my office until my lunch break at 12:30. It was no big deal; he had the surgery right across the street. It turns out that I had the entire 10:00 hour open, so I went across the street to pick him up and ran into Razor Burn in the surgery center waiting room. We both picked him up and went back to my office, hung out for a bit and booked tickets for our New Years' trip. YUP...our New Years' trip!

Nothing much after that at work, except that there was a lot of it. I didn't finish til 6:15 which meant I didn't finish at the gym until 8:30 which was just enough time to get down to the Sunset Strip to meet up with Razor Burn at Red Rock where he was meeting up with some of his friends--all girls and all volunteering to set me up with their gays. Love the fruit flies!