We Did It Again... This Time At the Chateau Marmont

On Friday night Steve and I went to the famous Chateau Marmont for dinner with our friend Shamaa. We'd all been looking forward to it, and during the week Shamaa (who'd been sick) and I (who had also been sick) swapped emails about times, picking one another up, making reservations, etc.

All was good and we were excited! We arrived at Le Chateau in our Mini Cooper and drove to the valet.

"Do you have a dinner reservation?" he asks. I nod and he tells us to pull forward. We get out and another valet (there are like 8) asks the same thing. I give the same answer. Then Steve says to Shamaa, "I'm so sure. Who shows up to the Chateau Marmont on a Friday night without reservations?" We all laugh and giggle and walk into the hotel.

Here's the thing: Steve and Shamaa have never been inside the hotel. I've been twice: once for a drink and another time while delivering some stuff to Keanu Reeves who was staying there-- I only mention it's Keanu so I can name drop, ya see.

Anyway, both those times were over 10 years ago so none of us knew where we were going. And when you enter the hotel you walk up a tight staircase that looks like you're going to the rooms, so the three of us kept stopping and turning to make sure we hadn't missed the front entrance. Clearly we looked like visitors because a maid stopped to direct us to the restaurant... four more stairs away from where we stood.

Whatever. We made it, walked up to the hostess, and I turned to Shamaa. "What name did you put it under?" Shamaa looks at me, I look at her, we both swear something completely inappropriate for the hostess stand at the restaurant at Le Chateau and look horrified because now we REALLY look like tourists who bullshat their way in hoping to see a celeb or crash a party.

"We're totally here Anthony Bourdain-style because we've got no reservations!" I say, which does cause us to laugh as we quickly slink back out of Le Chateau and get the car where we avoid eye contact with the valets. All of them.


Here's the thing: As you may recall, a couple weeks back I mixed up plans with our friends Saydi and Eric, causing Steve and I to show up a week early for dinner. The other story is that Shamaa and her husband got Steve's and my wedding date mixed up and showed up a day late.

The lesson? Shamaa and I are not a good team for making plans when we're both getting over illnesses.

Anyway, we took off to Pizzeria Mozza (Nancy Silverton and Mario Batali's restaurant) for pizza and wine. Night saved, but it wasn't what we'd hoped.

I Got Hit On the Other Day

"So what do you do for fun?" the married Mexican man asked me the other day. We were at the YMCA, in the locker room, when he spoke to me. I'd seen him there before, usually working out with a very large woman, and we'd nodded to one another before but we'd never spoken.

Though Steve and I met at the gym, I don't really socialize there. And I definitely don't socialize in the locker room.

The old guys have no problem doing this. In fact, I think they do that more than they actually work out.

They stand around, naked, old man junk with enormous amounts of untrimmed hair hanging about, and chat about stuff. Random stuff. Not just politics, but things like the weather, traffic, and how they are all suffering from countless pains but they're surviving and that is something.

I don't get into that. I like to shower, put on some cute clothes, apply my lotions and potions (eye creams and face creams) where there's good lighting (because our bathroom lighting is horrible), and then happily head off to work. But the married Mexican has put a change to that.

"So what's your name?" he asked, dressed in a suit with his hand outstretched. This normally wouldn't seem odd except that I was in towel. So I shook his hand, introduced myself and then went back to going through my clothes so that I didn't have to drop the towel. He walked off for some reason, I quickly put my undies on, and he reappeared. He then started undressing.

"So what do you do for fun?" he asked. I laughed uncomfortably. He laughed uncomfortably.

Now it's been ages since I've been hit on in an environment where people pretend to be straight, but as I recall, this was the intro line (followed by an uncomfortable laugh) that one always asked to ferret out if the other guy was gay or not. And since I have a wedding ring on, he might not have known.

For those of you wondering-- and I know you're out there-- no, he wasn't cute. Even if I was single and he wasn't married, I wouldn't do it. Maybe if it was last call in a small town bar and I hadn't been laid in a month or 10, but not under ordinary circumstances.

So here's what I stutter...

"Nothing. Nothing really. I mean, I'm into circus stuff. I do trapeze stuff, you know-- aerial arts-- like Cirque du Soleil, it's a good workout."

He acknowledged that this was pretty studly of me. But from there he talked about how he used to work out, have a body, kind of lost it but it's not too bad, trying to get it, but I have a great body and maybe he should try trapeze stuff at some point...

I didn't hear anything in detail. I just dressed very rapidly, shoved everything in my bag (including my lotions and potions which I had to apply at work in the men's room) and I haven't been back to the gym since. Of course, the reason for that is because I'm home sick with the flu.

We'll see what happens when I hit the gym next week.

Best Photo EVER & Random Celeb Sighting

Otto and Hannah on Halloween last year.
Their mom is Saydi, who performed our wedding. Their dad Eric was our photographer. Hannah started getting into Wonder Woman last year, so I provided valuable Superfriends DVDs for her to watch. Otto loves sock puppets because, well, Mom and Dad love sock puppets.

Steve and I had dinner with the family on Friday and saw this insane picture of the kids from Halloween, and I knew I had to post it here.

RANDOM CELEB SIGHTING:
On Sunday, Steve and I were shopping at Vons Hollywood for our weekly groceries. We ran into Kiefer Sutherland who was also shopping for groceries (he told the butcher he had something going on Oscar evening-- but we never found out what it was.) Each time we passed him, we happened to be saying something random and silly. For example...

Steve (In the produce aisle, with great passion.): I'm going to buy grapes and I don't care who knows it!
This was when Steve first noticed Kiefer... standing behind him.

Steve (As I head down the water/soda aisle.): What are you getting?
Me (With equal grapey-passion.): Starbucks Double Shots and Redbulls are on sale! You know we need to stock up!
This is where I almost bump into Kiefer because I'm not watching where I'm walking. I do say, "Excuse me..." before quickly grabbing two Redbull packs and one Starbucks pack because we did, indeed, need to stock up.

He's much taller than we expected and with great, tight skin. We wanted to ask him his trade secrets, but he never went down the cosmetics aisle like us. Was he scared of our outbursts? Or that we were closely examining acne cream?

Who can say...

Check Out 13 Love Stories NOW!

13 Stories is a marriage equality project produced by UCLA's Dr. David Gere, the Art / Global Health Center, and the UCLA LGBT Center.

Those of us promoting equality in this country are hoping to create a groundswell moving toward March 5, when oral arguments on Prop. 8 are heard by the CA Supreme Court.
Please view it, read about the project, and then share with your friends today. Put it on your Facebook page. It's amazing!

Valentine's Day Weekend

Steve and I are not very big on VD (Valentine's Day, silly). When we started dating we'd do flowers and such, but that eventually faded because, well... I'm cheap. Between over-priced flowers, packed restaurants with limited, over-priced menus, and just too much hype surrounded this fabricated holiday, Steve and I came to skipping the whole "going out" affair and making the holiday our own.

Besides, if you really want to make me smile then send flowers on a random crappy day, not on a day when everyone at the office is looking to compare what they got to what you got.

So instead, Steve and I have a date night at home where we make an extra-special dinner and enjoy ourselves.
This year, we made Thanksgiving dinner.

WHAT?

Well, the idea was simple. Normally we'd make filet mignon or something vaguely fancy, but over time that's become less special. This past year, however, we didn't host Thanksgiving nor did we make a traditional turkey dinner for Christmas. And since we love that meal very much, we decided to make it for ourselves.

It also gave us an excuse to finally use the Fiestaware gravy boat we got at the wedding.

If you've been following along to the blog for any length of time, you'll know that we always prepare Rachel Ray's Thanksgiving in 60 (Don't judge us for that-- she hadn't become manic and crazy when she did that special, and it's seriously a fool-proof way of cooking turkey breast). Steve made his dad's famous stuffing, which I have to say was almost as good as his father's (meaning we'll need to make it again and again to perfect things, ya see), and a root vegetable gratin that we saw in a recent issue of Food & Wine Magazine.

And Steve picked up a bottle of 2005 Logan Pinot Noir from the Sleepy Hollow Vineyard in Monterey. An incredible bottle and worth the price.
We ate, drank, hung out, watched a screener of Slumdog Millionaire. All in all, it was a perfectly lovely evening.

Random Celeb Sightings this Weekend

Saturday Night Live alum, Rachel Dratch, last Thursday night at Cole's-- the historic 1908 restaurant (newly reopened) in downtown LA where some believe the French dip sandwich was invented.

We'd just finished watching Lucha Va Voom and needed dinner. Our friend Michele opened the door for her, not realizing who it was.

Sheryl Crow, this morning, walking her baby with some friends at Runyon Canyon.

We didn't her if she knew a Bill or Billy or Mack or Buddy. But we did joke about it.



Speaking of Runyon Canyon, last week we ran into Los Angeles Mayor, Antonio Villaraigosa.

The interesting thing? Steve will notice a celeb who was on one episode of Buffy ten years ago. In fact, he recognized Sheryl when no one else at Runyon did.

Me? I recognize the Mayor. See, we balance one another out very nicely.

Did You See Us on TV? And Lucha... VA VOOM!

Steve and I were on HGTV this morning. It was amazing. Hope you caught the episode. I wonder how it ends???
So last night Steve and I went to the historic Mayan theater in downtown LA for Lucha Va Voom!

Lucha Va Voom is a crazy show, mixing Mexican wrestling with a burlesque show. There was a documentary about Lucha Libre and the birth of Lucha Va Voom a couple years ago and I'd interviewed the filmmaker, which is how I first heard of this event. But it's truly insane, with fabulous costumes, hilarious performances, and some real pulse-pounding, acrobatic wrestling that is pretty freakin' insane.

While American WWF wrestling has it's own sort of storylines, Mexican wrestlers do these crazy flips and twists in the air that leave you gasping in disbelief. They even fly in to the audience without any fear. It's insane.
Here's the beautiful Mayan theater, with lines of people waiting to get in. It was a sold out show.
Here are the hot rods that the wrestlers arrive in.

In honor of Valentine's Day, the show started with an Adam & Eve sort of sexy show, with Satan being on tissu. I felt quite at home.

As I'm watching, it was interesting to realize that I knew all the moves the performer was doing... until he started stripping. Yeah. Stripping while in the air. Granted they were tear-away pants but it was a fun little addition. The pounding rock music added to Satan's frenetic movements, which covered up the fact that it was probably really tough to strip down in any kind of elegant fashion.

I think (much to Steve's worry) I should remember those moves for my next aerial showcase.
Here we are with Michele and Frank, who have attended before. They've been friends of ours for years and are both wonderful artists. As a side note, I performed Frank and Michele's wedding. (There was no masked wrestling at that event. Perhaps that evening, but I wouldn't know about that.)
Some sexy kittens, anyone?
This is Dirty Sanchez (with the mustache and murkin). He's a bad guy who's nasty as can be-- and a crowd favorite as a result.








For example, he usually has "an accident" in the middle of performances, allowing the hero wrestlers to take advantage of the situation (family members, quickly scroll past this photo).

They also have midget wrestlers, which I have to say is genius. But the Crazy Chickens are also incredible. Here's one (a chicken midget wrestler--- INSANE) flying through the air. Action shot!
And then there was Cassandro-- drag stripper-- who was the highlight of the show. Here was her power move.
Needless to say, she won.

Steve and I Are on HGTV This Friday Morning!

For those of you new to the story, about three years ago Steve and I were on the HGTV program Urban Outsiders. The network is finally rerunning our episode and it’s being shown this Friday, January 13th, at either 7am or 4am depending on if you get the east coast feed via satellite or not.
Be amazed as our our backyard (of the once-named "Pink Cupcake House") goes from this colorful mess into a Modern Med oasis.
Marvel as Steve and I look at plans very seriously, lift giant plants through tiny alleyways and paint walls in the rain. Laugh as we make inappropriate jokes that some audience members completely miss, and enjoy the crew being in on the joke and making similar inappropriate comments about our "back alley."

It's a good time. Truth.

Evidently, You Can Get Laid During Jury Duty

I have Jury Duty in March and whether you want an extension or not you have to register. So I did. At work (because I'm so busy I can't remember to do these things once I finally get home and go to bed).

So I put my phone on speaker and quickly dial, enjoying my "hands free" multitasking experience. Just as the line starts ringing, my boss walks up.

"Welcome to the hottest location in Los Angeles," said a sultry voice. "With the biggest group of sluts every assembled in one place!"

CLICK! I shut off the speaker phone and look sheepishly at my boss-- who is also gay, and having heard the woman's voice I'm sure he knows this was not intentional. Still, he asks...

"What was that?"

"I was calling Jury Duty..." I say.

"Okay," he responds, surprised by my answer. "Wow."

Turns out (when I hit redial so he and I could figure out what the hell happened) that the LA Jury Duty call center is one digit off from a sweet little phone sex line. Case dismissed.

This Is How Stressed I Am Because of Work

Steve and I knock on our friend Saydi's front door.

"Who is it?" she asks from inside.

How cute, I think. She's playing a game with the kids so they can be surprised by our visit.

"Rick & Steve," we both say in unison because we talk like that.

The door opens and Saydi is in her pajamas, holding her baby in her arm, looking exhausted. We're dressed up with a bag of wine, cupcakes and guacamole. We were supposed to be having dinner and those were the things we were tasked to bring.

"Hellooooo..." she says, confused.

"Did you forget about dinner tonight at 7?" I ask.

"Um, dinner's for next Saturday. The 7th."

Yes, we showed up a week early, because I've been so busy with work I haven't been reading my emails very closely. I saw Saturday, I saw 7, and so we showed up.

The good news was Saydi and the kids had no plans, so Steve and I watched Scooby Doo with Hannah while Saydi put her son, Otto, to bed. Then we ordered pizza, drank wine, ate cupcakes, and looked up crap on YouTube all night. The bad news was her husband, Eric, was away on a photo shoot (he's an amazing photographer-- and shot our wedding).

So that was our rehearsal. Tomorrow night is the real deal. Let's hope I get the time right.

WORD OF THE WEEEEEKKKKKKK!!!!! (February 4, 2009)

The word of the week is: Peeoccupied

Definition: Adjective. When you can't focus on anything going on around you because you have to pee really badly.

In a scene:
Rick & Steve watch The Curious Case of Benjamin Button with their friend BD.

RICK (to Steve): Did you like the movie?

STEVE: It was so long and I had to pee so bad in the second half that I couldn't focus on the film.

BD: Ahh, you were peeoccupied.

Thanks to BD for this week's word! And for more Words of the Week, visit the Archives!

Editorial on Gay Mayor Sam Adams (and a little sex talk)

Have you all been following the story of Sam Adams, the handsome gayor (Gay Mayor) from Portland, OR? He's in hot water for lying about hooking up with some young buck, who was either 17 or 18 when it happened-- the jury is still out on that.

Some people (gay and straight) are calling for his resignation, either for the lying or for the sex. As someone who first hooked up at 15 (and thought I was a real stud because I'd bagged a 23 year old) the sex part doesn't bother me. When a guy (gay or straight) hits his late teens he's thought about sex so much that he's no longer innocent in his mind, and he'll spot any real opportunity and take it. In fact, I bet if you asked an honest 17-year-old straight guy, he'd say he'd nail a hot woman in her 20s, 30s, or 40s in a heartbeat. Guys, ya see, are guys.

Lying? Well, the second you lie then you make your act seem evil, dirty. People stop trusting you and then you're in a whole other mess of crap.

That all said, I don't know a heck of a lot about the gayor's case (I just wanted to brag about bagging a 23 year old when I was 15). I heard about the story on NPR one day and it's since faded. But I did read a great editorial from Byron Beck who talks about when gays play "the gay card" and what that causes. It's an interesting take, not so much on the Sam Adams story but how it reflects larger issues of queer identity and sex.

It's short. Check it out.