Just stealin' hubcaps, as usual...

Last weekend was lovely--a beautiful, sunshine and watermelon three-day Memorial Day weekend. Thespian even got Sunday off, which meant we were going to have a whole day together--the first since our fab stay at the Viceroy in Palm Springs back in November. At first, there was talk of us taking off with Mango (Thespian's adorable Visla, pictured top) to a cozy cabin with a hot tub in the redwoods up north... then it was all about finding a hotel room in the city and checking out the Power Exchange...

Anyway, we ended up staying close to home and having one of the best meals of our datedom at Oliveto Saturday night. Then the next day we (along with Mango) headed to Golden Gate Park and a nicely rockin' barbeque with an excellent sound system and DJ (pictured middle), and an ice luge with Acai liquor and organic vodka, and a keg of caffeinated microbrew of some sort.

Then some dude was trying to flirt with me only he was a pompous meathead and was trying to brag about being from Marin and living in Mill Valley all his life and how it's so affluent and nice that he doesn't have to worry about locking his doors. So then I piped up and said, "Oh, yeah? Well, I work in San Rafael and just had my hubcaps stolen" to which he replied, straightfaced and with much seriousness, "Well, that's because there are a lot of MEXICANS there."

Later, while crossing the street, I ran into an old friend who I hadn't seen in at least five years. We made futile plans to reconnect later that evening, and I headed over to a big, huge, ginormous party at the DeYoung Museum in Golden Gate Park, hosted by the San Francisco Bay Guardian.

A happy little indie/pop/world-beat/folksy/punk band with a smokin' hot chick singer in Andes-boheme garb played to an ecstatic--but in a wholly sophisticated, fuck-you-if-you-make-me-spill-my-drink kind of way--audience. It was an immense crowd. I'd guess they numbered around 638-or-so billion.

And the people were freakishly beautiful (and by that I mean they were freaks) and intimidating as all hell. You could tell they were all doing something too cool and intellectual and good for humanity than I could ever imagine. I was in love. I was repulsed. I had the distinct feeling that yep, this is exactly what I asked for--these are my people and I should let them know at once that I have finally arrived!

And I felt more lonely than ever.