Like royalty...

So last weekend... ahhh.

The Thespian came down, on a much-needed reprieve from his overworked and chilly life in Oakland. We'd really only been on about three dates in the Bay Area so I was initially nervous about spending the weekend with him. And there was no way in hell I was gonna subject him to the 'rents, despite their insistent inquisitions about my impending whereabouts. But I was happy--as I'm sure they were, too--to get out of the house and live like royalty for the last couple of warm, sun-soaked days of the season in Palm Springs.

Any anxieties I might've felt were instantly quelled as soon as he got into my car at the airport. He's tall and lanky, the Thespian, with spiky salt-and-pepper hair and--oh, you know I love this--black rimmed glasses. He also has impressive muttonchops and his eyes are bright, with brows that're kind of cocked in this frequently wild, surprised look that works well for him. But he's real laidback, completely easy to be with.

Yeah, he's sexy and cool. I'm totally hot for him.

It was my job to find the right place for our desert rendezvous, since I'm temporarily residing here. So I picked The Viceroy, located conveniently downtown in the vicinity of the restaurants in which we'd be dining (also my job to locate) and the casino in which he'd be playing blackjack, when the unfortunate happenstance of me going back to work would prevail on Monday.

When we checked in, he was already pleased. The Viceroy definitely has style--a glamorous, modern, quirky, sparse Euro-hip kind of style that apparently attracts all the big players of L.A. And their hot daughters. I could tell the front desk and lingering guests at the bar lounge were trying to ascertain just who Thespian and I must be...