The last look at this past year (and I’m limping through this third installment in all the agony to be expected from one who abhors looking back) features the arrival of fall and winter. Those darker months close out this year in a cozy and sometimes cruel manner. Hold onto your hats, as things are about to get deeply personal. Just remember, it’s going to be a great starting point for next year. The trajectory has just been reset. Get rear to rocket.
September 2014 ~
It always begins so quaintly, with my birthday snuggled into the last days of August. Deviating from tradition, I went to New York City for some shopping and a show (or two). Thanks to the bathroom, the briefs, the brunch, the bubble bath, and the beauty, it was an unforgettable birthday.
September signals a return to school for some unfortunate souls, and I always hated it for that reason.
The year that was all about a shirtless Nick Jonas commenced with this post, when it wasn’t about Chris Evans and his boxing, bouncing butt.
Figs and honey, food and fucking.
The Master of Madonna 101 is about to call class to order again, and I cannot wait.
Transitional fragrances can be tricky, even if the devil wears it.
Coffee and music and everything dreamy. (And then I saw a moose!)
A one poem, two poem, three poem day. Anything to slow the moment, or slow the river.
Another Starbucks episode. I’m entertaining the idea of a Starbucks-fiasco-only blog. It would be filled with shit like this.
I tried my hand at a Bachelor Party for my friend Chris. Afraid it wasn’t your typical Bachelor Party – my fault for inviting girls I guess. Oh well, there was already a baby in the picture.
October 2014 ~
Shit, how am I supposed to get my potty mouth under fucking control with this motherfucker inspiring me like this? SHIT.
Nick Jonas flaunted his crotch and his slightly-hairy ass for all the world to see, and no one complained one bit. Especially when he did it again. Even better was when he talked sex scenes and crotch grabbing.
This mermaid found herself back on Shore.
October is when fall really ripens into itself, and it’s both beautiful and wonderful. It’s also when the one-man-canning-machine goes into overdrive.
One last chance to swim. Without a swimsuit.
We went back to Washington for the wedding of Chris and Darcey, and it was just as lovely as DC usually is. We did a few historical things because I thought Andy would enjoy those – though we all know his favorite part was seeing Stephen Colbert filming a segment on a bicycle. As long as I get a dose of the botanical gardens, I’m good.
Of course our real reason for being there was the wedding of my good friend. Chris and I go way back, and he’s like a brother to me (one who actually enjoys my company, which is rather nice). He found the perfect match in Darcey, who knows best how to handle his moods and whims and sensitive nature. When they walked out with their son Simon I think we all got a little teary-eyed. Even better was when everyone (including the bride in her wedding dress) jumped in the pool at the end of the night.
Why I love my job.
Fall was a time for Passion via Stephen Sondheim and Sex via Madonna.
Thomas Wolski: an artist and a gentleman.
After the fall, but before the fall, and hanging onto my cock for dear life. Sounds exciting, but it made for a dismal Ogunquit stay. Well, almost dismal.
Sometimes this place is better than a Whitman’s Sampler, and without all the messy fruity crap that no one wants. Well, maybe there’s some fruit some of the time.
November 2014 ~
This is the month when everything changes. There’s nothing to do but hunker down and hold on. Things are going to get very emotional.
The secret to keeping your guacamole green.
Certain artists, like the amazing Joe Phillips, hold a special place in my heart, especially when they’ve been a part of my life since the 90’s.
Nick Jonas lost the purity ring and had sex.
Real heroes don’t call you a fag.
Ben Cohen was finally featured in the Profile of a Straight Ally for all his genuine dedication and hard work.
Gone with the Wind fabulous, from a 30-year-old virgin to a woman who ruled the world, and something decadent for the mouth and for the body.
My first foray into basketball and, you guessed it, last.
The kickoff to the holiday season was madness, rife with emotional land mines and resurrected memories. So I took the road less-traveled-by and I barely made it out alive.
December 2014 ~
Which brings us right to this very month, thankfully on its last legs and ready to depart.
She’ll be back, and better than ever. That’s what she does.
My childhood viewing habits should explain a lot.
Ben Cohen makes everything better.
A December recap within a December recap within a December recap within a yearly recap.
The Christmas season has begun.
My name is not David, but the other impostors didn’t even bother changing my name.
Doing lines, 70’s glam rock style, for this year’s snowy Holiday Card.
A misty water-colored memory brought on by Babs.
I had the best of intentions this holiday season, but my family sometimes has a way of making me feel unwanted. I’m probably partly to blame for that, or for allowing it to happen, so I’m going to try to work it out here. The best part of this blog, and its most valuable aspect, is the way it can be a catalyst for catharsis.
My favorite Christmas moment of the year, with the possible exception of this moment in Florida, this stroll along the Gulf Coast, or this mash-up of palm trees and Christmas trees. I may have to spend next Christmas in Florida.
A pair of fragrances took me away better than Calgon: this Jo Malone creation, and this beauty by Diana Vreeland. Sometimes a girl has to treat herself.
