I'm Talkin' 'Bout My Best Friend - 40 Days of Thankfulness

My wedding day with my only Bride's Maid

Yesterday I shared with you how thankful I am for my friends Heidi and Paul, I would say my Best Friend Couple. Today is all about Guy – the best friend anyone could ever have (and sometimes the biggest pain).

Guy and I have been friends for more than 20 years and have gone through thick and thin – or as he likes to call it Playing the “Can You Top It?” Game (this title actually came from a high school friend I had who called me up out of the blue one day about 10 years after high school and rattled off her accomplishments ending with “can you top it?” – weird.)

Can You Top It? thankfully is not a game based on who could have the worst or better day and trying to one-up someone, it’s just a way Guy and I share what is going on with us since we don’t share stories on social media and try to make our conversations count.

You can expect that through more than 20 years, we’ve had a lot to talk about. Like siblings some of the things we say to each other aren’t always the most pleasant and like an old married couple we can bicker and nag one another for hours. But … when one of us needs anything, the other is there. We go out of our ways to help one another and never complain about it. Our love is so deep that we had agreed to grow old together if we didn’t find our soul mates, and voila – Guy met Randy (again) two days before I met Paul and we all lived happily ever after.

Guy and I have our own vocabulary, our own euphemisms, our own experiences and of course, our own squabbles. Guy would write a song about this to the tune of the Twelve Days of Christmas but here’s my list:

On the twelfth day of Christmas, Guy gave to me … not even putting me in his Twelve Days of Christmas song so many years ago to give his Pittsburgh friends and family updates of what was going on

On the eleventh day of Christmas, Guy gave to me … being my companion on a trip to Alaska and doing a half marathon for charity

On the tenth day of Christmas, Guy gave to me … the chance to scare him and give him nightmares just by mentioning the movie “The Exorcist”

On the ninth day of Christmas, Guy gave to me … Lots of laughs over movie quotes only him and I get – “There’s something nasty in the woodshed”, “Lightning, lightning she said”, “I can’t do it”, and “Day Four”

On the eighth day of Christmas, Guy gave to me … hours of watching season 4 of Celebrity Big Brother on the way to Alaska, while there, on the way back and for days afterward

On the seventh day of Christmas, Guy gave to me … his time to drive me to my new home in Ohio

On the sixth day of Christmas, Guy gave to me … New York Christmas windows and a trip up the Empire State Building

On the fifth day of Christmas, Guy gave to me … the comfort I needed when my kitty Boo passed and when I was devastated by losing Finn

On the fourth day of Christmas, Guy gave to me … letting me be there for him when people he loved so dearly (his father and Steve especially) passed on

On the third day of Christmas, Guy gave to me … The best Halloween Parties ever!!!

On the second day of Christmas, Guy gave to me … Being the only Bride’s Maid at my wedding

On the first day of Christmas, Guy gave to me … The chance to show him how much I loved him when he was in the hospital.

There are so many more things, but this just gives you a taste of why I am so thankful Guy is my friend. 

The Last Supper

Tonight Guy and I had our last dinner together at the Swingin Beach Pad. I had a huge meal planned, but the appetizer was so good we just gnoshed on that. So if you want something simple and impressive to dine on try this.

Seared tuna and seaweed appetizer (this could feed 2 as a meal and then some or for a group of 8 as a starter)

1pound tuna steak
Teriyaki sauce
Sesame seeds
Seaweed salad (already made)
Wasabi mustard
Rice crackers (I used ones that had seaweed in them too)

Coat the tuna in teriyaki and then in sesame seeds. Heat oil in a skillet until smoking and cook the tuna on each side for about 3 minutes or until the level of doneness you like. We like it rare.

Slice thin in about 1-1/2 inch slabs. Stack the appetizers as such:
Rice cracker
A tablespoon of seaweed (not too big a heap since you still want to look a little elegant)
A dab of wasabi mustard
Tuna slice
A drizzle of the teriyaki that was left in the pan to warm

YUMMY! We also had Prosecco with it to celebrate.

Dessert anyone? To make room for more food, we went to the Honu Festival benefitting Hospice in honor of a friend of Guy’s. The kids got a lot of attention and it was nice to see some of the old crowd and meet new people. And work up an appetite.

Martinis went around as we shared “Remember when” moments and discussed his new decorating options. We spent plenty of time savoring Nutella on orange slices and strawberries and commenting on Valentino: The Last Emperor (not enough pug action.) I didn’t want the night to end, but we can’t hold on to everything, no matter how much we love it. When Guy moves there will be no more sleepovers or night of abandon, just back to being like everyone else.

Remember Vinyl? If so then you’re old like me.

 

Friday night at ArtPool was a celebration in vinyl – like record vinyl – like before CDs and MP3s. ArtPool is a fantastic and inspiring gallery downtown and Marina (the owner) has thrown some fabulous parties. This is my first. Unsure of what to wear for the record party, I went with the basics and wore a vinyl corset that I haven’t sucked myself into in years, but it still looked great. I love the feeling of being back out in the world and partying with a sense of ease and awe.

 

 

I lost part of myself in my last relationship and needed to get back to who I was and on the right path. The cool and sexy haircut helped (as most women will tell you a makeover works wonders!) I needed to show off and Guy was the perfect accessory. Not to look just like a rundown bondage girl, I made a hat out of a 33-1/3 record (AJA from Steely Dan – I don’t like them so I didn’t care about the album.) If sewed the center to a beret and made it so the LP could spin which got a lot of people involved in entertaining themselves.

The party also was an artist draw as a cartoon artist did portraits on painted CDs (mine was fabulous) and a new designer showed off her musically inspired fashions. In fact, the artist (name escapes me) has been contracted to do a set of cards for Marvel Comics – big time.

It was an amazing night. We even got the party started with a celebration at Georgie’s for Darryl’s birthday and that really made it a great evening. Guy even made a new friend.

 

Only thing is I didn’t get one offer of a date (which still puzzles me since I looked so cool.)

A Table For Two

With the sadness of Guy moving comes the blessing of getting some of his treasures. So far the best thing that has made it to my home has been the kitchen table. A retro yellow piece with chairs to match, it now rest in my kitchen against the green wall creating a citrus explosion.

It is bigger than my previous table, but still fits nicely and looks great. I moved the other table onto the patio and after the yard sale in two weeks, hopefully I will have some room in the garage to put the bar and make it all work better.

(BTW – Huge yard sale at Crescent Lake on October 3 – be there!!!)

Other things on the list, include: a collection of kites left over from the never more Kite Parties, garden gnomes (that I will repaint) and a lawn jockey for the front and of course his wondrous collection of bowling balls, (though I will still need more, so keep looking for me) and a plethora of other odds and ends. The greatest will be the Marilyns (three Warhols) that I have the perfect space for in the living room.

I really love this table since it suits my contrasting sense of style. The retro feel is perfect for my kitchen. Even when I get my kitchen redone, it won’t be the standard Stepford room, but full of the joy and love that I create in there and this table will be perfect.

Yes I hate to see the Swingin’ Beach Pad dismantled, but some of it will still live on giving some of us a little piece of home.

Madonna and Patti Kelli

The last out-of-town guests to the Swingin’ Beach Pad are ….. Kathy and Scott. Taking a breather from their life in Michigan, the happily married couple took a tour of the hot spots of Florida and ended up at Guy’s.

Kathy and Carolyn (A Black Cat Reunion)

Kathy used to live here like 10 years ago and she decided to move back to Bay City (Madonna is from there). Now we only see each other once a year or even less, but I do have some great memories such as New Years 1999/2000 in NYC; many evenings drinking rum punch and telling tall tales in the backyard and of course playing with Duncan. She is one of my most favorite people in the world and it is so sad she is so far away, but distance does make the heart grow fonder.

This visit she was accompanied by her husband Scott. We only spent one evening together, but it was great camaraderie with her other friends as well. We ate, drank and were very merry.

Guy and Joan- Note his shirt, “Lead Me Not Into Temptation, I can get there all by myself.”

This day also marked the notice that Guy gave to us all that he is leaving the Pad, but not the area. It was hard to take, but this made her the final out-of-town guest, a prestigious title.

*The title of this entry is based on nicknames that Kathy and I have. We all call her Madonna since that is her staple Halloween costume and she adores the Material Girl. I am nicknamed Patti Kelli because Kathy thought my name was Kelli for about the first 2 years we knew each other and when we found out my real name she melded them and now I am Patti Kelli.

Starting the Weekend with a Splash

Sometimes there is nothing better than a quiet start to a busy weekend. By quiet I mean still entertaining, with a dab of drama and plenty of good friends.

Guy, Mary and Patrick

Whoever said “Part of the fun is getting there” didn’t have puppies in tow. Really it’s no big deal because I love them so much, but getting them ready to go to the Swingin’ Beach Pad, as well as getting my own crap together can be a bit stressful. I just work methodically through it and somehow it all gets done.

The Pad was hoppin’ with Guy, Patrick, Yiwen and Shawn enjoying intoxicants and getting everything ready for the Bar-B-Q. It’s also a celebration of Mary’s birthday so that added a touch of stress, but not for me. It really is a comforting place for me. The past 19 years, I have sought solace within this house and even caused a commotion once or twice. As Homer Simpson says, “Alcohol: The cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems.”

They're called Dunkin Donuts, they never said you couldn't dunk 'em in a Cosmo

The first time I came to put my feet up at the Pad, it hadn’t been named yet. I was friends with Elaine who was Guy’s roommate and she invited me over to watch TV and just sit around and lay out in the sun. Guy’s mom and dad were down and when his mother asked me if I wanted to join them for dinner I declined since it was Good Friday and I couldn’t eat meat. She instantly fell in love with me then and offered to make vegetarian things for me.

No slivovic? What kind of party is this?

When Elaine moved out and I moved in with her just around the corner, Guy and I became fast friends. He has been there for me ever since through heartache, heartbreak and joy, he has been my rock. We tackled his cancer together, shared tears together and have crafted so many private jokes that it probably sounds like twin-speak to others.

Many a holiday has been celebrated there from the decade of Halloween parties, to new Year Celebrations, to birthdays, and Thanksgivings on the beach (what could be finer.) And this birthday was no different, it had all the elements of a Swingin’ Beach Pad party – no matter how big or how small.

There was the old crowd: Guy, Patrick and I. There were new people, at least to me: Neil and Maureen. There was drama: Mary and Pavil buying a house, Shawn moving away and the other Shawn and his wife Laura getting divorced. There was food uncommon to a regular boring barbeque with Andouille Sausage and marinated chicken along with burgers and dogs. There was disappointment: no slivovitz. There were old stories: mostly from Mary and Maureen and Patrick who all went to high school together and included stories about people who weren’t there to defend themselves. And of course a tiara and pictures.

Guy threatens that he will be moving, but that has gone on for 10 years. If he ever does it will be a sad day since there are so many memories in my Pad away from home. For those of you who have visited the Pad, please share your favorite moments in the comments. I know you too have been touched.

Play Date

Easter has come and gone. I didn’t do much on Easter Day since I was recovering from the night before. I spent an evening with Guy, which turned into an evening with Guy, Shawn, Mary and Geordie. It was a blast. Shawn, a chef by trade, did the barbequing, Guy made the cocktails and poured wine, Geordie shared tales of his upbringing as a gay Southern man and Mary told us about being a model in Milan and who is now a chef as well.

I brought the broccoli salad (that people didn’t appreciate since it was healthy salad and not laden with bacon and mayo – both of which I have nothing against.) I also brought stuffed mushrooms which went over well.

We ate cheese from all over the world, drank Rioja and of course laughed until we cried. Then came the Ouzo (which I did not drink) and the clean up. Puppies played and we all have a great time, but with morning (and after a night sleeping on a poorly cushioned futon) I felt not as thrilled. We went to breakfast and then I went home to sleep in my own bed and let the puppies run free in the back yard.

Ronn watched the Masters, I watched LOST and we decided to postpone the rising of the dead for Monday with lamb and spring veggies.

Broccoli Salad – well at least I like it.
One bunch of broccoli cut into florets with the stems cut in small bites
Red onion, diced – ¼ cup or so
Red pepper, roasted and diced – ¼ cup or so
Walnuts – ¼ cup - chopped
Raisins – ¼ cup - chopped
Vidalia onion dressing – ¼ cup
1 lemon

I nuked the broccoli so as not to lose any of its nutritional value (about 5 minutes so it is still crisp and green)
While it’s cooking put the raisins in a coffee cup and soak in hot water for about 5 minutes so they get soft
While still warm add the onion, pepper, walnuts, raisins and dressing. I thinned out the dressing with lemon juice.
Salt and pepper.
Toss and let it sit on the counter for a few minutes so the hear breaks down all the flavors. Then refrigerate.

The Vidalia Onion dressing is from Kraft and even though I don’t usually use bottled dressing, it is becoming a bit more common since they are good for more things than drenching lettuce.

I Decided To Start My Own Traditions

“We decided to” is the theme for today, but I wanted to make it more personal and change it to “I decided to.” I decided to celebrate Easter my own way. Not much of a family person, I have created many of my own holiday traditions. As a child, Easter meant chasing my anticipation for eggs around the back yard, dew covering my feet and nightgown. My father did his best to make it a special day when I was growing up, but sometimes it was just him and I with a canned ham.

My teenage years were failed attempts at Lent restrictions and my step siblings and their families. In college, I actually did better with Lent giving up chocolate and drinking for those 40 days and nights all the while feeling superior in spirit and body on Easter Sunday – a sort of rebirth. (I did find out recently though that technically Lent ends on Maundy Thursday, the day of the Last Supper and not on Easter – thanks Renee who did great with giving up chocolate until that day.) Being as lapsed a Catholic as one can be, I no longer practice Lent, though it could be of value even on a secular level.

My favorite Easter was when Guy and I decided to go to Sunrise Service in Safety Harbor. We arose at o-dark-thirty (even before Jesus) and dressed in our Sunday best. After the service, we were wide awake and thought we would surprise Patrick, his roommate at the time with a wake-up call. No such luck. Patrick was awake, as was Diane, and they had already made a pitcher of bloody marys. We sipped the spiced concoction, ate chocolate Easter candy and watched Jerry Springer. Ever since that has been my favorite Easter tradition.

For this year I decided to lay low and do the food thing tomorrow since I am not fully risen myself.

Fridge of Fame and Shame

Guy’s refrigerator is like a shrine to more than 10 years of parties, friends, weddings and other happenings. The front and sides are caked with pictures, cut-outs, phrases and magnets that define his life and his attitude about life. Though many have had the honor of being provided a spot on this Swingin’ Beach Pad Fridge of Fame, certain spots of memory stand out.

Madonnaween 2002

Cathy (who we have also come to call Madonna) was in her crowning glory. There is nothing she doesn’t know about her idol. Growing up in the same town as the not-so-virginal one, Cathy is a kindred spirit taking on convention and casting it off like last week’s fur. The focus of this party was Madonna in any interpretation. Guy even made a movie about it (which recently went off to be screened at a prestigious film festival) and the memories linger like Madonna’s earlier porn films.

We had in residence not only the material girl in all her incarnations, but also Guy Richie, backup dancers, security and, of course, Jesus who drove a gremlin. My rendition of this theme was a stretch since Madonna really isn’t my thing. I went with my boyfriend of the moment, Mic who was Andy Warhol and I was a factory girl. We figured that if Andy would have lived Madonna would have been part of his entourage, or him part of hers.

In the background is Heidi as the Erotic Madonna with vinyl and a whip – oooooooooh.
Another Halloween bash, the first one, say 1997, there was no theme, but that didn’t matter since this crowd only needs one prompting for a reason to dress up. This photo is Diane, a sprite English bird dressed in her prom dress, well not hers, but you know, and two delectable and well-built angels at her side. These parties condoned bare bodies, which were usually men or women with strategically placed pasties on certain areas. This year though I got my nickname of Wednesday, since I was a fabulous Wednesday Adams.
That same year the Tracy family topped everyone with the Wizard of Oz. Possibly conceived by Dorothy (Chris Tracy) the family went all out using their stage skills in makeup and costume to really show everyone up. Even the dog, that is really a pitbull. Just kidding. Unfortunately, a few years after this was taken, their brother died and Chris followed this past year. They will be greatly missed.
The ever hip music fan, Guy went all the way to New York to see his favorite band, after Blondie and Madonna, the Scissor Sisters. He couldn’t resist getting his picture taken with the band and wearing is SS cap for the next 4 years.

Another great band that performed at Guy’s house one Thanksgiving was Joan’s old ragtime group. They had come together for their last performance, sort of like the Beatles on top of Apple Studios, in Guy’s back yard. The party carried on into the wee hours and as you can see hip is cool at any age.
Sometimes people come to the Swingin’ Beach Pad all dressed up for not apparent reason except they can. This group of drag queens and pimp are an example. New Year’s is a time to celebrate and to start resolutions, including looking fabulous at all times. Don’t they look great???!!! I am envious though that men can look so much better than me.
This montage features Christmas done right with Guy, Patrick, Karalinda and Aimee. The one below is another Halloween themed Alice’s Mad Tea Party (where everyone were served cocktails in tea cups.) And of course, Liberace.

Getting ready to welcome in a new decade, this is from 1999 when the Whinzy Twins, Todd and Karalinda, covered their house in mylar and blue bottles. We spent days helping them set up and enjoyed every moment, though I missed the actual New Year’s Eve celebration since I was in New York.

Frie - Day

Fridays hold a special place in my heart. As part of the working masses, I am lost until Friday and it is my beckon for time to myself. The work days seem longer, promise of happy hours or cook-free nights entice me. I long for the moment I am off the clock and wishing for the weekend to never end.

Fridays used to be the day I hopped a plane to NYC to see Patrick. The 6:10 flight from Tampa to LaGuardia was usually not on time and I didn’t get to his place until around 11. But hey it’s New York and 11pm is still part of the day. But he had worked all week too and the subway ride from Brooklyn into the city was not at all appealing to him. We stayed in drinking vodka and eating whatever he whipped up at that hour. No worries.

Now my Fridays are usually spent one of three ways: by myself to recoup for the week, out with friends usually Guy to happy hour at Georgies, or spending the evening with Ronn.

Last weekend, I went out with Michelle, which is a strange occurrence on its own. Very rarely does she get a chance to hang out on a Friday and even rarer is her desire to leave her home for the evening. But she did and we had a great time. We met up with Guy and Shawn and tagged along to a comedy show.

Not my cup of tea usually, this show was headlined by a hilarious woman Guy met when he was mentoring kids. It was also at this great historic hotel in Gulfport. We laughed and drank more nibbling on fruit and cheese. Mich had to get up early so she went home as me and my beaus continued on the merriment at Bellinis. If you are in this area, you have to try Bellinis and its sister restaurant, La Fogata.

Bellinis is sort of South Beach feel with fancy fruit drink and sample plates that will leave you wanting more. It also is like most great places around here, open to anyone and everyone. The table to our left propped up the cocktails of some young trendy and chic Spring Breakers who couldn’t afford the luxury of the real South Beach and made do with this eclectic community. To our right the table propped up the patrons, an artsy couple with a visible age difference. She was at least 20 years older than him, but you could see the admiration in his eyes. I just love that kind of “breaking the norm” thing.

What wasn’t so great was the filling of never fully recovering the next day. I usually don’t have the mega hangovers of headaches and puking, but I usually just get foggy and can’t seem to rest right. That’s when I make promises to not do that again, and I kept it since I had a relaxing evening at Ronn’s this week.

Knowing I didn’t really feel like cooking and taking into account the cast on my ankle, he fed us leftover pepperoni pizza and salad (Ok I made the salad since it is just one of those things I need to have at each meal.) He also humored me by watching 4 episodes of lost Season 3. He has never watched the show and I figured we would only watch one or two, but we watched the whole disk as I filled him in as best I could about what the background stories were for the different characters. I thought that was nice of him.

I’m not sure what future Fridays hold since there are a ton of fun things to do in this town. Maybe next week I’ll go play shuffleboard with Chris, or fly a kite on the beach at sunset, or maybe stay home and lose myself in Season 4. I know it sounds dull and boring, but sometimes one just needs that simple freedom of a Friday.

So Friday is the prompt and what better prompt than on Good Friday. Not being a practicing Catholic anymore, I eat meat on this day and still have the urge to look outside at 3pm to see if the sky has darkened. Good Fridays used to mean tuna fish sandwiches and benediction following the Stations of the Cross at school. God I hated all that, not the tuna, the Stations.

Every Friday can be Good

To go to work or not to go to work, that is the question.
Whether tis nobler to not shrug ones duties ,
The slings and arrows of an office job,
Or to take a paid day off to romp and play,
And by opposing, feel the stress of making it worthwhile.
No more, I brave the traffic and arrive still asleep,
The heart-ache of knowing only two days are mine,
The flesh and spirit wanting to see the sun,
Devoutly to be wished. I work, I yawn,
To write, perchance to be commended,
For in my sleep so broken at sunrise,
When I have shuffled from bed to desk,
Must give us a coffee break. There’s the respect,
That brings calamity of happy hour
For who could bear not celebrating our release,
From the oppressor and bask now in neon,
The pangs of Saturday’s fangs and knives,
The insolence of office, and the spurns of the morning after,
That patience leaves us making promises,
When I, myself only long for the next good Friday.

Attack of the 100-Foot Drag Queen - A FABULOUS Landmark

In 1997, Guy and I set out on a 17-day road trip. Our travels would eventually take us to Washington D.C., New York City, Albany and Pittsburgh. But our first short stop was at South of the Border, appropriately named since it sat just south of the North Carolina border.
It was a blast traveling with Guy, because no matter where we ended up, I always felt safe. When we left his house we agreed on two things: No matter how much I told him I hated him during the trip, I really loved him; and he agreed that he would always love me even when he abandoned me at the closest truck stop.
So our first argument began when I begged to stop at South of the Border. I had been enticed for miles (about 293 of them) and just wanted to get some crap. I had no idea about what the monument held or even why it was there, but all the media hype inspired me.
He fought me good until he saw the giant silver high-heeled shoe. Then all hell broke loose and he acted like he had seen the Promised Land. Many kitsche photo ops and trashy high-priced shops gave us our fill of souvenirs as we devoured this landmark to all things tacky. I just loved it. We only spent an hour, but I got my picture taken on a super long hot dog dog and Guy, of course, in front of the slipper. I don’t know where the photos are, but it was wild.
Nothing else on our trip seemed to compare, though there were several memorable moments, such as watching the 4th of July fireworks on a bridge in downtown Pittsburgh; going to my first Pride parade in NYC and babysitting drunk Julie afterward, when I wasn’t much better off; and Shawn and Laura’s groovy warehouse apartment overlooking the river in Albany. But what could stand up to a giant silver-speckled high-heel drag pump?

Finding Lost Things - 37

Saturday I had quite a shock when I came home and found little Lassie missing. I was in such a great mood after having done my grocery shopping and buying a new outfit for a conference I am going to this week, and lost all my joy when his cute little face wasn’t there to greet me.
I had left both him and Misha on the screened-in porch since I needed to fumigate the house for fleas. This is something I had done several times before sans Lassie and never a problem. But on my return he was no where to be found.
I was heart-broken, and after the other heartbreak, it was like I was cursed, though I did my best to keep only positive thoughts in my head.
Into the night I kept watch sitting in the backyard and keeping sane by cleaning the house. Every few minutes I went out looking for him.
At around 10pm (he had been gone a while since I got home around 1:30pm), Guy came over. He was nearby volunteering at Drag Queen Bingo night at the gay church a mile from my house.
Guy inspected the patio, walked the backyard and the alley and kept reassuring me that Lassie would eventually come home. I was bawling.
Then as we started to walk inside, we spied a shimmer of white strolling beside the patio. Cloaked in darkness, Lassie emerged and skiddish as he is swiftly turned tail to hide again. I tried a few times to get him to come to me, hoping that he felt our bond as I did, but to no avail. I opened the patio door and the door leading into the house and put some food out. Bypassing the food, Lassie immediately headed toward his buddy, Misha. Stroking his body against Misha’s and purring, Lassie came inside and let me close him in again.
I was so glad he was home.
I have always had a feeling that Lassie may be gay do to his innate feminine sensibilities. Now I know since it took a gay man to make him come home. Either way, I have a “Don’t ask, don’t tell” household so I will never know where he went or what he did. I am just so happy he is home!!