Is it supposed to mean something?

I had a vivid dream today:

I am at work. I open my desk drawer to see a ziplock bag containing snacks. (I use ziplock bags for everything. Can't imagine life without ziplock bags, duct tape, headlamps or Nalgenes.)

I don't know how I know this, but in my dream, I know that the ziplock has been in my desk drawer for a few days. Trapped inside the bag is a big fat black bumblebee. Not your typical yellow and black bumblebee, but a big, fat, deep black, velvety bee without a trace of color to be found. It's still alive, buzzing about. I experience a moment of distress, panic and concern as I hurry to let it free, upset with myself for having accidentally closed it in a bag, glad that it's managed to stay alive. I hope that I can free it without hurting it and before it suffocates.

The black bee flies out of the ziplock without harm, lands on the floor of my office cubicle. It becomes a large bird that stands on the floor with its back to me. In my mind's eye, I know that the bird is an eagle, much like the picture of the female golden eagle you see in this post. I have no idea how I know what kind of bird it is since the only eagle I can definitively identify is bald. Yet while the bird before me lacks the bald eagle's distinctive markings, I know that the hulking, hunch backed, slope shouldered animal with the molting mix of light brown and white feathers is an eagle. Go figure.

Not at all surprised to have an eagle sitting on the floor in front of me -- at my office nonetheless -- my first thought is that the bird might be weak from being trapped in a ziplock bag for days. I need to feed it. I hurriedly break up some crackers that I have on hand. (Strange, since I don't really like crackers, and even if I did, I wouldn't keep them at my desk.) I throw them on the ground next to the bird. It eats. (I'm no rocket scientest, but I'm fairly certain that meat-eating birds are carb adverse. Then again, nothing in my dream has surprised me yet, so why would a cracker eating eagle be any different?)

I wake.

Dude, how weird is that dream? Even more strange is how clear and real it felt. Dude.

What I did this weekend

I watched the Colts make it to the Superbowl. Click on this link to see more of KatieG's pictures.

Number 1 in gay travel

On my way home today, I passed a travel agency which advertised that it was number 1 in gay travel. Is there a travel agency that might be first in heterosexual travel? Perhaps I've been using the wrong travel services...

Happy 2007!

Here's to the new year!
A candid moment B caught of me being my silly self. To my chagrin, I can't even hide behind the age old excuse that I was drunk. I was stone cold sober in this picture.

As for the man that appears to be growing out of the top of my head... Hey, what can I say? Thanks to my being Time's Person of the Year and special 2007 glasses, I now have two heads.

After three gruelling months of 12-14 hour workdays, new year's eve was supposed to be an early night for me, but I think I need to resign myself to the fact that early nights are few and far in between for me. I'm a natural night owl.

The night started with dinner at Puttanesca, poor distant cousin to Il Bastardo, where I was the seventh wheel on a triple date. The other people at my table were B and her bf Joe, CKY and her bf M, and Joe's friend J and his gf P.


The food was decent and fairly priced but the service was poor. The wait staff left us holding our menus in our laps throughout the first course so we hugged the large leather portfolios against our chests as we tried to eat around them. A long metal rod fell from a wall and hit a patron at the next table in the back of the head, and instead of being apologetic, a member of the staff told the customer that it "wasn't a big deal." Poor guy. Can anyone say lawsuit?

Despite the sloppy service, the company was great. I hadn't seen CKY and bf M since Thanksgiving (when we saw Kiefer), and it was B and Joe's one year anniversary. They had met when B came out with my friends and me last new year's eve.

After a quick stop at the Caliente Cab Company for a round of drinks to honor a long-standing NYC tradition for Joe and J, we headed to the Red Lion. Yes, I've said it: THE RED LION. The place is arguably the best new year's eve venue in the city if you're looking to spend it in a bar. I've spent my last two new year's there, and it's been a blast. It's crowded, but not life endangeringly crowded. There's a cover band that plays fun songs that everyone knows. The crowd is charmingly unpretentious and unassuming, and everyone is more concerned with having fun than worrying about how stupid others might think they look. While it's touristy, the tourists can be part of its appeal. But, the best part about it is that cover is only $20 a head and there's no need to reserve in advance -- just show up at the door. Booyeah.





Happy Anniversary to B and Joe!







I hate making a big deal about new year's eve because it shouldn't be a big deal. It's just another day. Also, making a big deal out of anything leads to inevitable disappointment. I have more fun when I go with the flow and enjoy the moment instead of trying to force things to happen. And for me, fun is all about being around the people I like and doing what makes me happy whether it be on new year's eve or any other day.

My first "big" new year's eve was during my freshman year of college. (Incidentally, I was not a freshman in 2004.) I returned to HK over winter break excited to reconvene with high school friends returning home from various colleges around the world -- Hong Kong, the US, the UK, Australia and India. We spent new year's eve in Lan Kwai Fong, the Hong Kong equivalent of Times Square, and it wasn't...fun. There was a lot of standing around, and it was so crowded I barely got to speak to much less see my friends. Anyway, I was so focused on avoiding the random beer bottles that occasionally flew into the crowd, I'm not sure I would have been good conversation. At one point, I distinctly remember being stuck in a scrum of drunk Aussies and Kiwis with nary a friend to be seen.

For the remaining three years where I had the luxury of returning to HK for winter break, I chose to see my high school friends on other days besides new year's eve and spent the auspicious evening at home with my parents. I persevered despite my parents' blatant attempts to get rid of me with deep probing questions such as "Why don't you go with your friends?" Or, "Where you friends?" And, the always classic, "Why are you here instead of out with your friends?" To which I knew the answer: because I'd rather spend any day of the year having a good time with people I like and care about than make a big deal about one day of the year by standing around with a lot of strangers.