Damn, it's cold

Hate is a pretty strong word. Acceptance should be universal. That disclaimer out of the way...let me just say that I fucking hate cold weather. Welcome to winter folks. It's not just about the shivers, the gas bill, starting your car earlier, the (pause for drama) snow. It's just how the cold kinda...follows you inside. Yech.

So, downtown Mpls has changed a bit. I met my big bro at Copelands for lunch last Friday, and I hardly recognized City Center. As a kid, my dad would bring me to the Sheriff's Office and then unleash me on the downtown scene. I'd wander the skyways, do some shopping. It got to be that I could get around fairly well. Well NOW it's all under construction and I can barely recognize a damn thing. I'll be lucky if I can find the Fields 8th floor exhibit next Friday when I take J there on our day off. Weird note: Fringe director Leah "Coop" Cooper has a picture just...lingering there on one of the walls. (Apparently to cover up the renovation, the city has displayed "Faces of the City" all around the storefronts.) We can talk about changes when I drone about my recent visit to my folks. Bee-Pee is not the town I grew up in anymore.
(ps: Borders had lightsabers. Not the "flashlight with a tube" jobbys like we had growing up. These had sound effects and EVERYTHING! Ro and I played with them. It was glorious.)

Noteworthy: The Small Theatre X-Mas party was last night. A veritable "Who's Who" in the small teatro' scene, with only one ex-geef siting. She said "Hi" and didn't even introduce me to her man. I thought I'd be original and wear a tux to the gala, considering I shill the fancy mo-fo's (Thanks to Kaiser, Papster, and Edwin for one-UPPING me!!!) I dashed out relatively early, per normal, due to an early morning baptism- having imbibed only ONE glass of wine thankyouverymuch. Why is this a big deal, you may ask?

One: I become a wanker. Well, more of a wanker than I normally am.
Two: To quote William H. Macy in "Magnolia"- "I've got so much love to give". Meaning I'll hug, kiss, compliment, squeeze, pinch, and love up anyone in my path. A throwback to my younger days, I'm not doing this out of stupidity, malice, or even trying to be flirty. Booze and groups make me act like a douchebag. And I like myself better when I don't look back at the evening with disgust, or guilt for having acted this way.

Three: ADD+booze means I'll forget shit. Throw on top of that multiple conversations, and I'm bound to squash my wonderfully detailed memory. (Thanks Dad for the attention to detail bit. the Godfather knows what I'm talking about. He remembers hella shit too.) In other words, I hate talking to people about things, then seeing them at a later date and repeating myself, or have them tell me something again that they already have told me. It reeks to me of being disrepectful and uninterested. Which I do try not to be. A lofty goal, but hopefully acheivable.

Sense has been made? Yes? I suppose this will wind up coming across as a justification of sorts, mostly because one of my dumb little phobia's is not having said "G'bye" to everyone. Which I really hope I did.

I promise to prattle on more about the house and holidays. The party was fun, canna wait to see the pics, and it makes me yearn for my big-kid birthday this Saturday. Those who read this and are in town are more than welcome to join me. I love people. : )

ps: The one and only glass of wine was raised for two ladies who couldn't attend. My delightful and terribly busy wife to be, and Portland. It was a gay old time.