Last night, Tommy and I were invited to attend a "soup party," showcasing the art of Fern Taylor.  If I was going to buy art from anyone, it would be her, as I believe in supporting other local artists.  Alas, I don't have the money for paintings, but if any of you do are looking for some unusual pieces to grace your walls, please check out her stuff.  I hope she liked the hostess gift I brought her. 

The party was fun.  There were a lot of people there, and I knew quite a few of them.  Besides Tommy and me, Billy was there, Phoebe and her girlfriend Gypsy, That Guy, and several others I have met in passing over the past few months.  I saw a guy I had dated a few years ago who just stopped calling me (we didn't speak, though) and I also Anti-Abortion Republican Boy (AARB, I guess), whom I made out with at Freddie's several months ago.  We were going to go on a date, but after several evenings on the phone with him, being lectured about the waste I was making of my life (culminating with him practically yelling at me for being like "all those other fags who contribute to the cycle of poverty" when I told him I'd have no qualms getting out of the corporate world and just waiting tables), it never went anywhere.  He didn't recognize me when we met.  Tommy says that it's the hair.  It was amusing, though, because when AARB introduced himself to me, I said, "oh, we've met."  His face went blank as he struggled to place me.  I said, "Eh, it was a while ago, at Freddie's.  I was wearing a hat."  Tommy jumped in by telling him that it must have been at least six months or so since he had met me, but AARB still seemed to have no idea who I was.  No worries, there.

That Guy and I continue to do our dance of futility ("Did I not see you sitting on his lap at one point?" Tommy asked me.  Guilty.).  All the signs point to massive incompatibility between the two of us, yet we still play our "boyfriend for a night" game when we see each other.  We have plans to spend St. Patrick's Day together and I'm sure we'll have a good time, provided we don't discuss the fact that we'll never be able to make it work in or out of the bedroom.

After the soup party, we went to AMP, to celebrate Celene's twenty-eighth birthday.  It was great to see her, as I haven't in a while.  She looked fabulous, which was no surprise.  This is the girl who used her magic to turn me into a grotesquely beautiful East German transsexual songstress. 

It was good to see Rob there (as I haven't seen him in ages) and This Guy (also known as Ryan and not be confused with That Guy).  Both of these gentlemen write blogs that are part of my daily blog-reading routine.  While I always enjoy what I read from them (theirs are two of the best blogs I've encountered) it was nice to get some face to face time with them. Ryan has posted some pictures of last night, including one of me looking incredibly wasted and shiny.

I also got to meet (and be photographed with) Angry Black Bitch!  The blog she pens has quickly jumped to my list of daily must-reads.  It was nice to put a face to the web-voice.  She and her sister (who was also there) are two really fun ladies, and I hope I get the chance to see them socially again.  At any rate, please visit her blog.  Her distaste for Katie Couric alone is worth the price of admission.

All in all, it's been a nice weekend.  For those of you with statistical minds (or those of you who come here to hear about whom I'm screwing, here are some numbers I've been crunching about last evening:

Number of men at the party that I kissed (not that I kissed them at the party, but at some point in my life):  5

Number of men at AMP that I kissed (again, sum total):  4

Number of men I've kissed who are at the party and at AMP:  2

Number of these men I imagine I'll kiss again:  1 (maybe 2?)

Number of men at that party that I've seen naked:  2

Number of bowls of soup I had the soup party:  0

Number of vodka drinks I drank at the soup party:  3 (or was it four)

Number of times That Guy and I were asked how long we've been a couple (in jest): 1 (by Tommy)

Number of times we were asked that question seriously: 1 (by a sex therapist who commended us for "taking it slow")

Glasses of champagne I had at AMP:  2

Number of Friends episodes Tommy and I watched last night at our post-party slumber party:  3?

New favorite song:  "Portions for Foxes" by Rilo Kiley