Friday Night Report No activity

Friday Night Report
No activity to report. Quiet evening at home with the missus. A fire burning, a couple of good books and a few spastic kittens demonstrating their newly honed paper sack wrangling skills. [insert lesbian cliche here]

Saturday Night Report
Mod Squad a.k.a. Mod Com Christmas Cocktail Party. Chris called around 3:00pm to confirm the location and time (his pad - 7:00), then quickly slipped in at the end "Oh, and bring a side dish!" What the hell? Is this a fucking lesbian potluck or something? Not that potlucks are inherently a bad thing, but if you have to ask...

Since I'm not much of a whiz in the kitchen, I was stumped. Is vodka a side dish? Well, maybe in Russia. So, I'm thinking like a casserole or something? This means going to the store and buying ingredients, and actually cooking something unless I wanted to show up with some Mac and Cheese with crushed potato chips on top. And these are definitely not Mac and Cheese people. At least not in public.

As I hem and haw, and discuss the side dish merits of a jar of olives with the missus, the hour of the party is fast approaching and I still have no fucking idea what do bring. We ended up stopping at Jensens Finest Foods on the way there and picking up some tomato and basil penne pasta. As it turns out - Most people, like us, interpreted his "potluck" as "bring whatever you want to eat - that is, if you want to eat" and yeah, vodka is a side dish, at least in Palm Springs.

Sunday Afternoon Report
Snow ball fight in the desert? You bet! Our buds Shan and Wendy drove up to Idyllwild, filled their pick up trucks with fresh snow and dumped it in the yard. They do this every year around Christmas when there's a fresh snowfall. All the neighborhood kids get a big kick out of it, while us grown ups use it as the perfect excuse to sit around and drink in the afternoon.

Normally, this would be your typical lesbian potluck situation, but defying century old stereotypes, all food and drink were supplied by the hosts. We met a very cool older (mid 60's-ish) woman named Mary - total old school butch. Gruff, witty and sarcastic, smoked like a chimney, and telling some great stories. Everything was going great, all were having a wonderful time until... Mary stands up to refill her cocoa and promptly trips and breaks her leg. No shit. Protesting the help of a few of us, she stands up, rebuffs all attempts at diagnosis or first aid gets in her car and promptly drives herself to the hospital. Damn woman, you've got some grit! Much to my surprise, turns out she's a totally straight grandmother of 4. That'll teach me. Better get the 'ol gay dar in for an alignment.