Bevan, Sid and I got in the car around nine o'clock yesterday morning and drove to Golden Gate Park for Gay Running Club where I coped with a five-mile run to Ocean Beach and back at a brutal 7:26 pace while Bevan, who's been recovering from a cold, and Sid, who's only a kid, walked and talked their way around Stow Lake. The weather in the park was totes perfz and I would have loved to have made it back to the ocean to take pictures after the run, but all of us had brunch plans to get to so the only photo I managed was the sweaty car selfie above.
Following a stretch, a shower and a FaceTime sesh with my fam, I met Sam and Tommy at Ike's Place on 16th Street to pick up sandwiches on our way to sun at Dolores Park. Although I usually park myself to the left of the playground just below Lesbian Lawn when I do Dolores with Kari, we three queers decided to spread our blankets out at Gay Beach so we could stuff our faces and look at boys. After an hour or so the guy who walks the park slinging coconuts spiked with rum made his way to us and so Tommy and I split one for $11. Over the course of the afternoon we sipped up a buzz and chatted whilst turning down offers of marijuana brownies, marijuana cookies, marijuana lollipops and marijuana truffles as well as Dora the Explorer balloons and $3 cans of Tacate amongst a chorus of champagne bottles being popped because Dolores Park is, in truth, the happiest place on Earth. At a little before three Tommy had to meet another friend in another park so we folded up our blankets, said our goodbyes and I headed home to my bed where I laid and read until Bevan got home.
There was more stretching and another shower before B and I walked to the Castro for our 8:30 dinner reservation at Catch. Because B is somewhat of a celebrity in the Castro having been the Sup there for eight years, there wasn't much time during our dinner in which a patron or a staff member wasn't standing at our table chatting him up. This included Catch's owner who stopped by to talk about B's recent string of radio and TV interviews as well as our plans for the Super Bowl before sending over a couple of appetizers, which was dope.
We left Catch feeling fat and happy and a little bit drunk on account of the four tangerine ginger margaritas we collectively imbibed over dinner and walked to 440 Castro for a nightcap amongst the bears and the daddies, which the bartender wouldn't let us pay for (again, B's impact). Then we headed to Super Duper for chocolate-dipped ice cream bowls, French fries (pictured above) and pickles before walking home, even fatter and happier, and passing out.
I awoke from a bad dream just after six this morning so I went into the living room to call my mom and dad (because nightmare, duh) and then I felt better. Since I was up and I figured they would be too, I FaceTimed all of my siblings but mostly just ended up hanging out with their kids (Bry being the obvious exception), which was definitely not the worst way to spend a Sunday morning.
After my FaceTime-A-Thon I went back to sleep for an hour and woke up to do two loads of laundry and read part of What I Saw and How I Lied for class. In the afternoon B and I waited for the Super Bowl to start before heading downtown to go clothes shopping in relative peace. I purchased four pairs of un-holy jeans on super sale at American Eagle while B picked up a pair of non-frayed slacks for 30% off at Banana Republic. Then we came home, ate salmon over rice and watched the final episode of Manhattan Love Story, an adorable show which, I am very sad to report, has not been renewed for a second season.