Life, Liberty & Pursuit Of Your Boyfriend

Wednesday was opening night at Bar Symon in Avon. We walked in a little after “normal” dinner hour, to a packed and bustling beautiful space, complete with local news crews (which we apparently made a brief crowd shot appearance for a split second… still locating the video). There was an hour-and-a-half wait.

Admiring the bar (and varied beer list!!), we remarked how this was almost like Symon’s answer to The Greenhouse Tavern (one of our favorite places) — with a similar trendy-staff-funky-restaurant-yet-relaxed-lounge kind of vibe.

Back to the beer list… it is just fantastic! There were many beers of which I had never heard — both draft and bottled — and I started on the “fruity” list with a Rodenbach Flanders Red Ale. Delicious, raspberry-ish taste (and reasonable price point) made it a definite “I-want-to-try-everything-on-the-list” draft night. Perhaps I’ll spread those tastings across multiple visits.

After being seated, I ordered another “funky/odd” draft from the list — a Rogue Morimoto Soba Ale (vegetable beer?!). I have never heard the term “vegetable beer.” It was equally as delicious as my first selection, at an equally as happy-hour draft pricing. I have no knowledge to actual “happy hour” prices, but with nothing on the menu more than $18, this is definitely a wallet-friendly night out.

With our second round of beers (and full orders placed), our appetizer of wings arrived. While small, they were easily pulled from the bone. I believe the vegetables in the wing basket were sweetened peppers (or perhaps a pepper slaw?) and balanced out what I thought was an otherwise overly seasoned (salty?) wing.

Unfortunately I had the same “my-taste-buds-say-salty” sensation on the fried Brussels sprouts. Although I have a new idea in preparation, as I typically pan sear the sprouts whole when I prepare them at home.

What was generally uneventful at the forefront of my meal, was immediately improved upon my first bite in to the Bar Symon burger (basket-ed with again, weirdly salted fries and sweet, sweet ketchup). Served on a giant English muffin, topped with bacon, fried egg and cheddar — and cooked PERFECTLY medium rare without nary a bloody or greasy run in sight — my mouth was in complete heaven for quite possibly the burger that I would order if I ever find myself on Death Row (potentially for killing someone over eating my burger).

AB ordered the lamb roast (special for Wednesdays, until they run out; cannot wait for Goat Taco Tuesdays!), which was also cooked to perfection and topped with a seriously to-die-for mint-cilantro-yogurt sauce and paired with sliced potatoes.

After eating quietly my entire burger-of-mass-delight, I truly imagined there to be no room for dessert. Yet, I always need to know what is on the list. Upon hearing from the other side of the table an inquiry to the infamous Guinness ice cream, I decided on the telepathic suggestion of the waitress — as “ice cream sandwich” was really the only thing I heard. This resulted in yet another fabulous decision, as two pieces of triple-stacked banana bread sandwiches, layered with a light spread of peanut butter were presented for our full enjoyment. Emphasis on full. The extra side of peanut butter to drizzle over was just bonus.

Being stuck on the west side in soccer-mom-suburbia has pained me time-and-time again with its excess in (disgusting) chain establishments, so we will most definitely make return visits to Bar Symon. There are several items on the menu over which I was salivating (big board of sausages! tomato soup! mac & cheese!!!), and our first meal was a great start.

I’ve been lucky to not have the pleasure of running into any exes lately. Save for the ones with whom I am actual friends… and that have maintained a low profile in the douchbag categorization. This past Wednesday, while out with AB, I came one degree shy (of running into, not becoming a douchebag myself) by seeing LD’s (”Last Douche”) friend.

I was casually strolling through a west side restaurant’s parking lot, and I hear a guy’s voice boom out from a semi-large group remarking comment to my “cool sunglasses.” Half a breath away from saying, “Thanks!” I realize who it is. And flashed back my famous disgusting sneer. He could not see the eye roll. Ew.

This guy is a total dick face too. See, when LD and I broke up, to my complete disbelief, TDF (”Total Dick Face”) texted me to “make sure I was ok” after the break-up. (And persisted in asking more questions of my whereabouts, including if I was “home alone”). I believe TDF found my number in his fiance’s phone. Yes. His FIANCE. (We were friends-by-men-we-were-dating until one night she believed TDF & I had something “going on.” We didn’t, crazy drunk). I never gave him my number.

Anyways, why not end the week with a middle finger to slimy assholes (that thankfully, with whom we’re not going to spend waste the rest of our lives), eh? I got another one for you next week.

Have a great holiday weekend. Traveling again…

No, it wasn’t because of The Proposal, although it was a seriously cute movie. And by cute, I mean “Holy hell, Ryan Reynolds is so freaking hot naked!” of course.

We had dinner before the movie at El Rodeo in North Olmsted. While I’m a bigger fan of Nuevo Acapulco down the street, I had not been to Rodeo in a couple years. And for once at a Mexican restaurant, I did not order three cheese-and-onion enchiladas. Shocker, right? I ordered one, which was delicious enough to crave three more (I resisted) plus a chalupa and a side of rice. Very, very good. As was my strawberry margarita. Best part of the meal was the mariachi trio that traveled around the patio. The gentlemen lingered at our table for a while, as they could tell we were mesmerized. Everyone else in the restaurant is a dick for not paying attention, which proves to me how much I need to move out of non-cultured suburbia.

Have you ever been to a movie at Tower City on a Friday night? No? Maybe you should. The theater was completely empty. We were the only two people in to see The Proposal (until a worker - seemingly off her shift for the night — came in to babysit us). One day, we’re going to throw a party…

Saturday morning was another wonderful day at the West Side market! I found a couple new recipes to try for our nightly home-cooked (by the BF) dinners for the week. And the BF promised me breakfast, so I chose big french toast with blackberries and blueberries.

To work off all that sugary sweetness, we took the bikes out, heading up Detroit (from downtown) to check out the Made in the 216 event. I was so pleased with all the merchandise, but left with no wares because we were on the bikes. (But now I have some fabulous gift ideas!)

After window shopping, we took the tunnel/bike path over to Edgewater, then over to Whiskey Island to sit and enjoy a beer in the sun. I thought for some reason there was live music at Sunset Grille on Saturday afternoon (there was a DJ)… I guess it’s later Saturday evenings and Sunday afternoons.

The parents came up for dinner at Great Lakes Brewing Company. It’s been a couple years since I’ve had FOOD at GLBC, and just as in the past, it’s not all that impressive. I went for the risotto, being that I was not in any meat mood. I do thoroughly enjoy the beer though, so there’s that.

I was excited to bring AB to Velvet Tango Room for his first visit. The parents were very pleased as well. Paulius, ever fantastic of a host, made me one of his new drinks soon to be on the menu. Fresh ginger. And slices of fruit. Mmmmm! I cannot wait to try them all (especially the fall versions)! He really knows what I enjoy for a tasty cocktail.

Oh, but wait — there’s MORE! King Britt was making a scheduled DJ appearance at Mercury Lounge. A friend of mine was promoting, and another knew the DJ and another group of friends from Brigade were sponsoring, which left us in excess of drink tickets for vodka drinks, which always makes for a fun night of dancing. King Britt — awesome!

The unscheduled (ha) end-of-the-night strip club visit was not a good idea. We called the car to take us to Christie’s, where the girls were enjoying a night of “standing room only.” (I was not). It took forever to have a waitress even obtain a drink order — not one single hot girl approached. Not even “dirty hot.” It was WORSE than a b-squad. You know Christie’s is bad when you would rather go hang with the girls from ED’s. Point being, I think we will eventually give up and become Diamond whores.

Sunday (after sleeping in for a tiny bit — meaning, up at 7:45, for serious?), I met up with my girlfriends from elementary school for brunch at Flying Fig — one of my favorite tasty breakfast places in Cleveland! I love their coffee (and the dish of raw sugar served alongside). It was a fine Sunday for Fig’s migas with chorizo, and to catch up with my girls who I rarely get to see from over there on the far east side o’ the river.

Note: no mimosas until after 1pm (even though the table beside us had beers and bloody mary’s well before… could not figure that one out).

I’ve been in sporadic bouts of pain from something this past week, and this is the part where I cry. Just over-emotional, uncontrollable sobbing train wreck came out one morning. I’m better now emotionally and physically. But mainly because there is nothing like a hug when you really, REALLY need one.

Yeah, I haven’t thrown any sappy at ya in a while… I’m done now.

Listening: The Middle East — If they do not start touring the US, I swear I will fly to Australia just to listen to the group live! “The Darkest Side” is such a hauntingly beautiful song!

Also, check out my Monday Morning Mixtape selections this week at Addicted to Vinyl, as well as my review of the Better Than Ezra concert at HOB.

Drinking: hehe, boyfriend’s Christmas Ale. He was kind enough to bring a couple over to my place to celebrate Christmas in July!

Cheesing: Cahill Porter (cheddar) — very distinct in its porter taste. It’s also very, very different from the types of sharper cheddar of which I prefer. I found myself eating more of that than the blue I selected (odd). I’m a huge fan so far of the selection of Cahill “beer and whiskey” cheeses.

Smokey Bleu (I will get the name of the creamery) — has the creamy taste of Maytag, with a delicious (absolutely fucking fantastic delicious) hint of smokiness. We noticed the smokey flavor was more prevalent as you made your way from the inside to exterior. It is a bleu for those who may not particularly desire one.

Thinking: Hugs are the universal medicine — Unknown

Up next: opening night dinner at Bar Symon!!

Don’t you just love a Tuesday? I mean, only if it’s Penis Tuesday! The sun is shining, the air so crisp — skies blue, perhaps — and oh look it’s a PARADE downtown in the middle of summer!

In honor of Gay Pride (which I wholly forgot to recognize with a “Pursuit of Your Girlfriend” nod), the required mascot to bringing up the rear:

You still have another week to enter the newest Penis Tuesday Cum Off Wipes Giveaway too! To enter, all you have to do is tell me in the comments a foreign word for “sausage” that could also cleverly (or humorously) mean “penis.”

Go Penis!

What do party push-ups, non-naked lap dances, falling guitarists and Bob Seger all have in common?

Absinthe.

Or just absinthe at my friend’s birthday party in Indiana.

We took off last Friday for a weekend in Indiana — my friend lives very near South Bend. With a good four-hour drive and a night of sleep, we were up early to bike over to the Notre Dame campus.

Where I found Jesus. Touchdown Jesus!

Six points!

After checking out the gorgeous campus (and not believing it’s been since a band trip my Freshman year since I’ve been there… yeah, band), we biked through the Holy Cross campus as well. There’s a fantastic (and easy) trail called, I think, End River (I saw a hundred signs, but cannot remember). The path followed the route of the river that runs through South Bend which seems to be coursed out purposely for extreme kayakers. By the looks of the rapids, it was probably a III or IV in some places. I really, REALLY want to get a white-water kayak next summer. Really.

Being that it was a gorgeous sunny afternoon, we stopped for lunch at Emporium, enjoying a couple sandwiches and salads on the patio. And a beer — which ended up being a pint of the local Four Horseman Red Irish Ale brewed at the Mishawaka Brewing Co.

We returned on the trail back to our starting point, to return to the liquor stores and clear them of all cases of Three Floyds Alpha King (AB’s favorite brew). Side note, I found a bottle of 2005 Crazy Llama Malbec for only $6.50 at the local liquor store. Awesomeness!

While I checked for more bug bites (seriously, I’m having an outbreak of getting bitten by spiders and what-not over the last month), AB helped the Birthday Girl prepare food for the party. The mix of couples was so fun and then my friend’s very-soon-to-be-husband broke out all the Czech-indigenous alcohol: slivovitz (plum brandy that I did not get to try while in Prague), Becherovka (my favorite) and abinsthe (from the Czech Republic — REAL absinthe!). After a couple shots of each sort of liquor (including an already full stomach of homemade sangria), I began eating sugar that was just soaked in absinthe. Needless to say, I was not only spiked with alcohol, but high on sugar. ADD was definitely kicked into high gear.

There was dancing and push-ups contests and a guitar guy falling flat when he thought there was a chair underneath him. Someone falling out of bed (more than once) in the room next to ours. Oh, I love good house parties. And when one of the guests leaves his Bob Seger’s Greatest Hits CD in my possession.

Surprisingly, the hangover was non-existent on Sunday morning. We drove up to St. Joseph, Michigan for a day at the beach. We kayaked a bit in Lake Michigan (beautiful, smooth beach here, by the way), walked the length of the waterfront… and of course, ended the sunny afternoon with an ice cream cone and a stroll in the little town. What a perfect weekend!

Listening: New Better Than Ezra. Eh. I’m trying REALLY hard to like it as much as the old stuff. But “Nightclubbing” from the new album is fantastic! Review on the HOB concert next week at ATV. Also, geeking out majorly to Thunderheist — who is at Grog Shop TONIGHT!

Drinking: seeing how AB cleared out two liquor stores of their Three Floyds Alpha King supply, I will be drinking those. Or his Great Lakes Christmas Ale. *smooch*

Eating: created our own Indian dishes last night. Put together an awesome chickpea-cucumber salad and my own mustard dressing with no recipe (but a lot of questions about whisking the dressing to AB). I’m proud of myself. It was really a good summery salad addition!

Cheesing: I stayed away from cheese this week. I know, I know… you don’t believe me.

Thinking: I understand that absinthe makes the tart grow fonder — Ernest Dowson

Exploration into Google Search: do Mexican men call their penis a chorizo?

I’m certain I have used the term “Big Kielbasa” in the past (rather exaggeratedly) and it had nothing to do with BBQ. So, really though, do certain ethnic groups refer to the male penis as euphemistically as our English-language “sausage”? Do any of the foreign languages have a word for “hot dog” that would also be compatible?

While you ponder that and wipe all that “sauce” from your face, I have a new contest: a package of Cum Off wipes (unfortunately, no freebie website info was given). Answer in the comments with a foreign word for “sausage,” and I’ll pick a winner at random.

Once again, thanks to the ever-awesome women of Single Edition.

Everything that I’m doing this weekend can be done in Cleveland: kayaking, biking… drinking. It’s just that the PEOPLE are not in Cleveland. So, we’re headed out to a (hopefully gorgeous) weekend in Indiana to celebrate a birthday and sorry-we’re-missing-your-wedding soiree, including a day trip to Lake Michigan.

And apparently there is a beer that is mighty tasty (so says AB) which can only be purchased in IN. Will report later.

Listening: Patrick Wolf and My Little Pony and annoying others with old female folk singers.

Cheesing: Love, love, love this grass-fed cow raw milk cheddar from Kamm’s Corner farmer’s market (I’ll have to write down his name next week). He has blueberry cheese, people — BLUEBERRY! And it tastes like cheese. Incredible!

Thinking: Great things happen when you let them! (unknown)

Doesn’t everyone have a kinky cop fantasy? And while mine involves me in the backseat of a cruiser, it was not quite like this experience. Maybe I need to change the set-up to the engine hood or something…

LadyShay wins the pair of Pocket Rocket Jrs. from Babeland and Single Edition.
Emphasis on “extra gadgets” (assault rifle!! now THAT’S a clever euphemism!). Lady, email me your info. She gets total kudos for posting her awesome penis answer in the comments, instead of bombarding my inbox with emailed cyber porn (ew, jerk).

Next Tuesday (yeah, I know I said this Tuesday, jerk off already) starts another Penis Tuesday contest.

I love those special Cleveland (week)nights where the statement “just one more” becomes a “last call” at a strip club.

Near the end of my Wednesday, I was given a four pack of tickets to the Indians game — conveniently located in the first row RIGHT in front of the Batter’s Eye bar. Awesomeness ensued… but not on the field. At least not from the Indians. *sigh* Man, they suck. The Tribe had a good rally, but nothing much was going to become of a team whose outfielders cannot even call his catches. Seriously, Little League. (Our neighbors were calling out “Bush League” to DeRosa which was just hysterical. Although I couldn’t quite figure out their MC Hammer comments towards the Brewers… pants?).

Thankfully, we were not shut out completely from rain. But we couldn’t handle the impending loss, and left the game early. But hell yes for GLBC Elliot Ness served at The Jake (or Pro Field, whatever).

We returned to Forti’s (where we already had some bar food pregame action) for Tots. You know, the best bar food in existence: tater tots. Beer makes me very, very hungry for tots.

After another beer or two at Forti’s, my married guy friend started telling stories about a horrible strip club downtown. Of course, we had to go to check this shit out. Enter: Executive’s Den. And tits.

Oh boy, this place was filled with some crazies and broke-down strippers — five or six “hotties” on schedule. And it was such a fun night with AB and one of my married guy friends (who the strippers thought I was married to). There were a couple (naked) ladies who were pretty hot — definitely better polished for Christie’s or Diamonds, but newbies to the race.

I had an absolutely insane (and hot legs to boot) red head drool on me (I swear she was foaming at the mouth) and show me her vagina (and get makeup on my shirt WTF?). We were allowed to spank, touch (yeah, I know — no touching) and put money in places wherever we desired. The bartender was a total bitch and actually approached one of our faves WHILE SHE WAS ON STAGE for her to tip out — completely interrupting our attempt at making friends with the boobies. And we made friends quickly with a couple of the girls. We will definitely go back (I mean, it’s walking distance).

By closing time, we were completely out of singles (yeah, it’s a singles place), yet seemed to keep pulling hidden money out of purses and pockets. It was not a typical strip club — almost like a bar that just happens to have some topless chicks dancing on a pole in the corner. So, it felt… cozy. I love these random nights.

It was a completely ironic celebration of THREE MONTHS with AB. Ah, bliss and happiness.

Condoms off!

Penis Tuesday Hard On #1 (ahem, the contest) has now ended. Winner will be announced by the end of the week.

As always, my readers are a special bunch of bananas. Thanks for your submissions.

Penis Tuesday will now return to your regularly-scheduled whack-off time.

Hey, horny bitches and bastards!

One last day to submit your response as to why your boyfriend’s penis is awesome. So far, you perverts have officially cracked up my shit. So leave a comment down there or here or email me here: melinda@pursuitofyourboyfriend.com or put it in there (I don’t care) to win a pair of Pocket Rocket Jrs.

All new salacious contest starts with tomorrow’s Penis Tuesday.

Once again, thanks to Single Edition and Babeland.

PS: Follow us all on twitter:
Mel
Single Edition
Babeland

Including that highway patrol trooper standing practically in the passing lane on 71-South.

It took five years, but I have another speeding ticket to add to my list. Shit. I was unusually nervous upon being pulled over this time too — and really, really pissed off and frustrated at myself. So much, that I cried. I freaking cried for the first time in front of AB because of a fucking ticket. I felt so lame.

Yeah… anyway. The cop was a dick (shocker), and he separated me from AB, and made me sit in the back of his cruiser, and accused me of drinking (because I was chewing gum), and berated me about “my guy not liking cops” yet assuaging the belief he was under the legal drinking age. WTF? This incident was ripe for blog, for sure. My first time in the back of cop car. Fabulous. And I was “only” going 76. And NO, I was not drinking. And YES the cop made me enter his car on the freeway side of traffic. Now, had I been drinking, me thinks this would have been a superbly dick move on his part.

Aside from that, we had an awesome weekend, with Friday and Saturday spent in Columbus for the Memorial Tournament. It was a pretty cool sight watching Tiger Woods golf in person — so seemingly effortless. We didn’t follow him throughout the course on Saturday — just the first and 18th holes — but regardless, it was a beautiful day to be outdoors, on the grounds of a gorgeous course.

Sunday, we checked out the Kamm’s Corner Farmer’s Market, and although there is a serious deficiency in produce, it’s a nice outdoor market. I’m really happy to have Ohio City Pasta there this year, and it was fate that I would finally run into “Cowboy” George from p’Zazz Hot Sauces in person. I also brought home some interesting local cheeses made with milk from grass-fed cows.

Fully indulging in all things organic, I also stocked up with groceries from Nature’s Bin in Lakewood. And OMG, found a Pimento Goat Cheese, which is FABULOUS!

What weekend would be complete without a couple additions to my DVD collection? You know, for all those lame weekends I stay home. Right? I found “Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure” (I’m not sure how this wasn’t already in my collection) and “2 Days in Paris” (one of my favorite more recent releases) at Record Exchange on Detroit. Sweet!

Now, a weekend to relax with art, movie, perhaps a bike ride and writing(!!). And the leftovers from my delicious Mexican Lasagna that I made this week.

Cheers!

You have until Tuesday to enter my Awesome Penis Tuesday Giveaway too! C’mon, don’t be shy! Or lie and tell me your boyfriend’s penis is really 10 inches long with the girth of a cucumber. Fabulous.

Best Google Search EVER: my bf’s penis is awesome

Which prompts direction to Life, Liberty & Pursuit of Your Boyfriend’s blog giveaway! On behalf of Single Edition, I got some sweet sexy schwag to pass along to my readers. For the single and fabulous (exclamation point), sign up for Single Edition’s newsletter. And thanks to SE, I have some cool stuff to give away over the next couple weeks.

So female readers (or males, if you feel ever so inclined to entertain me), tell me how your “bf’s penis is awesome” by commenting below or privately emailing me: melinda@pursuitofyourboyfriend.com, and I’ll send the “winner” a pair of Pocket Rocket Jrs. courtesy of Babeland.

One for you to keep, and another for you to pay it forward! Or to keep in your desk drawer, I don’t care, you pervert.

AB & I went to the Friedlander exhibit a month or so ago (after a fun Lolly the Trolley tour). I really hope you were able to attend the closing weekend of his photography exhibit. It was truly an amazing event here at CMA. Of course, I loved the rearview mirror black-and-whites… giggled lovingly at the nudes. The 70s afro-bush nudes.

What is art, if you cannot feel the silly, erotic and sexy emotions upon viewing a nude woman, right?

I cannot wait to visit CIA to see Warhol’s prints next weekend AND for the new wing to open at CMA this summer.

Moving on… it’s been a very busy summer thus far. Last Friday, I went to see Star Trek. I was on the edge of my seat! Being a “Trekkie” already, I really enjoyed the film’s constant action and plot-twisted storyline. Although I was a bit disappointed to not see a cameo of Wil Wheaton.

Afterward, we sat outside at 87 West in Crocker Park with a couple glasses of wine. I am on a Malbec kick right now, and thoroughly imbibed in my glass of Urban Uco on 87W’s patio.

I’m very lucky to be dating someone who likes to cook as much (if not more) than I. Most Saturday mornings, we head to the West Side Market selecting our fresh foods for planned meals. (I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to find someone equally food obsessed, even if my cheese fetish is ruining his diet). I’m really excited for the Kamm’s Corner Farmer’s Market to reopen this Sunday too, which creates an advantage for those weekends we cannot visit the market on Saturdays.

But, oooh those giant $2 apple fritters at the market. Yum.

Last week I tried a new recipe for Cool Cucumber Soup, and it paired amazingly with the lamb chops that he made. We also boiled up a couple ears of corn to balance out the meal. Tasty.

To extend our sunny Saturday afternoon, we stopped into Big Fun on Coventry (first time in the new location — where have I been?!) to do a bit of “80s shopping” for the party to which we were invited. We both settled for “carnival” shirts with 80s cartoons molded to the front (I chose the Misfits from “Jem” cartoon) and some slap bracelets.

I have no idea how Brigade became part of the 80s experience, but I ended up purchasing a designer pair of skinny jeans anyway (albeit not for the costume party). I’m silently craving the black skinny jeans too, but I’ll have to wait a couple bonuses to justify TWO pair of skinnies.

The 80s party in Lakewood was fun. I was finally able to rock out in my LA Gear jean jacket that I’ve owned since I actually WAS in the 80s. Fun fact: I was seriously one of TWO people at the party who was NOT born in the 80s. After the party was broken up by an angry landlord, we took to drinking at Merry Arts. *sigh* One of the better bars of Lakewood, but not so much my speed anymore — unless there are tacos. Then rightfully, ANY bar will become my home base.

Sunday, friends were in town for a wedding the night prior, so we were able to catch them for breakfast at My Friends (ironically appropriate) before their drive back to Indiana. I’m really excited to visit them in a couple weeks for kayaking, biking and all-around birthday weekend (for her) fun.

The bf now has me hooked on Californication, so we marathoned through Season 1 on Sunday afternoon. Now, I need to catch up online before anyone spoils Season 2 for me.

For dinner, we cooked the enchiladas that we also purchased up from the market (something chicken and the other was chicken mole… I don’t remember), but I do remember the fantastic coconut and pineapple salsa. I will attempt to create my own version before the end of summer.

And what summer weekend would be complete without a Mitchell’s milkshake? Peanut butter for me this week. Alas, no bike rides to burn those calories off though.

I realize there are not many summer weekends left, as we seemed to be booked until August. Off to “watch” golf at the Memorial Tournament this weekend in Columbus. My friend tells me rumors of beer bongs on Hole 6. We shall see.

Stay classy, Cleveland! BTW, next week marks my 10-month mark for NO SMOKING. Nice.

Listening: Mayer Hawthorne and Akron/Family

Reading (attempting to with the absence of spare time): “The God Delusion” by Richard Dawkins and finishing up “When You Are Engulfed in Flames” by Sedaris (never have I read a Sedaris book which was so difficult to finish!)

Drinking: homemade brew from Brew Kettle in Strongsville

Cheesing: My cheese fetish of the week once again is Point Reyes bleu — it is by far my favorite of the bleus. I also tried a new Pondhopper cheese (from Wisconsin, I’m almost positive) both from the Cheese Shop at the market. Pondhopper hardened faster than I expected, so be sure to eat within a couple days of purchase. It has a nice “hoppy” kick to its finish. I’m beginning to think that the selections of whiskey cheeses and the like will make their way into my grocery list on a regular basis.

Thinking: “What you are afraid to do is a clear indicator of the next thing you need to do” - Unknown

Most of you have probably made some mistakes in Vegas. So have I. And yes, I know this post is over a month late.

My first mistake was booking a room at Treasure Island. With its perfect Strip location, reasonable room rates and recent renovations, this hotel should not be an eyesore. But this hotel sucked. My check-in started great, with my name/room put instantly on notice with a bottle of champagne for my birthday celebrations. That being said, I had issues with length of time for drinks (only drinks!) to be delivered to the room (even if the room service gentlemen called me “angelic” while in the midst of getting ready to go out). I swear even to order those drinks was annoying, as the phone kept ringing and ringing and ringing, then someone would answer and hang up. Then I would call the front desk, they would transfer me to service, then repeat aforementioned scenario.

I then took issue again with that department when my breakfast took FOREVER. The staff then took away that uneaten breakfast when I left my room for a moment to visit friends after its delivery. I told them NOT to clean my room. An almost untouched meal… just tossed. I was pissed. Especially when I received my room service bill!

My room key card stopped working THREE times! Mind you, I needed it in the elevator to reach my suite level, then it suddenly stopped working upon arrival to my door. They blamed my iPhone. Bastards. One morning, at around 4am (yeah, I was out that late — maybe it was 5, come to think of it…), when it did not work again, I called security from the floor phone, and waited TWENTY minutes with no response. Imagine if I would have been in real trouble… Good going, TI.

I had to go back down 33 floors, return to the front desk for another key, and the guy did not even acknowledge me. I was angry and tired and I had been drinking (and probably hormonal, as per usual). Bad combination. When I asked him if he heard me, he deflected my concern to “the call center” with no fault to the front desk staff. Awesome, you rude dick.

The pool also sucked. It was crammed and small (thankfully my friends were staying at Encore, and with the exception of loud, thumping techno music at 10am, its pool was awesome). Not one time was I approached at TI if I wanted a drink or something by the staff. They have flags at the back of the chairs to place upright for service. Most were missing. The closest flag was three rows up. And you couldn’t even walk between the rows, all the lounge chairs were so packed in.

My next Vegas mistake was playing craps (this, no fault of TI, as I left for Encore as much as I could). *sigh* I am no craps expert, but usually you can get a good momentum rolling at a table and play along. Not our table. I was down about $400 in 20 minutes. And only one free drink. I should have saved that money for the Paige denim store. Dammit.

While visiting my friends at Encore, we met a couple other groups of peeps in town. Small worlds ensued when this Miami dude knew one of the girls’ friends in Florida. (Small talk in the elevator is always hilarious, especially when people are yelling and swearing at each other). I dubbed him “CSI: Miami” for the duration of the weekend (as my friend took a liking to him and he was the room next door to hers). His nickname was not so far off, as he really was a Miami Dade detective. Just not CSI.

CSI:Miami had a friend who looked like the PC guy from the Mac/PC ads. No joke. I’m almost positive it was really him. But I digress. He was married and it seemed harmless adding their group to our already-large group of drinkers. Until we were all out late in the lounge, and he began pointing out all the hookers “on dates” in the casino. Then things turned seriously creepy. I do believe he thought my friend and I were, ahem, “hired bootie.” He kept intentionally trying to separate me from my friends (he asked if I would walk to the gift shop with him… weirdo). I could not wait for my egg sandwich to arrive, so I could book it back to my hotel. Creepy. Mistake? Hanging out with lonely losers.

While my last day at Vegas was fairly relaxing, I had to wait almost ten hours from check-out until my flight left. My friends left in the morning, so I spent the entire day by myself. I walked the length of The Strip, through every hotel and casino, bought chocolate from Ethel M’s and lunch at Canter’s Deli (suggestions from AB’s parents), had a midday drink at Harley Davidson patio, visited the Lichtenstein, Warhol & Friends exhibit at The Bellagio (AMAZING! I was so excited upon viewing Hans Hoffman’s “Angelus”), ate dinner at an Italian “outdoor” restaurant at The Venetian, chatted with a local art gallery owner about rock n’ roll art and Charles Schultz. For being alone, it was a busy and fulfilling day.

And who could forget the Red Eye? Never, never again. Mind you, there are a LOT of people who do this, as the airport was filled with people — still drinking and still gambling. And I made a lot of fun connections (more on them next post). But the Red Eye home killed me. I arrived in Cleveland at 6am Monday and had to go straight to work. (Although I opted for a quick nap, and slept through my alarm. Oops).

The biggest mistake of all was thinking I can drink remotely anything near what I could three years ago when I was Vegas. I spent most of my Saturday afternoon in bed with fucking housekeepers who do not understand “Do Not Disturb” signs and knock on EVERY. SINGLE. DOOR. the length of the hallway (”Housekeeping?” *knock, knock, knock* Every mother-fucking door). So fucking annoying. And disturbing. I hate this fucking hotel, and I had no qualms about filling out a survey to tell TI after my return to Cleveland.

Oh, but there were great times too! Stay tuned…

Everybody loves a penis. Snatch, everybody loves a BIG penis.

Brought to you by my lovelies at Jezebel, the 20 Famous Big Dicks List. And that link provides ANOTHER link of OMG… Colin “Baby’s Arm” Ferrell.

Don’t you just want to eat suck ‘em up?

Internets, I’m very, very sad today. Nay, heartbroken. This type of post is never easy…

My man is leaving Cleveland.

I was really thinking this one would last — even if just through the summer. I mean, it’s been a rough few weeks, and he hasn’t been so much on his A-game, so I suppose I should have expected something like this. Nonetheless, these sort of separations are never easy.

I will miss you (and your suckiness) dearly.

*sniff*

I put my weather on shuffle. Check out my Songs to Blame For the Rain over at Addicted to Vinyl. Duel post Day — ZOMG!

Frequently, I see the Google Search “things to do with your bf on a rainy day” come up in my stats. It’s as if the rain comes and all of our relationships are doomed!

I can think of 101 Things to Do With My Boyfriend on a Rainy Day. And 100 of them have to do with sex. The other “one” has to do with sex, but not with my boyfriend. Oh. “Things to…” and not “Ways to.”

Really though, if two people are so bored with one another that there is nothing other than Googling “something to do,” well, then, perhaps Google will tell you that this “boyfriend” will not do. Because I never met a day of snuggling under the comforter in my bed and a good hand job that I didn’t like.

Eh, put a sock in it:

Or take that sock out of your pants, and recycle its additional use as part of a life-sized sock monkey. Complete with Giant Sock Monkey Penis (courtesy of Women Be Trippin)

I realized I still have a few Vegas stories to tell. No time for that today.

Vegas. At the lounge in Encore.

I also haven’t shared with you all the awesomeness of my birthday celebration. No time for that either.

And yet I'm still hot.

I did have some time last week to piss off a few folks on Addicted to Vinyl. They love me, really.

And then I added some sexy local politicians to the running for Sexiest Politician 2009.

Seems as if I’m everywhere else but HERE.

And then here is where I camped last weekend:

Bliss Reflected.

Ahhhh… (another vacation, right?)

And an AWESOME birthday present from AB, filled with a lot of the Spoiling of Mel.

That is gourmet campfire breakfast, bitches!

Of course, there was more included than just breakfast.

And then we visited one of the most spectacular sites in the country:

A *must* see!

So many stories. No time to tell them. So, you get pictures.

But nothing more of Vegas, of course. Because who takes pictures in Vegas.

Love, Mel.