photo by Vinna Katz

I like to have cocktails. I've liked having cocktails since I was 8. Aunt Patty and I would sip Crown Royal straight from the freezer and play illegal slots in the back room of Vera's Lounge. I was in it for the purple, velvet bag at first because I just KNEW I could fit all my gemstones and Tigers Eyes inside.

#WestCarrollton
#BabyGay

This past Christmas my buddy and I decided to do a DIY gift box filled with homemade goodies sporting trashy labels. It was a big success. We did two infused vodkas and, after countless tastings, I decided to give myself a yummy treat and do MYSELF a bottle.

I found the instructions all kinds of places (its all the same) but here are a few:
• About.com : How To Infuse Spirits
• A Beautiful Mess : Adventures in Infused Vodka
• wikiHow : How to Infuse Vodka with Flavor

I'm not going to reiterate their instructions. 

What I AM going to do is tell you everything not to do. 

These are anti-instructions. 

If you're anything like me you learn from fucking something up.

If you are using berries or anything that absorbs liquid, understand that they will ABSORB liquid. After a week and a half and two bushels of strawberries I had lost maybe 25% of my booze which, clearly, wouldn't do at all.

OUTS

• First of all - don't buy a handle of Papov and call it fancy-pants. It tastes like cheap vodka with a strawberry in it. I bought a smaller bottle of a mid-quality vodka because something happens as the berries ferment a little that makes it smell even more like potato water and burning. Personally I have never tried the Brita trick of filtering it 6 times but something about that doesn't seem realistic. If YOU have, let me know the results.

• Don't try to squeeze the vodka out of the berries with a paper towel. You will probably squeeze them straight through it. Not even Brawny can handle it and before you know it you've plopped them right back into the vodka and splashed it in your eyes. If this happens, take a sip and carry on.

• Maybe you can blend the strawberries and just strain them out?! BRILLIANT! That way you don't have to squeeze them in your filthy little paws.  Well it is a great idea until you realize straining vodka filled with berry mush is a fucking mess. It won't strain through paper towels or coffee filters. Before I knew what had happened my kitchen was covered in booze and I was drunk and eating I Can't Believe It's Not Butter off a makeup brush.

INS

After much frustration I gave up until I figured out how to get my mush out of my vodka. I put it in a pitcher in the fridge and gave it dirty looks every time I snatched a Coke Zero.

Must Have - Cheesecloth.

You can't find it fucking anywhere but Bed Bath & Beyond. I looked at TJ Maxx, Marshalls, & Target. I mean I don't know about you all but if I cant find it at Target, I'm straight convinced that shit ain't real-life. BB&B sells one brand of it and it's a strange waxy kind of cloth that doesn't seem to absorb liquid.

#BlackMagic

I folded it on itself twice and went to town. My mush didn't stand a chance of ending up in my vodka after that. I strained mine twice and rinsed the cloth in between

All the trouble aside I think it's worth it. The vodka is bright pink (enough said) and smells like strawberry jam. If you like giving boozy gifts, give it a whirl. You can also do the same thing in a smaller bottle with a few split vanilla beans and let it sit for a few months to make vanilla extract.

If you've done this or have yummy infusion ideas, well, put a sticky on it and drop me a line.

I think Gummi Bear is next for me. The kids on the playground all seem to love it.

Drink on, friends. Drink on.

As someone who struggles with my personal identity and who is constantly searching for the next component to add to my Personality Resume, I had a breakthrough recently over Subway cookies, Italian meats (I can't pronounce), and a chilly 312. Lemme tell ya about it.

So making friends in the city is complicated. If you want to meet people you have, primarily, a few options; work, some type of extra-curricular, a bar, or online. In my experience meeting friends through work is one of the best ways IF you have a job where you come in contact with a large amount of people fairly frequently. Macy's is still the best meeting place for gals and gays this side of the Mississippi - I'd bet my entire collection of Chanel lipsticks on that. But sometimes you sit in a cubicle or behind a drive-thru window (or worse, although I cayn't imagine anything worse) so you try out a book club or art show. Well the snag there is they actually expect you to read the books AND they're almost never about Edward, Bella, Bill, or Sookie. And, as I can vouche, artists are self-centered and want to talk about their OWN creative process and how deeply rooted their painting of a dot goes and how it's a "representation of the societal differences and social class blabbity bloop blahbitty". I'm like, "Dude, I wanna eat this pizza, drink a beer, and talk about scary movies and where to buy good weed." I kid, I kid - I only like romantic comedies.

But if you do want to chat about art, e-mail me.  I'd be glad to talk to you about myself.

ANYHOO, that leaves bars - where everyone is wasted and forget your name as soon as you say it.  Next, onto the Internet. Need I explain Grindr? I didn't think so.

So I met some people on a job... to keep their identities a secret we'll call them Jim and BJ.  Jim and BJ are two gays who recently got married and actually followed through and meant it when they said "we should have a drink sometime!"

So I swing by my buddy's and have some drinks with him and his bf before heading over to BJ and Jim's palace.  That's palace - not place.  I'm younger and wasn't sure what to expect.  I mean, I've seen the good, bad, and fucking crazy at weddings so I didn't know what to expect.  The last thing I wanted was for someone to say "Oh hey… didn't you walk around with a light and a bag at BJ and Jim's wedding?  Neat…"  Then there's the ever popular "Who are you again?  ... Aaaand HOW old are you?"

Please Note:  This is NOT because I expected anyone to be a dick-face.  This is simply because I have an engrained fear of someone not liking me.  I could walk into a room and woo 24 out of 25 and still kick myself in the shins because I didn't get all 25.  This is probably because I was made fun of for years, everyday, because I couldn't shoot a fucking basketball in gym class.  Unfortunately people don't forget...  But everyone that made me miserable got fat.  So, in a lot of ways, I win.

Again, I digress - Back to business...

Well I was tickled pink at what happened.  I spent the night with gays and lesbians, in a beautiful condo and chatted about everything from peeing the bed, racial slurs, food, whiskey, and wall sconces.

What I love, and what inspired me to write on it, is that over the course of that evening I spent time with a doctor, teacher, photographer, business owner, a painter, a designer (you get it). And - it was fine, which is a lesson I needed to learn.  Nobody looked down on anyone else or talked about money, or anything else terribly embarrassing.  I realized that sometimes people aren't assholes.  Sometimes a person is just that - a person. A person isn't their job. A person is bigger than their bank account.

AND people like to shoot the shit.  A lot.

I stress about money and, unfortunately, I do base some of my pride on how much money I'm making. Give me a break, I didn't grow up with money.  The parents split and I went to college which I'll be paying for, apparently, for the next 743 years.  But I want to wear nice clothes, have a cute apartment, own a car again (at some point) and I'm a shopper, Hontey.  And all that combined gets in the way of really doing your life and experiencing the fun and not-so-fun of it and being around interesting people.

One of the things I truly love about being here is meeting and being around people that are interesting and quirky and fun. I've maintained a fairly consistent core group of friends up until now and, sometimes, it does feel like a selfish decision to have left that group to explore a more exciting career-route and meet other folks.  It kind of makes you feel like a turd when you say you felt like you "outgrew" somewhere or "just had to get out".

I do believe that a place is only as good as the people in it.  If a teacher can talk to me about convincing someone else that HE pee'd the bed and then we can all nosh and smoke cigarettes until 2am, there's no reason why someone should feel like there's nobody out there to meet, be it platonically or romantically.

Long story short:
- go places when you're invited
- never underestimate the power of the Subway
- talk to strangers, ESPECIALLY when they offer you treats
- worry about making friends more than you worry about making more cash. They last longer, they talk back, and they're always good for bumming cigs and shooting the shit.

And, lastly, a big hug to BJ and Jim for embracing my crazy and incorporating me into theirs.  May we all end up in straightjackets in Miami by age 85.

So I took Monday off to recover from a super long work day (17 hours) on Saturday and to catch up on my housewife duties.  Since I'm not married and live alone I slept uptil 1pm and then took 7 hours to put away my 2-foot Christmas tree and do 3 loads of laundry.

I decided around 7:30pm that I should at least leave the apartment building once so I felt like I reeeeeally took advantage of the extra day off.  I told the old ball-and-chain I was headed to the market and he needed to to do something productive since I had been slaving over the Christmas tree for decades.  He lives in Ohio and we were Skyping so I think he ignored me and started watching porn.  

Where have all the cowboys gone?

Anyhoo, I went to the Morse Market around the corner and through the hood to grab some veggies and other goodies so I could make some delicious treats for myself this week.  I was stumbling past the tomato pyramid (and yes, I squeezed every one of them) when I stopped dead in my tracks in front of a bunch of kale.  Have you ever seen kale on the stem?  It's like 6 feet long.

So I'm standing in the isle, trying to figure out how to fashion this shit into a head-dress, and it hit me - I hate Olive Garden! BUT they make the best soup I've ever had - Zuppa Toscana.  It's a creamy-ish potato, kale, and sausage soup that I got every time I went.  Since I've been to Olive Garden 3 times total in 37 years you can IMAGINE how badly I wanted it.  So I goorgled a copycat recipe, stocked up on the goods and decided to give it a whirl.

Here's what happened:

Olive Garden Zuppa Toscana

by: Cycle Michael

http://www.food.com/recipe/olive-garden-copycat-zuppa-toscana-38298

Ingredients:

1 lb Italian sausage (I like mild sausage)   NO - use spicy.  Unless you're a puss.
2 large russet baking potatoes, sliced in half, and then in 1/4 inch slices
1 large onion, chopped
1/4 cup bacon bit (optional)  NOT optional.  And don't use "Bacon Bit".  Be a grown-up and use you 
     some real bacon crumblies.

2 garlic cloves, minced

2 cups kale or 2 cups swiss chard, chopped  Kale.
2 (8 ounce) cans chicken broth  I don't know if you notice or not, but this is the same as 16 ounces… 

     Also I used chicken stock, not broth.  I don't know what the difference is.

1 quart water  WTF is a quart?  I didn't even add water.
1 cup heavy whipping cream

Directions:

1 - Chop or slice uncooked sausage into small pieces.

Or you can get it in the tubes and squish it out the ends.  Makes me sick every.  time.

2 - Brown sausage in your soup pot.

3 - Add chicken broth and water to pot and stir.

Like I said earlier, I didn't even add water.  I totally forgot about it.  I just put in the chicken stock and the cream and called myself Giada.

4 - Place onions, potatoes, and garlic in a separate pot.

This is where I got confused.  Two pots?!  Ain't nobody got time for dat.  I threw the garlic and onions in with the sausage when it was about half cooked. 
5 - Cook on medium heat until potatoes are done.

This I did.  Kinda.  I basically just poured all the liquids in and cooked in on medium until the taters were easy to cut in half with my spoontula. 
6 - Add sausage and bacon.

I clearly didn't do this because the sausage was already in there because I used one pot.  Because that's the eco-friendly thing to do.  I  crumbled up about 4 pieces of cooked bacon and tossed it in. 
7 - Salt and pepper to taste.
8 - Simmer for another 10 minutes.

I ended up cooking mine for like 15 minutes on medium heat.

8.5 - Have 3 cocktails

 

9 - Turn to low heat.
10 - Add kale and cream.

When the potatoes were soft I tossed in the kale and simmered it on low for another 5 minutes.
11 - Heat through and serve.

And… VOILA!

Let me just pat myself on the ass and tell you all that this soup… is the shit.  It's spicy and filling and totally put me in the mood to watch a movie and eat ice cream out of the container.  It's not really easy because I tried to be all Food Network about it and cut the kale off the stems until I got good and drunk and just ripped it all off and threw it everywhere.  Everyone deals with stress differently.

In retrospect I should have waited on the cream but I had already mixed it with the chicken stock and I needed the liquid… because I forgot to add the water.  I think I maybe heated it up a little too much but it's delish all the same.

I give this recipe 4.5/5 kale stems.  It's going in my recipe book just as soon as I buy a recipe book.

I woke up one day and realized I was in a situation I vowed never to be in - a long distance relationship. I'll be the very first to admit I've never even been great at close-distance relationships. I never had amazing role models to show me how to have a "good" one.

So I'm in Chicago, having left my home of 26 years. In all honesty I assumed my relationship would quickly fizzle out. I mean, I moved to Chicago... Why not just find a new beau to skip over to The Bean with?

I learned an important lesson relatively quickly; quality trumps quantity. Yes, there are oodles more gays here than in Dayton, Ohio but that doesn't correlate to better, more compatible gays. If there are creeps in Michigan there are creeps in Florida if you know what I'm saying. The ratio of "normal" to "creep" is the same there are just a lot more examples to weed through.

So I realized that you don't find a great person under every rock or around every corner. I had spent ten years looking for someone who didn't make me want to punch his mouth off after being around him for more than 72 hours.

So I decided to hold on. And on this roller coaster, holding on is the best way to describe it.

I wanted to write about this because its something I choose to deal with, everyday. It is a situation I hate. I absolutely hate. Maybe someone out there has questions or had found him/herself hundreds (or thousands) of miles away from their partner and this will help? Maybe I'm just trying to make sense out of it for my own sanity. Either way - here you have it. It's not perfect but it's how we attempt to make it work.

• My Tools/Tips •

Skype - Everyday. We Skype everyday unless one of us is out of town. If you're anything like me when you don't see a person it becomes easier to forget them. If you think about it, Skype and FaceTime or Tango or whatever you use weren't really available 10-15 years ago. It was ICQ and Yahoo messenger and it wasn't a constant connection. We actually leave it on at night so we can roll over and see each other. His snoring wakes me up but you pick your battles.

Texts - We keep in contact periodically throughout the day with pictures, emoticons, this and that. all the normal things you'd do if you lived in the same area code. I guess it's the new love letter. It feels good just to have a reminder that he/she is there AND if you have iPhones you can see when each other is actually typing which makes it all seem more real and personal.

Respect - It is important to respect the relationship and understand that there are really (really) shitty moments and we can't physically be there for each other. But if we could, we would, and I had to learn to find comfort in that. It's also kind of a struggle between respecting personal freedom and the importance of communication. I don't like someone keeping tabs on me BUT if you want someone to give a shit about you, you don't get to tell them where and where they are allowed to.

Expression - I am very emotional and if I don't express the gamut of what I'm feeling I will eventually explode and then it's a whole big mess trying to piece my feelings back together. Speak up bc he/she can't know what you're feeling if you don't. I think it's a really special and important thing to see and hear "I miss you". I think it's also important to know what it's like to constantly miss someone.

Hope/Faith - You have to accept that life doesn't always follow the mantra "It is what it is.  What will be, will be."  Sometimes you have to grab it by the nuts and direct it.  If you have someone, I say just take the risk.  Even if this doesn't work out, I've experienced loving someone and really learning to appreciate the time I do have with him.  It really is a luxury to be able to cuddle up with your man/ladycandy every night.  If we broke up tomorrow I'd still walk away knowing I learned how to love and let myself be loved better.

Intimacy - Everyone wants to feel good about themselves.  I like to feel attractive and sexy - so he tells me I am.  He likes to feel strong and special - so I tell him he is.  (He's way better at it than me though, that's for sure).  I think, at least for me, I needed to learn to put more weight on being told "I love you". And don't get me wrong, it's not easy always reading it in a text or hearing it from a voice over the phone or on a computer screen.  But, it's important.  When you can't massage someone's shoulders after a long day or (my personal favorite) get a back tickle while you fall asleep, you gotta find it where you can.

Be Sexy - Are there really rules to a relationship or is everybody different in their thinking of normal?  If you need an open relationship try it out.  If you need 100% monogamy to feel secure then do that.  If you want to date a man and woman, give it a whirl.  Know what you need and know what your partner needs.  Send a dirrty pic.  Text a little filth.  It's reeeeeeally easy to find someone else online who'll spark those naughty bits so let your hair down and show your beaver... or whatever else.

Humor - He makes me laugh and when I'm feeling daunted by the fact that I have no car and live 5.5 hours away, it means so much to be able to smile through the tears...  and I cry a lot.  Be cute, be creative, call each other stupid nicknames.  Be a kid sometimes.  Your partner really is just someone you should enjoy spending time with and my friends are my friends because we are able to laugh together.

Sacrifice - Money, time, whatever comes easily.  It's a lot of work to visit another city and, equally so, to have someone visit.  I know when I have a guest we are going to run around and spend money, go to eat, experience life.  We have to squeeze 1-2 months worth of goodies into 4-6 days on average.  That's no easy task when you aren't willing to save a few bones to throw towards celebration.  It's a lot to ask a person to drive to see you once a month.  I'm lucky to even see him that much (which would have sounded crazy to me a year ago).

Compassion - Sometimes it's easier for me than it is for Eric and sometimes it's the opposite.  People deal with their emotions differently and I had to understand that my Gorilla hurts too.  He's my gentle giant and when he breaks down it's my responsibility to be strong.  I can't carry him but I can give him a tiny shoulder to put his head on.  Honestly, I think he taught me how to give a shit about someone else.  When I was able to understand that, I was able to stop being as selfish as I was always had been.

Realness - Above all, be real.  Be honest.  If you want to fall in love then let someone see your good and your nasty.  If you fake it to fall in love you're going to look in the mirror one day and flip the fuck out because you've denied some part of yourself to coerce someone into thinking you're the bee's knees.  If you need something, say it.  If you don't want something, say it.  Be tactful, be considerate, but be yourself.  You don't want someone looking at you in 6 months, 1 year, 5 years wondering who the hell you are and what happened to the person you "used to be".

This ended up longer than I initially intended.  I hope that it reads as... kind of what I have come to realize works for me.   Obviously I am no relationship expert.  I do not know how to fix a broken one and I certainly don't know how to be the perfect husband/boyfriend/partner.  Everything I learn is because I've fucked something up.  I'm just one of those girls and I've had a lot of bad relationships.

Long-distance is hard.  I had to make a decision to throw up my hands, tell Jesus to take the wheel, and try something that I hadn't ever tried before.  This could end up being the best decision I ever made... or it could all come crashing down when I move my Eric into my studio apartment and we live on top of each other for another 6 months.  Who knows?

If you find yourself in a situation where you have to leave, or your partner has to leave - maybe it's for work, or because they are in the military, or because they are having a mid-life crisis and have to eat their way through Italy, India, and Bali (wait... is that "Eat, Pray, Love"?)  REGARDLESS, just because it isn't ideal doesn't mean it isn't worth it.

I read that you should do something everyday that scares you.  When it started I was afraid it was going to end before I had a chance to fall.  Now I'm afraid of what would have happened if I had never taken the risk and let myself love the man my heart needed.

Hopefully this all made sense.  If I can do it, you can do it.

Belie' dat.  

  

Preparing to go home for the holidays is exciting! Having been gone from Ohio for six months now and working like a maniac during this past wedding season, I was MORE than ready for a week-long vacation.

But...

Nobody can prepare you for the emotional whirlwind caused by going home for the first time. Since I work out a lot of my feelings by talking and sharing with whoever will listen, I decided to blog about my experience; the good and the bad.

Before I left I was alllll atwitter with anticipation but I was also kind of anxious. When I snagged my position here in Chicago I was gone. Two weeks and I uprooted my life and plopped myself down into a roach-riddled apartment. I have since moved to a new one.

I was nervous about being an outsider. A lot happens in six months and when you try to reincorporate yourself back into the mix it can seem a little... Disconnected? Luckily I have a great group of friends that always make me feel like a queen, err, king. My biggest fear was having to hear something along the lines of "Oh what? You think you're better than us now that you're in ChIcaAaAaAago?!?" Needless to say that didn't happen.

I think the most difficult part is trying to remember that there IS a reason I moved. Everyday in Ohio wasn't a party when I lived there. I worked a job I hated, I felt like there was nothing to do, my best friend lived down the road and I never saw her bc we worked together... Etc etc etc. But when you come home for a few days, it's oooon and poppin. Everyone is more than willing to drink at 11am or drive you around, have big dinners and invite everyone you know. You can hang out all day, sleep in and pretend you don't have a job and you KNOW I didn't ride the damn train two hours a day in Dayton.

But even though all of these things aren't representative of reality it's not easy to leave it all behind and come back to your studio apartment and sit by yourself all night. No dog. No big apartment. No bedroom. I could go on. Going home is what causes homesickness. I'm so glad I went but part of me wishes I wouldn't have.

I am grateful for who I have in my life. Making friends really isn't easy at 27. I work with one person (if not alone) all week, I commute an hour to and from work every day and u can't rely on making buds at bars bc they never remember your name the next time they see you. I think this trip made me realize how valuable relationships are. Doing all this shit by yourself every single day isn't fun. I'm pretty independent but a gay needs his girlfriends.

So to all of you who haven't left the nest, I have some words of hisdom if I may:

• Call your parents. Go see them if you can. You'll need them one day for something big or for nothing at all and you should take advantage of them being close while you can.

• Be grateful for good friends. When you move, you'll realize some of your "good" friends are actually "great" one while some aren't as good as you thought.

• Always smooch your pets. They just wanna love you.

• Love your boyfriend or girlfriend as hard as you can. Even if you think it's not going to amount to anything long term. He/she may help you keep your sanity one day which is nothing to take lightly.

• Do things for yourself, don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it, ad don't be slow to offer help if someone else needs it. Pay it forward, bitches.

AND REMEMBER:  

You are never alone. 

<3

A friend of mine interns for Chicago Magazine and was given the responsibility of visiting some the best-rated dive and LBGT-friendly bars in the city. As a dive bar connoisseur (self proclaimed) I immediately jumped on the opportunity to explore the 4 & 5 stars of hole-in-the-walls. Our first stop was a basement bar in Lincoln Park called Galway Bay.

The neighborhood of Lincoln Park in Chicago, at first glance, is a beautiful neighborhood. I love Chicago for its architecture so the areas I've seen are beautiful in a modern architectural sense - Clean lines, new windows, red brick entry ways and tri-level condos for 500k. The neighborhood also (and this is my OPINION) is one of the less gay-friendly hoods I have visited and is more so an area for young professionals and early thirties couples. Straight couples. So I wasn't particularly thrilled at the idea of spending my night with bro'skies but I did, in the name of exploration! Plus he gets two drinks per bar comped. Pick your battles.

Regardless, Galway Bay is nestled in the bottom of another building (maybe a bar/snackaurant). And by nestled I, of course, mean its in a basement. If you didn't know it was there you wouldn't know it was there, kinda thing.

Immediately when you walk down the stairs into the exposed brick atmosphere you feel a little like Norm is going to greet you with a pint and "hey how are ya?"

Galway had two bars - a central, circular bar (just like its Cheers counterpart) and a back bar with the big TVs and pool table. When I was there a group of, you guessed it, 29-32 year old guys were screaming at the game while enjoying $2 PBR. Ladies to the left spent there time throwing darts and I sipped a 312 and snapped a few photos.

One of the more signature parts of the bar is located in the front, near the main entrance and main bar. A messy, equipment-cluttered area houses a few TVs, microphones and amps, and a Nintendo, SNES, N64 (more systems in boxes) and every game, controller, and accessory you could shake a stick at. We didn't play but if you like drinking an playing Duck Hunt on a 50 inch TV, you might want to check out this spot. They MIGHT even have Zelda.

Overall I liked this spot. As dives go it was clean, the people didn't act a fool, there was enough space to walk around without standing chest-to-back and it seemed like the type of joint where you could easily learn your bartenders name and vise versa.

I'll give it... 3/5 Mario & Luigies. I'm tempted to go 4 but I can't set the bar too high just yet.