10:30 p.m. - January 17, 2006
Quit whining is all I've wanted to say all morning, during my lunch break (which was so interrupted by questions and comments by well-wishers, ne'erdowells, and those inbetween, that the hotel staff took away my salad because I didn't have a chance to eat it), all afternoon, and all evening.
Houston was going to be a complete wash except the unexpected happened. I'm having dinner with several other teachers, a fun coterie but for one, and I mention I have this thing for cowboy hats which sparks a discussion of Texan culture (yes, I agree - daunting, but it can be done with enough margaritas and tequila shots), when a cowboy hat I'd swim in lube for as prep for a royal fucking walked through the door. Classic, heart-pounding, hot cowboy hat. Angelique nudges me, says Like that kind of hat? and I nod, worried the neon sign with its arrow is blinking :: Gay :: Gay :: Gay :: over my head. Angelique smiles, gets up, and spends some time with the cowboy hat. One (good) kiss later, the cowboy hat is in her hands. I wish I were that adept.
I didn't have to kiss Angelique to gain possession of the hat. She just said welcome to Texas!
(And this cowboy hat just smells like a man. It's intoxicating. I just sniffed it again.) If I sniffed underwear I'd probably be less alarmed.
On Friday I head to Dallas where I'm meeting Joel in person. Essentially I invited myself over for the weekend - audacious, more than a slight twinge of foreboding, prepared for the recurring detritus that occurs when my hopes and reality collide.
But like I said, if it's miserable, I'll just head home. Simple!
I am in a strange mood tonight; it's one part loneliness, one part I-had-fun-at-dinner, two parts dread: Dread tomorrow's training, and dread going to Dallas.
Another sniff. Methinks I must sleep with the cowboy hat tonight.