I'm cheating again and I'm going to backdate this blog. I used to just say sorry I am so late getting around to it, but these days I use my blog like a Time Hop, so I'd rather have a semi-accurate date on it depending on the story I'm telling. But I digress. We just got back from a long weekend in NYC.

We've struggled to find our place there. Different hotels, different neighborhoods, nothing ever really felt right. Well, folks, you'll be as thrilled to hear as I am thrilled to announce - we finally found our home away from home in New York. The Chelsea Hotel. It's this super old building with a rich and storied history of being a haven for artists and musicians. But it's been bought out and turned mostly into a high end hotel. I say mostly because some people still live there, so walking down the hall to our hotel room, we passed two residents' doors. I assume that is occasionally annoying but it probably also basically saved the building so take what you can get. There were three restaurants, and we tried two. Both were fab. And we'd go to the bar at night for courvoisier and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

I'd never been to a Broadway show so Daniel got us tickets to two shows while we were there. One was Oh Mary! starring Meg Stalter. I love her to death and she did an amazing job, but ... eh. It was like bawdy and irreverent for the sake of it. I didn't really think it was that CLEVER or anything. Funny enough and we had a great time watching. But ... nothing like our second show Titanique - the telling of the story of the Titanic from Celine Dion's perspective. It was continuously riotously funny throughout with the best music and dancing. Loved it. Loved it.

What else? We went to the Met. Daniel had tried to gaslight me into believing I'd been to the Met before, but I definitely hadn't. Then we walked through Central Park and later on through Hudson River Park, and yowzah the eye candy. I definitely need to step it up or start taking peptides or something. We also saw Davbart and he and Colin took us out to a more traditional Chinese brunch that was completely chaos and then to the Tenement Museum which was super cool and I would def go back to that.

I don't know if New York changed, or if I changed, but I really enjoy it more now than when I was younger. I was even commenting that like nobody was rude the whole time. To us or otherwise. People on the subway said, "Pardon me," when it was their stop. Staff everywhere just super welcoming and friendly. Idk, it is just so enjoyable now where I didn't feel like that 20 years ago. The only thing I didn't like was that EVERY FUCKING ONE was playing Alicia Key's "New York" on repeat. Every store, every pedicab, everywhere you went, you'd sometimes even hear 2 or 3 renditions going on out of sync simultaneously. PEOPLE! There are SO MANY songs about New York. Mix it up!

Then whoosh, we were back home. A super fun little trip for no particular reason. And one we'll hopefully start to do with more regularity.

Well, I happened to notice that today marks exactly one year since my glorious return to SideshoViD.com. I just did a quick inventory and I made 38 posts in that year. That's actually a lot more than I was expecting. Though I have to say the addition of Instagram-like and Twitter-esque formats really helps boost those numbers. I wish I had thought of that back in 2002.

I came back from Spain, felt fine, went to work for a week, etc. Then Saturday afternoon I started to feel kind of shitty. I was sick right before Spain, so given how quickly I was feeling sick again, I decided to do what I never do and go straight to a doctor to get tested and find out what is ailing me. The doctor just called and said my test results were unusual, so it would be easier to explain over the phone (ALWAYS a good sign). I tested positive concurrently for 3 infections - a coronavirus (not COVID), an influenza bacteria (not the flu), and whooping cough? Fuck me. But the good news is a zpack will wipe out both bacteria at the same time, so I guess it's a good thing I went to the doctor straight away instead of waiting 3 weeks to see if it resolved on its own. Maybe I should do that every time I get sick. Is that what doctors are for?

In other news, I've been making minimal efforts to drink marginally less. One way I have done that occasionally is zebra striping. That's where you alternate one alcoholic drink, then one non alcoholic drink. The problem is, every non alcoholic drink sucks ass. They're just juice. Like, don't serve me a glass of juice and call it a MOCKTAIL. That is infuriating. So I went on a quest of my own to make a zero proof cocktail at home. Problem is, fake "liquors" are even worse. They're not even juice, they're just tea. Like literally a weak brewed spicy tea and they call it a whiskey replacement. It's insulting.

Well, folks, I am pleased to report I finally found a good one. I was talking through it with AI, because obviously, and I told it I wanted the bite, the flavor, the viscosity, the burn, the aroma, like everything. And it came up with 3 suggestions. We happened to be at Total Wine this weekend so I bought one of them. I told Daniel, "If this sucks, I'm giving up entirely." But it didn't suck. It's awesome. It's St. Agrestis Phony Negroni. And it pretty much tastes exactly like a real Negroni. Very satisfying and very reassuring that I should check out the other two AI suggestions and maybe get a repertoire going. We'll see, but I'll keep you all posted if I don't die first.

The last destination on our whistle stop tour of Spain was Madrid. Barcelona was big. Granada was cute. Seville was medieval. And Madrid was hip and sexy. It immediately had a different feel from the other cities. There were also rainbow flags ev-er-y-where. I dunno if it was just the neighborhood we were in, but it seemed like every bit of the city that we saw was the same. There was even a sex club next to our fancy hotel. We got brave one night and went in to check it out. It seemed like the more raunchy activities were all downstairs and we could just sit upstairs, fully clothed, in the tiki lounge and just have a drink. But the guy at the door didn't speak English and we couldn't really ask and then we got scared and ran away.

The first night we had reservations at the oldest continuously operational restaurant in the world, Botin. We got a set down in the basement which seemed more desirable than sitting upstairs. Daniel had eaten there many years ago and wanted to see if the grilled prawns were still the best thing ever, but after we ordered they came back and said no prawns tonight. Boo. So we both got the suckling pig that I read online was the most famous dish. And it was really good. As we were leaving the host guy said, "Did you see the wine cellar?" And we said no and he said oh you can't leave without seeing it. So back downstairs we went, and then down another level into a dark cramped brick covered tunnel filled with dusty wine bottles. And he kind of gestured, "Over here, there's more." And as he did he rubbed his hand on my crotch, and I thought, oh no! Don't acknowledge it, he'll get embarrassed! It's so cramped in here! And then it happened again. And again. And again. And then he put his hand on the small of my back and then ran his hands down and grabbed my butt. Haha. At that point, I looked at him and said, "Ohohokay, buddy. I think that's enough." I was SO excited to tell Daniel that I got groped. As we walked up the stairs from the cellar, I turned back to him and we both said at the same time, 'I just got molested!" This dude was doing it to him too! Like WHAT did he think was going to happen, best case scenario in a crowded tourist trap restaurant. So funny. We've both STILL GOT IT!

We did yet another tour in Madrid and our tour guide was awesome. He's even written books on Spain and gave us each a copy I look really forward to reading. We learned a bit more about the flip side of Spanish history after the Moors with the Spanish monarchy. This one is of note because they inbred SO fucking much that the later sovereigns were like deformed and sterile and it was a whole thing. We went through the Prado and our guide knew just about everything there was to know about just about every painting in there. It was really impressive and we had a wonderful day of learning. My fav.

The next dinner was at a Michelin star restaurant. We weren't sure we'd be up for it after so many nights of eating out in a row, but it ended up being a great idea. My dick didn't get groped, but my palate did get challenged. So many dishes I had ZERO idea what it even was that I was eating. And we paired it with a bottle of Krug, a nasty little habit we've developed, so that made it even more fun.

The Reina Sofia museum is full of modern art. It was sorta more inspiring than the Prado because I felt like I could do all of it. In fact, I might try. Instead of finding art for our house, what if I just made forgeries of existing pieces. It would be fun to try anyway. Our final dinner of the trip we just could not stomach more tapas, so we made a few aperol spritzes in the "red level" lounge at the hotel, then walked over to Popeye's and had a very disappointing chicken sandwich. The day we didn't fly home until 4pm, which was kind of sweet. Slept in, had a leisurely breakfast, took our time getting to the airport, and when we finally got home it was already time for bed. Win win win. All in all a great trip!

Our driver took us about an hour and a half directly to our Seville hotel. We did the Hotel Colon Check in, and then headed out a little, but again we were a little limited by the temperatures. Just so damn hot in the middle of the day. And the Spanish don't really subscribe to the religion of air conditioning. Our room was just slightly air conditioned. We actually spent the first night sleeping with no covers. But then we cranked the air down to 60 and left it running with the curtains closed nonstop the remainder of our stay and got it down to serviceable temperatures. I'm sure the maids were absolutely horrified at the waste, but the building just wasn't built to withstand such high temperatures ... and neither was I.

I told Daniel there damn well better be some feliz compleaños balloon in the room when we arrived, because the next day was my 45th birthday. And he delivered! Haha. There were some balloons (most of them inflated), a little tart, and a bottle of Freixenet! I mean, I didn't drink it, but it was a nice decoration. Freixenet, freixenet, ooh lah lahhhhh.

Naturally we had another guide who showed us all the times the muslims built something and then the xristians took it over. The food in Seville was pretty legit. Our first night we had tapas (obvi) but they were like elevated and delicious. One was a shrimp toast that we couldn't stop talking about. Then my birthday dinner was a tasting menu overlooking the river and I think that was maybe the best meal of the entire trip.

The next day is what we call a "David Day." A David Day consists of absolutely nothing scheduled. It allows for a day of rest and doing absolutely nothing, maybe sleeping. Or it allows for more spontaneous plans to be pursued. This time, we saw a modern market building called Las Setas (the mushrooms) on our tour and saw that they had a "modern" Flamenco show and went online and got tickets. The setting certainly was modern with lots of projectors and color changing LEDs, but the Flamenco was just Flamenco. So I felt like the light show kind of detracted more than helped, but it was still really good. And our tickets came with a free drink - bonus!

They say you don't know a city until you walk it. "They" being the one and only travel book I've ever read that was left here for me by Erin and Jezza. So when Allison needed a day to herself to get some stuff accomplished, I decided to set out on foot. Armed with only a basic layout map of the city, I set out heading south. Allison lives in North Sydney and I wanted to go to South Sydney, the separation being the harbour. So I got to walk over the Harbour Bridge. That was one of my goals before leaving. It only took me about 45 minutes to get to Circular Quay where the Operahouse and all the touristy stuff is. My original plan was then to figure out the bus system and see the rest of the city. But I am just not cut out for buses. The first one I wanted flew by because I didn't know you had to flag them down. And the only other one I tried the guy yelled at me because he wasn't going where I wanted to go. So I was like fuck that and hopped in a cab.

He took me down to Oxford Street in Paddington. It's where all the fancy boutique shopping is. I walked up and down the street, stopped to have some lunch, but never really shopped. Everything was really expensive but not necessarily Aussie by nature. And if I ever feel like purchasing some expensive clothes, I can just do that in Dallas when I don't have to carry it through customs. So then at the complete opposite end of Oxford Street are all the gay bars, so I decided to just hoof it over there and check it out. And then Hyde Park was just on the other side, so I walked through there. And then Circular Quay was just up the street from there. And then just over the bridge. So I ended up walking an obscene distance, nearly 5 hours of walking minus the cab ride. But it's true what they say, I totally feel like I know the city now.

That night Allison and I revisited Oxford Street and got shitcanned. But on the way I told her, "Yeah I found a couple nice places we could go to. But it seems like all the places I thought looked good were actually hotel bars." And she laughed. Apparently in Australia a "hotel" is a bar. Some law forever ago said that if you served alcohol you also had to have places to sleep, so they became one in the same long ago and now it doesn't mean hotel anymore, it's just synonymous with bar. Before we went out, we stopped for some dinner and I said, "This place is awesome. It's so nice but the entrees are so cheap." And she laughed again. Apparently in Australia an "entree" is an appetizer and a "main" is an entree. That's what's so fun about being here. It's all in English so I'm not totally lost, but it's just wrong enough to keep me guessing.

After walking around Sydney for an entire day, visiting several museums, landmarks, botanical gardens, hotels and restaurants, I really felt like I knew a lot about the city. And it made me realize how pitifully little I know about my own town. I couldn't begin to name one restaurant in the West End. I've just always assumed I didn't want to. But it's stupid that I know more about every city I've visited in the world than I do about Dallas. So I made a decision. When I get back, I'm going to take a tour of Dallas. I'm going to buy a travel book, get a hotel downtown, walk all over the place, see the grassy knoll. All that shit. I'm not even sure I know what the travel books will say to do! It won't be easy convincing locals to join me in my wide eyed camera toting tour of downtown Dallas, but we're going to do it by g*d. Who's with me?!

Man, I wish I had internet at home. As soon as I do, I will take a picture of my new haircut and show it to all of you. It is wild. My mother would hate it, which means that I really, really like it. I got sections of black, brown, and bleach done today and then she cut it REALLY uneven and its spikey all over. I am so conceited that I've spent most of the day trying to find a door or a window or a mirror to look at myself. Whoo. I'm excited. Okay, thats all I had to say, see you all this weekend on the floor.