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One of the Cherry Hill (gay) guys. |
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Andrew lives
in Columbia, Missouri with his partner, Jim, and their canine
stalker, Cowboy.
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Wednesday, December 04, 2002
We were sprinkled with a few snowflakes today, but nothing to be impressed with whatsoever. I'm waiting for some really, really deep stuff to take Cowboy out for a good old romp through the snow.
Jim and I are having my office over Friday night. Much to the probable dismay of several attendees, there won't be strings of christmas lights marking the path every which way throughout the house. The christmas tree isn't up yet, and there certainly won't be trashy icycle lights hanging from our gutters. I'll let you guess how I feel about plastic santas, wire-framed reindeer and all the other stuff that someone should be shot for ever bringing to market.
We may do some tasteful, candle-light brown bags along the sidewalk and porch steps, though. And we'll have some good music, food and drink. I am a bit concerned as one person from the office is a recovering alcoholic. I assume that she would know there would be alcohol there, but perhaps I should just mention it to be sure.
-andrew
2:31 PM
Sunday, December 01, 2002
Today Jim and I went back to this church that we've been interested in. They're philosophy is very gay-accepting, so we went back for our second Sunday in three weeks. Today, we tried the 'early' service and were a bit stunned that there were only two cars in the lot. We drove around, 'cruising' the church parking lot until we confirmed on the sign by the road that indeed, the starting time was 8:15. So, after maybe two more cars arrived, we went in.
Immediately a whif of cat pee hit me as soon as we opened the church door. The foul look on my face must have jump-started Nancy the people-greeter. She rushed right up to introduce herself and proclaim that "yes, it smells like urine." I would have thought that "pee" or "unpleasant" would be more readily-acceptable words to use in a church. But Nancy felt fine with blurting out the big "U" word to two total strangers. Anyway, she blamed the urine smell on the cedar christmas trees that lined the otherwise clean and tidy entryway. Relieved, I let my guard down and ceased to be on the lookout for litter boxes.
The rest of the visit was uneventful, with exception of the somewhat-artsy, older lady next to me (whom I will call 'Gladys') insisting that we purchase raffle tickets for the quilt she just donated to the church. She put on the pressure with some nonsense about being a 100% seller last sunday. We resisted. Sorry, Gladys.
-andrew
1:49 PM
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