The Butterfly in the Barrio

There have been a few things I've grown re-fond of lately: the comfort of knowing you have somebody around, gay men and their outrageous footwear, picking the skin from my thumb and using it as a toy, electric blankets and celebrity sightings, to name a few.

My celebrity sighting was not an insignificant one. I was seated across the table from my latest companion and Last Chance accomplice at a restaurant in a very Mexican area of town. One specialty margarita, and I was already tugging at the skin on my thumb, rubbing it in between my index finger and thumb nail to subside my hunger as we waited for the guacamole to arrive.

The waiter nudged my dinner companion, "Do you like boxing?"

"Yeah sure," he said.

"Look left. Muhammad Ali," He pointed, then he hurried off to get the guac.

Sure enough, there he sat..."The Greatest"... at a table of 10 or so at the next table over. He didn't say a word that I could make out, but it was Muhammad Ali clear as day. My version of inconspicuous photo-taking consisted of stretching my arm out, pointing the phone directly at his table, and simultaneously looking the opposite way. When he left, trembling from Parkinson's, it was clear the wonder he was, and still is. He could have knocked me into 16th street without blinking an eye.

I sipped on my marg and pondered while playing with my thumb skin. You can be so great, have a shining career, create a legacy and boast a world full of admirers and fans. But what's most valuable - and it was palpable from my sighting - was the table full of family and friends he shared his meal with.

As the holidays loom, I'm terribly excited to see family and old friends. In my 2+ years away from home, I still live my days blessed and fulfilled largely because of these people in my life. The crux of my existence, I look forward anxiously to the coming month.

Where's Waldo?

The rules for Last Chance shoppers worry me deeply. And believe it or not, these very rules were created in response to customer behavior exhibited every day at this place.

Feast your eyes on the crowd from this Saturday morning. I had an accomplice shooting video from above the mayhem. Phoenix's rendition of the Running of the Bulls. Possibly why I'm so drawn to it?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O6v6cA2RpuI

So you see, this is what I endure for my friends' Ugg fetishes. This year - I've had half a dozen requests for the lovely Australian Ugg, which my friends know are available at Last Chance. Every weekend, I have lined up for 'opening' at Last Chance to fight my way through the regulars to the back of the store for the goods. The only way you can get a hot item like the Ugg is to go as the store opens and fight to the death. Today, it was a battle between myself and the shoving, cramming and agressive shopping Pakistani man. His bony, nimble fingers snatched one pair I was aiming for, but not the others. I was quick and unyielding.

One weekend - four Uggs and one pair of riding boots. Only two more to go.

So where am I in the video? Bottom right, purple shirt, sly yet seasoned gait. Unstoppable.

Three Estrellas, I came and I went

New York left me with three painful blisters on my right heel. I literally limped off the plane from Chicago to Phoenix. Was it from stomping across Manhattan in stilettos? Not exactly. Us non-Manhattanites are simply not used to walking, as sad as that is. When I travel my normal 4-5 miles, it's in running shoes, not ballet flats.

I'm back in my comfortable 80 degrees. And at 11:00pm, I find myself mopping the floors, doing laundry and being productive in my own sense...replying to emails and
formulating baby shower plans, salon marketing plans for friends, and making a list of Uggs to pick up for my girls at the infamous Last Chance.

But to provide an update on New York City; it was as magical as expected. Absolutely beautiful women of every walk of life and an overly thriving metropolis crammed into a tiny island. Beautiful diversity from Harlem to Midtown, it's a city of dreams and crackheads. To my surprise and dissapointment, I didn't come upon any ditry rats. I also didn't find New York to be as outrageously overpriced as it's been fabled to be. For $6, I was able to find my favorite beer from Barcelona, Estrella Damm. See pictured elation. And, $15 for brunch - same as any old meal in the south. Dear New York - don't act pretentious. Making yourself out to be more snobby and elite than you actually are is hurtful and a letdown. We all know you have a lot going for you, but simmer a bit. Are we still talking about the city? Uhm.

It's wonderful to be back. I missed Charlie (my flourishing hanging plant) and sunny weather. I might have missed my silly routine. My after-work jog today gave me a sense of fulfillment unimaginable. And just hopping back into life in Phoenix was so stupidly fabulous.

It's good to be home. So good to be home.

To New York, New York

While the 'high of 51' in New York City might have me apprehensive, the excitement of seeing old (and giant) friends is even stronger.

NYC- I come to you with high expectations.

Post-Halloween Notion

Another great conversation with my dear friend Carson has left me pensive this evening. It has also left me hopelessly missing her, among all my other lovelies...who are scattered across the US. It continues to be bittersweet to live in Phoenix, Arizona.

What she quoted - from another wonderful friend of mine - seemed slightly cliche at the time, but has somehow stuck with me for the remainder of my Sunday evening.

People come into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime.

Turns out, the person who had quoted this had just broken up with her boyfriend of over a year. She looked at the relationship and suddenly realized, it wasn't the 'forever' spot this boyfriend was occupying. And so, there was nothing else to do.

When I think of my life today and of the relationships I have, it's interesting to put this idea into play.

Something to ponder, if nothing else...