I know, I know. Two posts in one weekend. What's going on? Well, I'll tell you what's going on. Something has been bugging me for the last four days.

It was while playing shuffleboard in Austin with April that I was reminded how narrow-minded people can be.

April and I were discussing shoes. I don't remember why, exactly. But somehow it came up that I've never worn women's shoes. She was shocked. I've never dressed up as a woman. Although I have worn pantyhose over my head.

The fabulous gay boy we were with said, "Oh I definitely don't see him wearing them."

Excuse me?

He was questioning my gayness. He looked at me like I was a light beer out of a can chugging monster. Like there was no way that I could have seen Rent three times, Phantom of the Opera twice, and Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat starring Donny Osmond. Did I not have enough product in my hair?

He took one look at me and assumed that I liked to bang girls. This despite the fact that my jeans and tee were purchased at a boutique and he was wearing Banana Republic!

It shocks me that in the year 2008 our society would have people this presumptuous. This has never happened to me.

This week I'm busting out the pink shirts.

As Uncle Bracelet pointed out, I am Swedish Hawaiian.

Actually, I'm not. He's a liar.

But I did just return from a nice little vacation in Maui and Kauai.

While I was there, I did me a little scuba diving. Saw lots of turtles, eagle rays, fishies - and didn't vomit underwater this time! Score!

After landing in Chicago I noticed that I was starting to break out. Acne all over - like a twelve year old boy or Mark McGwire. I assumed that it was from the SPF 90 I used to protect my pale skin, or perhaps overuse of hair product.

Now I suspect that it was this. Lovely, eh?

~

I've been in Austin this week and return again next week. I had the pleasure of sipping everclear loaded margaritas with A-lister April on Wednesday night.

Last night? Went out with a goofball coworker, ditched him, then raged solo.

At one of Austin's finest dive bars I took a seat and started chatting up a group of five UT undergrads. They asked where I was from, as my lack of an accent likely gave away that I'm not a local.

"I'm from Hawaii. I'm a pineapple salesman for Dole."

"That's awesome! I love your canned chunks!"

Good God. They believed me.

"What is that drink you're drinking shots of?"

"Jager bombs!"

"Oh, we don't have those in Hawaii."

Next thing I knew I had girls twelve years younger than me buying multiple rounds of shots.

And they gave me a nickname.

Dolemite.

The boy loves sitting on the floor paging through all of his books. As blogged about recently, his vocabulary is growing. He'll point at objects in his books and try to say what they are. All cats, dogs, cows, and balls are immediately identified.

One of his favorite books is a University of Illinois children's book. This morning he opened it up, pointed to a cheerleader and said, "Mama!" Cute, right? He continued to page through the book. Then he said, "Daddy!"

I walked over, took a look at what he was pointing to, and said "Ummm. Thanks, buddy."

I'm apparently the one on the left.



He couldn't have picked a basketball player? Or least a dude?