I’m Not The Sharpest Bulb in the Race

I had the pleasure of going with my new boyfriend to two disparate events on Saturday. (At least, I think he’s my boyfriend; it’s not something that’s been said as much as I think it’s sort of understood at this point.) In any case, the first event was to watch Chris playin a San Francisco Fog rugby game, which was both a lot of fun and absolutely punishing. It was about 40 degrees in the pouring rain and windy as fuck, so by the time the game was over, I was pretty soaked and sniffly. But I still had a great time, if only because I went knowing very little about the game and came away impressed by the athleticism and adrenaline involved. I certainly learned a lot, for sure. No forward passing; touchdowns are called tries; rucks result when a player is tackled; and scrums are used when the ball is contested, such as after a forward pass. And… stuff. I’ll get up to speed quickly; I don’t think the game is complicated, but there’s certainly a lot of nuance. Anyway, it was fascinating and I look forward to seeing more games, though hopefully they won’t be during rainstorms. Chris was splattered in mud afterwards, so we got him home for a shower and I dried my sopping clothes.

Later we went to see a show called Insignificant Others, a musical based on a group of friends from Cleveland that move to San Francisco. It was a lot of fun–the music was good, the performances were a little inconsistent but generally fine, and the whole thing was cute. As the title indicates, it’s pretty insignificant, but it’s a fun trifle and was totally worth the $0 I spent. (Thanks for taking me, Chris!) One of the characters in the show mixes up bits of various popular sayings, hence my blog entry’s title, which was probably my favorite of these mishmashes. Another was “six of one and a baker’s dozen of the other.” I really need a list of these so I can dole them out over the next few weeks.

Actually, I’ve had several recent catchphrases in use lately. The best one I took from the top of a porn mag I saw behind the counter at 7-11. I don’t remember the name of the magazine, but I could clearly see the line at the top of it: “Melt In Your Mouth Chocolate Bitches.” Since then, I’ve been inserting that line into general conversation as often as possible. Suffice it to say, I didn’t pick up a copy for myself. Still, the line is getting old, so I need to pick up something new and improved.

I’m also pleased that we went to a Peruvian restaurant, since I don’t know that I’ve ever had Peruvian food. At least, not knowingly. There’s really no excuse: San Francisco is one of the best restaurant cities in the country, so I really shouldn’t avoid the huge variety of ethnic food here. I had steak with rice, potatoes, and fried plantain, while Chris had a sort of Peruvian stir-fry that included steak, tomatoes, onions, and (of all things) french fries. His place in the Mission neighborhood is near a load of great restaurants of all varieties, and most of them feature Latin or Asian cuisine, so I think it’s time to expand my horizons. Last time, we had chicken at a place called (amazingly) Good Frikkin Chicken, which was a Mediterranean-tinged restaurant. And yeah, that chicken was frikkin good, and appeals to me simply because of its adorable name.

I think what draws me most to Chris is that he is so unlike me, and yet we compliment each other so well. By nature, I’m a pretty emotional and expressive guy, with a tendency to overanalyze things and make mountains out of molehills. By contrast, he’s very reserved; not cold, mind you, because actually he’s one of the most warmhearted people I’ve ever known. He just doesn’t open his heart as quickly as I do. And for some reason, it’s working. We’re having a ton of fun, and I don’t spend time worrying about where I stand, because I just sort of know. And we both understand each other. He knows I am prone to shedding a tear at the oddest of times, and he’s ok with that, and listens and understands. I know that he’s not always going to express his feelings verbally, but I am ok with that, because he shows me how he feels in a lot of ways. I can be myself, and I never feel like I need to be anything different.

Is it love? Yeah. That love thing has brought me plenty of hurt in the past. It’s nice to have it bring comfort instead.

~ by fiddlecub on February 25, 2008.