Take a run at the sun...

Well, the boys went down to Palm Springs over Memorial Day weekend and saw firsthand the legacy I left behind in the '50s, '60s, and '70s. I was glad they made the pilgrimage, since Jim had never been and Jason hadn't been for over eight years. They worked on their tans (at least Jason did) and partied down with friends, even crashing a plastic L.A. pretty boy party which left them emotionally scarred.

Now that they've got friends living there, I'm sure they'll visit more often. Heck, with the cheap real estate prices there, they might even snatch up a little place for weekend getaways. I'd certainly like that, laying out in the sun with some cocoa butter and a highball.

Speaking of laying out in the sun, that's just what Jason and I are doing this weekend, since Jim's off in New York visiting old college friends and soaking up some humidity with his dry humor. It's been nice relaxing with Jim and Jason now that Jason's crazy time at work has slowed down. Of course, Jim's work schedule is ramping up now. Sometimes it's like we just can't win and have both of the boys relaxing at the same time.

Sigh.

At least July 4th should be a nice weekend. Unless of course some crazy parties happen, in which case I'll be hiding under the bed. Or just maybe I'll come out and pour the champagne myself!

It's a cruel, cruel summer...

Whaddup, bitches? I know I've been flying under the radar for a while now, but a whole lot's been happening. In March, Jason turned the big 3-5 and the three of us had to celebrate with lots of drinking. Part of it was to make up for all the work Jason had to deal with at work (just the opposite for Jim, whose office has been flowing like molasses.)

At the start of April, they went to New York again to visit friends and have some more fun:

And then Jason got cast in a new movie based on the novel by man with his same birthday, Jack Kerouac. It was all going so well until he had to go to the ER...

Jason's nose wouldn't stop bleeding for over four hours, and Jim and I were worried. The doctors in the hospital tried just about everything and found the oldest solution worked best: cocaine soaked in gauze, shoved up the nose.

(Umm, I did say Jason had the same birthday as Jack Kerouac, right? Jack, as well as Liza Minelli and James Taylor and a lesser Jackson brother. Basically, he's destined for rehab soon...)

Anyhow, one of the earlier treatments (which didn't work) was chemical cauterization, which left horrible black scarring around his face. We were all traumatized--and Jason was freaking out 'cause he had to shoot this movie the next week! Luckily, it all came peeling off in a few days and Jason made it to Carmel and Big Sur just fine. He made some new friends and found a new watering hole, Flanagan's Irish Pub.

Jim and I wish we could have been there, but alas we were stuck here at home while Jason hobnobbed with the stars.

Anyhow, Jim recently celebrated his birthday a few weeks ago and to make up for working (filming) during the month, Jason's taking him to Palm Springs. I'm going to stay behind and make sure everything's taken care of at home. I mean, I've done the White Party this year already--why go back?

Right?

It's definitely not a Nashville party...

That's right, bitches. Another month has gone by, and Jason had to turn the big 3-5. We all partied like it was 1999 2011, all right. Some friends had a large dinner party at Trader Vic's (just a coincidence) so Jason and Jim went and had a good time. It really says something that Jason didn't make a bigger fuss about his birthday this year. Instead, he got his IRA going again and opened a high-interest savings account.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

Well, this week we're all going to New York, where we'll party it up with some old friends and be whores tourists, checking out a few bars museums and such. Our good friend Abby won't be there, unfortunately, so we won't have as much of a fun East Village experience this time. But it will still be all fun all the time, with no auditions for Jason and no rushed schedules or morning commutes for either of the Runnicles. Jason and Jim's supermodel pal Irena will take 'em around on a more fashionable tour of the city, that's for sure!

I'll be there, too. But I've got my own agenda. Holly G., bust out yer Rolodex. We are gonna party like it's 1969.

You can never surrender

Well February's over. Another month down, another one bites the dust. As some of you know, Jason went off to NYC again last week for a big audition. He was flown in by the producers and got to hang with some of his friends again for a day and a half before flying right back home. Sadly, he didn't make it to the finals (which we all presumed was the show itself) but we're all kind of relieved--Jim and I couldn't imagine being without Jason for up to two whole months! The same day he got the news that he didn't get on the show, Jason busted out a can o' whupass and started to own things at Ye Olde Dayjobbe instead. And now things are looking up.

I think by next year he'll be ready to teach a certain cable network a few things...

Other than that, things have been pretty quiet around here, especially for Jim. I guess it's been a good month to get some reading done. The boys have also been trying to cut down on the carbs and up the cardio lately in attempts to get ready for beach season. It's been comical, especially since the Girls Scouts have come back recently to ply their tasty treats on us all.

They've turned to comic geniuses Tim and Eric for inspiration:

A Design For Life...

Well I'm a little late, but Happy New Year, b*tches! As 2010 came to an end, things for Jason, Jim an' me ramped up considerably. Jason not only auditioned for a TV show, but he also got cast in a funny commercial for HP (I made a few calls to my pals the Weinsteins) and Jim had some of his work published in an anthology (which immediately sold out of its first printing) and did a reading up in Petaluma.

How's that for a way to end the year?

I did some work, too. Mostly helping this fat white man dress up in a red costume and fly around on a magic sled, delivering toys and presents to people around the world. That's right, I bring joy to the world.

If Christmas was crazy-busy with friends and family and celebrating (visits to Modesto, visits to friends in nursing homes, the annual Christmas Eve dinner with the Jews), New Year's Eve was a quiet affair. The three of us stayed home and drank wine and played Scrabble. (Sometimes I wish Dick Clark would take a cue from me and just retire...)

Even though the year was technically winding down, for the three of us things were really taking off: Jason was getting busier at Ye Olde Dayjobbe (no rest during the holidays over there), and Jim stayed home for a week to get his own work done. I guess we needed a quiet New Year's Eve to prepare for a busy 2011. This month has Jason running around trying to finish a rush project at work, and Jim's been dealing with some changes at his office too. I started my North Beach writers' group again, so now I have to wake up early and zip across the city twice a week on my Vespa. (Wait, did I just say Dick Clark should retire like me? Whoops, I spoke too soon. Again.)

It never ends, I tell ya. It never ends...

Alright, 2011. We're ready for ya.

I'm in a New York state of mind...

Wow, I just realized I missed the whole month of November! Oh how time flies around the holidays...

I guess the big news of November was Jim and Jason going on a somewhat impromptu trip to the Big Apple. Jason went to help two of his Drinking Ladies alumni deal with their New York single gal apartments (or "maxi-pads" as they refer to 'em.) Four days of trolling every thrift store in lower Manhattan, hitting the Brooklyn Flea Market, and drinking in just about every gay bar in Chelsea, the West Village, and the East Village.

I'm proud of my boys.

Luckily they had a good tour guide in the form of a certain Ms. Abby Featherstone. I set things up for her a while ago when she found her current apartment just down the street from my "Bad Pussies" mural at 3rd & Avenue B (see above.) Now her entire world of work/living/eating/drinking all takes place in a 10 minute radius of the East Village, thanks to my handiwork. During this trip she help me plant the New York bug into Jim and Jason...

(Of course I'm just talking figuratively...J&J were vigilant against the bedbugs and made sure they never came in contact with the vermin.)

Thanksgiving turned into a blessing and a curse. More Drinking Ladies and their families came to our home for lots of good food and wine and the night of the event was full of laughter and charades and good times. But sometime during the day, Jason must've eaten something bad 'cause by Friday he ended up with the worst case of food poisoning/stomach flu ever. He basically lost the entire weekend, and Jim and I did all we could to help him recover from his fever and nausea.

This month we're just hanging on to each other, trying to get through the rest of the year. I'll keep y'all posted on what happens!

When you were young and your heart was like an open book, you used to say, "Live and let live..."

Whoa--Jason just reminded me that October is nearly over and that I haven't updated y'all on the Runnicles yet this month.

Well, what to say? We've been busy. This whole month has been full of all sorts of social events every weekend: The Castro Street Fair, Aimee Mann at Yoshi's, our friend Sylvia's annual Hula show at the Palace of Fine Arts, The Trashcan Sinatras, Jason's little cousin's birthday party at Bruno's, and a spooky Halloween party at the historic Haas-Lilienthal Mansion.

For those of you who know Jason and Jim, this is uncommon. They are not social butterflies. But when the occasion rises, they can party just as hard as Pierre and Maggie Trudeau at Studio 54. (Boy, those were the days. Halston and I would hang out in a corner booth while the waiters would pour us champagne funneled through their abs. Good times.)

In addition to all this, Jason's been busy as hell with his Retrograde work, going up to Sacramento to finish up a family home as well as wrapping up another single gal's maxi-pad. Last night was the first weekend night he and Jim and I had together at home all month, so we got some fried chicken to-go from Home and watched the Project Runway finale. Ah, simple pleasures...

Jason's been working really hard with his side business. He's tired enough after the day job, but I tell him that he's got to stick with it if he wants to succeed. I mean, I was hanging out with David Hicks and Yves Saint Laurent back in the day in Marrakech, burning the candle at both ends with my writings on design. I wanted to be successful and get my book published, so I didn't take a break until Keith Richards showed up one day and slipped me some powerful recreational substances. Before I knew it, I had slept through the rest of the '70s and woke up in a club somewhere in the '80s doing coke off of Grace Jone's gleaming black a**. Needless to say, my book was lost.

So I guess the big lesson is to work hard in your creative endeavors, and stay the f*** away from Keith Richards if he offers you anything.

Jim, on the other hand, is also ending the month with some good news. He's going to be published in the Santa Fe Review soon! As for my advice to him...I'd just say don't spend too much time in Interzone.