All About Trey

Life, Travel, Adventure

Filtering by Tag: social life

Etiquette Lessons and the Ghost of Boyfriends Past

Now I'm not Emily Post, but I was raised right as my mom would say. So I know how to behave at formal dinners. Apparently that isn't as common as one would hope.

Last week for work, I ended up having to go to a formal lunch with some dignitaries from France at the Pentagon. The government lead took us up to the Commandant of the Marine Corps private dining room. Now we had a really swanky lunch when we were in Paris, so it was our turn to put on a nice meal. Sans wine of course.

Anyways, the French senior representative noticed that while it says USMC on the plates, it also says Department of the Navy. And one of the senior US guys was trying to explain how the USMC is part of the Department of the Navy. And then one guy goes, "The USMC is a wholly owned subsidiary of the Department of the Navy." Wow, what a great line. I must use that around my USMC friends sometime!

Anyways, the host (seriously senior guy) shows up and we sit down to eat. Now being a slimy contractor, and the youngest person at the table by far, I'm at one end of the table. Across from me is a Navy CDR. So we sit down, and I have a sip of water. Well the servers come out and bring out the soup. And they serve it kind of oddly as I get my soup before the guest of honor, or the host, does. So I sit there patiently. Well, my CDR friend across from me proceeds to dig in to the soup and starts eating. I'm trying to catch his eye to wave him off, but it's too late. Anyways, the soup is finally served to everyone and we start to eat. Sort of a corn chowder with some sausage in it. Very good. Well I'm half way through my soup when the CDR decides that he's done and puts the soup aside and moves his salad on top of his plate and starts to eat the salad. While everyone is still eating soup! Anyways, when the soup is done, the servers take the soup away and then the host pulls the salad to the center of the place setting to start to eat it. Now mind you, since the CDR already ate his salad, the server took away his salad plate and his soup bowl, so he's just sitting there and not really participating in the conversation. Just odd. We have the main course, spinach and feta stuffed chicken. And it was good. Well they bring out the dessert and of course my CDR friend is served first and what does he do? He grabs his spoon and starts to dig in before everyone has their desserts. I'm like, wow, you need to get out more.

That night we flew down to Key West (hey, don't be a hater!) with the French. We worked on Friday and of course at lunch on Friday (a more casual affair) we see then storm clouds building. We go back to our meetings and when we leave for the day, the temp has dropped atleast 30 degrees. Yep, my only free day and it was cold in Key West. I just can't win sometimes.

Leaving the hotel on Sunday, I've got a late check out. I pack all of my bags and head down to the lobby. As I enter the lobby, I see a familiar face. And my first thought is no, it can't be. But I round the corner and it is. It's Norton (obviously not his real name). What are the odds that my former boyfriend (-ish) is staying at the same hotel as me in Key West? We say hello and exchange greetings. It's all very civil. And that's not to imply it was every ugly. After 5 or so months, I asked what we were doing and he said that he wasn't ready for a boyfriend. And I was okay with that, I said I still wanted to be friends. And then I never heard from him again. Which to be honest I thought was a little disappointing. I thought he was better than that. Oh well.

The good news? He didn't really look that great and I on the other hand have dropped 20 pounds and look fabulous! And that's all that really matters, right?

Lesbionic Operas and A Magical Kingdom (ish)

So a couple of weeks ago I went to see Tamerlano at the Kennedy Center. We had seats in the Presidents Box (yes, I *know* people!). Absolutely amazing seats. Plus a little lounge where we quaffed some champs and nibbled on presidential chocolates. And having your own bathroom is essential. Only the little people use the public restroom. Hello Joke!

Anyways, an old Navy friend of mine who works in the White House got the tickets. And Placido Domingo was performing. And he's just amazing. The problem is that the opera was just a little bit weird. So Placido played the old vanquished king. Check. But then the Prince who conquered him and is in love with his daughter is played by a woman. And then the Emperor who controls the Prince is in love with the daughter also, and he's like a super high tenor. So really girly sounding. So the Prince is really a Princess. The Emperor sounds like an Empress. And they are vying for the daughter. So it had a very lesbionic feel to it. But it was an amazing performance and just so much fun.

After that, I skipped down to Orlando to visit the Magic Kingdom. Eh. It was okay. The resort we were at is for conferences so it wasn't really *that* nice. More like a mediocre Holiday Inn. I did go down early to check out Epcot which was good. But I'm really not the target demographic they are going for. It seems like there are three things to do at Disney. Eat, shop, go on the rides. And most of the rides are for the little people. Which were everywhere. Hello people, shouldn't your children be in school! Now I know I've gained some weight (my diet starts after France!), but there were a LOT of people there who were just obese. Yes I know it's a problem throughout America, but it was just so obvious when I was down there. Now, after my bitching, I will say that I didn't see a single freakish tatoo or earing on the employees (aka cast members) or hear a single curse word. Which was refreshingly nice. The conference was just okay. I know a lot of people who come to Disney World every year, but I'm not feeling it right now. Maybe if I went down with someone, and sans conference it would be better.

So, off to Paris tomorrow to visit my sister and the kinder. I'm smuggling a Nintendo DS for my niece and a strange M&M dispenser for my sister. Plus I got my niece and nephew a new DS game for them to play. So I'll be the good Uncle, atleast for the first day!

Compatible Cursing?

So I try not to curse on this blog. Well, too much. I'll say f$%k every once in awhile here, but that's usually it. In real life (you know that stuff that happens when you aren't looking at a computer screen?), I curse a bit. I was in the Navy, so I've got a PhD in cursing, but I don't practice it much. Sure a little f&%k, or sh!t will slip out from time to time, but again, not so much.

And so I'm not really sure how to react when someone curses alot. And weirdly. It just seems odd, and off putting. Seriously, who uses the term, "ho-bag"? I'm not exactly sure what it means, but I get the drift.

So how important is cursing compatibility when you are dating someone? Is it a deal breaker?

Diet Vodka and Circuit Thugs

So Museum Man and I went to Bear Happy Hour on Friday at Cobalt. I'm going for the pirate look as Mom calls it, so I might as well put the scruff to some good use. The weather was amazing so we hung out on the outside patio a bit. I had to teach the oh-so-cute, but oh-so-young bartender how to make a Key West Lemonade. Which were D-licious! But then to thank us for teaching him a new drink, he started charging us almost nothing for our drinks. And that was not a good thing. In addition to the fact that someone needs to come up with a Diet Vodka (and seriously, imagine the BILLIONS you could make with that!), I'm a lightweight. So three drinks later, I'm three sheets to the wind. Go figure. Especially since the lunch I ate so many hours early was quite petite. I really do need to pace myself and maybe mix in some non-alcoholic drinks every once in awhile. Needless to say I was feeling no pain and had a good time. I did manage to finagle a kiss the very hunky, scruffy guy who lives across the street from me. It was just a peck, but still. After a long night that included pulling a Kate Moss (the bulimia, not the drugs), I woke with a huge hangover. Really? Three drinks. Praying to the porcelain god. And I still wake up with a hangover. Ugh! I'm a such a lightweight.

Saturday evening, Museum Man and I ventured out dressed in red to the main Cherry event at the 9:30 club. Yes, I'm in my 40s and going to a circuit party. But I was definitely not the oldest there, or the fattest. So there! Anyways we get there a bit early and nurse some beverages (beers, drunk slowly!) until it starts to get hopping. The music is okay. A couple of good songs, but it was really all about the people watching. Now I'm used to the typical attendees at the circuit party. You've got your regulation twinks (young, thin, usually chemically enhanced for the evening) and then you've got your muscle boys (I'd like a double steriod latte!). And the rest of the melange across the gay community. And for the most part, everyone is in a good mood. Drinking, dancing, letting the music carry them to where ever they want to go. But I think I've seen the first of a new breed of circuit guys: circuit thugs. There were about seven or eight of them, heavily muscled, wearing hip hop type clothes, and the big trucker hats a little to the side (which I thought were so 2006!). But they seemed to walk the crowd with a barely submerged sense or aura of violence, like a roid rage was just an accidental bump away. And of course they were absurdly hot. But I'm not sure it was in a good way.

I think we made it till 3AM, and then called it quits. Cherry was the first circuit party I went to after I cam out and after I had returned from Australia and the huge Mardi Gras party there. It was held at the Post Office Pavillion then and Circuit Mom performed. Well Circuit Mom performed at Cherry as well to Idena Menzel's Gorgeous. And now it's my new favorite song. Enjoy!

Key West Lemonades, Hotties, and Hillary

So I threw a little soirée for Museum Man on Saturday night. A good mix of people, and very fun. But a bit of a larger crowd that I'm used to. MM is definitely an extrovert and he's been making friends here quite quickly, so he invited quite a few people plus I had my usual gang of suspects. So Saturday afternoon I'm running around trying to get everything ready and I know I need to make a liquor run. Well I do a quick inventory and I figure I need some vodka. Absolut Ruby Red to be precise so I can make some Key West Lemonades for the party. So I buy a couple of bottles. I also buy some beer. Like 2 twelve packs. Well my friends arrive and I get two additional bottles.
And people are drinking and it's all good. Except that only one person had a SINGLE beer. In the meantime, we are chugging down the vodka. We went through 6 bottles. The gays do love their vodka. I think I need to invite some of the straight guys from my company for a party so they can drink the beer. Otherwise it will just sit there in my fridge.

Well, as I mentioned, MM has been meeting some new people in town. Well he actually ran into an old friend, a USNA alumni who lives in the g-hood. So he invited him to the party. Now, I like to think of my friends as relatively good looking. We're in pretty decent shape, smartly dressed if not necessarily label queens. We've got normal jobs and live normal lives and I like to think we are on the right side of the bell curve when it comes to looks in DC. Anyways, MM's friend shows up, with another friend, and we are talking serious hotties. Like porn star hot. MM's friend (H1) had biceps the size of a cantaloupe! And you know I'm a sucker for biceps. Trim, with some good salt and pepper hair, just overally yummy. And his friend (H2) was even more hot. Brazilian. Chest like you wouldn't believe, even bigger biceps. And of course both are dressed in the gay uniform: ultra tight black t-shirt that accentuates the chest and biceps, and really tight jeans. To be honest, it was a little depressing to see all of that hotness up close and in my apartment. I'll start my diet tomorrow. Despite their exceptional good looks, they were actually pretty nice. Who knows, maybe I'll run into them again some day.

Hillary. What do you do with a problem like Hillary? Well I actually went to her website and asked her to post her tax returns!! But I digress. So I'm blog surfing during lunch and I find this little bit of trivia:

"Among the debts reported this month by Hillary Rodham Clinton’s struggling presidential campaign, the $292,000 in unpaid health insurance premiums for her campaign staff stands out."

Um. . . . . . Ouch!

And speaking of ouch: Slate (which I need to read more often) has started it's Hillary Deathwatch meter. It's actually the deathwatch of her campaign. But still it's funny. Or would be if it weren't so true.

It's not you, it's me.

Really. It should be fun. A large crowd of gay men, in various shapes and sizes, some good music, a little liquor to get the party started. It has all of the makings of a good time.

But it started off all wrong and went downhill from there. I purposely waited until about 11PM to head over to Blow Off. I'm always early, and I hate that. But then I arrive only to find out that there was a concert that night and the doors opened at 1130. So I made my way downstairs to the back bar, got a beer, and then instead of trying to talk to anyone, I read blogs on my cell phone. Yes, I'm pathetic. But we knew that, right?

After 15 or so minutes, they open the upstairs and I walk into the main room and Bob has clips of "The Birds" showing to the music which was actually kind of cool. I had caught a bit of it earlier when I was channel surfing, so it just kind of cool. The music as good, but now the main room seems empty. As the crowd makes it's way in, I stand at the back, leaning against a wall checking out the people. It really is an interesting mix of guys. Clean cut military types, the facial hair crowd (who may or may not be bears), the twinks, and even a trio of lesbians who started dirty dancing almost immediately. And then there's me.

I wander a bit, watching people. I see someone I know. I go over and say hello. But they are with someone else and I don't want to intrude. I see the usual homo blogeratti. I get a second beer. The music is good. The crowd is shifting, not quite dancing, but now it's crowded. And I'm feeling particularly alone. I fall into this weird headspace where I question why I'm here. What's my goal. Is it to dance? Then I need to stay longer. But what's the point? If I do end up dancing, it will be by myself. I won't meet anyone. The music is good, but I don't know much of it. And then the DC equivalent of the Chelsea crowd starts to take their shirts off. Ugh. I did NOT need that. If it had been a group of bears, then I could have handled it, but that much perfection is just annoying.

And I start to edge my way to the door. People are streaming in from outside and the main room is going from crowded to packed. And it's not that I'm claustrophobic, but at some point it becomes a bit overwhelming. I lean against the door fighting the urge to flee, arguing with myself that I don't get out much. That I need to make more of an effort. But as more and more guys go by, I start to feel . . . . I don't know. Like I shouldn't be there. And so I retreat.

But to add to my many mistakes, I go to a late night diner near my house and get something to eat at like 1 in the morning. Nothing like eating your emotions. And why am I fat again?

Really, it's not you, it's me.

Life Goes On . . .

Anyways, I'm trying to get back into a normal schedule for my life. I still couldn't drag my big fat butt out of bed this AM to go to the gym, so I paid my penance this afternoon. Bike for 30 minutes (while reading Harry Potter #3) and then lifting (biceps and back).

And I'm *trying* to do the five meals a day thing. 8AM: Oatmeal. 1030ish: Broccoli with cheese. 1PM: Lean Cuisine. 4:30ish: Nectarine. 7PM: Salad with cheese and meat. And I'm enjoying a Fresca for dessert. My goal is to try to do that all week. We'll see if I can make it.

So I interviewed one of the Borg today. Nice enough guy, but not the right fit for the position I have open. But what kills me is just the lack of interview skills he had. He gave very short answers. He acted like he didn't even want to be there. And when I asked him if he had any questions (since I was frustrated trying to get info out of him), he pretty much said no.

That is not the right answer. If someone isn't obviously trying to get you out of their office and asks you if you have any questions, here are some starter questions. Please feel free to use them:
- How long have you been at (insert company name). (speaks to longevity, career progression, company stability, etc)
- What do you like best about working at (insert company name). (give insight into future boss or co-worker, also says something about the company)
- What do you like worst about working at (insert company name). (this is even more important: will the interviewer be honest, or actually talk about the downsides of the company?)

And then use the answers to those questions to try to sell yourself. "Oh, you've been here for 7 years? That's great, I'm really looking for a company where I can dig in and really invest my time and energy in making it a success in the long run."

This really isn't that difficult, but it's really surprising how many bad interviews I've had.

Tomorrow night is the First Tuesday Happy Hour at Nellies, so I hope to make that. I'll have to adjust my work out schedule. And NO alcohol. But I'll be there. And then Wednesday I'm going to hear Bishop Chane speak about the HoB meeting in New Orleans. Should be interesting.

Oh and I must quote Sean: "turning one’s faith into a conquest meme is gaudy at best and at their worst the exact opposite of what I feel Christianity should be." What a great line. And I whole heartedly concur.

Seduce and Destroy

and then self destruct. But I'll get to that in a minute.

So last night Greekboi and I went to go see "Underwater". It's tag line? "Organic electronic sound and visual performance that takes you out of ordinary." Now skipping the whole "organix electronic" oxymoron, it did sound rather intriguing. So we got tickets and went.

It was in an unfinished space in the bottom of one of the new buildings on 14th St, just folding chairs, with lights and projectors. We got there a bit early so we got pretty good seats. The whole performance was interesting and good. Some of the music was a bit odd, but thats to be expected I think. In addition to the electric organ, they had a violen, sax, and some drums. One of the pieces was a take off of James Bond and they took some license with the theme music. During the music, there was a visual component showing on the screens mixing spy type icons with photos of DC. "Seduce and Destroy" was one of the lines they used. It was cool.

After the show, I proceeded to self destruct. Well, I ate a big lunch, and no dinner. Had a beer at the show, then we went to the ultra-hip lounge where I had not one, but two cosmos. So now I'm flying. And if I have any hope of going to Blow Off, I need to eat. So I go to Stoneys and get something greasy and bad for me. I take it home to eat, then catch a cab to Blow Off. I arrive around midnight, and it's not really that crowded and no one's dancing. Which annoys me. Now mind you, I'm slight inebriated at this point, and full from eating that greasy sandwich. So what should I do? A vodka and redbull. Oy vey, what a mistake. I don't last long at Blow Off and finally head home. It was not a good ending to the night at all.

Oh well. Andrew had this funny clip for Mother's Day, and when I looked at some of the other clips from these guys I found this. So smooth!

Five Pounds

Between fasting yesterday and the "system flush" I had to do in preparation for this, I lost five pounds. Probably not the best, or most fun, way to lose weight. But I'll take what I can get. I ended up metro-ing and then cabbing to the hospital this AM, jamming to my new iPod, and then spent some quality time just waiting. Unlike my previous experience doing this, I was supposed to get drugs this time. And supposedly they did give them to me, but I still felt everything. And I mean everything. It was sort of like this:

Okay, maybe not that bad. ;-)

So my professional life and my personal life are pretty compartmentalized. When I'm at work, I'm busy doing work stuff and I rarely think about personal stuff. I've never fantasized about someone at work, or anything like that. It's all professional. But I was at a meeting yesterday at another company and this guy walked in and I'm like, Day-um! He's hot in that business man kind of way. Good build. Nice blond hair (and I'm usually attracted to guys with dark hair). Nice arms. It was ALL working for me. And of course he sat down next to me and I really had a hard time not staring. Okay, I stared at him a bit. And the funny thing? He's got a total porn star name. I did see that he wasn't wearing a ring. But that could mean a lot of things. Anyways, I'd love to figure out a way to find out if he's gay, but that's not something I can just throw out there.

Vocabulary and words. In my line of work, we all speak DoD-ese. If you aren't comfortable with acronyms, and acronyms of acronyms, you're not going to survive long. And I love that each industry and field has their own lingo. When I was down in SoBe with SuperLawyer I learned about "medmal" and "dramshop". Anyways, there's an alcoholic company that I work with a lot that uses the term "thought leadership" and that term makes me want to get violent. Like clockwork orange violent. This term gets bandied about like it's a good thing when what it really means is that you're trying to brainwash someone (usually the government). Now every company has an agenda, and I understand that, but to be so open and brazen about your intentions just kills me. How about this, how about just bring up a good idea with the facts and technology to support it. I don't know. They are consultants, so maybe that's their job. But I actually want to get something done, and all of the time and energy spent on "thought leadership" makes me want to puke.

Whew! Glad I got that off my chest. ;-)

I haven't ranted about the Anglican Community later and the ultimatim in Tanzania. I'm still thinking about it. I'll probably post about that soon.