Because a little loyalty goes a long way.

My letter to United. And I was so pissed when I was on the phone that I actually started to tremble.

19 May 2005

United Airline Customer Relations
P.O. Box 66100
Chicago, IL 60666

Dear Sir/Ma’am,

I have been a United customer and Mileage Plus member for almost eighteen years. I’ve always had a good experience with United and United Mileage Plus, but I am writing to you today to let you know that I am very unhappy with a recent experience with United and United Mileage Plus.

“Because a little loyalty goes a long way.” That’s the tag line on your website for the Around the World promotion for flyers out of the Washington DC area. I participated in that promotion and earned 8 credits. Today I decided to redeem those credits for the free round trip I had earned. I went to your website and that’s where I made a mistake. I hit the button to redeem 4 credits which is only one regional domestic ticket. I wasn’t sure what “regional domestic” meant, but thought I could use it go to go Colorado to visit my parents. And then I really made a mistake by confirming what I wanted, without ever know that a “regional domestic” ticket meant a ticket good for destinations within 800 miles. That’s not enough for Colorado. When I found that out, I contacted United Mileage Plus via phone to see if I could fix it. The lady who helped me was very nice, but very firm in telling me that I had made the mistake and there was nothing she could do about it. And there was nothing I could do about it either. I couldn’t send the redemption back, get the 4 credits back, and then get the 8 credit award ticket. I couldn’t even redeem the other 4 credit award and then combine the two 4 credit awards for one 8 credit domestic round trip ticket. Four plus four didn’t equal eight. Dumbfounded, I asked for customer relations. I called customer relations and another nice lady listened to my problem and confirmed that there was nothing she could do either. She did offer to send me a discount for a future flight, but a $150 off is not the same as a domestic round trip ticket.

“Because a little loyalty goes a long way.” That’s what the promotion said. I make a point to fly United whenever I can. That’s loyalty. When I tried to redeem the award that I had earned, I couldn’t because of a simple mistake and an unyielding and unsympathetic system. That’s not what loyalty’s about. Now I’m not sure I’ll be making that much of an effort to fly United in the future.

Sincerely,

Bitter and mad customer (actually my real name).

Happy Anniversary!!!!

A year ago today, hundred (maybe thousands) of gay and lesbians were finally allowed to legally marry in Massachusetts. The world didn't end, the US was not attacked by terrorists, heterosexual marriages are still as strong (or weak) as they ever were an cats and dogs are not living together.

In honor of this great fact, here's something I wrote pre-blog:

NEW CELEBRITY GAY MARRIAGE SHOCKS NATION!

The Rosie O’Donnell wedding? Big deal. The National Tattler has found out that a major celebrity gay wedding is planned for the July 4^th weekend and it is set to re-ignite the culture wars like never before. Later this summer after gay marriages become legal in Massachusetts, celebrity action figures GI Joe and Ken will be married in an extravagant wedding planned in the gay summer mecca of Provincetown. When contacted by the National Tattler, GI Joe confirmed the wedding by saying, “I’m going to take the beach, and then take my man to the altar.”

Earlier this year, a spokesman from Mattel, Barbie’s management company, announced the split between Barbie and her long time boyfriend. But despite the announcement of an amicable split, our sources tell us it was anything but. “She wanted the ring,” says Teresa, Barbie’s beach friend. “She wanted to get married. She had the dream house, the beach house, the cool cars, the clothes, jewelry, she even had the wedding gown all picked out, you name it, but what she didn’t have was a husband.”

“And when she found out about Joe, she was mad. Rip the evening gown, throw the tiara mad,” Teresa says. “I suspected something was going wrong a while ago. First of all, they never had sex. They’ve been dating for thirty years, and they never did it? That should have been Barbie’s first clue. I’m all for waiting until you’re married, but that’s a bit insane. Then there were the tea dances. Barbie has a standing tea party at her dream home every Sunday afternoon. Ken used to go. He used to love it. He really got into the different teas, the crumpets, the cucumber sandwiches. But then he got on this Atkins kick. “No carbs after noon” he would joke. And then he stopped going. He said he was going to “tea dances” instead with some of his friends. Barbie wanted to go, but somehow he convinced her she wouldn’t like it.” There was no comment from Barbie or her spokesperson from Mattell.

“I think this is a proud moment for all gay and lesbian action figures,” said Parker Johnson, the spokesman from the Action Figure Defense League. “For far too long, action figures have had to hide their sexual orientation to fit into mainstream society. Isn’t it bad enough that we’re not anatomically correct?” Parker said bitterly. “GI Joe is a national war hero and it’s only fitting that he lead the charge for equal rights for gay and lesbian action figures.” Gays and lesbians make up approximately 10% of the human population, but numbers for the action figure population are not known. “Oh it’s higher, much higher,” said Parker. “Think about all of the hyper-masculine, big muscle famous action figures, in tights and rubber costumes. They are all muscle mary’s,” claimed Parker. “They are just over-compensating to hide their sexual orientation. I hope this wedding opens America’s eyes and lets other gay action figures feel comfortable about coming out of the closet.”

But this new gay wedding has re-ignited the culture war. Leading conservatives quickly denounced the upcoming nuptials and are calling for the dishonorable discharge of GI Joe under the Department of Defense’s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy. “This is another attempt by the gay and lesbian community to subvert America’s children,” said Anne Koulter. “GI Joe should be ashamed and should be immediately discharged from the Army.” A DOD spokesman said that the Army was looking into the situation. Parker Johnson, in response to these inquiries, responded saying, “The Army can’t kick him out. He’s no longer on active duty. Their silly rules no longer apply to him. He’s always in uniform because it looks good on him, it really emphasizes his chest and arms, but he’s out of the Army.”

Right wing Christian conservatives are also up in arms. “This is a national crisis,” claimed Pat Richardson of the Christans Only Coalition on his daily television show. “This is another sign of the moral decay of our great society. Our little children are being indoctrinated by these gay action figures. What kind of adult will these children grow up to be? What morals will they have? Leave it to the gays to force their unnatural sexual practices on young children, isn’t that what priests are for?” Pat Richardson’s comments on his television show have led to action figures being kicked out of homes or burned alive. Some parents are claiming that the fumes of the burning action figures are giving them headaches. Parker Johnson responded saying, “Pat Richardson’s comments are completely irresponsible and hurtful to all action figures, gay and straight alike. Even now action figures are being threatened and killed. What part of the “Love Thy Neighbor” doesn’t Pat understand? I personally find the continual references to gay sex as a means to rile up the Christian conservative base and frighten mainstream America offensive and just plain stupid. This isn’t about sex, gay or straight. Action figures are not anatomically correct. So if Pat Richardson thinks it’s all about gay sex, then he must have gay sex on the brain. It’s all about love. GI Joe loves Ken. And I think that scares Pat”.

Amid all of the media frenzy, Provincetown is gearing up for the wedding. “We were hoping Ben and Matt would come here to get married, but this is much better, much bigger,” said Julian Smythe, owner of the Prince Albert Guest House on Commercial Street in Provincetown. The GI Joe and Ken wedding will take place during the height of the annual circuit party called “Summer Camp” when this small New England town is overrun with hot gay men. “Oh it’s going to throw a wrench into every circuit boi’s plans,” claimed Tom, a close friend to GI Joe. “Invitations to the wedding are the hottest item in the country,” claims Tom, originally a native of Finland, but who now lives in San Francisco. “I almost feel sorry for those boi’s lucky enough to get a invitation. I mean, what will they wear? The circuit party uniform is baggy shorts and no shirt (hot pants are so last year). But gay men never have an informal wedding. It’s going to be over-the-top glamour, black tie, flowers everywhere, maybe an ice sculpture of David. Personally I think Joe wants more of a low key wedding, but he’s whipped by Ken. He’ll be in his dress uniform if Ken gets his way.”

With the proposed constitutional amendment to ban gay marriages and the recent gay weddings in various locations around the United States, the wedding of GI Joe and Ken will certainly be a media circus. Pick up next week’s National Tattler to get more dirt on the GI Joe-Ken wedding.

Discipline (and lack there of)

I was raised in a fairly strict household. Dad was an office in the Army. We lived in the south. It was always "Yes, sir" and "No, Ma'am." Then I went to the Naval Academy. A little bit more discipline there too. Then the Navy for 11 years. So do you see the trend? But it's weird, I've got lots of discipline in some parts of my life, but not in others.

Discipline. If it's work related, I'm pretty strict with myself. Work late, work on weekends, get the job done no matter the costs. If it's money related, I'm fairly strict. I don't go on shopping binges, I put money away every month. Stuff like that.

But if it's personal stuff, I have no discipline. I've never been able to control what I eat. I try. I really do, but I need to work late so I end up drink full strength Cokes and eating bad food. See one form of discipline overrides the other.

So I set a goal for myself to loose some weight by Memorial Day, and it's not going to happen. Usually I have arranged some sort of trip or something as incentive to loose the weight. And then when the date arrives and I haven't lost the weight, I still end up going becuase it's all been arranged.

However, this time is different. I have not lost the weight I wanted to loose, so I decided to cancel my trip to Chicago for Memorial Day. I ended up "eating" the one night in the hotel as part of the cancellation fee. Oh well. So no IML for me this year. No hunky men in leather. Yes I'm bummed, but maybe it will give me some incentive. I've already paid for the trip to Ptown in July and I must lose weight by then. Even if I am going for bear week.

Okay, so I'm not going to IML for Memorial Day. So should I shave off the beard/goatee? That is the question.

Bob the Builder??

Okay, I spent some "quality" time in the office this weekend. Yes, I know. Wow, what a shocker. There's actually a couple of fairly decent reasons. I ended up going to this conference this week and with the trip to Charleston the week before and then last weekend's crazy schedule I was soooo far behind. The conference I went to was for work, so the usual power geeks and business development/snack oil salemen. I ended up talking to one guy and I walked away feeling like I had gotten slimed. The best part of the conference was this speech by a guy who used to work in the DoD Office of Transformation. It was a really good mix of international relations, national security, and information technology. Just fascinating. And it got me thinking about that Masters I have collecting dust. It would really be cool to do something with my masters. I ended up buying his book (and the new New Order CD!) and I want to start to read it in all of my [sarcasm] spare [/sarcasm] time.

The other reason I went into the office is because I had a fair number of people working this weekend on the latest release. So I felt guilty about them working, so I came into the office even though I could do most of the work from home. Usually going into the office is better since I don't surf that much at work and I can usually focus. But not this weekend. I ended up spending too much time cleaning up my office. I ended up just junking reams and reams of paper. So much old crap I've collected in my nearly 4 years (and 5th office) at my company. Going through some of the various folders and piles of paper, I found old medical claims, minutes for old, old meetsin, copies of my security clearance info, and a "Bob the Builder" coloring book. What the f&^k? I have no idea what that was doing there. But I'm going to bring it home and take it to Charlotte when I go out to LA for the 4th of July.

Flavor of the Week? Cherry!

Another bizzarro weekend, but in a different way.

I spent Friday night in, just recuperating and relaxing from my trip to Charleston last week.

On Saturday, after the gym, I met up with some gay USNA alumni for a brunch in Dupont. Some of them were new faces, some of them old friends from our trip to Annapolis last fall or my trip to San Francisco in January. One of them was a guy I had known while on active duty, then seen again in Sydney Australia after I had gotten out, and then seen again a couple of years ago in Rosslyn. Talk about random meetings. Just too weird. As usual, the stories from our lives were familiar, and yet different, and ranged from those who had been forced out of the Academy, to those who had served for 20 years. The meeting was a little bitter sweet as the Alumni Association Board of Trustees failed to address the non-discrmination clause that we had proposed. They claim they want to support diversity, well here was your chance. And it got stalled in the governance committee.

Saturday night was the Service Member's Legal Defense Network National "End the Witchhunt" Dinner. A group of us went and it was a really special night. I saw some of the A-list gays (hate them!) plus some other people I knew of. SLDN does really good work and while I think we are a long way off from repealing "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" I think we need to keep up the good fight. Former Ambassador Carol Mossley Braun gave the keynote speech and it was awesome. The dinner was fun, but the speeches were a bit too long. After dinner, J. and I raced back to my place to do a uniform change.

Cherry is the big circuit party for DC. So after swapping the tux for some shorts and a t-shirt, we headed to the Andrew Mellon Auditorium down on Constitution Ave. The big *news* is that the GSA (which runs that space since it's in a government building) decided to relent and allow the users (which would be all of the hot gay men) to dance with their shirts off. Hello, how can you have a circuit party without hot shirtless men? The space was amazing, the lighting was great, the crowd was okay (more on that later), and the music was okay. Was there a single word sung during the 3 plus hours we were there? No. It was all "bottles and pans" type music. Great if you are dancing in a "manufactured joy" haze, otherwise not so much. The crowd was definitely in interesting mix. I think I did see three lesbians and may half a dozen straight women. The men ranged from supernova "hot" to "damn it's cold can you put your shirt back on please." But I'd say it was mainly the warm side of the scale. After the "main" event, we went to an after hours party at Platinum where the music was better, the men were hotter, and we just had a good time. Until about 4AM which is when my red bull wore off and my feet were killing me and I realized it was time to go.

Men. Circuit men are, for the most part, very good looking. After another chance to observe them in their natural habitat (which involves lots of dark spaces, black lighting, smoke, fog, and lights that flash to the beat of the music), I've determined that there are two basic species. There's the homo maximus. He's huge. As in "I'd like a double steriod latte please." Which, of course, is a look I like. J. called me an "arm whore" since I'm attracted to guys with big biceps. Guilty as charged. The homo maximus generally tend to stick to their own. They dance (if you want to call their odd body movements, hindered by over developed muscles, dancing) in groups. Their drug of choice is X or maybe GHB. The other species is homo minimus. He's skinny. He's got the lean, cut look down pat. Old jewish women see him and cry as they try to push food at him. He loves his coke and tina. Tina lets him dance, not for hours, but for days. And who needs food when you've got music to feed your soul. Or something like that. Homo minimus goes into their dance haze and they will dance with anyone or anything. I saw one dancing with a mirror. They looked good. The problem is that eventually they get that really skinny, gaunt look and then that's when they get cut from the herd.

Sunday AM, J and I hit Kripy Kreme (hmmm, doooonnnnuuuttts!) and then had lunch. Then we decided to hit the T dance. The funny thing about the T-dance was that it was so odd to be dancing in a small dark crowded room and look out the window and see the sunny sky out there. I would have preferred an outdoor tea dance a la Ptown. But I will say the music was the best we heard all weekend and there were several homo maximus's who I had seen the night before looking all hot and bothered, plus some homo-minimus's who haven't stopped dancing since Friday night. And there was me, sober and just dancing away.

Situational Awareness

Situational Awareness is the new buzzword in the Department of Defense. It's all about knowing what is going on around you. Pulling in the data from various sensors, reports, etc and then use that information to help you engage then enemy.

In today's society, situational awareness is also an every day survival tool. Bad things can happen to good people at almost any time and to protect yourself you need to know where you are, what's going on around you, potential threats, potential escape routes, etc.

I've traveled around the world, to some not very friendly places, and it's just become second nature to me. Walking in a crowded souk in Oman, or down a dark street in Russia, you just need to be aware of your surroundings.

Chris Crain is the editor of the Washington Blade and he was recently gay-bashed in Amsterdam. Yes Amsterdam. A very friendly city, a very gay friendly city. During Queen's Weekend which is a big gay holiday. But he was attacked not be a Dutch citizen, but by a group of North African, presumably Muslim, immigrants. So even in a presumbably safe environment, bad things can happen.

So after looking at the pic of Chris, do I feel different about my little bit of bravado last weekend? I'm not sure. I still think standing up for myself was important. And it was 1030 on a Saturday morning in front of Whole Foods. There were plenty of people around and it was just one guy. So on balance I'd say I was pretty safe. The bad thing is that one knife, or gun, could have made the situation completely different. That's what scary.

Whole Foods = Weird Freaks?

I live around the corner from Whole Foods and I love it. It's such a great store and I go there way to much. Seriously, way to much. The Whole Foods (WF) on P Street has often been cited as one of the catalysts for the rejuvenation of the east Dupont-Logan area. Five years ago, this neighborhood was a mess. But you plop a Whole Foods in and all of a sudden the gays are there, the Embassy staff, the yuppies, etc. It really was responsible for turning the neighborhood around. And that's not to say that there still isn't a little bit of "transition" going on. There are still a bunch of old time shops and stores that look pretty ratty. And the day workers hang out in front of the old Duron store that's going to be replaced by new condos. So the folk who go into Whole Foods really run the whole gamut of society and that's one of the things I love about it. Usually. This weekend? Not so much.


Saturday AM. I'm pumped from my session with the person trainer. It's a bit rainy and I've got a rain slicker on and I've got my MP3 player going and just good with the world. I stop into WF to get a post workout protein fix. I grab some food and as I'm heading back out to the street, I hear very clearly over the music in my headphone. "FAGGOT." Again, my music is not that loud and I know what I heard. So I turn around to the scraggly, kind of scarey black man behind me, "Excuse me, what did you say?" Probably a little bit loud since my headphones are still in. "I didn't say nothin'" he says. "Yes you did. I heard you say Faggot." "I wasn't TALKIN to you," he snarls. "Well then who were you talking to?" I snarl back. The endorphins from the gym are finally kicking in and I'm just a little bit pissed off here. "None of your God Damn business" he yells at me. "Then I suggest you keep your comments to yourself," I say loudly back to him. "Oh, and have a nice day." And with that I turn and walk away. Okay, first of all do not even try to pull that crap on me. I can kick your ass even after being punished and abused by my trainer. Second of all, it's f&%king 1030 Saturday AM. Who do you think is going to be at Whole Foods at that hour? Local crackheards? Keep you bigotted comments to yourself or nextime if will be some muscle head who may pound you into the concrete.

Sunday PM. Went to JRs with a friend. After a couple of drinks (okay 4), I decide to go to WF to get some bread so I can make a sandwich with some left over veal from lunch on Saturday. As I'm looking around the bakery, this guy starts talking to me. I've seen him before. We went out once but not so much. Tonight he's looking ragged. First of all, who wears sunglasses in WF at 8PM at night? That should have been my first clue. And he's just a chatty Cathy. Telling me all sorts of stuff I don't want to know (the number of hair transplants he's had). He asks me if I'm going to Cherry next week. Cherry is the big DC circuit party. I tell him yes, but not exactly sure to what parts. Then he asks if I party. I tell him no. I've got a security clearance and drugs really aren't a good idea. Then he tells me that I need to take G. That's GHB. That all it does is make you horny and sweat when you dance and then it's out of your system. And that's how he's lost all of this weight. Okay, so I finally catch a clue. He's flying. Really high. All of the "weight he's lost." Yeah, newflash buddy, but you haven't lost a lot of weight. You're still pretty big. Plus, he's juggling this plastic container that has enough tuna pasta salad to feed Ethiopa, plus a big coffee pound cake thing, and then some other things. I'm thinking this is the post drug binge eating. Yeah, that's why the G isn't working for the weight loss. I finally escape, but it was just a weird night.

Lesson learned? Need to shop at the Soviet Safeway more.

The Birth and Death of a Blog

We know how a blog is born.

Some one decides that they have something to say about something or anything really. They sign up with one of the blog sites, and they are off an running. Their daily, weekly, or random musings are available for anyone to find, stumble upon, etc. Their are personal blogs (like mine or Joe's who's blog birthday is today), political blogs (my favs: www.andrewsullivan.com and www.americablog.blogspot.com), blogs about fashion, or sex, or almost anything uder the sun.

But what about when a blog dies?

I've seen blogs die. Geekslut died earlier this year. He got tired of writing, said he was going to convert it into an audio blog, but we haven't heard from him since. After reading his blog for awhile, you get the sense that you know this person somehow and when he stops blogging, there's a silence in your head. There's something missing. I guess that he's gotten sucked into work or maybe something personal that takes alot of his time and so he doesn't blog anymore. I wish him the best. He was a great blogger and one of the bloggers I saw at blogjam that lead to the creation of this blog.

I'm more concerned about Soul Of a Sailor and Day Dreamer. I found them via Andrew Sullivan and they are two gay, partnered, active duty military guys. Both had served in Iraq and despite some of their conservative ideas, I really liked, and respect them. A couple of days after they were mentioned in Andrew Sullivan's post, their blogs died. Or more appropriately, their blogs ceased to exist. There was a simple post saying that their blogs had been put on hiatus. But not only are they not blogging, their archives are gone also. Except for the fact that their blog front page is still there, it's almost like they don't exist. Since I've never the trusted the Don't Harrass part of Don't Ask, Don't Tell, I wonder if the silencing of their blogs is due to the fact that they are in the military and gay. I miss their bloggings. I hope they come back one day, rising like the phoenix from the flames.

Blow Off and "Being Invisible"

So a short recap of the weekend. After several failed attempts to get a decent disco nap in, I gave up, watched some DVDs, and then got dressed and headed for Blow Off. This time is was in the 930 club's main room and it was *packed*. Lots of hot men, some shirtless, standing around, dancing, etc. It was very nice and I saw quite a few people I recognized. It's odd that I recognize people from blogs, other bars, etc, but I really don't know them. That's the introvert in me. I just suck at going up to people and saying hello. And a couple of the people I know from their blogs I find attractive/interesting/etc, but again, I'm not going to go up to them like some potential stalker and tell them I know them from their blog. I ran into a friend of a friend and ended up dancing with him and his group of friends. All bears. And I got sort of friendly with one, and I'm not sure why since I had no intention of it going anywhere. It was just some friendly hooching. He told me he wanted to contact me and now I feel guilty for leading him on. Damn that conscience of mine!

"Being Invisible." One of the many things I just LOVE about being gay in DC is that it is a small community, so you'll run into people you've dated over, and over, and over again. Most of the time, I try to be decent about it. Look them in the eye, do the friendly nod/smile thing, and then keep going. Kind of regardless of how the dating thing ended. So, I'm at my gym and one of the guys I went out with only once, but we talked on the phone a lot, is there. His training is like 6-7PM, and mine is 630-730 PM. So I see him, and try to do the friendly nod thing, and I'm completely ignored. Like I'm not even there. Like I'm invisible. Okay, I got the message loud and clear that you didn't want to date, but I'm thinking it takes what a couple dozen of muscles to nod/smile back. I know, I know. I'm talking about gay men here. What am I expecting? I'm not sure. But maybe a little bit more.

How I Learned to Stop Sleeping and Love Insomnia

So I go through periods of insomnia. They eventually end and I rejoice in the sweet embrace of a deep sleep. But this has been an awfully long spell and I was starting to lose it. Only getting 2 or 3 hours at a time. If I lay in bed longer I get sore, and mad, and frustrated. Why can't I sleep? What's wrong with me? Don't I know this is going to make me MORE tired in the morning?

So since this spell has been going on a bit long, I've tried some different things. I've cut out my Crystal Light Ice Tea fix at night (which has very little caffeine to start with, but you never know). I've tried Tylenol PM. I've tried hot showers. You name it, I've tried it. So I started thinking, what if it's not me? What if my matress has finally died. I mean, I got it in Dec of 89. Yes, 1989. That's like 15 years ago. So maybe it's time for a new matress. So I made the trek to Landmark Mall where Hechts was having a sale and I got a new matress. It gets delivered on Friday. So that's only 5 more nights of no sleep. So my plan now is to get up when ever I wake up in the middle of the night and try to do something productive. Let's put this insomnia to some good use!!

Chase the Burn

That's what my personal trainer said tonight. "Chase the burn." As he handed me a medicine ball to use as I did my sit ups. Are you f*&king kidding me. I don't need to chase the burn. I found it. Or I should say it found me about 30 minutes ago somewhere between the jump squats, bent rows, mountain climbers, tricep extensions, squats, leg curls, lat pulldowns, up downs, and some "quality" time on the elliptical. The burn is f&*king chasing me. You know you've over the edge when you want to hurl all of the water you've been drinking, but you've got big time dry mouth.

So the personal trainer thing is going well. All bitching aside. The diet? Not so much. Last week was bad. Like Krispy Kreme donuts and Papa Johns Pizza bad. Bad Trey, bad. I've been afraid to weigh myself, but will definitely do it tomorrow.

Okay so the plan was to try to lose like 15 pounds by Memorial Day. Still do-able, but I need to focus. And to help with that focus, I just found out that my 20th High School Reunion is the weekend after Memorial Day. How's that for pressure. And dear Lord, how did I get to be so old? Wait, don't answer that.

Hands Free DC

So like last October DC went hands free. For cell phones. So no more yacking on the phone with the cell phone in one hand, a drink in the other and the steering wheel gripped firmly with your thighs. Or something like that.

Of course the crappy cell phone I get from work doesn't have bluetooth so I end up using the headset with a cord. So not cool. But I deal. I mean, they are giving out tickets now. So I promise I'll be good. Really I will.

So this AM, I'm driving to work, cruising down M St. in Georgetown and I have to stop at a light. So this police cruiser turns left in front of me and as the cop passes me I notice he's yacking away with a cell phone pressed to his ear.

Should I have tried to do a citizen's arrest?

Take Me Out . . . . .

a) to the ball game.
b) and just shoot me.
c) get me drunk and just have your way with me.

I'd like (c), but in reality it's (b), and as far as (a) goes: stop the madness. Yes baseball is back in Washington DC. I got the memo. The flier. The umpteen million articles in the papers. The never ending babble on the radio. The forever coverage on the TV. I'm surprised I haven't seen the f&*king Good Year blimp over the District. So it's been 34 years since baseball was in DC. You'd think it was 34 years since they'd gotten laid or something.

Okay, maybe I'm over-reacting a bit. I am sort of excited and have some tickets to some of the games. Now if I only had a date. . . .

Another "Take Me Out" is a play about a baseball player who comes out of the closet. Saw it in NYC and it was awesome. It's coming here this summer and I'm trying to organize a group to go during Pride week. We'll see.

So I wrote a huge fricken check to DC for taxes. $3500 I owed for the privilege of living in the District. Hell, even Jeff Gannon doesn't charge that much.

"Fat is the New Black"

Atleast according to Joe.My.God (http://joemygod.blogspot.com/).

So it figures that I actually lost 3 pounds this past week. So yes the obsessive compulsive exercising and dieting is working. Though I will admit that in a moment of weakness today I had two, yes two, sugary sweet full strength Cokes. It was like the elixier of life. Sugar and caffeine, who needs drugs when you've got friends like that to help you through the day.

Joe (and some of the other bloggers from NYC) seem to be bears. And I wonder why I'm attracted to them. I do go to Blow Off this weekend. It's this little basement bar underneath the 930 Club where the former leader of the Husker Du spins really cool indie music to a collection of bears. And while bears have a reputation for being friendly, I was pretty much ignored. I think I'm too thin to be a bear. Plus I have no facial hair. I'm too cute to be a bear. To old to be a twink. To fat to be a gym bunny. I am an island in the gay community. Oh well.

Best blog surfing today was to: http://www.atwoodkansas.com/ Such a great open letter to his community letting them know how their ignorance and bigotry is impacting him. Plus, hello hottie!!

Define "Normal"

From dictionary.com: "Conforming with, adhering to, or constituting a norm, standard, pattern, level, or type; typical".

Yeah, that's not me. In any way.

I've been reading a lot of blogs recently, and it's interesting to glimpse into the lives of these various people around the US. And at times I like to think of them as parallal lives that might have happened to me.

Say I didn't go to the Naval Academy. Say I went to Johns Hopkins instead. Would I have come out earlier? Without the discipline and structure of the Naval Academy, would I have gotten into the drug scene, would I have been safe, would I be like one of the people who's blog I read about?

It's all kind of interesting. And I don't know. I'm not sure what normal means anymore, and I'm not sure I care.

Aren't I just supposed to be the person I'm meant to be? And shouldn't I have found out who that person is by now?

My Life As A Diet Coke Addict

That's going to be the title for my autobiography. Kind of catchy isn't it?

Day 3 of the diet and so far, okay. I miss my sugary sweet and oh so refreshing full strength Coke and am slowly coming to terms with the little bitter after taste of Diet Coke. What's sad is that now I think of my Diet Cokes as little snacks during the day. And I try to space them out. One in the AM, and one in the PM. In between it's water.

Everyone loves my water bottle. On the cruise they had these cool blue, funky shaped water bottles. And since I knew I was going to be deydrated on the plane home, I took one with me. So now I carry it around everywhere I go. Everyone jokes saying, "Okay Trey, what's really in the bottle."

"Vodka's not just a morning drink anymore." - Karen from Will and Grace.

Trip to Boston tomorrow. So no morning gym. Will need to be careful with the diet tomorrow.

Oh The Places You'll Go

Found this cool site while blog surfing that lets you create a map of where you've been in the world. So here is mine:



create your own visited country map

Is there a 12 step program for travel addicts?

Maximum Density

Yep, I got on the scale this AM and it's official. I'm huge. And not in a good way. So it's time to work the diet again. Working out isn't a problem. My other personality (okay one of them) is Captain Cardio. I have yet to meet a peice of cardio equipment I haven't like. Well, maybe that crappy mountain climber thing. And it's not just cardio equipment, I like to run some also. But my diet is for crap. So I'm going to keep a food journal and try to be good. See if I can find some way to deal with the stress at work that doesn't involve chocolate.

In addition, I now have my own peronal body nazi, I mean trainer. I started that last week and let me tell you it's kicking my ass. And in a good way. I do 30 minutes of cardio before we meet and then we do this vicious circuit training that is just insane. When I leave the gym, I have to walk slowly and concentrate on not throwing up. It's that harsh.

Anyways, so I'm committed and I'm going to lose weight and I'll sort of document my progress here. But I'm not going to mention my real weight in case anyone is actually reading this blog. Just how much I've lost (or gained).

Another trip to Charleston

Yesterday the flight to Charleston was late due to the weather. Driving, pounding rain, with some lightening thrown in for good measure, meant we were two hours late leaving. So we're too late to check in for the conference, so we go to our Quality Suites Inn. It wasn't quality, and it wasn't sweet. This is what I get when I let my architect chose the hotel. He has two requirements, near the airport and high speed internet. I agree with high speed internet, but the hotels in downtown Charleston are SO much nicer. They are definitely worth the drive. Dinner at Coast (my favorite restaurant) and then back to the hotel to crash. Get up early, go to the conference. More of the same sh&t. No internet access and I'm wigging about all of the stuff I'm missing. Then since we're trying to reduce our "footprint", I get to go back home after the first day. My architect drops me off at the airport where there is never a line so I've got some time to kill. I didn't bring anything to read, so I check out the Newstand/store thing. Now all of the adult magazines have these little black cardboard covers so you can't see the cover page. That's fair, this is the South, the bible belt and they need to cover up the 8 or 9 straight porn magazines. But then I also notice they care using these covers to block Maxim, Blender, and GQ. GQ??? Are they afraid of good taste?

Some googlisms for today:

trey is single and loves beeeerrrrrr
trey is caring and fiercely loyal
trey is a dick
trey is an evil man
trey is beautiful
trey is sex on legs
trey is thinking of quitting to return to school because the stress from the job is getting to him

As for the last one, not so much school, but maybe something else.

Why We Dance

“Maybe you go out because you’re sick of your life
Or you want to get drunk or you want to get laid;
Or maybe you want to be something that you’re not at the moment
But that you could be if you’d just meet the right person and they’d give you a chance.

Or maybe you can get to that rare place where you’re invited in,
You’re made to feel comfortable
Where you see people you don’t have to be sorry for or intimidated by
And where you are allowed to dance-
Alone,
With a partner of the same sex,
With a partner of the opposite sex,
With a group,
With a stranger,
With a group of strangers,
Until it doesn’t matter anymore where you are on the ladder of success,
Or why you have to get up so early in the morning, or not get up at all.

The music’s beating loud and hard
And your heart’s beating loud and hard
And you feel anxious for a minute, but then you relax and you’re someplace else,
Where the sound of the music is soaking your clothes
And the heat is assaulting your eardrums
And pounding a sharp stake through the top of your head to your feet
Through your shoulders, your arms, your hands, your chest, your stomach,
Your hips, your butt, your thighs, your knees

None of these people look familiar
And you can’t remember their faces from one minute to the next
But they’re all doing it,
Whatever it is that’s turning this room into a pulsing, headless, machine
A frenzied muscle of Tantric libido that goes on and on and keeps going on.

There is no rhythm nation here, no love shack, no funky music white boy,
No burning down the house, no all she wants to do is dance

There’s just a groove in the dance floor
and it’s getting deeper,
and it’s smoking,
and it feels like soon it’ll burn. "

-from an 1980's GQ article. This is why we dance.