All About Trey

Life, Travel, Adventure

My Radical Gay Agenda (Ptown Version)





















I made a mistake. When I first got to Ptown, I should have signed up for the workshops and seminars right away. This was my chance to really step up to the plate and become part of the radical gay agenda. They offer all sorts of seminars and workshops here in Ptown to include:

Media Manipulation, Destroying Straight Marriages, Recruiting Straight Boys

I really wanted to get into the Recruiting Straight Boys 201. Apparently it involved a field exercise at one of the local colleges here on the Cape.

Alas, all of the good classes were taken. So I had to settle into my usual Ptown routine:

0830: Get up and have breakfast.
1000: Go to the beach.
1030-1400: Lay Out.
1430: Return from beach.
1500: Have a late lunch.
1530-1700: Disco Nap.
1700-1900: T-Dance.
1900-2000: Wander the shops on Commercial.
2000-0100: Then options:

a) Light dinner
b) Catch a Show
c) More dancing

0100: When everything closes at 1AM, go to Spiritus and have bad pizza and then go back to my room and crash.

**Repeat for 7 days**

Yikes, I’m exhausted just thinking about it. And yes, there is a lack of gym time on the schedule. But between the gout (don’t ask) and just being lazy, I’m thinking the gym can wait till I get back to the real world.

Okay, confession time. I sing when I dance. If I know the words to the song, I’ll sing them while I dance. Especially if it’s a good diva song. Today at the T Dance, they played Cher (natch!). And I’m looking at this one guy who is singing the words to the song. And that’s okay. But what’s not okay is trying to impersonate Cher ala head flips and exaggerated movements while singing. Really. Just because you’ve got bangs (yes bangs!) doesn’t mean you should be trying to do a decent Cher impersonation. Seriously. You’re in Ptown, at the T Dance, surrounded by guys. You’re gay. We got that. But the Cher impersonations? Please stop.

T-shirt slogan of the day: You Go GIRL! And take those tacky shoes with you!

I AM THIN AND GORGEOUS!

So can I tell you that I'm getting a little ego boost just by being at Bear Week here in Ptown? I've never felt for svelte!

After two days making the trek to the beach, I decided to head to one of the hotels that has a pool where you can just rent a lounge chase for a buck or two and then have access to the waiter who will bring you a cool frosty drink on a hot day like today. It was a great time. The weather was perfect, the music was interesting, and the pool was full of bears. Happy, friendly, swimming bears. Of course the joke (and it's an old one) is about the poor schmuck who has to clean the filter that is full of back (and chest) hair every night.

My radical gay agenda for Ptown today included the Tea Dance. The Tea Dance is from 4-7PM every day at the Boatslip. Even on a Tuesday it was pretty packed. The music was awesome and there was dancing. Yes, dancing bears.

Now, Ptown is a great little town. And after coming up here for 4 years now, I keep thinking I've seen it all. And then I see something and I just scratch my head.

#1. At the Tea Dance, there was a strange man dancing with a little teddy bear. Yes, a teddy bear. And he kept holding it over his head and the lowering his arm so the bear would almost touch the people near by. It was almost like he was giving them a teddy bear blessing. Almost.

#2. At the end of the tea dance, some dancing girls came in to promote their shows. They do this in Ptown, the drag queens or other performing acts will come into to the Tea Dance to push their flyers for their shows. I saw Wonder Woman yesterday and she looked FLAWLESS. But I digress . . . so the DJ had started spinning the great disco classic: "Don't Leave Me This Way". So there were all of these bears dancing their fur off and then there were these dancing girls (think show girls from Las Vegas) who were doing their routine to the music. The dancing crowd was just enthralled and turned en masse to check out the girls. It was just a little too surreal. A group of bears, dancing, and watching showgirls dance.

Only in Ptown.

Speaking of, I love the T-shirts here.

My favorites so far:
1) Front: I Promised I'd Be Good This Summer.
Back: Never mind. Want to Fuck?
2) I've seemed to have mis-placed my boyfriend.
3) Don't make me get my flying monkeys!

The Adonis Complex

In the early to mid 1980s, GQ published an article called “The Adonis Complex.” It was about an emerging trend where the ideal shape of the male body, its physical form, was being changed to one of more muscular shape. Much like how the ideal feminine form had changed from voluptuous to thin, the same trend was happening with the male form.

Today’s it obvious that the ideal male form is one of a thin waist, muscular body, and of course a six (preferably an eight) pack abs. But this article was from over 20 years ago, before every men’s magazine had a muscular, thin, shirtless man on its cover. I remember the article pretty well. At the time, I was short and overweight and it seemed like an ideal form that I would never achieve.

Battling with my weight has been a challenge ever since. The things I did to make the weight restrictions while I was in the Navy where probably not very healthy. After I got out of the Navy, I did lose a lot of weight, but I’m still kind of big. I’ve got more muscles, but its something I deal with every day.

During the shower scene in “Take Me Out”, there were 8 guys lined up, naked. From 40 feet away, it was kind of an odd perspective. They were actors, playing baseball players, but none of them were in “perfect shape”. Which is kind of accurate, I think most ball players are just in okay shape. But to see these men lined up, it was interesting to look at them and to figure out which ones had characteristics that I found attractive. Broad shoulders and chest, decent biceps, a waist that was atleast narrower than their shoulders. Like most people, I’ve fully bought into what is considered the ideal male form. But how realistic is that?

After the play, I went home and caught the episode of Will & Grace where Will and Jack are helping a “newbie”, a guy just coming out of the closet. At the end of episode, the newbie declares his desire to look like the cover boy of a mens magazine, is wearing expensive, but uncomfortable shoes, and using credit to pay for it all. Will and Grace quipped that he really was gay: unrealistic body expectations, choosing fashion or comfort, and living beyond your means.

Unrealistic body expections. The gay community, always the early adopters and trendsetters, embraced the new masculine form. Add in the fact that masculine mean looked healthy and that the gay community was associating thin and gaunt with HIV and AIDS, the new ideal masculine form became the holy grail, something to be sought and treasured. But not everybody can be 6'2", 200 pounds, have a 44 inch chest and a 30 inch waist. The gay community worships this insane body image, and those who have it, are praised and sought after.

I’m in Ptown right now and it’s throwing me for a little bit of a loop. It’s Bear Week here. Walking down the street are guys who push 250, or 300 easy. Some of the bears are more muscle bears, but some are just big guys. These are guys who have accepted that they are big and, one assumes, are happy with it. They appreciate a little hair on the chest, facial hair, and/or a bit of paunch of a stomach. These guys are definitely masculine, but not in the Adonis manner. Is this a type of masculinity I want to strive for? Not really. But it is interesting and some of these guys are sexy. But the bears I’m attracted to seem to be the muscle bears, so I’m still buying into the Adonis complex. Just a different version of it.

Mixed Bag of Blog

Been really busy this week but didn't get a chance to blog. So here I go:

Random (and not so Random) Acts of Violence.
A woman was attacked about 4 blocks from my condo. I walk down that street and it's pretty nice. A guy whacked out on PCP just came up to her and starting stabbing her. She called for help and people rushed to help her. It took 5 guys to hold him down. She's going to make it, but apparently it was real ugly. Even in Dupont, one of the nicer areas in DC, you can't escape violence. Just living in today's world you need to know that no matter where you are, you're not particularly safe. And I'm not getting all dooms-dayish here. It's just another reason to be on the look out, know where you, situational awareness. Sometimes there's a randomness you just can't avoid.

This week London was also attacked by terrorist and it looks like there are over 50 people dead. This was no random. This was planned. The coverage has been pretty interesting and I'm loving some of the personl accounts via blogs. Andrew Sullivan has been pretty hard core and captured alot of the reactions from across the pond. My heart goes out to all of the victims and their families.

Tired of Less? Me too!
To be accurate, I'm tired of Less. The Lesser of two evils. With O'Connor's retirement, both sides of the political spectrum have started to gear up for war. It looks like Gonzales may be a real candidate. Talking with a friend of mine, he was like: Gonzales isn't that bad. And it's true if you look at the right wing political machine and the attacks they are doing on him. He isn't "that bad." So he's the lesser of two (or probably more) evils. But why can't we get someone who is actually good? Gonazales was an integral part of the Iraqi torture scandal and somehow determined that the Geneva conventions were "quaint." This is the guy you want to put on the Supreme Court? If this is what comes across as a moderate conservative, we are really in bad shape.

Who Cares Anyways?
One of the things I noticed about my visit to my sister and her family is how politically apathetic they are. Gay rights? Abortion? Taxes? Abu Ghraib? None of it really effects them, so they don't care. My sister works, my brother in law stays home with the kids. They've got real life problems to deal with and don't have the time/energy to get involved in politics. It's kind of sad, but I really think that's a common problem in America. If you are working hard to just get food on the table, pay the rent, and maybe squeeze some money in savings, then you don't have time to read about the issues, get involved, support the different politcal organizations. So their voice, their ideas, their problems get lost in the political discussions of our world. I don't blame my sister at all. After working all day, coming home to help cook dinner, bathtime for the kids, read them a book and put them to bed, she's barely got any time to herself, much less time to share with her husband. But still it's sad.

Take Me Out
A group of friends went to see Take Me Out last night. It was awesome and just a funny as I remembered. Classic lines:

"Fuck the gay community."
"I would but they don't want me."

Or "The beauty of a narrow life is that the small deviations produces staggering results."

Off to Ptown at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Time for some serious decompression time. Yeah!!!

Boogers! The Other White Meat?

Just got back from a great trip to LA visiting my sister and her family. I just love to visit my neice (almost 4) and my nephew (6). My nephew is the biggest drama queen. I can't remember what he wanted for lunch one day, but my sister didn't have it, so he stomped his foot and said:

"Fine. Then I'm going to go up to my room and have boogers for lunch."

How do you respond to that?

My neice is all ready for college. Apparently my sister made some sort of comment about how she could buy something after she goes to college and makes some money. So now my niece thinks college is like a bank or something, just some place you go. And afterwards you have money. The funniest part is that now my sister can use that as leverage to get her to pick up her toys, eat her vegetables, etc. It's just hilarious.

Anyways, it was the best trip. Did I do anything gay? Nope. Between the jet lag and chasing after my niece and nephew, I was just wiped out by the end of the day. Going out to West Hollywood or any such place like that was just not an option. Having children is not for people who tire easily, or are lazy. I repeatedly thanked my sister for having her children. I love them, but I don't have to live with them, and my parents are happy with grandchildren.

Not to end on a down note, but I must say that I absolutely DESPISE Dulles airport. It's a haze to get to, even driving. The remote parking lots are like in Siberia. The main terminal is a ZOO! The security lines are just unreal. And then you get to the remote terminals and they are all packed with people and the low ceilings and too few windows makes it feel dark and confining. Just not good. I don't care if I have to do a layover, I'm not flying out of there again (unless it's international). It's just not worth it. Oh, and I forgot where I parked in the hinterlands and ended up walking through three different parking areas to find my car in the 90+ degree heat. Yeah, that's a good way to end a trip!

Pics of my niece and nephew when I get a chance!

The Longest Day

June 29th, 1985.  Twenty years ago, at 0630, I walked into the
Halsey Field House at the US Naval Academy. It was
Indoctrination Day, or I-Day, for the Class of 1989. There were
hundreds of us, over 1400 hundred I would find out later. We
were the best and brightest from the United States. We came
in all shapes, sizes, colors, and genders. We were the future of
the Navy and we were all excited.


As we walked into Halsey Field House in our civilian clothes,
we were warmly greeted by the upperclassman. “Welcome
to the Naval Academy” they said with smiles on their faces
as they pointed us to our respective registration/check in
tables. I remember the smiles. It seemed a strange
juxtaposition to the banner hung on the edge of the Lejuene Hall
which read: “Welcome Class of 89: Attrition is our mission.
Class of 1987.”


I-Day was the longest day of my life. The check-in process was
insane. Uniform issue: whiteworks, summer whites, khakis, blacks,
rain coats, t-shirts, underwear, socks, PT gear (down to standard
issue sneakers, and jock straps), linens, towels, and of course a sea
bag to put it all in. We met other members of our Plebe Company
as we were taught to stand at attention, march, salute, etc. We
were marched into Bancroft Hall, the world’s largest dormitory,
and assigned rooms, and roommates. Dumping the sea bags, it
was time to go get the mandatory haircut. My hair was never
very long, but it got a lot shorter that day. You walked into the
barber an individual, and you walked out a plebe. We had changed
into whiteworks at this point, and after the haircut the
transformation was complete. You were a plebe, one of hundreds,
all dressed in whiteworks and dixie cup hats.


We ate lunch at some point. I remember a big hall, King Hall,
and the food being okay, but we didn’t have much time there. Then
it was time to get poked and prodded at medical. Everyone had
to have a physical to get in, but that didn’t prevent them from
sticking almost everyone with atleast one shot. The Naval Academy
isn’t large, but it was quite confusing that day. We were in and out
of buildings, in and out of Bancroft Hall, using different entrances
and exits, marching from one end of the Yard to the other. I think
at one point I thought I saw my Dad sitting on a bench watching me
as we marched by. I say I think I saw him, but I’m not sure, my
eyes were in the boat. I had learned that already. I think we also
got issued a rifle at this point. A very heavy and completely
nonfunctioning rifle that I would learn to hate over my four years
at the Naval Academy. At some point in the afternoon, we lined
up in formation at Tecumpseh Court and marched to the
Indoctrination Ceremony.

Around 4 PM on a hot sunny day, standing in a field of white
uniforms, we raised our right hands, and the over 1400 plebes
of the Class of 1989 were formally sworn in to the Naval Academy.
After the ceremony, we had a few minutes with our families. Dad
and I talked a bit and then he left to go back to the hotel. Along
with several of the other plebes, I made my way back to the
Bancroft Hall. Even standing outside Bancroft Hall, we knew
something had changed. The yelling and screaming had begun.

We braced ourselves and made our way up the 7th wing stair
well, chopping (a sort of high knee jog/run) and squaring
smartly at each corner as we yelled, “Go Navy, Beat Army.”
When we entered the 7-0 deck, the upperclass were waiting
for us. Their smiles were gone. Long gone. From the exit of the
stairwell to my room was approximately forty yards. That evening
it took me almost an hour to go forty yards. “Plebe HALT” still
echoes in my head as I think back to that evening. I made it back
to my room, and my roommates, and barely had time to catch
our breathe before it was time for evening meal formation.

I don’t remember dinner. I don’t remember much of the rest
of the evening. I know I heard “Plebe Halt” about a million
times that night. I know we were braced up (don’t ask). I know
we were yelled at a lot. And I remember trying to stencil
“Rxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx" on ever piece of clothing I had and cursing
my long last name. When I finally slept that night, on that hot,
humid, June evening twenty years ago, my last thoughts
were: “So this is how it begins.”

Career Fears

From Dangling Conversation:

"I am so afraid of ending up in a career I am unhappy in just for lack of initiative to find something else."

I understand that completely. I stayed in the Navy probably a little longer than I should have. Would I be where I am now if I got out earlier? Would I be happier if I had come out earlier? Those two questions are kind of intertwined for me, so it's hard to answer.

I always told myself (and maybe it was that kind of quiet lie you tell yourself in the dark since you know no one will call you on it) that I wasn't going to stay some place where I was unhappy all of the time. Be it the Navy or anyplace else. Now that I'm out in the civilian world there are lots of opportunities. But picking the right one is the problem. How will I know it's the right job? Will it really be better? Will I be trading one bad job for another (with a company with worse benefits)?

Better the Devil You Know?

Sometimes I'm not so sure.

National HIV Testing Day!

Do you know your status?

Are you black, white, red, yellow,straight, gay, male, female, bicurious, young, old, African American, Native American, any type of American, any type of anything. Are you breathing?

Then you need to know your status. Period.

I went down to the Whitman Walker Clinic and got tested. So I'm good for another 6 months.

One of the good things about my Navy days was all of the STD and AIDS Awareness training we had. And we were forced to get tested every year. Since I'm sexually active (shh, don't tell anyone) I get tested twice a year. It's just a smart thing to do.

The Romance of a Roadtrip

Roadtrip. It just brings up certain thoughts. You and your buddies on the road to the beach for a weekend of fun. Or you and your special someone driving up to the mountains for a romantic little weekend get away. Or maybe it's just you, and the open road, going some place different. It all sounds so fun, romantic, intriguing doesn't it?

Let me introduce you to the reality of a roadtrip. It's long, it's boring, and the traffic sucks.

Okay, I was invited to a pool party in northern NJ by this couple I know. And for some reason, I thought a roadtrip would be fun. Just me in the car, the sun roof open, and some good music to keep me company. It sounds good, doesn't it?

I'm not quite sure when was the last time I drove north on I-95, but it's horrible. When you head south from DC on I-95, there is some traffic, but you really don't hit a big city until Miami. Sure I worry about hitting traffic in Richmond, but come on, it's Richmond?!? Heading up on Friday I left Rosslyn and went around the beltway. Stop and go traffic at 1PM on a Friday afternoon. Please explain that to me. Then I hit the whole toll plaza mess at the tunnel in Baltimore. North of Baltimore, I came to a complete stop THREE times traffic was so bad. Then you get into DE and it's all about the tolls. I don't mind paying a fee, but is there some way to charge it all up front and not have to deal with the mile long backups at the multiple toll plazas? Then it was the NJ turnpike. More tolls, more back ups. It took me 5.5 hours on Friday to drive up. It took me 4.5 hours to come back.

Next time, I either fly or take the train.

Better Living Through Chemistry

Apparently my customer started taking his meds again:

"Trey, you are right. I need to start reviewing the SOWs in more detail."

So I've won this round? Or have I just postponed the battle for another day?

Speaking of getting beaten, today I sat through a 120 page power point brief about our Supplier Agreement Management process.

Just shoot me now. Please.

Reasoning with the Unreasonable!

First of all, thanks to Silent Cacaphony for the title of this blog entry. It has been the most frustrating week and this title pretty much sums it up.

I've spent the week arguing with my government customer about something I did, several months ago, based on his direction. He now denies he told me to do it. He never provides direction via email or in writing, so I have nothing to go back to him with. And it's something I've reported to him in various meetings, reports, briefings so I'm not sure why this is such a big surprise to him now. The real issue is that he wants me to do something that I can't do now since we used what funding we had for the earlier effort. Look, I want to do what he wants. But there's this small issue of funding. But that's not the real issue. The real issue is a simple word.

No.

That's the problem. He can't stand it when someone tells him no. My 6 year old nephew is better at taking "no" for an answer than my customer. If he doesn't like what he hears, he will brow beat the person, accusing them of doing something illegal, or without proper authority.

Yesterday at a luncheon this issue came up and the question was, "Well who told us to send the piece of equipment to the site." And the government rep in charge of the fielding turned about and said, "He did." Then the government folks who worked under him were like, "Do you have that in writing?" So it's nice to hear that he treats his own people so bad that they are scrambling for some shred of cover to avoid his wrath.

At the Naval Academy, they told us to make sure that we weren't "yes men." Don't become some slobbering sycophant because that's not what leadership is about. Now as a government contractor, you've never supposed to say no. "Of course I can solve world hunger." And you can if you get the funding. But being the PM I understand what the tasks are, what we've been funded to do, what we need to deliver, and what funding we have to support drive by taskings. So at times you need to say no.

Thanks for letting me rant. I feel a little bit better. I'm going to walk to the circle. Sit in the sun and just not think about this crap for awhile.

What Have You Done Today To Make You Feel Proud?

Well Pride Weekend is over, well atleast for me. I'm sure the partying will go late into the night, but not for me. I need to get some stuff done at home and get ready for work like the responsible gay man that I am.

Yesterday I went to the Pride Parade. It was great, but long. I sat with one of my friends and his children and we watched the Parade. Mr. DC Eagle, Scott Jones, was on the Eagle float in a HOT leather jock. Yummy. It was great to see the politicians out, as well as the drag queens. My church, St. Thomas, had a car in the parade as well with our Rector riding in it. Today at church she quipped that it was the first time she had worn a tiara! There were lots of great floats and a lot of different groups represented. But it was over two hours long. After the parade, I went home and just chilled out. Yes I should have gone out, but I didn't. I was tired and I just thought I would stay home. And I'm okay with that.

The Pride festival was great this afternoon. Lots of hot guys with no shirts on. Lots of different types of people. It was fun. Deborah Cox just W*O*R*K*E*D that stage. She sang a great medly of 3 or 4 of her songs, then sang Nobody's Supposed To Be Here, Easy As Life, and then for the encore, Absolutly Not. She was awesome. But it was just insanely hot, so after a bit, I returned to my nice AC'd little condo.

So what I have I done to day to myself feel proud? I ran. I went to church. I supported some great organizations at the Pride Festival: HRC and the Whitman Walker Clinic. Overall I have to put today as a big check in the win column.

Pride Weekend

I'll be going to the Pride Parade this afternoon. It will be my fifth Pride Parade here in DC. It's okay, not great, but nice. The parade I say in Sydney at the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras was just so over the top fabulous (and I don't use the F word lightly!). But I like DC's. It's got your Dykes on Bikes, the drag queens, the gym boys on the ReSluts (I mean Results) float, the leather men, DC Bears, politicians, PFLAG, you name it. None of those individual groups really represent me, but when you take them in total, and what they stand for, it does. It really does.

I'm not a marching type (probably that conservative, Episcopalian upbringing). But I really respect those who do. I think the Pride parade is sort of a modern day non-violent Stonewall like protest. You may not like drag queens, but they have every right to walk down the street and strut their stuffs. You may not like the leather men, but they too have their right to do what they want. The media will no doubt focus on the extremes of the parades, the Dykes on Bikes and the Leathermen wearing assless chaps, and miss the rest. The groups like PFLAG, the Gay Science Fiction Reading Club, Brother Help Thyself, or the HIV/AIDS awareness groups. No there isn't a group of suburban gay families who march, but you wouldn't see them on the front page of the newspaper. It wouldn't sell copy. But that's okay, the Parade is a celebration of the whole GLBT community and I'm okay with the Dykes on Bikes, Drag Queens, and Leathermen taking the lead. They did it years ago at Stonewall. And if they hadn't then, we wouldn't be where we are today.

So I'll go out an cheer for the Parade and stand proud with the rest of my community.

Absolutely Not!

"Do I measure me by what you think? Absolutely not, absolutely not"

Deborah Cox RULES!!!!

"Absolutely Not" was the first song I heard from her. Dancing at Ptown, summer 2001. Sooo much fun. So much energy. I just loved this song. And then I started checking out her other songs:

"Nobody's Supposed To Be Here"
"Something Happened On the Way to Heaved"
"Same Script, Different Cast" (with crack baby Whitney Houston!!!)
"Things Just Ain't the Same"

I loved them all.

It seems like every year at Ptown I had my favorite Deborah Cox song.
2003: "Play Your Part":


"Can you pretend to be the man I should have been with
Can we fake the life you know I should have had
Can we do a better job of pretending that you really care
Or I'll have to give the part to someone else"


Hello. LOVE IT!!!

2004: "Easy As Life" from her performance on B-way in Aida. The dance remix of course.


"
All I have to do, Is forget how much I love him
All I have to do, Is put my longing to one side
Tell myself that love’s an ever changing situation
Passion would have cooled, and all the magic would have died
It’s easy as life

I try to forget how much I want him here, Then my dreams slowly disappear
I cannot forget that my emotions die, Oh I don’t even want to try
Nothing in life is ever easy, Nothing in love will ever run true
My heart will never stop believing, I still believe in what love can d
o"

So awesome.

And she's coming to DC!! For the Pride Festival. I am SO psyched.
This is going to be a GREAT weekend!!!

Reunions: It's *NOT* all about me.

But I don't think it's all about you either. But maybe I'm judging you (and find you lacking) merely because you are in fact reading my blog. ; )

So the second night of the reunion was similar to the first, except with less alcohol. Which allowed me to be a bit more observant and introspective.

Okay, there were over 400 people in my graduating class, but only 80 showed up for the 20th reunion. So who are those 80 people? As I walked around and nodded to some, chatted with some, and ignored the rest (intentionally and unintentionally), I realized that reunions aren't for people like me.

Reunions are for the in-crowd, the jocks, the cheerleaders, etc. After dinner, we had a slide show/video presentation. What did we see? Pictures of football players, basketball players, wrestlers, cheerleaders, the homecoming court. Basically your A list crowd. Even the non-school pictures showed the same people. A group of people chugging beer at some party. A group of people cutting class and smoking in their van. If there were 400 people in my class, we saw maybe 100 pictures of the same 20 people. It was all about them.

Where were the band fags, the drama queens, the geeks (though I think we called them nerds then)? First of all notice the perjorative terms that we had back then, that still carry forward to this day. Second of all, why aren't their pictures of them in the slide show? Were there any pictures of them from 20 years ago, or did the group who put the slide show up just not have any? And thirdly, where were these people at the reunion? For the most part, they didn't show up. Oh some did, a couple of band types, a couple from the smart clique. But for the most part, I'd say 80% of the people who showed up for the reunion were from the A list crowd.

Now I'm not bitter. Seriously. I got to meet some of my friends from high school. I spent some time with my parents. It was a good trip overall. But I think I'm more interested in trying to get my group of friends together when we can, as opposed to a scheduled reunion which isn't about us anyways.

Do I know you?

She said as she squinted at my name tag. She had to look twice. I'm not sure if it was because my handwriting was so bad, or if she was so drunk.

"Do I know you?" She asked again with a slight slur to her voice. "Or do you know me?"

I looked at her closely. Short brown hair with bad highlights, too much make up, a very small top that wasn't exactly demure. I did look at her name tag, conveniently placed to allow one to look inside the top if one was so inclined. I didn't recognize the name.

"No, I don't think I know you. I don't think we had any classes together." I replied.

"Fine, then get out of my way, I want to find people I know." She said as she bumped into me slightly as she worked her way to the next group of people.

Ah yes reunions. Aren't they a blast?

My 2oth high school reunion. It kind of came up on my without me thinking about it. 20 years since I graduated from Wasson High School in Colorado Springs. I don't think about it much. Being an army brat, I moved around alot and I came to Wasson at the beginning of my junior year in high school. High school wasn't overly bad for me. I wasn't out, but I was decidely different. Never a good thing. I was the new guy, smart, fat, funny. Those were just some of the descriptions of me in high school. I had a small group of friends but somehow we lost touch over the years. I would run into them randomly when I came home to visit my parents, but we never kept in touch.

Now I'm not so sure what I would have in common with them. Some of my friends we're like "Dan and I went to school with each other since 1st grade." Yeah, that's not me. My friendships are few and spurious. Being in the Navy didn't help. Get to a new place, make friends, and then move again and slowly loose touch with them. Do you see a pattern? And will I be able to have better, deeper friendships now that I'm staying in one place long enough?

Final Jeopardy: The Answer Is the USA and Turkey

The question is: "What two NATO countries still ban gays and lesbians from serving in their military?"

Seriously.

Quite by accident I stumbled upon a Servicemember's Legal Defense Fund cocktail party at Halo. (Melon Martini: bad; Mango Martini: good) Anyways, they were hosting some Swedish gay sailors. All officers by the way. The one guy was okay, but not dream date material. Think about it, a hot swedish naval officer. Hmm, tell me that's not what dreams are made of.

Okay, back to the subject. Isn't it sad that out of all of NATO, it's only the USA and Turkey (a predominantly Muslim country in case you didn't know) that still ban gays and lesbians from serving in the military.

And now I just read that the soldier who was awarded a purple heart and WANTS to go back to Iraq and serve in the military is being kicked out under DADT. When he first came out, the right wing-nuts have already made it clear that just because you get wounded and get a purple heart that you aren't a hero. After all, he is gay.

And that's when I just wanted to puke. Listen you homophobic f&^kwads: All of our soldiers, sailors, marines, and airmen who are serving over in Iraq and Afghanistan and all of the other places across the globe are heroes. They are putting it on the line every day. And while I have a big problem with some of the senior military & civilian leadership that got us into Iraq, I still have the utmost respect for those who go into harms way. So shut the f&%k up.

DC Eagle Saturday Night

The back porch. Around 1230.

I'm standing outside alone. The smoke and the heat from inside is a bit much and it's nice outside. The porch has a decent crowd, a nice mix of bears, leather guys, young, old.

And then there's this group of A&F-ish guys who are pounding the drinks hard and talking loud. Very loud.

"Look, I know that I have Ish-Shoes! But that gurl is messed up." One says to the other.

"Oh she is a big ole mess alright. A big ole mess." One replied back. As he threw up one hand in the air.

The Eagle, for the un-initiated, is a levi leather bar. You get a good mix of bear, leather guys, athletic guys, blue collar, etc. Big, butch, men for the most part.

What we don't see alot of are big nelly queens.

If you are waving your hands with a theatrical flush as you make your point. Or if you refer to another guy as "a gurl" or "she", then I think you may be in the wrong bar.

Just a thought.

Melancholy Mike? Danny Downer? Sammy Sad? Grumpy Gus?

Debbie Downer seemed a little girlish. I'm not that gay. Right?

I will admit that I've just been a grouch at work. My secretary keeps asking if everything is okay and I sort of wave her off. Or, we'll play this game where I go, "It's just GREAT." Like Tony the Tiger. And she'll go, "Fine, lie to me." I appreciate the concern, but it just doesn't help.

What would help? A little dose of reality and responsibility from my customer. Instead, what I get is just random, abusive, accusations combined with unrealistic expectations. And part of the reason why it gets to me so much is because I know part of it is a game. Let's just fuck with the contractors. Gee, that makes me feel like I'm a valued part of the team. AGH!!!!!

So in addition to the insomnia, which makes me tired and less likely to work out on my non-trainer days, I'm also stress eating. So I've started to gain weight. Yeah, that makes me feel even better.

So I was laying in bed last night trying not to think about the potential diaster meeting I had scheduled, I thought about the last time I truely lost weight. I had gotten back to DC after living in Naples. I was still in the Navy, but working at an organization where the stress was pretty low, and I worked basically 8 hour days. So that's the type of environment I need to be in if I want to lose weight. Losing weight will be good for my health, good for my social life, and good for my self esteem. Hmm, so what do I do?

I did leave work early today. Okay, I left work at 430PM after getting there at 6AM. Anyways, I left work, came home and changed into shorts and then headed to Axis to get my haircut. I left Axis with my fab short semi-spikey haircut that includes some great highlights. I grabbed a soda and then just sat in the park, relaxing and having a great time. It was so nice to just stop for a moment and let time sort of slide by.

This weekend I will have fun!! Damn it. Of course, with the work network going down, I won't be able to work that much. Damn the bad luck. ; )

Is it Friday yet?

Am I a Debbie Downer?

Someone at work made the comment that I was a Debbie Downer. I finally saw the SNL skit the other weekend and I got it. Yes, I'm negative at work. Too much to do, not enough time, tasking conflicts, over commitments, personality conflicts, etc. But am I really a negative person? I didn't think about it at the time. Sarcasm rules supreme in my office and if you can't make a joke about how insane it all is, then you will go insane.

But tonight I was coming back from the gym and I passed my neighbor coming down the stairs. "Hey, how are you?" I asked. And he replied, "Oh, not bad as you would say."

And that's what I would say. "Not bad." It's my standard response. If things are going to hell in a handbasket and I want to jump off the 14th St bridge. I'd say "Not bad." No one really wants to get sucked into my personal hell so why be honest and say "Things really suck." Imagine the reaction you would get. If things are going okay, then I'll say "Not bad." And even if things are going better than okay, I'll still say "Not bad." Just as most people don't want to get sucked into your personal hell, most people also don't want to get sucked into your personal paradise. "Great, I just had the best blow job or the best dinner or met the nicest guy, etc." It borders on the edge of TMI. So "not bad" has become my standard response.

And I'm beginning to think that's wrong. Or not healthy. Or whatever.

One of my favorite quotes (and I can't remember where it's from): "Never being happy isn't the same as being unhappy, is it?"

Am I subconsiously preparing myself to never find happiness?
Is this all some self protection mechanism?
Is this all too deep for a Monday night?