This Man loves flowers!

I tell this to everyone too. Can't think of a gift to get me? Flowers. Regardless of the occasion, I love flowers. And contrary to what some people think, This Man has found that a lot of men enjoy getting them, just as much as women in fact. My favorites, or course--calla lillies. After that, anything will do, as long as there's no carnations in the mix. It's always been This Man's belief that carnations spell cheap. They are the cheapest flower next to tree stems and I don't like them whatsoever. No carnations--ever! A bit dramatic, wouldn't you say?
So the reason I bring up flowers is because around 5:30, This Man's doorbell rang and a scruffy looking guy had a delivery for me. It was perhaps the most beautiful bouquet of gerber daisies that This Man had ever seen! The card attached read,

It was as simple as him asking This Man to stop by his office this morning for a brief "pole-polish".

I was game; not because it was an old buddy who I hadn't seen in about a year. And not because I was surely guaranteed to pop one off. I jumped at the chance with such tenacity because, simply he was going to do it while he was at work.
It would be a blowjob while on the job. And This Man wasn't about to let the opportunity pass me by. Call it a crazy fetish, but I love getting some action on the job. While I can promise you that I've never and will never, ever consider fooling around onboard my fine warship (just the thought repulses me), whenever a buddy calls me and mentions that they're at work, I'm always down for granting the request to hookup. I think it started with JC. JC used to have an office in downtown San Diego. He employed two people and just before they left for the evening, he would call me and we would fool around in his office. It was such a turn on! Of course, had we been caught, I really don't think the cleaning crew would've told anyone--considering he was his own boss.
So back to today, it took me less than 15 minutes to get to his office and within a matter of seconds, my pants were dropped and he was on his knees in front of This Man,sucking for all that it was worth! I was turned on by the "you've got mail" echoing at his workstation. I got excited listening to the newsradio station,giving rush hour traffic updates. And I was turned on just looking out the window and seeing other commuters heading to work as well.
And after what was a fantastic "job" that left This Man temporarily weak in the knees, he wiped my wad from his chest and smiled.
"Gotta get back to work. Trust me, I'll bill a client for this time well spent."
It didn't get any better than that!

Mahalo

He was so direct and straight forward, it took This Man by surprise.
This evening, my son and I were talking while I was having a bite to eat. The conversation started out on a light note and the usual smacking of each other around the way that we usually do. Until D made the following comment.
D: "When you hit me Dad, it hurts."
This Man: "When you hit me, it hurts too."
Here's where he really got my attention.
D: "But when I do something bad and you thump me on the head, it hurts."
This Man: "Well D, that's because when you do something bad, I get upset with you. You're not a baby are you?"
D: "I always tell myself not to cry when you thump me."
This Man: "You do?"
D: "And I cry and I get mad because I don't want you to think I'm a baby."
It was right then and there that This Man wanted to cry. I was speechless! And at that precise moment, I saw myself as the monster that I'd tried to never allow myself to become.
You see, I've never wanted my son to see me as a monster or as someone that he should be afraid of. At the same time, I know that it is my job as his father to enforce discipline in him. My son knows that when he does wrong, he is to be punished. But understand that what I think is punishment may not be punishment to others. Sure, I'll ground him, take away his video game privileges or he can't watch television or go outside for a couple of days, but those punishments are pretty easy for him to handle. But my son knows that there are some things for which a harsher punishment is required. For example, when he lies to me or he doesn't do as he's told.
That's where a smack or a thump is given and in my defense, it's supposed to hurt.
But not to the point where it evokes fear.
Back to the earlier conversation. He then went on to talk about his first fight at the neighborhood playground in which a kid hit him and gave him his first nosebleed.
This Man: "When the kid hit you on the playground, did you cry then?"
D: "Yes."
This Man: "I was upset that it happened, but you didn't do anything wrong."
D: "But it hurt."
This Man: "Yes, I know. But son, don't ever let anyone see you cry on the playground like that."
D: "I didn't want to cry when I came home. I didn't want you to see me crying."
Again, This Man was floored! At the same time, I was flattered that he was finally telling me this. But I knew that after hearing this all coming from him, I would definitely have to make some changes in the way I do things with him. My son, I've been told, is my biggest fan and I know he without a doubt loves me the way I love him. But after hearing all of this coming from his 8 year old mouth, I couldn't help but wonder, "Was I worthy?"
Tonight before he rushed off to bed, he sat and watched a bit of Law & Order with me, as usual and before heading up the stairs, he told me that he loved me. But all my mind would replay was the above conversation that we had. Over and over.
Over and over.
This Man knew what was next. I was a monster.
And I bawled like a baby.

Mahalo

**Picture (Untitled by Keith Haring)

I'll probably catch hell for even posting this pic, but This Man just had to share it with someone. And while the guys in the San Diego room of Gay.com know exactly who this license plate belongs to (and now, so do I), I couldn't keep it to myself. This car was seen in Hillcrest on Friday. And while it's a known fact that 9 out of 10 men in Hillcrest are bottoms boys, this guy decided to advertise it.

Mahalo

Okay, it's that time again when This Man does my weekend wrap up. The rules are still the same. Write about the weekend (starting from Friday to Sunday), freehand and no proofreading. I have to do this in about four minutes. However, since I'll be adding pictures, they don't count towards the time. So I've set the timer and here it goes.
Friday, my best friend L got off work early so she, This Man and my son, D hopped in the car and headed to Balboa Park to lounge in the sunshine. Since it was Friday, we called it cocktail hour and packed a jug of Smirnoff & cranberry juice and while my son was playing on the playground, she and I got cocktailed. L blogged about that moment in better detail on her blog.
Saturday was my date with my good buddy, DE who'd came to town for a conference. I was so happy to see him. I went to his hotel room and got reacquainted. Later when his collegue showed up, we all went out to Numbers. Which for what it was worth, we could've stayed at the hotel room because all DE and This Man did was make out. That man is fantastic. After I dropped DE and his friend off, I was heading across downtown when I witnessed an awful car accident. One car ran a red light and damaged the car that was in front of me. I stuck around, helped everyone make sure they were okay and assisted in giving a witness statement. I also went so far as to offer two of the victims a ride home. They were grateful and This Man was a hero for the night.
I'd almost forgot that it was Easter Sunday today. Went running around town only to discover that everything was closed, with the exception of Kmart so, my son D, This Man and L hung out in there just wasting time. Found the bicycle that I'm going to get.
My sister finally called me today and I spent about an hour on the phone with her, getting caught up on the Texas gossip. An old friend of ours passed away from doing too many drugs and he also had hepatitis. I couldn't believe it.
"So This Man, did you go to church today?" my sister asked.
"D, I don't go any other time so why should I be expected to go during this holiday." I responded.
That was the end of that religious discussion.
Sunday evening, I met up with DE again. His co-worker had flown back to the east coast so we hung out in his hotel room, talking and fooling around. I don't have to mention what ultimately happened. But This Man will say this, I'll be smiling all week.
Still on vacation for another week, it should be a good one.
And that's the weekend wrap up. 4 minutes. Now I have to go back and add the pictures.

Mahalo.

Perhaps it's about time to call him. If only just to say hello.

Mahalo

The profiles always have the same tired lines...
"Looking for someone to come to my place. The door will be open and you will find me spread eagle on the bed, waiting. Come in, get off and then leave..."
This Man just don't quite understand the whole anonymous rape scene. While I'm the first one to support role playing when it comes to sexual activities, that's one that just doesn't sit well with me.
You have one complete stranger, who for a brief moment is going to trust another complete stranger to walk into their place and into their bedroom and get it on. This Man can't possibly be the only person who sees this as a bit odd. But yet there are so many men (I'm not sure if women get into this one--perhaps because of the whole rape thing) who find this to be a turn on. And will ask anyone to participate in this ridiculous game.
Willingly raped. And here I was thinking that you couldn't rape the willing.
Just walk on in. This Man doesn't think so. But there have been times when I've been chatting online that I've been propositioned with this.
"Just come over, walk in (never mind the barking dogs) and come on up and then leave when you're done." This Man has concluded that the next time some stranger asks me to participate in that crazy deed, here's what I'm going to do instead of refusing. I'm going to call up a couple of sailor friends (the ones who are in the military as an alternative to going to jail) and we're going to rob the suspect.
Just imagine how that would play out to the cops.
Police: "You're saying you left the door open and some guy came in and robbed you."
Suspect: "Yes."
Police: "And where did you say you were again at the time of the crime?"
Suspect: " I was in my bedroom. I'd just gotten into the sling and I was waiting..."
Police: "Whom were you waiting for?"
Suspect: " Ummm...I don't know! He never told me his actual name, but his screenname was..."
Police: "So that would perhaps explain why you're only wearing a jockstrap, leather mask and socks?"
This Man is laughing as I type this but only because it sounds so ridiculous. Fortunately, I've never known anyone to get robbed while waiting for the "rape" to happen, but it's been bugging me that so many men (still not sure about the women) play into that whole hype scene. I know I would never have it in me to take anyone's personal property, I just can't begin to fathom giving that amount of trust to a total stranger. It's beyond This Man's thinking.
But you have to admit, when you read that little script that I've included, the shit does ring hilarious. Doesn't it?

Mahalo

Thankfully, This Man has been on leave for the past week, because earlier this week what I thought was a mild case of heartburn has turned out to be acid reflux. So two nights ago, around 3 a.m., This Man was strolling into Ralph's in my pajamas and flip flops, searching the aisles for some Prilosec OTC. This shit is killing me!
The bad thing is that, according to the package, the medicine will not take effect until about 14 days--I want relief now! Oh man, the pain is unbearable. My friend, L told me that I would never make it as a woman because I can't tolerate pain.

Hmmm, that's why it's called pain, right? And to think, This Man has been looking forward to taking a couple of weeks off from that ship and just relaxing and doing absolute nothing. Now, I'm laid up dealing with this crap. The rolling bouts of pain are enough to bring This Man to a complete halt until they subside.
But I know what started this whole thing. It was my late-night chicken quesadilla snacks.
I know, I know...it was bound to happen, but what could I do? You'd have to enjoy a chicken quesadilla from La Fuente to understand. I've decided that by tomorrow, if I'm not feeling better then I'll definitely be making a trip to the naval hospital, which if you've never been to a military hospital , is like a slow descent into purgatory.
So for the moment, it's This Man, some Prilosec, Tums, Maalox and a whole lotta water.
So much for enjoying my time off from work.

Mahalo

Up until now--well atleast from the time that I added the counter, This Man is so happy that I've had just over 500 people hit my small, yet modest blog. Thank you.
Nothing of interest to write about today so I'll blog about the picture that This Man decided to post along with this entry.
Earlier today, I was going through the list of blogs that I read daily (those listed as my favorites) and came across another page, created by Orbicon, in which he photographs peoples' medicine cabinets. No, I'm not going to copy his idea, but I did find it hilarious and it got me to thinking about what This Man's medicine cabinet is full of and what it says about my personality. And since I couldn't email the pic to him and I can't invite him to my place to photograph my medicine cabinet, This Man decided to put the pic here.
Thanks again, readers, for the 500+ hits.

Mahalo

This weekend was great! For once, I didn't spend the whole time laid up on the couch doing absolutely nothing (except Sunday night, but I had a bit of a stomach virus). Friday, This Man got home early and decided since it was a nice day out, why not get out and go play tourist in San Diego (even though I've lived here for over 5 years). So I grabbed my gear, jumped in my car and headed down to the waterfront to stroll around with the tourist. I had such a great time down at the Star of India, meeting and chatting with complete strangers that when it came time to guest blog from my best friend, that's what I wrote about.

Friday night was This Man heading over to The Brass Rail for Brown Suga night. I haven't been to The Rail in ages partially because there used to be so many fights when the bar was closing but it was refreshing to stop in. Even though the place is being taken over by lesbians, This Man still had a great time. And even when the heads turned when I was trying to make my way through the crowd, even though the bartender was flirting and showed it by mixing This Man drinks and charging me way less than what they normally went for, and even as I was leaving and the crowd of 4 men hooting and hollering at me, talking about, "Damn, you fine!" , This Man probably will not be back in that place for another couple of months. It's better, I've found, to enjoy The Rail every now and then instead of every Friday night. I met some awesome guys both there and at Denny's for afterhours and for once spent the night just chatting with complete strangers without feeling anxious. Spent most of Saturday morning hung over until the afternoon when it was time to go file the income tax. Granted, This Man will not be getting as much as I used to, it's nice to see that I am making more money that I used to. That's how it's supposed to go, right?
Sunday was spent running around with my son, D and L on the Marine base tending to errands that needed to be done. And that was it. I got word that a good friend whom I lost touch with briefly will be in town this week and I'm so anxious to see him, I have to keep pinching myself just to let myself know that it is indeed my reality.
And that's the Weekend WrapUp. All written in about 4 minutes without proofreading the text.


Mahalo.

Before This Man even begins with my weekend wrapup, let's give a round of applause to the guest blogger who stood in for me on Friday. The entry was written by my very best friend and I have to say, she did an outstanding job! I will definitely have to have her back at This Man's Life. As you all know, I guest blogged on her spot as well and it was kind of cool bringing my style of writing to her log (which is written in a totally different style). Anyone who has done a guest spot will understand what I mean. You can see my entry on her post here.
That's about it. This Man will be back on Sunday for what I'm now calling the Weekend WrapUp.

Mahalo

The guy I am seeing is currently unemployed, but wants to portray the heir he is this jet setting, trust fund baby who has nothing better to do with his days than fly to Vegas and gamble and bet on the college or professinal sports. Come on...I aint nobodies fool. This is the same guy who will only go out for drinks during happy hour. The same guy who buys one medium popcorn and one small(non diet) drink at the movies for sharing. I get a sprinkle or two of popcorn in the cardboard carrier they give you for carrying multiple snacks (he keeps the rest for himself)...Ugghhh. Everyday at 7:45, 12:14 and 5:00n he rings my cell to see how my morning, lunch and work day went. Any girl would think "ohhh he loves me, he wants to know what I am feeling every four hours. Bullshit. This guy is merely putting on heirs and attempting to play the "control" game. His only concern is that I am not waking up next to, having lunch with, or going to cocktails with anyone else. Everytime I ask him to hang out or catch a movie, he cant. He is on his way to LA, he is having work done on his home, his frat brothers are over watching the game, His BMW needs an oil changed, always something, and never anything simple, always something grand which indicates he is wealthy and oh so busy. I have been going round with these issues for about six months. We've been on his terms, on his schedule, keep in mind, he has not job, no children, no family, but we have to work around his lifestyle...hmmm...Let's see...I on the other hand balance a new job, an 8 year old, a home, along with my diet and loathing of my daily excercise, but I am available whenever he calls. Shall I allow this to continue. I think NOT!!!!! Finally after some coaching from This Man, and some soul searching on my end, I decided to end the madness. To call his bluff. I know for a fact he is not always on the go. I know for a fact all of his assets are controlled by his father and that "oh so care free lifestyle" is only as care free as his father will alow it to be. I know for a fact he is laying on his ass watching daytime television, and too lazy to get dressed when I call him to hang out. I've been unemployeed. I know how the game goes. You always end up in a rut. I am calling his bluff at every chance I get. I am not available unless I truly want to be. He hates the game I play now. If he is on his way to Vegas, I say hey I am already there, shall I meet you in the lobby of my hotel at 9? If he is watching the game with his frat brothers, I offer to bring over boy snacks and alcohol refreshers... Needless to say, calling his bluff worked. Suddenly his flight gets canceled and he will be going to Vegas the next week, I must surly be mistaken thinging he was thre now.... Shortly after our conversation the big game with his frat brothers is being moved to his homeboy's crib...you getting where this is going...you do...I knew you did...anyway....mad props to This Man...once again that witty zaney hunk of a blogger you've come to know and love was once again right....Diva has moved on...

Moral...when you are faced with someone who lies to you, call their bluff...when you get ready to tell that lie to boost your status, remember... "Truth is a deep kindness that teaches us to be content in our everyday life and share with the people the same happiness". Kahlil Gibran

This Man is happy to announce that on Friday, a guest blogger will be taking the helm and steering the next entry of This Man's Life. I'm so excited about it too. Don't worry it's a fellow blogger and one of my dearest friends.
I'm anxious to see how it turns out so stay tuned! It should be a good ride.

Mahalo

Yesterday while I was in the chair getting my hair cut, my barber and I were discussing the Michael Jackson case and where his fate lies. While Mr. Martinez and This Man both agreed that chances were slim that MiJac would serve any prison time, Mr. Martinez did point out that Jacko would spend a lot of money defending himself--even if the evidence pointed toward a guilty verdict. My barber also said that the real and only reason this case is being handled so delicately is because the accused is wealthy. But ultimately, Mr. Martinez concluded it always comes down to money, but he was quick to point out that money is not the root of happiness.
He said this line (and I quote), and I haven't forgotten it yet.
"Money doesn't change anything. Most people think that once you get a lot of money--your life gets better, but it doesn't. If a wino were to win a million dollars, he wouldn't be rich--he'd just be a million dollar wino."
And that, my friends, is the gospel.

Okay, it's not the god-awful dining room furniture or bottles of cheap liquor displayed on the serving cart. Pay no mind to the Fingerhut candle holders or the hideous furniture in the living room. And the color on the walls of the dining room--Oy, but this isn't about that. Nor is it about that dirty area rug under the dining room table.
Just when you think that this room screams of a complete renovation, This Man has to direct your eyes to the reflection in the mirror (and yes, I know that mirror is ugly enough to make a person ralph, but that's not the issue). As you can see, the man who decided to photograph the room failed to put on some clothes so all of his business is on display--and believe me, it's nothing to photograph.

Mahalo

This Man is convinced that in order for a man to work in the Mens' sportwear department at Neiman-Marcus*, he has to master the art of flirting with all of the male clientele thereby increasing sales and leaving the victim flaccid in the wallet but walking with more of a strut when he leaves the store with a bunch of items that he didn't need. I bring this up because today, while browsing the latest menswear (particularly the 7 Jeans, if you must know), I partook in this conversation with the predator--um, salesguy.
Salesguy/Predator: "I see you're already sporting the new Seven A pockets."
This Man: "Oh yeah, had to have them, you know how it is."
I was thinking, "Thanks for checking out my ass!"
Salesguy/Predator: "Did you buy them here?"
This Man: "No, I got them across the way at Nordstrom."
Salesguy/Predator: (gasps), "You cheated on me! Oh no!"
But this salesguy/predator smelled a comission because he responded with...
Salesguy: "But check these out. With your nice build, I know they would look great on you."
And to think This Man almost fell for it--until reality kicked in and I saw that Marcus Schenkenberg lookalike for who he really was.
A wolf in a Prada suit.
Just as I was about to strike up a deal with him (meaning, I'd buy the jeans in exchange for his phone number) , my eyes gazed across the floor and I saw another salesguy using similar skills on an unsuspecting 60 year old.
Other than that little incident, of which I had to share in order to get it out of my head, today turned out to be great. I ended up spending the evening downtown, in the chair of my barber for my bi-weekly haircut. Even though it was the early part of the week, it still somehow ended up being damn near 4 hours before I left downtown and returned home; groomed, albeit exhausted.
I have duty tomorrow for the last time before my two week leave so rather than make this entry verbose, This Man is going to wrap it up and call it a night.


*(the same can be said for those pretty-boys at Abercrombie & Fitch, however Nordstrom marches to a different drum and employs old, senior-citizens--atleast when This Man comes around.)
Mahalo

Today, just a few minutes after sunset, L, This Man and my son, D took a stroll down to Sunset Cliffs in Ocean Beach, CA. And while I wasn't able to get any pictures of the sun setting on the Pacific, I did see beauty in other pieces of the eccentric beach town.


Mahalo

OMG, I can't believe A_diva_in_red decided to put This Man on blast! And all because I didn't put a clock on her blog just as she asked me.
Well, I'll tell you what, Miss Thing...if you'll look to the right on your page...
You see that clock right there?
You're Welcome.
LMAO!
You're fantastic, Diva.


Mahalo!

This evening, had I followed my instincts...
Had I listened to my gut...
If only I'd listened when L told me to just cancel...
Then This Man wouldn't be sitting just at 11:46pm pounding away on this keyboard, in an attempt to release the anger and frustration brought on by my meeting with WX.
I'll replay the evening. As I'd mentioned previously, WX is a friend of a friend's and he'd been in San Diego for just over a year now. He and I met initially while chatting in the San Diego room on Gay.com.
We chatted off and on but never set an actual time when we would get together and meet one another in public. Neither one of us could make the time to set up the date. In the meantime, This Man continued to chat with him and correspond by email and voice mail. Until tonight.
I' d received an email from WsrcX this week, saying that we should get together for a drink some time during the week; nothing fancy just getting together to finally meet each other in person.
It seemed harmless enough, so I agreed. We settled on tonight.
And that's where everything went wrong.
I spoke to WX early in the evening and we agreed to meet at Bacchus House around 10 p.m. for Latin Night. Since I didn't have to work tomorrow, I figured "what could be the harm".
I would soon find out.
The first sign that I shouldn't have left the comforts of my house was my awful stomach ache.
L had prepared some penne rigate (complete with beef and tomato sauce, and This Man practically drowned it in olive oil), that was so heavy that you could've anchored an aircraft carrier with it. So after polishing off a meal like that, This Man wanted nothing more than to take a Maalox and call it a night.
But reluctantly I went to meet WX because I didn't want to flake out on him and to tell the truth, I was a bit curious to meet him. So with more effort than normally required, I dragged myself upstairs to get dressed. I was supposed to meet him at 10 when in fact, This Man didn't leave the house until after 10.
Nevertheless, I finally arrive close to 10:30. When I walked into Bacchus, I spotted WX immediately (possibly because he was the only gringo in a room full of Latinos). I put on the best smile that I could muster and even I wasn't convinced that I was happy to see him. While having my first drink (he had to have been on his 8th--and was still running a tab) we, more like he, chit chatted. Since I was barely in the moment, I'll list some of the key words that I heard from his portion of the dialogue.
"I...I...me...I'm...business for myself...not like Amway...I want to be rich...I know a lot of people in here...just want to take care of my parents...love the military...I...I...I used to date that guy...want another drink...I...I..."
And on and on just like that it went. But that's not the half of it. Just as I was about to conclude that perhaps he was a bit drunk and maybe nervous, he introduces me to one of his exes, a guy who instantly was looking at me with suspicion. But This Man is cordial, and I attempted to shake hands and say hello. But what do I get in return, a limp grasp and a bitter stare.
This Man certainly wasn't in the mood for this--and I didn't have to take it!
Throughout the hour that I was with WX, his ex came past us, eyeing me suspiciously each time until even I was sick of seeing him. All the while, WX is enjoying it. Instantly, I started planning my escape. Here's why.
In the back of the club there's a dance floor and apparently there was to be a drag show. Let me tell you about This Man and drag queens. I loathe them! I fear them the way some people fear clowns (dramatic, I know, but you get the point). When I tell WX this, what does he do...suggest we go back there and see the show! To stress my point and to make sure that he understood me, I looked him dead in the eyes and said seriously, "NO!" It wasn't funny to me at all.
This get together was not looking good and I was get angrier by the second, so angry that when the straight couple, who were dancing to salsa stepped on my foot, I pushed them with more force than the situation required. WX noticed; he was supposed to.
The final straw came when after listening to him go on and on and continue to pressure me to drink with him, he finally suggested that I accompany him to the bathroom, to which I responded, "We're not girls and you know where it is." He argued that he wouldn't be able to find me once he returned and I told him that I would be outside smoking. When he took off, so did I.
I started in front of the club, but at that moment I learned something about myself. I didn't deserve this. WX was not the type of person that I wanted to associate myself with. And while This Man certainly can't tell you what I'm looking for in a potential partner or friend, I can tell you what I'm not looking for. And that's men like him.
As I was driving away from that place, smoking my cigarette with more effort than required, I couldn't help but wonder if I had been a bit unfair in my judgment of him. But I had to conclude that I was more than fair. WX presented himself the way he wanted This Man to see him; a drunken, loudmouthed, touchy-feely drama queen.
And to tell the truth, This Man deserves better.

Mahalo

So since I've been back in San Diego, it was only a matter of time before This Man logged back onto Gay.com!
You would think that after months of being away from people only identified by screen names such as LostinSD, hkup4now, gymstud4u and on and on, it would be easy to reinter the daily norm without having to consult these electronic people for conversation, consolation, advice and even humor.
But understand, This Man has been on Gay.com for almost 4 years now and I have to admit, I've met some of the most off the wall characters, chatted with some deranged human beings and laughed with some of the most humorous people ever!
So why would I give that up?
After giving my own profile a once over, This Man realized that it was definitely time for a brief makeover and some more updated pictures. I feel like, my profile while it does capture a small morsel of the complexity that is This Man, no one can ever really know what I'm all about unless either we chat or we chat and decide to meet in person. So armed with my Canon A75, This Man set about taking a couple of self pictures that would best capture what I think is how I would like to present myself to potential chat friends, buddies and even those bold enough to suggest getting together.
And wouldn't you know it, I couldn't have been more on the mark!
Since uploading my latest batch of photographs, I've spent evening chatting with men, who have actually taken the time to not only gaze at my pics, but have read my verbose profile. Even my regular chat friends, whom I've often chatted with but have never met had some interesting comments to say. It was almost like the day a woman has her breasts enlarged and the moment she leaves the doctor's office, she meets a million hot men! This was enough for This Man to become a bit self-absorbed and arrogant (two traits of which I'm not and shall never be).
Nevertheless, I'm still the same old clown who enjoys just chatting with people without having to suffer from an anxiety attack at the thought of having to say hello...as long as my computer separates us. And I can't help but think of the proclamation that I made to my friend, S when we were in Southwest Asia. This Man was going to get out, go on dates and accept invitations when someone invites me for coffee.
And the offers have been coming in steadily. You can see my profile here.

Mahalo

Let me touch base, more like continue on from yesterday's entry and tell you about the evening, once This Man had gotten home and settled in. Well actually it was more like, ran upstairs and dumped my bags into my closet (don't worry, I have OCD and believe me, I would tackle that issue later) and it was out into the streets as only L, D and This Man could do it! We had so much fun...breakfast and then a mad dash to Starbucks (because they don't have non-fat, white chocolate mochas in Asia--and This Man needed a fix). D was trying to get me caught up on all that was going on with him at school and in his daily life. And while he doesn't notice it, This Man can certainly see that he has indeed gotten taller and he's no longer the baby that I insist on believing that he is.
Later on that evening, J returned my phone call and invited me to meet with him for drinks at Bourbon Street and some sex afterwards. This Man wasn't about to pass up an offer like that!
I met up with J around 9, almost 10, and I have to admit, I was genuinely excited to see him. He was standing around with two of his friends, but once I showed up they took off which did matter any to me because I couldn't keep my hands off of J. I hugged him as if I truly missed him. I kissed him as if I truly missed him. So is it safe to say, could it be possible that perhaps, maybe...I missed J a lot more than I thought I did?
Anyhow, we sat around with drinking and talking about everything from Indonesia, travelling to Palm Springs on weekend, Beyonce', his job, how I felt being back in San Diego and on and on. And then the conversation switched to the big E word. Becoming exclusive.
Becoming exclusive!!!!
And This Man wasn't even drunk yet! Not only that, but I thought in the past whenever J and I would have this conversation (and for the record, after sex is not the best time to talk about becoming exclusive--with anyone), I would always stress to him that I was not looking to settle down with any one person. I was certain that he understood that. But I have to give him snaps because he brought the conversation up beforehand so I could atleast focus. Here's the conversation went...
JC: "So are you exclusive now?"
This Man: "Exclusive? No. What about you, have you managed to steal some guy's heart yet?"
JC: "No, I'm single and I'm happier this way. "
This Man: "Good for you! Keep your options open, huh?"
Then he flipped the script. Read on...
JC: "But if there was anyone I would want to get exclusive with, it would have to be you. "
This Man: "Awe, you're too kind. But you know where I stand-- "
JC: "I know, I know. You don't want to settle down. I was just saying if..."
This Man: (sighs)
JC: "But I'm happy with us being two men who enjoy each being with each other and having a great time."
This Man: "Yeah, me too."
JC: "But being exclusive--"
This Man: "Let's just enjoy what you and I have and leave it at that."
You have to admit, it almost could've worked! Fortunately, I'd only had one drink and I was aware of my surroundings so I wasn't getting swindled into something that I didn't want.
Needless to say, we were at Bourbon Street for about an hour, pawing all over each other. We were that one couple that you hate to see out in public. You know, the ones who can't keep their hands off of each other. That was our cue to leave. To the motel (it was so cheap--yet a turn on) we went. Now here's the distracting part. The whole time I was driving us to our destination all I could think about was the email that I'd received from J when This Man was in Indonesia. It read, "Can I be the first when you get back?" Well I certainly knew what he was referring to and I was kind of flattered, so I responded back with, "Of course you can be the first."
The only problem with that is, I received that same email from a couple of other guys that I'd been seeing before we left. So like a man with a rubber stamp, I sent the same response to all of them.
Of course, you can be the first.
Ironically, J was the first. This is getting scary.

Mahalo