You think your life is fucked up? Try living a piece of mine.



Grey

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This Man found it this morning.

I was at work. In the bathroom, checking myself out before heading back out to see what everyone else what doing and that's when I spotted it. It's about two inches above my left ear.
A grey hair.
At first This Man thought it was merely the sunlight coming through the window and casting a reflection on my head. When I looked closer, I thought it was a piece of thread. Only when I began to pull on it, that's when I realized that it was attached to my head.
I couldn't even pull it out! ARGH!
And the crazy part is, it's not even the first grey hair that I grown. L used to tell me all of the time that I had a few of them in the back of my head near the center, but I paid that no mind. But to spot one myself, This Man was, for a brief moment, shocked.
I'm getting older. I suppose it's better that I find it in my head than down below.
Thankfully, I'm going to see my barber tomorrow.
Mahalo


Something to Remember

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One year ago today, This Man started a humble blog merely as an outlet for the voices in my head. I'm still amazed that I've managed to continue blogging even when there were times that I just wanted to lay the whole idea of blogging to rest.
One year ago today, I was onboard my favorite warship, enjoying a brief port visit (and what would be my last time there) in Hong Kong. Blogging became a source of entertainment for me. I was interested in what others had to blog about as well as what I would actually blog about.
One year ago today, I was missing my family. But the deployment was supposed to be brief and it would've been just a matter of time before I was home with them again. Had we been able to forsee the natural disaster that would occur two days later then I would've been more prepared to settle in for the extended stay overseas.
That's right, it's the one year anniversary of This Man's Life! I can't believe I made it this far! I kept telling myself that I would go back and read all of my entries if only just to see if my writing style had improved any. But for some reason, I'm afraid to only because I know This Man and how he operates and I would probably go back and start proofreading and correcting and possibly even giving myself grades on my writing style.
Since I don't plan to dwell too much on the past, I will give a brief overview of all that has been covered in my small blog.
  • the countless stories of life in today's Navy's all covered while onboard my favorite Arleigh Burke class guided missile destroyer.
  • the anticipation of getting back to San Diego after being extended in the Indian Ocean during the tsunami.
  • finally returning to San Diego.
  • falling in what I thought was love.
  • professing my love for a few men in my life
  • getting dumped a few times
  • getting my heart broken
  • breaking a few hearts
  • transferring to shore duty
  • finally getting a social life in San Diego
  • going on dates (finally)
  • met some fellow bloggers
The list goes on and on. It's amazing. I guess all I can really say is, I'll plan to keep blogging until there's absolutely nothing else that I could possibly blog about and only then will I lay it to rest.
Hopefully my writing gets better and the voice that I'm desperately trying to find continues to get clearer. The changes that I made to the look of my blog were good, now it's time to work on the content. The first year is over. Now it's definitely time to capture more tidbits of This Man's Life. You may need to sign a waiver.

Mahalo


House Arrest

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Christmas at the home of This Man was not your average wake up, run downstairs and marvel at the gifts stacked under the tree. No, Christmas at my house was everything but sweet scents filling the house and presents being opened with care. There was no big dinner with millions of desserts and even as I blog, I can't recall what I ate--if I even ate at all!
Here's how Christmas at my house played out. I woke up around 5:30 a.m and with a great amount of effort, managed to pull myself up, get dressed and drive down to Naval Station San Diego. You see, I had duty, but don't be alarmed because this wasn't typical-24 hour duty. I was expected to be on duty for approximately 1 hour.
1 Hour!
So I got to work just before 7 o'clock, mustered and commenced to throughly clean and empty building. That's right--EMPTY!
With two other pissed off sailors, we cleaned the building only to be told afterwards to go outside and sweep the adjacent parking lot. Yeah, you don't have to tell This Man how ridiculous that was. Finally, just after 8 o'clock, This Man was back on the road and headed home. By then, my son, D had opened all of his gifts and desribed them all to me while This Man changed back into my pajamas. After sleeping way into the mid afternoon, my son, anxious to go outside and play with his buddies took off leaving me restless and bored. Suddenly I was tired of being in the house but with everything being closed, safe for Denny's, the grocery store & perhaps Starbucks down the street from my house, what was there possibly for me to get into?
A buddy of mine sent me a message online, asking were there any bars open and if there were would I be up for hanging out and having some drinks. Thank goodness for Hamburger Mary's!
As it turned out, there was quite a few guys out and about, all tired of being forced to stay at home on "house arrest" which I've come to think of Christmas as. I met up with him and another handsome fella and ended up hanging at Mary's for most of the evening. As it turned out, DB was home alone and sent me a text message, checking to see what I was up to. He ended up coming down to hang out as well. I ended up staying at the bar with DB and the new guy TJ and having a Mantastic time so fun in fact that the next time I realized the time, it was almost midnight (and I got to Mary's at 5 o'clock)! Once the crowd took off, DB and I went to Denny's, had some warm tea and talked before finally calling it a night.
Once back home, I got to thinking about Christmas and when had it become House Arrest. I mean, I almost dread the holiday, knowing that I'll be stuck in the house all day with no means of escape and god forbid, there's company in town--ARGH, that makes it that much more difficult to handle.

Mahalo & Happy Holidays


Navy Times

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Last night, This Man was going through the list of blogs that I like to read and I happened to come across Overheard in New York. That blog has snippets of randoms conversations heard throughout the city and they're so hilarious that This Man decided that I would take a shot and record some pieces of dialogue that I happened to hear throughout my day at work.
I have to mention, that being around sailors all day, one can hear some pretty interesting stuff. Some of it, I just want to interrupt and add my own two cents and others I have to walk away, holding in the laughter. Since it is the military and we're not allowed to have any types of recording devices anywhere, This Man was going to have to rely on my memory and my trusty will book to document the conversations. The first, I overheard while outside having a smoke. Two guys were discussing one dude's girlfriend. Here's what happened...

Sailor One: Man, last night Trish came over and gave me the best head!
Sailor Two: (inhaling his cigarette) I thought you were gonna get rid of her.
Sailor One: So did I! But after last night, I'm thinking I may just keep her around if only for her sucking skills.
Sailor Two: (laughing & coughing) Awww, man that's fucked up!
Sailor One: What would you do?
Sailor Two: (stubbed out his cigarette) Probably the same thing.

Two hours later, This Man was passing across the quarterdeck and heard this one. One guy on staff was trying to familiarize himself with the hot areas in San Diego. Two other sailors were trying to help him out.

Sailor One: So where are the happening spots in this town. I feel like doing some shit tonight.
Sailor Two: Whatever you do, don't go to Hillcrest (the gay neighborhood).
Sailor One: What's going on over there?
Sailor Two: It's nothing but faggots running around, holding hands and shit. Even the sign has a bunch of rainbow colors on it.
Sailor One: Oh FUCK THAT!
Sailor Two: Yeah, that's what I'm saying.
Sailor Three: (finally looks up from his work) Say dawg, you sure know a lot about Hillcrest, don't you?
Sailor Two: Well...my girl likes going over there.
Sailor One: Yeah, of course she does!

And how could This Man forget about the two women who were sitting in the lounge. I was merely passing through and overheard these two talking. The first girl was (she was pregnant) rubbing her stomach. They were staring at the TV screen.

Sailor One: I don't care if he has the money or not, but that nigga betta get me a bomb ass gift for Christmas.
Sailor Two: But girl, you just said that you didn't get him anything.
Sailor One: It ain't about what I got for him--this is about what he better have for me! Hell, this baby is his damned Christmas gift.

Mahalo


Winners that Lose

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I suppose waking up early this morning, after having only 3 hours of sleep would be enough to make any man crazy. For This Man, I had to be up, literally, at the crack of dawn because it was the first day of regional playoffs for my son's soccer team. So shortly before 6:30, we set out for San Marcos, CA up in the north part of San Diego county. It was frigid out, and the fact that L hadn't had breakfast and This Man hadn't had my morning cigarette, it was best and recommended that we ride in complete silence during the 30 minute drive. As for D, he was in the back seat, engrossed in yet another one of his Gameboy video games. My son's team was scheduled to play two games that morning, however the most important one would be the first seeing as it would determine whether there would be a second game. The team currently held a 15-0 record and I have to admit, it was easy to get caught up in their cockiness. However, the team that they were to play today was equally skilled and just as aggressive. Even the parents, on the sidelines were nervous. The two teams went head to head and it wasn't until just before half time before the first goal was scored. 1-0. Ultimately the team from Tierrasanta, CA managed to score, locking up the game. It wasn't until they scored another goal early into the 4th quarter that This Man was able to observe, not only my son, but his teammates' spirit starting to diminish. Finally, with a score of 2-1, the undefeated team from Kearny Mesa had succombed to being beat for the first time this season.
They were devasted.
This Man had never seen so many 9 year old boys display raw emotion. While us parents were proud of them, they were disappointed in themselves. There was nothing that any of us could say that could stop the flow of tears. It was at that moment that L and This Man realized that it wasn't about the fact that we'd gotten up at 6 this morning to bring D to play. It wasn't about the fact that it was just below 50 degrees outside. And it wasn't about the fact that they wouldn't be advancing on in the playoffs. At that moment, those boys cried, screamed and stormed off because they'd failed themselves.
On the drive back down to San Diego, This Man and L just kinda let the silence linger because the last thing, I'm sure the last thing, D wanted to hear at that moment was how it was clear that he'd given 110% and yet they'd lost.
In other news, we finally got the Christ mas tree put up. After some serious deliberations on whether to put it in the living room or the den, it finally went up in the den. The house is looking festive (in a tasteful way--but certainly not over the top). The more I look at the tree whenever This Man is at the workstation, it kinda reminds me of Little House on the Prairie, seeing as it's about 2 steps from the kitchen. Nevertheless, I guess now I should work on getting in the holiday spirit.

Mahalo.


Partying in Point Loma

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As you can see, the new look of This Man's Life is starting to take shape and I have to admit, I'm actually kind of impressed by it. Granted, I finally got the header completed this morning all while a bit woozy from all of the wine that I drank last night at the Christmas party that I went to with my best friend, L. But it was kinda cool though, I woke up this morning around 4:30 and had suddenly figured out how I would do the header--what you see is the final product.
So last night, This Man and L went to her office's Christmas party, held at one of her manager's beautiful home up in the hills of Point Loma. It was crazy trying to navigate our way through the dark streets (I mean, rich people really hate the concept of street lights) , but it wasn't until I pulled the car over and actually studied the map that This Man realized that I did, in fact, know exactly how to get us to the location. A few minutes later, we were mingling with some of the more prominent doctors of San Diego County. The guests were all nice, but This Man found the party to be slightly still, but thanks to the abundant supply of wine, I'd attacked that liquor table like an alcoholic at the Last Supper! All in all, I had a great time. It wasn't like being surrounded by men, drinking pitchers of beer at the Hole (which by the way, was about 3 miles down the road), but sitting by the pit fire on a clear San Diego night can't be beat either.

Mahalo


Under Construction

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So I'm in the process of changing the look of This Man's Life. Bear with me as I have no experience in creating a blog template from scratch and I'm trying to get everything in place in time for my 1 year anniversary of blogging.
Don't worry, I'm still posting. The page just looks a bit incomplete. Oh yeah, if anyone knows how to create a header--hit me up.
If all else fails, I'll just return to the original look.

Mahalo


Married...with Children

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This evening, after stopping in at Hamburger Mary's for a couple of beers, This Man found myself at a spaghetti dinner hosted by my son's after school program. Don't be alarmed, I wasn't drunk nor did I have anywhere near a buzz that would've been needed to make it through that program. However, I did manage to pull myself together and once again morph back into the responsible father that I'm supposed to be whenever I'm at his elementary school. The spaghetti was bland (one would think for a fin the food could've been somewhat tasteful) and I left there even more hungry than when I showed up. I'm still not sure whether or not D actually wanted me there because once I showed up, he said hello and disappeared into the crowd of his Ritalin-fueled buddies, leaving me to fend for myself.
So what's a man to do, right?
Rather than mingle with the other parents, This Man found a table at the back and decided to check out the fathers. And I have to say, there were some cuties in that cafeteria! Unfortunately, for This Man, so were their wives--and other children. Ain't that a bitch!
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Two hours of listening to a bunch of children mumble their way through some Christmas carols, a plate of bland spaghetti and not a drop of alcohol within a 2 mile radius, This Man settled in to the fact that sometimes I have allow myself to be tortured for my son's sake. I mean, he may not appreciate it now, but I'm pretty sure a few years down the line, he'll recall my being there.

(photo of This Man taken by my son)
Mahalo


Booty & Books

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There's nothing like a late afternoon romp with a buddy--especially when, for This Man, that buddy is as hot as my friend, P. But even after rolling around for close to two hours and finally laying around, spent and getting caught up on what's been going on with both of us, I think the most interesting part of the afternoon with him was when we started talking about books. As I was getting dressed, I couldn't help but notice the vast collection of books on his bookshelf. There was everything from Augusten Burroughs, Ronald Dahl, Kurt Vonnegaut, Jr and a few French philosphers. This Man was more than impressed! Finally, here was a booty buddy that was into books also.
So we stood around discussing the books of Burroughs and exchanging information on authors that the other should check out. He was hardcore--some of the books that he owned were first edition copies. Wow! It was a mantastic afternoon, if I say so myself.
Smells like a keeper, right?

Meanwhile, I had the unfortunate privilege of breaking the heart of a good guy who This Man just didn't want to date. I mean, when given the choice of being friends, buddies who screw each other or dating, This Man will always choose the former. I mean, I know eventually there's going to come a time when I want to settle down and meet a nice man and sweep him off of his feet, however in the here and now, I'm comfortable with going out on a couple of dates, having great sex all while keeping my options open (what can I say, I love variety). Things with JS and I had, after six months of separation, picked up at such a rapid pace, This Man was afraid of slamming into a wall.
I mean, pump the brakes...pump the brakes!
Well a couple of nights ago, I get this super long email from JS and in this email he goes on to mention what he thinks a friendship should be. Granted, I enjoy being around him, I enjoy talking with him and I like chatting online with him--he's an all around nice man. And while the sex is phenominal and the conversation is along my level, I just don't see him as the guy that I would want to date, however, I do treasure his friendship. All this being said and him basically professing to having feelings for me, This Man was forced into a situation that I'd been in before.
When forced to choose, do I choose the sex without the relationship, the friendship without the sex or a relationship that's not guaranteed? And what if This Man were to choose the relationship and it failed--do I loose the friendship also? Or do I take the risk and pray that the friendship doesn't become bitter-filled? The whole situation was very familiar to me because only a few months ago, This Man was in the exact same situation with The Dutchman after I'd professed to having feeling for him only to have him go back to his ex-boyfriend, then to turn around and attempt to recreate what we had previously. Ultimately, we ended up settling for being friends and so far that's working out. So that's why, just to be safe, when forced to gamble, This Man takes the safe route and chooses the friendship.
Friendships last longer and only get better with time and that security makes it worth the gamble.

Mahalo.


Booze, pool & America's Next Top Model

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Even as This Man sits here at my desk with a glass of Yellow Tail Shiraz (simply my favorite) , trying to figure out how best to blog about my evening with my new buddy, DB, I can't help but smile and think that just as I was about to write him off as a guy that I had absolutely nothing in common with, it turns out we have several things in common.
I met DB online and we'd exchange a few brief messages before and that was about it. I thought he was very nice looking and his profile seemed interesting enough. He was looking for some cool, down to earth men to hang out with and hopefully form a friendship. Whereas This Man was a bit down to earth and didn't have too many friends to begin with. A couple of nights ago, we were sending instant messages to each other and agreed to hang out Thursday evening. Once committed, This Man had no idea what we could do. He was into movies and playing video games whereas I rarely went to the movies (the last movie This Man saw was The Fantastic Four--it sucked) and I hated video games. I suggested bike riding or playing tennis, but he didn't own a bike and wasn't too sure about tennis. The happy medium, we both like to play pool--even though we both said we could barely play (he would later beat me).
Thursday night, we met for drinks and decided that we would figure out what to do from there. Come to find out, he was really interesting and nice. Did I mention that he was in the military also? So of course, we exchanged crazy stories. Before I knew it, it was damn near midnight.
Next venue, Numbers--we introduced each other to some of our buddies, had drinks and This Man ended up getting my ass beat at pool. Nevertheless, I was having a great time with this guy. And come to find out, like me, he was a big fan of America's Next Top Model. Whereas, guy would normally talk about sports, Maxim magazine, silly jokes or the like, we got into a discussion about who was going to win on the reality series! Don't be alarmed, we were in a gay bar so it was all good.
We agreed that we would see each other again and I'm certainly hoping that we do. It's been a while since This Man has actually hung out with a guy that was so amazing and fun that even I was amazed when I was able to relax and actually be myself.
Can't wait to see him again.

Mahalo


Gossip

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Whenever This Man is chatting online and whenever I'm chatting with someone about something that's interesting then I'll usually save a transcript of the session. I usually do this under the impression that someday, This Man will need those documents either to catch someone in a lie or to save my own ass.
I had the conversation below with a buddy of mine on Gay.com. Because it's raw chattage at best, I did go through and edit some and change the name of the guy that I was chatting with. Only when I went back and read it, did This Man see the humor within the devious conversation. Also, I cropped off the beginning (don't worry, it wasn't important)because we were gossiping about another guy before changing the subject. In this transcript, I am "Heathboy27".

Heathboy27» so he's on a fitness kick now?
«Heathboy27» amazing!
«Heathboy27» hey, I need your help
«SevenDeadHookers» ok
«Heathboy27» okay, so say there's this hot, sexy ass muscle brotha that's in town from Sacramento, right
«Heathboy27» well, apparently he told one of your closest buds that he would meet up with him once he got to town
«SevenDeadHookers» mine?
«Heathboy27» so the buddy's all excited and bragging about it because the man is hot
«Heathboy27» hypothetically, Steve...keep up
«SevenDeadHookers» ooh..
«SevenDeadHookers» lol
«Heathboy27» then tonight, the guy sends you a message on Adam and tells you that
if you don't stay at Flicks too long to stop by his hotel room to "kick it"

«Heathboy27» and gives you the number and everything
«Heathboy27» so here's the question...if you were in that situation, what would you do AND would you tell your buddy about it?
«SevenDeadHookers» well... the guy visiting is a tramp... so he wont' say anything.. tap it.. pretend you never met him
«Heathboy27» thanks for co-signing
«Heathboy27» that's what I planned to do
«SevenDeadHookers» lol

Place your bets! What do you think This Man did?

Mahalo


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  • I'm THATGUY_HEATH
  • From San Diego, California, United States
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