Traveling and Why I’ve Been Absent

We’ve been in Chicago since last Thursday and the internets here have been intermittent and sometimes completely absent.  There’s something funny about being subject to the rules of nature in thunderstorms, such as power outages and loss of network connectivity. 

We’ve had a good time with family.  Except for a resurgence with stomach acid, which I’m sure has had nothing to do with the alcohol or acidic food I’ve been eating, I’ve been faboo.  Let’s just say that I don’t dare go to bed without taking little magic pills for acid. 

Highlight of the trip so far was watching “Raging Planet” on the Discovery channel – an episode on tornados.  It coincided with the real life storm warning and tornado watch here – it’s the first I’ve ever been through.  I feel scarred from living through the movie Twister too many times because I always internally duck at the image of flying cows.  No such luck with this though – it was just a wimpy thunderstorm. 

We fly home tomorrow.  I can’t wait to be back home and sleeping in my own bed again.  Hugs to all ya’ll.

Menu Addendum

As seen on a menu’s addendum in Kalispell:  the Senility Prayer

Grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway, the good fortune to run into the ones I do, and the eyesight to know the difference.

No matter where we travel or what day of the week – I do know I like my breakfasts.  Here’s to huckleberry and marionberry syrups.

Oh - here’s yesterday, at Glacier Nat’l Park:

Me, Midas, TLC's Pussy Cap, and Glacier Nat'l Park

On Family, Friends, and Weddings

The trip was eventful, memorable, and relaxing.  I drank more in several days than the last few months combined.  As I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older, there are limits on the things that can be done when returning home.  (Yes folks, you heard me say it – I do consider Utah my home – one of them, any way.)  It’s impossible to see everyone, whether they are friends or family or both.  It’s frustrating for everyone but that’s the reality.  The times I’ve come in “under the radar” are for very specific reasons, and I’ll leave it at that in case anyone makes me responsible for their one feeling getting run over.

Julz’ wedding was beautiful.  There was a thunderstorm earlier in the day, but as Utah weather goes, it blew in and out quickly.  The officiate was eloquent and I love how she informed those in attendance how Julz and Bill met and how they came to know and love one another.  Call me a sucker for guys crying, but seeing how Bill openly loved Julz really moved me.  They both looked splendid – glowing – alive.  Once the ceremony was over,there was time for photographs, meeting people, talking, excellent food, alcohol, more alcohol, dancing, more dancing, more alcohol, more dancing.  Somewhere in the evening I gave a toast to the lovely couple.  The toast went something like this:

“Hi everyone, I’m Don, Julie’s gentleman of honor, not her bridesmaid, because I’m not wearing a dress, so get over it.  I met Bill 20 months ago at a New Years Eve party, and since then I’ve had the chance to get to know him and his wonderful family.  I’ve known Julie since the early 90’s when we worked and went to school together at Westminster and travelled to Greece and drank lots and lots of wine together.  (And I realize now that I neglected to mention her own wonderful family, specifically her mother and sister, Kim.  No idea how I segued into it, but… then I said…)  There are families that we’re born to.  There are friends that we choose into our lives.  What is magical is when the friends we choose become family, which is what Julie and Bill are to me.”

Don at ceremony

Fantastic public speaker I’m not, but I got a few points for poise, a hot tux, and a receptive (alcohol enhanced) audience.

Bella Luna

The conference ended at noon and I walked around the gas lamp district. I know a Marlene Dietrich moment of vanting to be alone when it hits me. Peopled out, I say, and I listen to all the voices when I talk to myself. (Self, I vant to be alone.)

The idea of pomegranate chicken for lunch was in my head, but none of the Mediterranean places I passed had it on their lunch menu. I followed my feet around the gas lamp and found myself in front of an Italian place, Bella Luna, checking out the menu. I was checking out the host, too, because he walked funny. I thought he walked like a guy wearing heels, but his shoes were black, low-heeled loafers. (Stop, I’m NOT inferring or implying his being “light in his loafers” even though he was – hello, family greeting family – not an unusual happenstance.) Thoughts of pomegranate chicken vanished in the wake of the ricotta spinach ravioli in a vodka cream sauce… and with images of a man with a curious stride. The lunch hour had long gone by the time I’d found this place and was seated. A few tables had customers, but very soon I had the whole place to myself.

Andreas Bocelli seems standard at most Italian restaurants. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a personal weakness of mine, regardless of his international air wave saturation. The man could make angels weep, and here I was with a place to myself enjoying his music and duets with other artists and I didn’t worry about the tears at the corners of my eyes (in no way am I inferring a similarity with angels, btw).

I splurged on a glass of wine before and after dinner (that’s two nicely filled glasses, total). The mystery of the man with the loafers resolved itself because I heard him say his shoes were too big. I get that, I mean, the moment I put on shoes that were too big I would automatically continue to wear them. The server, Paul, told me his life story between being seated and receiving the tab. I don’t know the meaning, if there is one, other than a lunch I could have done a face plant into, wine so buttery and smooth I wanted to lick inside the empty glass, and random company of people and stories that helped me inform my own.

One Day Left to the Conference

We got in on Saturday evening and we had dinner at a great Mexican restaurant with killer margaritas. Since then, I’ve left the hotel once, which was last night for dinner with some former co-workers. Sunday: finalize presentation with my co-presenter, finalize narrative for Tuesday’s two-hour session, then opening social and drinking almost pure vodka most of the night.

Monday morning, I get up and don’t spring back from a night of drinking as well as I would have 10 years ago. In fact, I had the shakes until about 11:00am, but no nausea, thank you very much. Monday night (last night) – Italian dinner with one glass of wine and sleeping by midnight.

Tuesday, today: up at 6:15 for my 7:00 “coffee talk” panel session. Surprise! I was wide awake and coherent, and I even looked slightly cute with a minor faux-hawk, black silk shirt, black shoes, and jeans. 8:00am was the start of the two-hour session, which turned out well. Noon – the service awards and “business” lunch and I picked up another nat’l award – go me! Afternoon sessions and networking, and I got 9 prospects for the 5 open positions on a team I’ll be chairing next year. The last hour I took a nap and now I’m debating a big juicy cheeseburger from the hotel pub before hitting the 7:00pm meeting to deconstruct and go over this year’s conference results. 8:00pm – party party party until the music stops at midnight tonight. I have to be reasonable with the alcohol intake, because I have another god.damn.fucking.early “coffee talk” tomorrow morning at 7:00am.

Oh. Seasons. I have most of XIV, but I want feedback on the draft before I post. Sorry. I’m having writing anxiety and I need some strokes.

Speaking of strokes. I am remembering, vividly, why I hated travel and hotel rooms. My GAWD, there’s nothing remotely interesting on the adult television channels, and I’ll be double-damned before I watch Jenna Jameson do her thang. Double standards: why is it okay to show threesome movies with two women and a man, but they can’t show two men and a women? Oh that’s right – I’m staying at the Mormon-owned gay-hating Marriott. Fuckers.

Thermopolis

Howdy, from somewhere in Wyoming. I’ve been in the state less then 24 hours, and in that time I’ve met my birthmother for lunch, drove from Casper to Thermopolis, met my aunt and uncle on my birth father’s side for the very first time for dinner, and met blogger extrardinairre SML. In fact, she says “hello!” because she’s right here. Gotta love the wireless possibilities in a hotel.

Breakfast was surprisingly good – the eggs benedict (my weakness) were damned good. We will check out the thriving metropolis (population 3600?) called Thermopolis. We’ll check out the natural hot springs/terraces in the state park, do lunch with my new aunt/uncle, and then head our respective directions this afternoon (Montana for her, and back to Casper for me).

Life is good. We’ve talked and talked, laughed our guts out, and have had a smashing good time. It’s awesome to put a face to a name who you’ve read about, and emailed and chatted with. SML is an incredible woman and Pompous1 will have to be satisfied with co-vice-chair, since Dart is already president and chair of her fan club!

After a long fasting and thoughtful prayer, we humbly propose a gathering of the lost tribes of Outer Blogness. Somewhere central, but with a damn good alcohol supply. Our testimony of Outer Blogness turns into action when we sustain each other. Bow your head, raise your arm to the square, and gimme a “fuck, yes!”

We sustain the following (translation: a special shout-out to our fellow bloggers and friends of the internets):

Christy Jer CV Rick Pomp Cele Chanson Gunner Mattman Mayan Elephant Mrs. M. Elephant Thunderchops John Dirr Bishop Rick JulieAnn Fiddley Gomme Montchan Shaney LA

Dartman Sacred Sister Simeon Equality Time A New Eric Rebecca Belaja Wry Catcher Dr. Ros Ripzip Randy Gluby Lemony Blossom Genilimaa Daniel the Desert Guy From the Ashes Arizona Awakening Bull

We apologize if we missed anyone!

San Diego

The city stretches out and around a bay that’s filled with marinas, an airport, a naval base, and fog that burns off with the day’s sunlight. The bed and breakfast is on the Hillcrest border (translation: San Diego gay mecca). Last night I had Greek food at a local place where the owner (from Athens) sang or hummed as he cooked. The waitress couldn’t help me with my very rusty “thank you’s” in Greek because she was Hispanic. She comped my glass of wine, though.

The conference is going better than I expected. The exhibition hall has more booths than you can shake a stick at. Some folks attempted their “I’m talking and looking interested because I’m supposed to look interested,” but I didn’t bite. Me, early mornings, two cups of coffee, and someone faking interest? No patience, no mercy. Buh-bye. While they’re in mid-sentence. (I’d just like to know if they’re like that when they fuck, too, or are they just as engaging? To be clear that I’m not sexist – I experienced this with two men and a woman (no, not the fucking, and no, not at the same time – oh nevermind.))

Back to the conference – the content was well-planned, all the presentations are on one CD (because they offered concurrent sessions), and I’ve been impressed with the calibre of the speakers and attendees. A software vendor wants me to come to a party at 6:00pm. Twist my arm – they’re serving free drinks.

The only point of this entire monologue: I miss Scott.

Quick Update

Construction on the remodel for our place should start in October, but some minor things like moving the water line and the sprinklers is will happen first. We’re extending the living room six feet, blowing out a wall and hallway in the living room, and adding a bedroom to the left side of the house. We anticipate two months of construction, dust, and chaos.

I leave tomorrow for San Diego. I may or may not be posting, depending on internet access and the conference itself. I’ve not been to this before, but I’m co-presenting with a vendor. In November, I’m slated for four presentations. This coming March, I’m set for at least three and possibly four. My self-concept needs an overhaul – so much for my beliefs about shy and quiet. I’ve noticed that I don’t feel any fear in pubic speaking, maybe a slight nervousness, but it goes away once I get into the topic. Hard to believe I failed Speech class in high school for refusing to do any speeches, eh?

Be well, good peoples.

Hello, from DC

Hugs to Scott, first and foremost.

Wireless is available in certain hot spots through the hotel. I’m not hauling around my laptop, sorry. There is a cyber lounge, but people are always queued, compulsively checking their email. I have to say, it’s sort of liberating being away from the internet every once in a while.

Saturday was the travel day. Sunday evening was hanging out with Joel, Kelly and M. We did dinner (oh my gawd, the shrimp and scallops enchilada…amazing) at a Mexican restaurant. I split a pitcher of margaritas with Joel. Later, we dropped by a neighborhood stand-and-model bar. The DC experience was this: you’re judged on how you look (fashion and physique 101), what you drive, and who you work for. Joel liked the bartender, but I hated the place. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I don’t care if Jake Gyllenhaal was there, naked, and dancing on the bar. We got back to the Marriott and had a great time in the suite with M and Kelly – listening to music (M’s portable Ipod and speaker set), sipping tequila, and talking for hours.

Sunday, up late for breakfast with Joel. The afternoon I hit the gym and worked out. My first official meeting was in the afternoon – the nat’l HR client advisory team. There was a catered dinner, which was awesome. 1.5 hour meeting. We prioritized a series of bugs, went over “little giant” issues with the product, and discussed strategies for 2007. I’m happier with the whole product than I have ever been. They seem happy that I, the vocal critic, am shutting the hell up finally, because I’m happy.

Monday. Up at 3:00am to a splitting headache (results of dirty martinis). Back to sleep. Up at 4:30am. Back to sleep. Up at 5:30am. Back to sleep. Up at 6:45am. Back to sleep until 7:45. I got up, showered, shaved, got dressed, and one cup of coffee – all in time for the opening session at 8:15 – 10:00am. 10:30 was the HR product overview/update. 11:30 was the start of lunch. I made friends with a bottle of Aleve, and here it is at 12:52 or so, in a hot spot downstairs, and I can finally think clearly.

I’ve missed the blogs and being online. I will catch up with the reading when I get back. Drop me a line and say “hello”. Even though you haven’t heard from me, there are several of you I’m thinking about.

Upcoming Trips on the Calendar

The annual trek to DC is coming up: March 18th through the 23rd.

The last few years, Cowboy or KimmerSlammer have gone and we kept each other out of too much trouble (aside from the one year we opened a bottle of wine with M’s spike from her boot, or the unfortunate Cosmopolitan incident, or the bottomless margarita, or the totally blitzed and dirty dancing incident – oh gawd, they’re all blending together), but that also meant we didn’t have any need to socialize outside of the conference. I think this is my 8th year? Jeebus.

This year, since I’m basically going solo (no Cowboy, no KimmerSlammer), I’ve decided to try and meet some of the local FoMos, Exmos, or ExmoSos (no, the MoFos aren’t on my list), if anyone’s interested. I may look up an old friend I knew in high school. If mother nature is kind, maybe this year I’ll get to see the cherry blossoms. Several years ago, it snowed.

I have to put two other trips on my calendar: a trek to visit my folks outside of Houston and a trek to Wyoming to visit my birth mom. Based on both states’ affiliation with guns, I better wear orange or take my own.

One trip coming up with Scott is at Eagle’s Peak in Forestville, but portions of that will also be a surprise for two very unsuspecting friends.