ohmygod

Two of the best places in the world to boywatch are Home Depot and the airport. And if there are two places I've been spending a lot of time lately, it's Home Depot and the airport.

With the traveling this week and the home remodeling, Hotass and I have had a lot of opportunity to spot some really fine specimens of eye candy. And we're usually on the phone with each other.

In the middle of shopping for medicine cabinets or arranging for him to pick me up at the airport, the conversation stops mid-sentence.

"I'll just give you a call when my plane...ohmygod."

"What is it?" But we already know what it is. It's a hairy. brawny, rugged, masculine handsome man. We don't even ask for further details. God walks on by and the conversation picks up where we left off.

Earlier this week, I spotted Dick McKay on Queerclick. Consider this post my own little "ohmygod" from me to you.

So, um, what were you saying?

Leavin' on a Jet Plane

Normally these musings are from a man in Memphis, but for the first time ever (and probably the last time), these are musings from a man in Detroit.

At least I think it's Detroit. It's supposed to be Detroit, but it could very easily be an airport in Des Moines or Duluth. I'm only in the first hour of a three-hour layover on my way home, and I just really want to get back to Memphis.

I've spent the week in Connecticut. At least I think it was Connecticut. There wasn't much indication that I was in a place with any type of personality. It looked fairly scenic through the window of the car that picked me at the airport, and I could almost kinda sorta see the river from my hotel room.

This was the first trip with my new job. I started a week ago today, and I've been at a staff conference since Monday, trying not to look bewildered and desperately trying to fake competence. People are swift to judge the new guy and I didn't want to look like a dumbass. It was a good chance to meet the other folks I'll be working with from around the country, but I can't tell you how many times I had to whisper to the person sitting next to me, "What the hell does that mean?"

I can tell you that this new organization is a refreshing change from my last one. Our accommodations? A casino, but it was quite plush. Our meals? Divine and on the company dime, much better than the usual penny-pinching chicken and vegetable conference fare. Our alcohol? Well, I can at least say, that everyone I told that I was coming to work for this organization asked if I could still drink. That answer is a resounding yes. And most of this week's booze was on someone else's tab. That's just fantastic. I don't care who you are.

On the flip side of things, there were way too many Jewish grandmothers playing the slot machines. I think there was almost a geriatric revolt when our group was escorted to the front of the buffet line. My Southern ears didn't adapt well to the Midwestern and Northeastern whang of my new coworkers. I'm craving a redneck drawl, and being around mostly straight people all week, I'd love to just have a total "nell spell" and squeal at the top of my lungs. Just to get it out of my system.

I do feel like I haven't seen the sun all week, except through a window. And I'm pretty protective of my me-time and I get downright exhausted when I don't have recharging time. Trying to impress, soaking in new information and falling into bed late at night only to do it all over again early the next day has really taken a toll on my internal batteries.

So yeah -- a new job, a new house, big changes in the Gaggle (not only has Tman left but the Dynamic Duo are moving away too), traveling, I just don't feel like I've had much downtime lately, and I'm just worn the fuck out.

Two Queers and a Hammer

So now we've done it. Hotass and I have become homeowners.

Two months ago, I was content to live in my apartment, gladly paying rent for the convenience and peace of mind knowing that if something broke, it wasn't my problem. When it came to my home, I was a little commitment-phobic. Yes, I was aware of all the pro's of owning a home. The tax breaks. The investment. The security. The freedom. But the possibility of being dragged into a money pit and giving up my weekends for yardwork scared the daylights out of me, so I considered myself a terminal renter.

But then Tman decided to sell his house and move, and Hotass needed a roof over his head. And there was that nagging thought that I should probably grow up and get over my fears. And so when he proposed that we go in together and put down some roots, I agreed.

We found the perfect starter house, even if it was the first and only one we looked at. Affordable, but yet a place we can get a decent return on our investment in a couple of years. In a semi-quiet older neighborhood. Still inside the 240 Loop and close enough to Midtown that I don't get panicky. And yeah, there are upgrades and remodeling that needs to be done, but we have delusions that we can do the work ourselves.

The real estate agent handed us the keys to our new home yesterday afternoon, and by the time I got there after work, Hotass had already trimmed a single bush by the driveway and ripped out the bathroom medicine cabinet, leaving a gaping nasty hole in the bathroom wall. He said he needed some immediate gratification.

Last night we made our first trip to Lowe's as naive and eager do-it-yourselfers. Two and a half hours later, we left with a new pedestal sink, a vanity light, a faucet kit, wallpaper stripper, a bathroom vent fan, paint chips, and a lawnmower.

After I scored the seashell wallpaper in the bathroom, we stood around looking at what we could do next. We spied the tiled-in soap dish, toothbrush holder and towel rack. We might have watched too much HGTV.

"How do you feel about those?"

"I hate 'em."

Pieces of ceramic tile shattered and we started chiseling away at the remainder with a hammer and screwdriver, careful to not chip the surrounding tile and debating what we were going to put in the empty spaces and what color the wall would end up.

Tomorrow is my only day off before I start my new job on Thursday, and we'll spend the day, ripping out the vanity and installing the new sink and vanity light. This weekend, we're organizing a paint party for the rest of the house.

This home-ownership thing is going to be a blast. Stay tuned for photos and our progress.

A Cure for the Summertime Blues

It's not even officially summer, but already Spider has noted that several bloggers have the summertime blues. To cure the early summer blues, he's offered up a meme to break the blahs.

Here's how it works: Answer all of the original 20 questions (10 from Spider, 5 from Brad and 5 from me) that I have posted here, and then add five of your own.




Best summer: Maybe the summer of '95 - the first summer out on my own that finished with a road trip to New Orleans for Southern Decadence. That picture was made just before we got in the car to leave. Who were those boys? Oh, and the summer of '05 was pretty damn good too.

Best car I've ever owned: A 1985 Nissan 200SX

Best cruising song: "Where the Streets Have No Name", U2.

Favorite meal: Meatloaf and mashed potatoes

Favorite season: Fall

Proudest accomplishment: Landing the job that I start next week.

Best Christmas gift: Tickle-Me Elmo. No, seriously.

Most embarrassing moment: Taking a spill on the stairs at Backstreet.

Best slow dance song: "At Last," Etta James

Best night: The best night in recent memory is the night when the Gaggle went down to Beale Street.

These are the five that Brad added:
Favorite pet: Baxter, the stray daschund mutt I carried home, only to have to put him to sleep a week later because he was infested with worms.

Favorite crush: Mickey Brown. He sat across from me in high school Spanish class and would pretend to yawn to get me to yawn too. And he was just so damn cute.

Best vacation: The Outer Banks, 2001 and 2002.

Best relationship: Despite all of the heartache and drama, when my last relationship was good, it was great. When it was bad, it was dreadful.

Favorite dessert: Tiramisu. Or apple pie.

My questions
Favorite smell that reminds you of summer : Honeysuckle

Favorite song that reminds you of your first love: "Wicked Game" - Chris Isaak

Most memorable summer fling: Kevin Sherrill. Even though we had known each other since freshman orientation, I had no idea he was gay until we graduated. We first hooked up at my best friend's graduation party, and then again a week or two later. I remember talking to him on the phone during the series finale of "Melrose Place." The next week, he went to New York to make it big on Broadway, and I never heard from him again.

Best way to beat the heat: Taking a cool shower, and taking a nap in the coldest, darkest room in the house.

Favorite summer drink: Gin & tonic