How Much Is That Nudie In The Window?

Every gayborhood has one -- at least one if not more. I'm talking about the guy who is a bit of an exhibitionist and keeps his blinds purposely open so the public can see what he's doing. I've seen one in Chicago so far. This guy lives in a basement apartment up next to the sidewalk, so he's very accessible. He never closes is blinds and we've caught him sitting on his couch (which is under the window) on his laptop looking at porn, which is very visible when passing by. It confuses me what he's trying to gain by doing this.

In DC, the local exhibitionist lived in a row house on P Street, NW between 17th and 18th. He'd stand naked in his window and then when you noticed him, he backed into his otherwise darkened room. The first time I saw it, I wasn't sure I had, until a few steps later I turned to my friend and said, "Did you just see that?" When my friend confirmed, we basically agreed the dude was weird.

We also thought - erroneously - that it was a random sighting. But not so. Almost every Sunday night, on our walk from the Dupont Metro to JR's on 17th, we'd see the guy. After about 4 weeks of this, I'd had enough. So after we passed the guy's house and saw him again, I turned around to go back.

"Where are you going?", my friend asked.

"Well he clearly wants people to notice him, so I'm going to let him know I noticed him."

"Don't do that! Dop, come back here!"

"No, I'm gonna get to the bottom of this."

So I walked up the stoop to the front door and banged on it.

"Hello! Hello in there! OK, yes, we see you. You want people to notice you? OK, we noticed. Happy? Now what? Do you invite me in? Did you want to hook up? What are you trying to gain by standing naked in your window, you pervert? There could be children out here. You want to be noticed so badly? Well, here I am sweetheart!"

No answer.

"You're gonna get yourself shot one of these days," my friend said.

"I just wanted to know what I'm supposed to do. He's putting it out there, hoping to elicit some kind of response, so I gave him one."

Perhaps it was mere coincidence, but we never saw him in the window again.

IML 2008

It's that time of year again - time for thousands of leather-loving men to descend upon the Windy City in all their regalia.

For the leather community, it's life at its most dynamic. And for the rest of it, it's pretty much the best people-watching event of the year: the hunks, the freaks, the clones, the frightening, and all those manimal breeds (bears, wolves, otters, bulls, pups, cubs, etc.) and the disgusting smell that sometimes comes with the whole shebang. In any event, it's a hoot. And like the last two years, we'll be going to the expo one day, and then heading to the hotel lobby to gawk at everyone.

More about our LA trip next week, but for now have a safe and fun weekend!

We Loved LA, Part III

On Sunday, to escape the heat between The BF's 12-person brunch at The Sportsmen's Lodge and the 14-person dinner at Marix Tex Mex in Hollywood (both incredible), we decided to take in a movie at The Arclight Cinemas Dome on Sunset Boulevard. At first we had trouble trying to find the entrance to the building from the sidewalk, until The BF realized that since this was LA and nobody walks anywhere, the entrance must be closer to the garage. And, badda bing, there it was.

The movie - Iron Man. Had we been in Chicago, I probably would not have gone to see this movie. I'm not one for war movies with planes and missles and all the super hero stuff. But you go Robert Downey Jr. What a comeback. To have such a public downfall, he's made the smartest choice of his career by playing a man who is as flawed as Downey admitted to being in his own life at one point. And by the end of the movie, the character has had no real epiphany or given up all of his vices, but he does come to understand the difference between right and wrong - a lesson we all learn as we get older, just like Downey himself has seemed to. The movie was exciting. And Gwyneth Paltrow didn't even get on my nerves once!

The kicker of the afternoon was that we had one more celebrity sighting in the theatre lobby after the movie: none other than RuPaul sans drag. He's tall, freckled, bald and it looks like he's had something done, and by something I mean ribs removed. Even in a polo shirt, it was obvious that he sinks way in around the waistline.

Still, he counts as a celebrity if not the gayest one possible.

More to come . . .

We Loved LA, Part II

Last Saturday was a record hot day in Los Angeles. It ended up being 104 degrees! How did we beat the heat? Our friend Stephanie came through for us in a big way. Well-connected, Steph garnered invitations for 5 of us attend the opening of the new Simpsons' Ride at Universal Studios-Hollywood. We entered the park through a side entrance and after being given our VIP passes, were escorted to a roped off area outside the ride entrance. There were free Krusty Burgers and sandwiches and salads and drinks . . . and celebrities! Here is out celebrity sighting list:

Larry Birkhead and baby Dannielynn

Holly Robinson Peete

Corbin Bernsen

Kelsey Grammer

Melina Kanakaredes

Deidre Hall

Billy Bush

Fred Willard

Matt Groening

James L. Brooks

Antonio Villaraigosa (the mayor of LA)

The event started off with a man being shot out of a cannon. Matt caught the action on his iPhone - and it's pretty impressive quality for a camera phone.

After a few words of welcome, we were among the first to board the new ride. It's a fast, rockety ride that makes you feel like you're in a cartoon. After that we took the backstage tour and rode some rides, and then, of course, I had my photo taken with Shrek.

More to come . . .

We Loved LA, Part I

The BF and I returned from a 5-day trip to Los Angeles to visit friends, sightsee, and celebrate The BF's 30th birthday this past Sunday. The entire weekend was a magical blast. Much kudos to Matt, Stephanie, Catherine, and the rest of the gang for making it so memorable.

We arrived Wednesday night and quickly started the weekend by going to Disneyland on Thursday. The weather was warm and sunny, and because we went on a Thursday in late May, the crowd was practically non-existent. Our longest wait in any line was no more than 30 minutes. In some cases there was actually no wait at all. And to those who say you can't possibly "do Disneyland" in a day, I say balderdash. Here's the list of rides we did in one day:

Big Thunder Mountain Railroad
Indiana Jones Adventure
Peter Pan's Flight
Buzz Lightyear Astro Blasters
Innoventions
Star Tours
Tower of Terror
California Screamin'
Soarin' Over California
Pirates of the Carribbean
Splash Mountain
Space Mountain

That last one was the the one that finally put me over the edge. The word I used to describe the feeling was "jostled", and I think it was an excellent word for the moment.

So many fun memories were made that day, but the one topping the list was when Catherine - soaking wet from Splash Mountain - absentmindedly grabbed her wrap dress from the back to ring out the water, and mooned everyone standing in line waiting to ride: attendants, children, parents, school kids, teenagers, grandparents. Matt joked that at least 30 boys hit puberty at that very moment.

More to come...

Off To LA

We are off to L.A. to spend the next several days with Matt, Stephanie, Heather, Nikki, Cat, Joby, Mickey Mouse and The Simpsons - among others - to celebrate The BF's 30th Birthday on Sunday.

Be back on Tuesday.

Mother's Day

Like a good son, I sent my mom a Mothers' Day card early enough last week that she received it before Sunday. I love and respect my mom more than any other person that's ever lived. She's loved me during times that were good or bad; during times when I acheived great things; during times when she didn't understand what I was doing; during times when I was weak; during times when I was at my strongest; during times when it might have even been hard for her to love me; during times when I turned out to be someone she didn't expect.

There's no greater devotion in the world than that between a mother and a child. Even at my age, I still need her - mostly as a sounding board than anything else. She doesn't see my day-to-day life like she does with my sister and brothers. And as a byproduct, she probably worries a little bit more about me. Although she has not yet met The BF (due to geography), she knows I am in a happy, committed relationship, and she feels peaceful about that.

She's lived a quiet and somewhat sheltered life - being exposed to the world through the eyes and opinions of her children. She's never traveled extensively and 99% of her life has been lived within a 6-mile radius. But in contrast, she is as open-minded as they come. When I came out to my mom 11 years ago (yeah, late), her response was "so tell me something I don't already know". When I asked her how she knew, she gave me the very motherly response of "I know everything". And I believe her.

I'd certainly never want to test her. Happy Mothers' Day, Mom!

Weekend

My weekend is shaping up to be very relaxing. It is the first weekend in many weeks where I have absolutley nothing planned, nor do I have to be anywhere at a specific time. Not that the last several weekends haven't been fun, but it's nice every now and then to sleep-in (for me that's getting out of bed around 8:30am), lay on the couch and catch up on the Netflix movies that have been gathering dust.

Last weekend was fun though. The BF and I went to CircEsteem, a non-profit on the northside whose mission is to mission is to unite youth from diverse racial, cultural, and economic backgrounds and help them build self-esteem and mutual respect through the practice of circus arts. The talent varied from small kids simply jumping through hoops to a world class teenager from the southside who escaped the life of gangbangers by finding success and a future in circus arts. Very inspiring story.

After the show, we trotted over to Crew and had lunch and drinks with friends Chris and Justin. This is something I truly need to do more of. I forget how much I enjoy just hanging out and throwing back a beer or two now and then. My life seems so hectically scheduled that I rarely allow myself the time to simply chill out with friends. It was fun, and needs repeating.

On the positive side, The BF and I have been living together now for almost two weeks which, for me anyway, have just flown by. We are taking a little vacation together next week, and I'm very much looking forward to that.

Sitting-In For Not Standing Up

Women need to stop complaining about men not giving up their seats for them on public transportation, namely trains and buses.

First of all, it's not a rule. The rule states that able-bodied adults are to give up their seats for the handicapped, the elderly, and expectant mothers. And for the most part, I do see men do just that. However, it is rare when I see a woman give up her seat for a senior citizen. I ride the Trixie Trolley (#156 LaSalle) everyday, and always sit in the back of the bus in the elevated section. There have been puh-lenty of times I have given up my seat in the back of the bus to a senior citizen who has had to make his/her way through the crowd, past all the seated young women in order to get to my location. Not standing for a woman is showing equality; not standing for an elderly person is just shameful and disrespectful.

And since I mentioned it, I guess I don't understand the concept of a woman - especially a young woman - demanding a man give up his seat or hold a door open for her. I don't argue that it is a polite gesture that men need to be taught while still young in order for it to be ingrained into who they are as adults. But I don't think these gestures should be expected or even demanded. I'm happy to give up my seat to a woman who I am certain is in the latter stages of her pregnancy (key words there are "I am certain"; at times, it is difficult to tell). But I'm not about to stand up for a 26-year old woman just so she can sit down to read.

I've heard all the arguments before, the biggest being shoes. Here's a tip: here's what I do when wearing a pair of shoes all day that hurt my feet. I throw them away. Or, I don't wear them. I'm sorry women feel the pressure of society to wear body altering clothing, but it is ultimately a choice they've made. Just as there is no law that says I have to show a woman any courtesy, there is no law that says she has to dress the way she does.

I am 42 years-old. By all accounts, I look perfectly healthy. But no stranger on a bus or train has any idea what my health problems are, just like I have no idea about anyone else. Unless your health situation is obvious (which even mine are not), I'm not going out of my way to make you more comfortable when I have no relationship to you - or worse, just because you are a woman. I would think you would find that more insulting than flattering. And if you don't, you should.

Jai Rodriguez

It's official: Jai Rodriguez has the worst post-Queer Eye career of the group. I mean, have you seen Groomer Has It on Animal Planet yet? It's awful! Even Jai acts like he hates being there. He turns on the cheese while on camera, but I get the feeling that when the director yells "cut!", Jai is storming to his dressing room feverishly trying to get his agent to return his phone calls.

First, a part on Queer Eye no one really understood, then "The Jury", and now this? If every dog has his day, this one is clearly not Jai's.

Suing Southwest

In light of the recent FAA's failed compliance, I will be adding Southwest Airlines to my long list of litigious endeavors.

Since I've flown on Southwest about 10 times in the past two years, I've decided to sue them for attempted murder since they repeatedly, and beyond normal circumstances, took my life in their hands by flying me on planes that were knowingly not passing inspection.

How much you think I could get?

Goodbye And Hello

I've been hinting at this for about a month or so, but yesterday, The BF and I finally moved in together. After two-and-a-half years or traipsing back and forth to each other's apartments (he traipsed more than I, mostly because I was the one with cable), we purged some things and he made room for me in his cute little one-bedroom. The plan is for him to sell his place sometime over the summer, and the two of us get a larger loft where we can both spread out . . . and up (more details on THAT later, too).

All of this has churned up some bittersweet emotions in me. This is the first time since 1988 I have lived with someone who was more than just a roommate. Ex#1 and I moved in together exactly 20 years ago, when I was 22 and he was 23 (coincidentally enough, it was also the end of April). We had been dating for 2.5 months, and living 140 miles apart. Moving in together was more convenience than anything else. Ex#1 and I are still in touch with each other and I get a card or email from him every year around my birthday - mostly because he remembers that I share the same birthday as his mother.

God, I was so young back then! Moving in with someone when you are 22 and 23 is nothing more than just playing house. Not to mention, it was my first gay relationship. I had no idea what I was doing, and within 8 months, we split up. And back in 1989, I swore I would never live with another boyfriend again.

And I haven't . . . until now.

My move-in was pretty simple, with only a few minor adjustments needing to be made. At first I thought I had done so well at purging things I really didn't need. But looking back, it's more to The BF's credit that he made so much room for my stuff. He's sacrificing alot (space, privacy, a bed to himself now and then) just to be around me more often. It's a bit overwhelming. I've never had anyone this "into" me before. But then, I totally deserve it!

As exciting as this new chapter of my life will be, starting a new chapter means ending another one. After 8 years, Ashley and I will no longer be roommates. He's been a constant presence in my life while so many other things have come and gone: he's seen me through Ex#3, 4, 5 and all the men in-between; almost all of my health issues; 3 jobs; 3 apartments and 1 house; 2 remodels; 2 major cities; 2 jeeps (mine and his); countless shopping trips; 3 trips to Provincetown, 1 trip to New Orleans; and nights filled with karaoke, boys, shots, showtunes, dancing, booze, drag shows, dinner parties, and the million talks we've had over the years that were our equivalent to sitting around the kitchen table and eating a cheesecake.

And now we both live in the city we first visited together back in 2001 for Market Days. He's running a successful business and dating a great guy. We probably could have gone on being roommates for life, I guess. But love trumps everything. And I would take one year of living with The BF over a lifetime of living with anyone else.

It's all very exciting . . . and scary . . . and fun . . . and strange . . . and wonderful. I never thought I would get to this point in my life, yet I've arrived, seemingly without even trying. In a way, I feel 22 again - only this time I've got 20 years more experience.

No XXL At Gap

The other night after a long day at work, I walked into my longtime favorite store, Gap, and decided to remedy my solemn mood with some retail therapy. I found some polos in some colors I liked and began rummaging to find my size, XXL. Sadly, I couldn't find it in the blue. So then I looked at the pale blue. Not there either. Charcoal? Not there. Green? Not there.

Not thinking much of it, I walked over to ask an associate to look in the back for me. Some stores, like American Apparel for example, keep their XXL sizes in the back, I guess to save room on the sales floor. All you have to do is ask for an XXL. In a way, it's kinda fun, like a secret no one else knows. So when I asked a Gap Associate for my size, I was told that Gap was no longer carrying XXL in the stores and I would have to order everything online from now on.

I'm not sure what I felt at that moment, but part of it was embarrassment. Regardless of the words the associate used, all I heard was, "we're not serving your kind anymore". I felt discounted and almost ashamed for some reason. Basically, Gap hurt my feelings. But as I turned to leave the store, my feelings of inadequacy quickly turned to anger. On my way out, a different associate approached me with, "find everything ok?" to which I could only muster a boisterous "NO!" and walked out.

How dare they do this to ME? Me, who's been a faithful shopper to that company for the past 20+ years. Me, who worked for the company in both full and part-time positions for a period spanning 8 years. Me, who stuck by Gap even back in the late 90's when they had their identity crisis and then subsequently apologized to an abandoning public. Me, who has mentioned that I love Gap on this blog about a dozen or more times.

Being my size, my choices are already limited. I can't buy stuff at the mens' boutique shops because nothing is above a large. Another favorite store, Club Monaco, usually only stocks one XXL in everything and there seems to be someone beating me to it all the time (and CM doesn't have online shopping). My choices have been pretty much reduced to Gap, Banana Republic and Old Navy. And since all of those stores are the same company, it's a pretty good bet that Banana and Old Navy will follow Gap's lead if they haven't already. Which basically reduces me to zero options.

I sent a letter of complaint to Gap and asked for the reasoning behind this situation, but all I got back was a canned apology, thanking me for my correspondence and telling me how important my feedback is.

Eventually, I guess, I'll get used to this. I just won't be able to run in and pick up a new shirt for a party or trip or even just to make myself feel better. I would think that in today's economy, no retail company would want to disclude any type of shopper, let alone make the process more difficult.

The BF's Hidden Talent #2,439,741

In yet another one of his attempts to prove to me that he can do everything, The BF has taken to making cartoons using Photoshop. He admits to it being rudimentary in comparison to what my friend Dave is able to create. But then again, Dave is a graphic artist who has been doing these signature caricatures of people (like my profile picture on the far left) for many years; The BF began last Thursday. As he experiments with shading and layering, I completely expect The BF's artistry to improve in a short time. But the mere fact that he could create this in a first attempt without any previous knowledge is pretty . . . well . . . impressive.

Cell Phone On Planes

I was reading USA Today yesterday and in the Op/Ed page is a letter from Etta Trammell from Cincinnati who believes that since Europe is allowing the use of cell phones on planes in-flight in the next year, America should follow suit. She cites, what she believes are, the many benefits of this program: children flying alone and business travelers making the most of their workdays topping the list.

Clearly, Etta hasn't flown on an airplane or used any form of public transportation in, say, ever. She clearly has no idea what an airplane would sound like if anyone, let alone a gabby 13-year old, could use a cell phone. Has she lost her mind?

I just flew this past weekend - traveled home to see the family. Behind me sat three Asian women speaking in their native language. I'm sure it's a lovely language, but at 30,000 feet and engines blaring in my ear, the sound emanating from these women was pure annoyance. In front of me was an 18-month old crying for her mother during the entire trip. Funny thing was, momma was right next to her, completely oblivious to the child's cries. How does this happen? The mother did nothing. NOTHING! The father walked the child once or twice - when he wasn't on one of his 14 (yes, I counted them) trips to the rest room during the 90-minute flight.

I lost about 2 million brain cells during this flight, and Etta wants to add cellphones to this mess. This policy should never come to fruition. If it does, the car rental industry will be getting a lot more of my business.

Grape Lady

This probably makes me a really bad person, but this makes me laugh every time:

I'm sure it hurt, and I hope she's okay. I can't help myself, but it just makes me laugh. Only this makes me laugh even more:

The REAL Dream Ticket

I think it's really a shame that Americans have to actually choose between the two best presidential candidates who have come along in the last almost 20 years. Until the primary, I'm personally supporting Hillary Clinton. But if Barack Obama get the democratic nomination, I will vote for him as well. I realize that a dream ticket of either being president/vice president is nothing more than that - a dream. But if there was any possibility of just combining the two so we don't have to choose at all - that would be the ultimate ideal.

You think?

A New Low - "W" At 28%

So "W" has now dropped in his approval rating to 28% - only the second U.S. President in history to drop below 30%. And I predict it will drop even lower considering the economy has tanked and "W", just last week, announced staying the course in Iraq. He's on a mission to be our first three-war president in the event he starts a conflict with Iran.

So was it worth it - all you republicans who voted him back into office in 2004? Here is a list of historically recent presidents and their approval ratings upon leaving office:

In just seven years, Bush turned a record budget surplus into a record deficit.

He took our national reputation from an unprecedented high after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks to an unprecedented low, a downward slide that has been mirrored by his approval ratings.

He has repeatedly asserted the authority to operate without oversight and ignore laws and judicial rulings with wild abandon.

He has conducted domestic surveillance of American citizens without warrants, in violation of federal law and the Constitution. He has repeatedly admitted this crime, even bragged about it, on national television.

He facilitated the use of torture in Iraq, Guantanamo Bay and elsewhere, in violation of both American and international law. His administration regards the Geneva Conventions as "quaint."

He has waged a reckless and expensive war in Iraq that has killed hundreds of thousands and breeded a new generation of terrorists on the basis of deliberately misleading and fabricated intelligence.

Perhaps the scariest thing of all is that he still has another 9 months in office. Imagine what else could possibly go wrong.

Tudor Hall

Today marks the 143rd anniversary of Lincoln's death. He died at 7:22AM on the morning of April 15, 1865, from a gun shot wound to the head inflicted by John Wilkes Booth. This entire event (the assassination and its 14-day aftermath) fascinates me. True I find Lincoln to be a complex man, but I also find Booth to be much more intriguing. When people ask that question of what person, living or dead, would you invite to dinner, my answer is always John Wilkes Booth.

I've been to Ford's Theatre (the site of the murder) many times; I've biked Booth's escape route out of DC; visited the Surratt Tavern where he picked up supplies and carbines after fleeing DC; visited Samuel Mudd's house where Booth had Dr. Mudd set his broken leg; and even visited Booth's grave in Baltimore and his Gothic revival childhood home, Tudor Hall, in Bel Air, MD.

The latter is dichotomous in American History: on one hand it was the dwelling of man who committed the first Presidential assassination in America and changed the course of history forever. On the other hand, it was also home to the two greatest Shakespearean tragedians of the American stage: Junius Brutus Booth and his even more talented son, Edwin Booth. And while the house was more or less spared demolition because of Edwin, the true source of wonder is Wilkes.

I visited the house (now an office for Harford County's Center of the Arts) one Saturday last June when it was closed, roped off, and generally off limits. I went anyway. And much like the initial feeling I had when I entered Ford's Theatre for the first time, as I walked down the long driveway to the house, I couldn't help but get the feeling I had been here before. As I slowly neared the house, it all seemed familiar -- it could have been the numerous websites I've read about the place and even the details I garnered from the 15 or so books I've read about Wilkes and the Booth Family.

Once I arrived at the porch of the house, I turned around to see the driveway I had just walked. So many pictures are taken of the front of the house, but none are taken from the vantage point of the porch - the same vantage point the Booth's would have had when expecting visitors during the good times, and government soldiers during the bad times. If anything has remained untouched on the property for the last 143 years, it is the road leading to the house. Except for being paved (a few added trees), the path is the same.

The house was closed and no one was around so I had free range of the grounds but couldn't go in. Not sure how many renovations the inside of the house has experienced. I tried to get some pictures of the inside, but the bubbled glass in the windows made it impossible to get a clear shot. The weird thing was that even though I was alone on the 8 acres of land, I still got the feeling I was being watched. So I didn't dare climb too close or be too aggressive near the house.

I walked around the side of the house and spotted the balcony where its been said Wilkes and his sister, Asia, would rehearse scenes from "Romeo & Juliet". It is also suspected that this is the window into which Wilkes carved his initials, JWB (Wilkes apparently loved his initials so much he even had them tattooed in the crux of his right hand between his thumb and forefinger - this tattoo was later used to identify his body after being shot himself on Garrett's Farm near Port Royal, VA on April 26th). But that window has been long removed and it is uncertain where on the house that window originally belonged. Still, there is something a little haunting about the balcony.

I walked around the back of the house and tried to imagine, based on the books I've read, where the barn would have been located. In 1973, Tudor Hall was included in the National Register of Historic Places with a historical boundary of 136.5 acres to maintain the rural surroundings and distant views since Tudor Hall had been a farm during the Booth period. In 1982, the State of Maryland reduced the protective boundaries to the 8.33 acres, despite the oppositional pleas of historical experts.
As I walked around to the other side of the house, I noticed a window - nothing special about it - but there just seemed to be something to it. Could this be where the original JWB window had been cased? Was this the bedroom window young Wilkes would look out of when planning his future of following in his father's and two older brothers' footsteps on the American stage?

Wilkes would leave this place finally in 1857 at the age of 19 to join the Arch Street Theater Company in Philadelphia. At his request he was billed as "J.B. Wilkes", a pseudonym meant to divert attention away from his famous family. In 1858 he was accepted as a member of the Richmond Theatre, Virginia, stock company, and became increasingly popular, called "the handsomest man in America" by reviewers. He stood 5 feet, 8 inches tall, had jet-black hair, and was lean and athletic. His performances were often characterized by his contemporaries as acrobatic and intensely physical. Eerily prophetic to his "final performance" on the stage at Ford's Theater on April 14, 1865.

Love And Acceptance

Coming off of a pretty great weekend. On Saturday, The BF and I joined his parents who were in town for the Kitchen & Bath Industry Show (KBIS) held at McCormick Place. The BF is listing his place to sell (more info to follow), so it was fun for us to walk around and look at cabinets, whirlpools and bathrooms. There were some pretty interesting things for us to see - among them being a tiny child-sized toilet, which I assume could also be used by some folks at the Roloff Farms. A picture of large me standing beside it may or may not appear on Apartment Therapy-Chicago.

Also impressive are the shows put on by Kohler. Yes, there are actual performances at KBIS. Kohler partnered with MOMIX to put on a show at the top of every hour. The performances were very fluid and water . . . ish - a lot of flowing materials and movements and quite captivating. And the dancers were hot.

Aside from looking at all the chic cabinetry and spying on design diva Candice Olson, The BF and I spent time running around trying to find out which company was giving away all the delicious looking cupcakes. No such luck.

After spending some time at KBIS, The BF and his parents and I had dinner at Rock Bottom Brewery. I've only been around his parents twice (his mom, three times), but it all seemed to be a pretty comfortable situation. I believe I am the first boyfriend they've met, knowing exactly who I was when they met me. There didn't seem to be any tension or ill-ease whatsoever. It all looks pretty good.

Sunday, The BF and I attended a 10th Anniversary Brunch for friends Neil and Bob. It's truly wonderful that two people - gay or not - can commit to each other for 10 years without there being any legal recourse. They made a decision 10 years ago and have honored and respected their decision and each other ever since. So admirable! What made the event even more impressive was that there were two other gay couples who have been together over ten years. In sitting with buddy Jessica for an early dinner after the event, she stated that it's sometimes difficult for her to believe The BF and I have NOT been together for 10 years. I told her that perhaps in another year or so, The BF and I will host a small get-together and call it our "It Just Seems Like Our 10th Anniversary" Party.

In just under three years, he has really become the biggest and best part of my life. It's almost difficult to remember my life before him - it couldn't have been this fulfilling. And it's only going to get more so - again, more on that later.

This was a weekend filled with love and acceptance - neither did I ask for nor expect. But I got it in spades from some very special people.