T’was the night before Christmas Eve, and I was at the gym around 10pm… for about 30 minutes I was there alone. Listening to my MP3 player, dance mixes a-playin’ I began my long walk to the water fountain in between sets. I slipped into Sydney Bristow (Alias) mode, pretending to be all double-agent and doing that “I’m a badass” strut. The fun part was when I casually adjusted an earbud while mumbling under my breath “Dixon, I need an extraction!” Yeah, gay.

Later, while doing lat pull-downs, I literally laughed out loud when “One Moment In Time” began to play. I don’t know why I thought that’d be a good workout song, but it didn’t stop me from pretending to be an olympian, quietly acting out various moments from a fictional montage and even doing a set in slow motion with overdramatic facial expressions. It was awesome. To me.

So the guy I met last week is coming back through town Thursday. We’ve talked a few times on the phone while he’s been at his folks’ house in KY, so it’s cool that we already know a little about each other. Neither of us remembered too much what the other looked like, so he mentioned having a gay.com profile with pictures. Upon checking it out, I remembered that he is indeed a nice lookin’ guy… however I gave him hell when his description included ‘VGL.’ For those unfamiliar… VGL = “Very Good Looking.” My thing is, if you have pictures of yourself posted, you don’t need to mention your attractiveness. It’s subjective anyway. Besides, a self-described Very Good Looking guy is usually arrogant which is gross to begin with. He was embarrassed that he had it in there – even before I made fun of him.

I figure for our date Thursday we’ll grab somethin’ to eat, stroll through the new sculpture museum then head to a nearby pub. I’m ehcited.