The weekend in Seattle was wonderful, despite the official conversation terminating the prospect of a long distance relationship with Military Man. -- prompted by noneother than Mr. Non-Committal himself... me.
Highlights from the trip included a birthday party at the home of a couple who work for Starbucks (corporate) -- whereas basically everything seen in a Starbucks store could be seen in their kitchen -- A shopping trip which netted me a new jacket and some fancy shoes -- an AMAZING dinner at Wild Ginger -- a cup of coffee from the flagship Starbucks store, a stroll through the market where I witnessed the famous fish-throwing guys, a view of the city from the Space Needle, and last but certainly not least... a drink made for me by noneother than Real World New Orleans star turned part-time bartender... Danny. I know.
Meanwhile, back in Indianapolis...
I struck up a conversation with a couple guys from the office after overhearing their new gymming routine. One of the guys is a consultant from North Carolina and has a former-football-player feel about him. He's been pretty friendly -- from inviting me to the gym with them to stopping by my desk for no real reason a couple times this morning. Not that I'm complaining. I won't lie... he's very confident, a little bit good-ole-boy, a little buisness-man, somewhat coach-like and also father figurish. Hot. If his current workout partner bails, this could be on a fast track to the corporate equivelent of Brokeback Mountain... or maybe just more like a cheap porn plot. He asked me today my age and informed me he's twenty years older, although he definitely doesn't look it. I would've guessed 35.
On the trip, I made a couple new friends... one of which kindof invited me to the equivelent of a gay pilot's circuit party -- minus the drugs and loud music. It's about a two hour drive from Los Angeles and takes place in January. Apparently the ones who have planes bring them... and if they have room, you can fly around with 'em.
Life is rough.