I should post here more often... re: The Bear Event
Is this becoming a once-or-twice-a-month blog? Sadly, it seems so. I need to post here more often; that's for certain. It's certainly a better medium than FB or the like for my far-too-wordy posts ...
A couple of weeks ago, I made plans to go to a bear event in Indianapolis. I didn't initially intend on going, as towards the beginning of this year, Carl tried to get a room at the host hotel and was told that it had already been filled, leaving Carl to say "fuck it" and not make any plans to go at all. The event is all self-contained and my going on my own and not driving AND not being located at the event would have been more a hassle than it was worth.
Friends of mine in the Quad Cities, Sean and Art, asked me a week or two before the even if I was going, and I explained my situation. "Well, we have a spare room, and we can swing by and pick you up," they said. I was amazed by this amazingly dumb luck and fortunate generosity, so I jumped on it, and tried to put in my vacation days, planning to leave on Thursday.
"Oooh, I need you here Thursday for this project that needs to go to plate that night," my boss interjected. I explained to the guys that I couldn't leave until 5, and they seemed cool with it.
And then my boss tried to push the time back further, and further. At one point it was at 6:30, and I began to panic, realising that I was lucky enough that they were cool with leaving later, and that pushing it further was, well, pushing it. Wow, forms of the verb "push" just fill this paragraph, but I digress.
Eventually I DID leave at 5 (the project finished amazingly early, in part because they put an upper limit on the number of pages the project could do; the next day was an office party and they wanted to make sure no one was here still working instead of at the party, it seems), and I was finally off to the event. I was squished in the back seat between two other men but I didn't mind terribly.
The event itself was fun, and relaxing. It was nice to leave Peoria and just lounge about, swim, drink a bit, dance. I need time away, as I think everyone does at some point in time. The event is one of the few times that I get to see certain folk, so that just adds to it.
There were some odd moments. Like the fact that the ambulance showed up three times to the event. Or getting a massage from a man who was also the shuttle driver who kept having to leave to pick someone up and drop them off and then come back, eventually not coming back after the fourth time his phone went off. Or the man who was getting his throat fisted in the atrium and flash-vomited all over. Or the man who yelled at me, "Do you think I'm drunk? Fuck you, I'm just HIGH." Or the bacon divvier at breakfast who was scared shitless of all the gay men, a few of which were making full-on propositions to him.
These were, however, not a majority of the event. The majority was just relaxing, spending time with friends, eating (yay a yearly Fogo de Chão gettogether! These things don't exist in Peoria!), and meeting (and hanging out) with some beautiful, beautiful men.
Coming back was hard. It's awkward to go to a bear run and then come back and need to remind yourself that, no, you can't rub that random big man's belly anymore. :: laugh ::
A couple of weeks ago, I made plans to go to a bear event in Indianapolis. I didn't initially intend on going, as towards the beginning of this year, Carl tried to get a room at the host hotel and was told that it had already been filled, leaving Carl to say "fuck it" and not make any plans to go at all. The event is all self-contained and my going on my own and not driving AND not being located at the event would have been more a hassle than it was worth.
Friends of mine in the Quad Cities, Sean and Art, asked me a week or two before the even if I was going, and I explained my situation. "Well, we have a spare room, and we can swing by and pick you up," they said. I was amazed by this amazingly dumb luck and fortunate generosity, so I jumped on it, and tried to put in my vacation days, planning to leave on Thursday.
"Oooh, I need you here Thursday for this project that needs to go to plate that night," my boss interjected. I explained to the guys that I couldn't leave until 5, and they seemed cool with it.
And then my boss tried to push the time back further, and further. At one point it was at 6:30, and I began to panic, realising that I was lucky enough that they were cool with leaving later, and that pushing it further was, well, pushing it. Wow, forms of the verb "push" just fill this paragraph, but I digress.
Eventually I DID leave at 5 (the project finished amazingly early, in part because they put an upper limit on the number of pages the project could do; the next day was an office party and they wanted to make sure no one was here still working instead of at the party, it seems), and I was finally off to the event. I was squished in the back seat between two other men but I didn't mind terribly.
The event itself was fun, and relaxing. It was nice to leave Peoria and just lounge about, swim, drink a bit, dance. I need time away, as I think everyone does at some point in time. The event is one of the few times that I get to see certain folk, so that just adds to it.
There were some odd moments. Like the fact that the ambulance showed up three times to the event. Or getting a massage from a man who was also the shuttle driver who kept having to leave to pick someone up and drop them off and then come back, eventually not coming back after the fourth time his phone went off. Or the man who was getting his throat fisted in the atrium and flash-vomited all over. Or the man who yelled at me, "Do you think I'm drunk? Fuck you, I'm just HIGH." Or the bacon divvier at breakfast who was scared shitless of all the gay men, a few of which were making full-on propositions to him.
These were, however, not a majority of the event. The majority was just relaxing, spending time with friends, eating (yay a yearly Fogo de Chão gettogether! These things don't exist in Peoria!), and meeting (and hanging out) with some beautiful, beautiful men.
Coming back was hard. It's awkward to go to a bear run and then come back and need to remind yourself that, no, you can't rub that random big man's belly anymore. :: laugh ::