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Colbie Caillat's "Bubbly" is sexy and warm, and it exudes innocence. In my opinion, this is the best new song to use when making out with that special guy you're dating this season.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWX_OAcFjK8
Big law firms usually throw awesome parties for the holidays. For the most part, it's a tax write-off, so why not?
This year, however, my firm decided not to have a Christmas party. This decision totally bummed me out.
Fortunately, my lawyer-friend Sylvia invited me to her firm's party, which took place a couple weekends ago in downtown Dallas.
The party was at a fashion center, and it was catered by quite possibly the best restaurant in town. I wasn't very excited about it, because Sylvia's firm is one of the most conservative, stuffy firms in Dallas.
I was so wrong, though.
The party turned out to be a complete blast.
There was gambling. The event was a casino theme, and everyone played Blackjack to win fantastic prizes like Maverick's tickets, $250 gift cards to Northpark Mall, and IPODs. I did very well in the games, but, as is typical, didn't win any of the drawings.
There was butt sketching. This "art" form is similar to caricature sketching, but instead of your face being the focus of the drawing, your butt takes the center stage.
There was dancing. Mostly to 70's and 80's classic rock and pop. When the cheesy cover band played Brown Eyed Girl, Sylvia dragged me up there in front of her entire conservative firm, and we danced alone. Like any good gay friend, I obliged enthusiastically.
There was a photographer. After too many drinks, I donned a cheap pirate eye patch for the last hour of the night. Sylvia refused to let the other women take the bright pink boa that she'd swiped from the photo booth.
What was NOT at the party were cute guys. Out of
the entire law firm, including the spouses, only one guy even remotely peaked my curiosity. He was a young assistant football coach that worked at a small Texas college. His wife was a new associate at the firm.
Because Sylvia and I were the wildest, most uninhibited couple at the party, Football Coach and his wife latched onto us. Keeping in tradition with my straight boy curse, Football Coach became my good buddy, and made me promise that the four of us would hit the town and sing karaoke soon. Why do I always attract cute, straight boys who I can never do anything with? Very frustrating.
Regardless, we had a blast. The more that Football Coach and I drank, the more we bonded. At some point, Football Coach took off his jacket, revealing the ripped muscles that were only slightly concealed by his thin cotton shirt.
The four of us - me and Sylvia, and Football Coach and his wife - drank and danced all night.
Until the brawl started.
Apparently, the lead singer of the band was a serious alcoholic. He was talented as a singer, but as the night went on, his shirt came totally unbuttoned and his hairy belly flopped over his bead-studded belt. The singer's long blond hair, which was probably hip and full back in 1985, seemed ratty and full of grease. Still, the washed-up rocker and his macho charisma appealed to several of the forty- and fifty-year-old soccer moms.
One of these ladies (drunk-asses is probably a better description) was particularly drunk, and her husband was not at the party.
Consequently, when the singer approached her and tried to kiss her the first time, she let him.
Drama ensued amongst the elder population, but it didn't really peak until the singer went in for kiss number two.
At that point, one of the internet technology (IT) staff guys tried to stop the singer, and a shoving match began.
A full-out brawl ensued on the floor between the firm's IT staff and the fat singer. Fists were flying. A poker table collapsed. Chairs were 
falling.
A spouse in high heels and a gown tried to calm things down, but got tossed on her ass for her trouble.
I just stood in the back with Sylvia and Football Coach watching the disaster. Football Coach loved it.
I have to admit that I had a damn good time too.
Who could imagine that the stuffiest firm in town could throw a road house party?
Football Coach asked Sylvia and I to meet for karaoke around New Years. We both said yes.
I have the same early-morning routine Monday through Friday:
6:00 a.m. - wake up and head to the gym
6:30 a.m. - 7:45 a.m. lift weights
7:45 a.m. - 8:30 a.m. eat eggs, Kashi Go-Lean Crunch, and fruit, shower, and head to work.
It's often tough to drag myself to the gym each morning, but finally, I've found something that helps: CNN Headline News' Weatherman hunk, Bob Van Dillen. 
Bob is not a classically good-looking, suave, anchorman. In fact, some photos of him can be downright goofy looking. This includes his CNN bio pic, which I'm not a fan of. Unfortunately, after extensive Google searches, this photo is the only one I can find. If you have a better one, please hook me up.
But Bob's boyish, straight-guy charm is endearing, so much so that I listen to his weather reports several times each morning, even if he's talking about a storm 1000 miles away from Texas.
Bob's shy, but witty and flirtatious personality compliments host Robin Meade's fun and sexy presence perfectly, and this team is without a doubt the sexiest combo on the air before 9:00 a.m. (Sorry, Today Show fans!)
I couldn't get the video to imbed, but here is a great clip of Bob flexing his muscles for one of Robin's stories:
http://video.aol.com/video-detail/bob-van-dillens-gun-show/2973909754
This post is continued from Coming Out: The Parents.
First off, I apologize for taking such a long break from writing.
My slacking off was due to a variety of factors. At the top of the list was laziness - I just haven't felt like writing until recently.
Other factors, however, have also contributed to my absence from the web. For one, I've been completely slammed at work. I'm mean, slammed. Apparently, everyone loves litigation and arguments around the holidays - why they love it is beyond me. I long for the slow days of summer, where lawyers in my field usually get a break.
But alas, we have a long way to go.
Also, I've been dating a ton, with unsatisfactory results, and recently, I had LASIK surgery performed on my eyes. 20-15 vision, baby!
But we can talk about all that later, because now, I want to tell you about Thanksgiving with the folks . . .
Before my parents even arrived, I'd been tossing around the idea of waiting to tell them about my sexuality until we were back at their home in the Midwest, in a place where they feel comfortable and secure.
Some of Urban Insanity's readers recommended waiting until I was visiting them, as did some of my friends, and that theory certainly weighed on my mind, even if I saw it as an excuse to push off the inevitable conversation until a later date.
Ultimately, it was that "theory of coming out" that made me decide not to tell them over Thanksgiving.
Well, that, and my own cowardice.
So, I didn't tell them, and instead, I've decided to book a flight home for a non-holiday weekend in either January or February to attempt this dreaded conversation again.
But that's not the end of the story.
Some interesting developments happened over this holiday.
My folks stayed in the Magnolia Hotel in Downtown Dallas - if you're ever visiting here and can't get into the Melrose Hotel, I highly recommend it. Great deals and excellent rooms in the heart of downtown.
While in Dallas, they wanted to visit George Bush's Crawford Ranch. Yes, my folks are staunch Republicans. We drove 2.5 hours on Texas's overcrowded highways until we hit the back roads of Crawford. Once there, we stopped and dodged quarter-sized hail to run into the safety of a Bush souvenir store, where the shopkeeper and my Mom badgered me into take a photo with a faded, life-sized stand-up poster of "W." It was an experience.
Once we found the entrance to the ranch, we took a snapshot of the gate from the inside of my car, and then quickly turned around to head back to the city.
Even if you're a Republican, you can leave this tourist adventure off of your agenda next time you visit the Lone Star State. It's definitely not worth the trip.
We did all kinds of other touristy stuff, but I'll spare you the boring details.
I will tell you, however, that on the long car rides all over town with my folks and sister, we had lots of conversations.
One of our favorite topics of conversation involves my Dad's best friend's son, who is an angry, extremely flamboyant gay guy.
The discussions about this angry kid were mainly between my sister and Dad this time, and I noticed that my Mom remained strangely quiet.
Usually, she's right in the middle of these talks.
It bothered me that she remained quiet, perhaps because it reaffirmed my suspicion that she suspects that I'm gay.
It's also made me wonder if I should have the sexuality talk with her first, alone. I'm weighing the pros and cons of that right now.
More to follow after Christmas . . .
