Hello, Readers. As always, welcome back to another installment of your favorite, albeit sporadically posted as of late, blog. I realize it’s presumptuous of me to refer to my little blog as your “favorite;” however, I’m in a needy mood today and I’d appreciate it if you humored me. Actually, that’s not true. My ego is fueled on self congratulation and today is no exception. I promised a very special post this week and here is my attempt to deliver it.
Thanks to all of you for the comments relating to my hiney picture. It’s not everyday that Some Guy posts pictures of his rear end on the Internet and I have to admit, I did so with a little trepidation. Granted, I knew certain people who are in the habit of prancing shirtless around Miami dance clubs swilling raspberry cosmopolitans while Adele’s latest remix fills the air would love that picture. Indeed they did. I was a little unsure about the rest of you. I’m thrilled that my tight jeans and faked bestiality were well received. The down side is that when I posted that picture I was sure that the lovely lady who was “disappointed” in my more than usual racy Emily post last week would drop off the blog list forever. While I regret that, I must push forward for the sake of the rest of you who are just as sick and twisted as I am. Ahhh, my people.
I’d also like to send an incredibly special thanks to my good friends Mike and Heather (www.yeticycles.com) who hosted Some Guy and the Special Lady Friend in
this weekend. We had the perfect balance
of fancy schmancy events and the usual white trash sorts of things that make me
tick. Heather’s co-conspirator in
various pranks against Some Guy, Isobel, also gets my special thanks. It’s because of my friendship with the two of
them that this blog exists. All of you
owe them a big thank you for forcing me to watch the Bachelor several years ago
and then incessantly bugging me to turn my emails into what has become this
blog. Oh, and Isobel, the three broads
you brought with you were lovely as well.
It was nice to have a new audience.
The trip was wonderful but climbing from 8,000 to 10,000 feet on a mountain bike in Vail was a highlight of the big trip (after the booze numbed my legs). I’d also like to thank my newest friends Kevin and LeAnn Duncan (www.silveroak.com) for opening their guest room at their home—and, more importantly, their wine cellar—in Vail in addition to allowing Some Guy to crash a few events I frankly shouldn’t have been allowed to valet park cars at over the weekend. It won’t surprise any of you that they didn’t serve Lone Star there. Incidentally, it was Heather who snapped the now infamous bear picture after the aforementioned bike climb in the morning, an afternoon of drinking, and a wonderful dinner filled with wine at Sweet Basil in Vail. It’s amazing she kept the camera straight.
With all of my thanks out of the way, let’s get to it.
I’m sure that all of you have better things to do (except my friend MH) than worry about when Some Guy will post each week. To be fair to me, I did attempt to tickle your collective fancies with the promise of some revealing information in lieu of my lack of desire to watch the continuation of this season’s d*ck measuring contest amongst the disenfranchised suitors known as the Men Tell All Episode.
This entire post was sparked by an email I received a few weeks ago from a reader in
In short, she suggested that I dedicate an entire post to explaining my
relationship with the Special Lady Friend.
Hesitant to drag the SLF into this mess any more than she is, I sat on
that email for awhile trying to think of a way to artfully answer the email
while also respecting the SLF’s lack of desire to have her life thrown into cyberspace
for public consumption. Believe it or
not, despite the fact that I share bits and pieces of myself fr om week to week,
I’m an inherently private person who doesn’t like others all up in his
This is me thinking. . .
Annnyyhoooo . . .
What I ultimately decided is that I’d share a bit more of my life with all of you in hopes that the bond that we have on a weekly basis would grow stronger. There’s still a lot I won’t share but let’s explore the SLF, shall we?
WHO IS SHE?
You’ll likely be surprised to know that the SLF was a reader of the blog who happened to shoot me an email about my famous Diaper Cake post. The email was friendly and generic. I thanked her and moved on with my day. It’s not uncommon for me to get a ton of emails from readers when I ask for them and this one was no different.
Now if you ask me, she continued to email me escalating the content until froth literally streamed from the monitor when I opened them. I have my version…she has the truth. After a couple of months of not hearing from her, she friended me on my Facebook page. I accepted and thanked her for the invite. We chatted via email and I eventually asked her if she’d like to meet me for a drink because I was headed to
business. In case you haven’t put the
pieces together, she lived in Dallas
at the time. Dallas
I know what you’re all thinking. In light of the fact that half of you are three quarters of the way through Fifty Shades of Darker or whatever the latest installment in that filthy trilogy is currently taking it’s undeserving ride on the New York Times Best Seller List, I suppose it’s fair to assume I was headed to town for a hook up.
Granted, I’m a sucker for a pretty lady, but I was at a stage in my life at that time where I was just looking to be alone. I’d just gotten out of an emotionally draining relationship and, frankly, hadn’t been taking good care of myself for a few months. Ironically, minus the Red Room of Pain, I was a lot like Christian Grey: serious, brooding, often angry, and self-loathing. I was tired, depressed, out of shape, and a drink with someone who would view me as a clean slate seemed nice. I travel a lot and I meet a lot of people. I enjoy that, but I’m not an indiscriminate philanderer. “Just drinks,” I told myself. I meant it.
By the way, before
Dallas, I’d been in
on business and I met some very nice people there. Here is a picture of me in Montana .
We met for drinks, which turned into dinner, which turned into an extended phone call from my hotel room after I dropped her off that night. Meeting her was a refreshing change from the clutter I’d allowed to enter my life and—although it would not materialize for a while—there was a certain peace I felt in her presence. My mind was not elsewhere when we talked and I appreciated that even though I failed to recognize it right way. I’d think you’d all agree that I have a certain talent for charm. I have many faults, but I’ve always been able to make people laugh. I’m always intrigued when I meet someone who charms me.
After a few weeks, she made her first trip to
She and a noticeably heavier Some Guy (I’m like Elvis in 1976) attended
a Longhorn Football game. Austin, Texas
Let me pause again. To understand where I was in my life at this point is a lot like understanding where Elvis was in 1976. His confidence had waned. He health had slipped. He swallowed a lot of aggression (along with a lot of peanut butter and banana sandwiches). Indeed, the only joy he experienced was when he was on stage. Now look, I’m no Elvis, but there is a comparison to be made here. My life was still spinning and I frankly didn’t care if it stopped. The blog was my outlet and some of the posts that came out of me after a dozen Lone Stars in the middle of the night are my most creative. The SLF didn’t see a wounded, alcohol soaked, class clown. She saw beyond that apparently and she chose to be patient.
We still attend Longhorn games.
Now for those of you who have been following me for some time you’ll know that my childhood (and current) celebrity crush---well, aside from the fact that for the next 3 weeks my current crush will be Olympic hurdler Lolo Jones because I love my country in addition to having a firm appreciation for whoever chose the U.S. Women’s Track Team’s uniforms—is Diane Lane. Notice the resemblance.
That’s a nice bonus and I’ll be the first to admit, it hasn’t hurt the growth of my feelings over time although it’s not the first thing I see when she smiles.
As time went on the blog grew and so did my fan base. I went to a few meet and greets, traveled a lot for work, and continued to meet my buddies out for beers in various honky tonks across
. In short, my old habits refused to leave me
alone. I made a lot of mistakes during
that time. I was often moody, selfish,
impatient, and remained focused on the things I feared she would take from
me. In return, she was patient, kind,
and she dealt with things that would have justifiably made any person insecure
and jealous. She never yelled, never
threw a tantrum, and never spoke to me like a child although I acted like one
more often than not. Austin
In retrospect, I liken this period in our relationship to the conversion of
Augustine—a man who went from being raised a Catholic to not only becoming an
atheist but actually an ardent supporter of a group trying to convince other
Christians that God did not exist.
Eventually, after kicking and screaming his way away from the light, he
became one of the biggest Christian apologists in the history of the Church.
Look, that’s not a religious statement. The comparison applies because, like
I was convinced that my value lied deep within a broken shell. I was convinced that I didn’t deserve the
patience of someone with the capability of making me see more. Indeed, I didn’t deserve it at that point,
but she gave it. St. Augustine
This part of our relationship wasn’t all brooding and soul searching. We had fun too.
She cooked . . .
She drank some more…
And I eventually relaxed enough to figure things out.
I regained my confidence, I lost a six pack of Lone Star in exchange for an actual six pack, and I got my head straight. Granted, I’m still human and I still falter from time to time, but my focus is planted squarely in the right place these days.
She chased me patiently, quietly, and eventually I realized what I had in front of me.
She can look like this…
But she can also look like this…
She is caring, strong, understanding, humble, and she accepts me for exactly who I am. She saw through what at the time was a cloudy exterior hiding what I had been and—eventually—what I am again.
Which is why I gave her this….
Yes, the SLF will eventually become Mrs. Some Guy in
and despite the
fact that I don’t deserve it, she’s accepted and she’s not likely to
Notice the shirt I chose for the engagement picture.
And that’s where we are today. Thanks to the SLF for peeking her head out of obscurity in order to indulge me this week. I’ll keep you posted on the wedding planning process. If nothing else, it’s bound to provide me with a mountain of material for the blog.
Next week is the big finale on our favorite show. My guess is Jef. Good for that guy. After that, it’s DP Tells All. Send in your questions now and I’ll do my best to get to all of them. In the meantime, if you need me, I’ll be picking out napkins and tablecloths.