Yesterday started DC's annual Pride Festival- which basically boils down to a weekend of flair, fairies, and fanny-shaking in a sea of promiscuity, alcohol and etc., and gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous men from the District and beyond.
The parade featured local organizations (most unique: Capital Area Rainbowlers ... love it!!!) and businesses which support gay causes/rights (or, at least, capitalize on the incredible revenue generated by boys who luuuuuuuv shopping). Freebies collected: condoms, T-shirt from Results (boy toy gym), beads, and a beachball from Whole Foods that said "fruits come in all shapes and sizes" ... hilarious ...
While the parade slowly snakes its way through Dupont and along 17th, the entire gay community turns out in droves to see the panorama of queens, kings, bears, twinks, hunks, cowboys (sadly no Mountain in sight), and of course, your average Joes, fly the rainbow colors and wave to an earnest crowd of couples, singles, old-timers, and young ones still brushing off the cobwebs of the closet. It is an entire world.
Jonathan and I were late to a performance for our chorus, so we were dressed in our formal attire (tux, black tie) and scurrying along the street to get a peek before we had to sing for a bunch of straight people in a non-Pride-related event (don't these breeders know we're busy this weekend?!?).
Loads of people in the parade whistled, people in the street hooted, and even a few individuals stopped to take photos of us (memo to me: attention-getting device in a crowd of tasty men, have tux dry-cleaned regularly).
Why all this attention?
"Oh my god that's fabulous!" one woman screamed. "Are you dressed for Pride? Are you two getting married???"
Ooohhhhhhh ................
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Friday, June 9, 2006
Thoughts on H Street
Random thoughts that may pass through your head on H Street between 24th and 13th:
How the hell did I end up in a Korean parade of protestors?
Who scrubs the President's toilets?
Who designs clothes for the army?
Why do we know the location of the President's house? Is that safe?
How does one woman deal with 6 children in a stroller?
Why are those children on leashes?
When is it acceptable to tuck in a tie?
How much does it cost to manufacture an IPOD? What's the profit?
Are there no traffic signals outside of DC? How do the tourists not see them?
And lastly-
Do any of these people care about anyone else?
Answers to these would be appreciated ...
How the hell did I end up in a Korean parade of protestors?
Who scrubs the President's toilets?
Who designs clothes for the army?
Why do we know the location of the President's house? Is that safe?
How does one woman deal with 6 children in a stroller?
Why are those children on leashes?
When is it acceptable to tuck in a tie?
How much does it cost to manufacture an IPOD? What's the profit?
Are there no traffic signals outside of DC? How do the tourists not see them?
And lastly-
Do any of these people care about anyone else?
Answers to these would be appreciated ...
Bus therapy
What do you do when life gets you down? Phone a friend? Eat an ice cream? Punch a random tourist?
In the counseling field we are taught to constantly analyze our emotions and how they affect our behavior. It's nauseating; some days you're simply overwhelmed with yourself (and no, not in that extended-shower kind of way...)
The world turns its back on you and you feel rotten ... what options do you have left?
The answer is simple: ride the city bus.
There I was, late on a Thursday evening, fretting about increasing rates on student loans, comprehensive final exams looming, the stress and worry of finishing all my assignments on time, and being pissed off with life in general.
As I boarded the 80 to take me to the Kennedy Center, I paused from my selfish world and looked up at my fellow passengers. Most of them tired, rugged, and worn out from a hard day. Some were going to work, some just getting back- most of them had a very distant look in their eyes.
And then I realized- school is a privilege. I have the privilege to be in a financial position where I can take out massive loans. I have the privilege to have been educated well enough to enter a master's program. I have the luxury of classes and exams and deadlines and stressors, meetings and schedules and frustrations and chaos.
They are all an extravagant indulgence.
Suddenly the world became very big, and very manageable. And that's not bad for a buck-thirty-five.
In the counseling field we are taught to constantly analyze our emotions and how they affect our behavior. It's nauseating; some days you're simply overwhelmed with yourself (and no, not in that extended-shower kind of way...)
The world turns its back on you and you feel rotten ... what options do you have left?
The answer is simple: ride the city bus.
There I was, late on a Thursday evening, fretting about increasing rates on student loans, comprehensive final exams looming, the stress and worry of finishing all my assignments on time, and being pissed off with life in general.
As I boarded the 80 to take me to the Kennedy Center, I paused from my selfish world and looked up at my fellow passengers. Most of them tired, rugged, and worn out from a hard day. Some were going to work, some just getting back- most of them had a very distant look in their eyes.
And then I realized- school is a privilege. I have the privilege to be in a financial position where I can take out massive loans. I have the privilege to have been educated well enough to enter a master's program. I have the luxury of classes and exams and deadlines and stressors, meetings and schedules and frustrations and chaos.
They are all an extravagant indulgence.
Suddenly the world became very big, and very manageable. And that's not bad for a buck-thirty-five.
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