allegro

The pride parade was WONDERFUL.

I must march again next year, either with the pagans (which I have done), or the bisexuals (who seem to need the support).
It just made me so happy. I even cried, and not just because I got sunscreen in my eye. Is there any reason why a drag queen dressed exquisitely as Eva Peron should make me so darned gleeful? Is there a good reason for my world to become brighter and more perfect as soon as I see a street-ful of Dykes on Bikes coming down Fifth Avenue?

I dunno. But I'm still smiling.

And to think, as I approached 5th Avenue with my boyfriend, I couldn't help but become incredibly uncomfortable. I want to belong in this beautiful community so much, but I'm in love with this quite male man. My attractions still steer lesbian (though I must say, pretty is pretty) but I arrive like a straight supporter. Can I even stand here and watch without feeling loss?

But then, you hear it. Those motorcycles are heading down the street and nothing else matters. My joy is so immense (for that matter, so is my boyfriend's). This community is still mine, because I still love it so much it hurts.

I left feeling lucky, if tired, sore, and hungry.
Food was had, Teen Titans movie was watched, couches were slouched in. Then all was right with the world.

So how was your Sunday?