Proud Marys
In an undeserved tribute to the insult to gayness that is myself, I was one proud queen today. Meaning that we went to the Pridefest at Civic Center today. LOML met up with many of my friends—now our friends—last night and today, all of whom seemed to do three things: a) welcome him to San Francisco (finally!) b) ask him when he got into town, and c) ask me privately (or not so privately) exactly how happy I was.
The three top answers: a) thanks! b) 4am on 6/26, c) "so fucking happy I can't even stand it".
We're now all sitting around—Josh, Ryan, LOML, Dan and myself, waiting for the hugest order of Indian food to arrive. Half of us are sitting in front of laptops, surfing, writing, looking for apartments, looking at porn, whatever. LOML was playing with his new toy. Dan was in the next room, chillin'. Rice is cooking in my "fuzzy logic" (no ref to bears) cooker. Walter, our cat, seems to be still detoxing from the drugs we gave him for the long-ass drive up here a couple of days ago—or he's just being spiteful because we inconvenienced him in all of this.
My neighbors must think that I'm running a halfway house or a shelter for cute gay boys from Tucson. Swear to GoB. It's all good. It's nice to have the house full and lively, or full and mellow. It's just plain nice to not be alone anymore. I never minded it, honestly, but now I don't have to think about minding it (if you know what I mean).
I've got the Apple World Wide Developer Conference to go to tomorrow (and every day this week). Advance sneak previews promise great things, including Apple finally taking the gloves off and giving Microsoft the shit that they so richly deserve.
So the interesting stuff continues. Thank fucking GoB for that.
Oh, and it looks like I'm going to start playing rugby—as soon as I get a real job that has health insurance. Any tips for me, rubgy boys out there?