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2001-06-27 I slept through Pride. No, I mean literally. We had good intentions...the Roommate was walking in the parade for the first time and I wanted to be a supportive friend. The Boyfriend and I looked at each other at 9:30 and tried to do the math. 45 minutes for showers and dressing, another 30 minutes to an hour for breakfast and coffee (as there was none in his house), and did I really want to stop home and change or could I be seen in the same clothes as yesterday (and could anyone really tell?) because that would increase travel time to 45 minutes instead of 20, and we ended up with a figure that was shortly after the Roommate would be home eating a burger. I rolled over. The next thing I knew, The Boyfriend was nudging me gently. "We should get up. It's three." I guess we were tired. Well, between movies and work and then the Boyfriend's other extracurricular activities we were both kinda bushed. The two glasses of wine while waiting for a late night dinner didn't help either. So at three on the day of the Parade we finally got up and ate, and I went home and played Diablo II for a while. Not very "Queerific" but so what? Is someone going to revoke my queer card? Besides, I'm not especially fond of large groups of people anyway. I don't mean to be so down on Pride, though I do have my well-worn issues with it. Yes, I think the corporate sponsorship and commercialization of the parade, like the high brand-consciousness I see in the gay male community, is a turn-off. While it's nice that large liquor companies pour lots of dollars into queer events, is that just because the gay community drinks a third more than the community at large? Gee, thanks for the float in the parade; will you sponsor AA meetings too? (Some may. I'd like to know if they do.) And no, if you'd like to cut a little closer to home, I don't in fact feel a strong natural community with a lot of local gay men anymore; partly because I'm no longer in the dating pool; partly because I'm not involving myself socially. I feel like I'm breaking up with Pride here. "No, really, it's not you, it's me. We just want different things." At the same time anything that makes a million people convene for an event that says being queer is something perfectly normal can't be all bad. There's a lot of power in identifying with "your people." Lately my trip has been more about letting my freak flag fly--finding my "Angry Inch"--than building bridges. I'm a little disappointed that I missed what sounded like a pretty good time. But apparently, I needed the rest more. That spirit is infectious, though. The Roommate is vaguely peppy (in his manner, anyway) after the Pride event. It's a little frightening. I came home last night to a very..."proud" mix of music. He seems inspired to do more volunteer work, which is great. But I'm having trouble relating, as I didn't get that inoculation of optimism nor clarity of direction. I did some queer activism in college. I got burned out pretty fast, and I've never quite been bitten by the bug since. I was in the parade a couple of times and it's I've gotten to the point now where I'd rather just send money and sleep in instead. When did I get so crotchety? Oh, that's right: Shortly after birth. I forgot. He brought up the spectre of moving out of our tiny matchbox apartment. While the idea of more space is a nice one, I don't know that I want that particular stress anytime soon. Change? I'm tired of change. I just spent the last six months watching, avoiding, rolling with and otherwise dealing with change all around me. I think I'd like a little stability, myself. It's also stressful because it raises its twin spectre of moving in with the Boyfriend. "You've been dating for over three years," says a voice in my head. "Shouldn't you be living together by now?" But that's just a "should." I "should" also get regular physicals, have a cheery disposition all the time, and go to church every Sunday. Philosophical debates aside...do I want to? What will it take for me to feel ready to live with a lover? Argh. I don't have time to self-analyze. That's just eating into the time I could spend napping.
2003-03-29 - Moving Notice |
