Pink Saturday

This weekend was Pride in San Francisco. I always forget that this happens every year. I should know, living where I do, but the rainbow flags are up year-round now, so it all blends together. Anyway, I went with H to Pink Saturday, the fabulous pre-Pride block party in the Castro sponsored and hosted by the always deeeliteful and effervescent Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. As always, it was just streets full of eye candy and drink. These are the times when I wish I hadn't quit smoking. You couldn't walk two feet without running into someone's cigarette breathing in your face. It made me quite jealous. It was H's birthday on Saturday, so I thought was especially nice to have such a great big party that I didn't have to plan or commit to. What a great friend am I, I know, but 's OK because neither of us like the fêtes anyway. Mine is coming up soon, and I'd prefer to take the weekend off and go to the beach or something.

Though we returned home late (or early depending on your point of view), I was up at 9:30 am on Sunday. Didn't go to the parade. Didn't watch it on TV. Instead, I rediscovered the joys of iTunes and downloading music legally. And after a sumptuous dinner, we headed off to the Castro again to hit the beer busts only to find that there were no beer busts. Apparently, the bars do well enough during Pride to not have to offer cheap beer for any amount of time. Well... And so we sat and drank and stared at all the guys, wondering if they were from out of town. For me it's pretty easy to spot the tourists. I mean, on Market Street or in Union Square, they're always the ones in shorts and sandals. In the Castro, I'd say it's the boys with the deep, dark tans. Either they're tourists, or they vacation in the sun..._a lot_...or they're from somewhere south. It doesn't really matter because I wasn't "out on the prowl" as some would say (and I hesitate to write), and I just like to look anyway. Just like window shopping, no commitments, no disappointments.

As always, in events like Pride and the Folsom Street Fair, I am reminded of how great a region we live in. This town is so diverse and so interesting every other day of the year, but then when Pride comes along, even more of that diversity shines through. I so take it for granted. As much as I'll probably never afford to buy a house here, I couldn't move to where I could afford a house simply because I think it would be too boring. Quiet, safe, and affordable, yes, but less diversity. I'll never stop saying how great the Bay Area is due to the vast assortment of peoples and cultures that live here peacefully. I don't want to give that up.

And with diversity comes the variety of buttons and t-shirts and bumper stickers that are so entertaining. Among them, a button labeled "Outsource Bush," t-shirts that read "Tastes Like Chicken," "One Free Ride," the ubiquitous "Morningwood University All-Stars," and one that amused me: on the front read, "No one knows I'm a lesbian...," on the back read, "...except my cat."

So now it's back to every other day of the year.

I was silly enough to write this at 9:41 AM