  So heres how the day went down. Now that I have some time to reflect on it  being at school finally this morning, too late to show up to my first class and interrupt everyone by appearing 15 minutes before were let out. So I got up early enough on Saturday after a rather long session of drinking with Chris Kueffner. Mr. Orange and I went out to dinner in Solana Beach before hitting the Tidewater for some more drinkies and to watch the locals hook up, stinking up the pool tables with drunken play.
I think I got home around 10, which was good considering my flair for sleeping too much. Up around 7:30am in time for a long shower and a trip to the neighborhood Starbucks to fuel up for the morning. I headed down to San Diego, getting off the freeway at Washington only to realize 9am wasnt early enough for a decent parking space. On top of the circling around Hillcrest and University Heights neighborhoods, I noticed the temperature gauge on my dashboard alerting me to a higher-than-usual reading.
I started to panic as Im wont to do when something is amiss with the car. I treat it like a living being, always with a turning stomach of empathy. So I shut it down at the first sight of a spot, almost in the red but close enough to satisfy me  I was running late on top of it, and my hands were shaking pretty badly.
Took off running down Florida Street a couple of blocks north of Lincoln, trying to make it to the Living Room as quickly as possible. Running with my back as it is, up hills, across intersections. I got there in time to meet the crew, throw on a school-club t-shirt in a size small (stretching it a bit, I know), and let the sweat dry off before making it back onto the streets. What a crowd! Over 250 groups marched this year. Our spot on the street was #101, so we were back there chumming it up for quite a while after getting ourselves situated. A couple of runs to the nearby 7-11 for spiked lemonades hidden in Super Big Gulp containers. A few jokes exchanged, all eyes awandering to the eye candy passing by us.
And then, the parade. I couldnt believe the size of the crowds gathered along that mile stretch of Hillcrest. The procession lead us down University onto 6th Avenue until we made it into the park area where the festival was held. I stood a little behind the leaders at first, a bit shy to let out too many hoots and hollers. But once I got my confidence up, I too began to vocalize my enthusiasm, waving to the crowd of supporters and even taking hold of one side of the banner for about a quarter of the way. A few protesters in their usual spot just west of the 163 bridge. This year about 5 cops on horses stood between the marchers and the hellfire crew.
Too bad, cause I had planned to flash the fuckers. Big smiles and taunting laughter shot back at them. I turned to the boyfriend of our website designer, saying, I didnt know my parents were coming!! Laughter is the best antidote to hate. As we turned the corner into the park, I saw an old friend. Kerri Lou, a woman I hadnt seen in six or seven years. Talk about a needle in a haystack! I ran over to her, taking off my sunglasses to help her recognize me.
She begged me to exchange information so we could find each other later, but the parade was still in motion. I couldnt stop. Laughing to my schoolmates back in line about the absurdity of actually seeing someone you know amidst such a crowd, she came running up behind me, cell phone in hand, asking for my number. Yeah, I got a few reactions from the gesture  wolf whistles from the group at her insistence we see each other later.
Whos THAT? And then it was over. We sank down into the grass at the end of the line, took pictures, and shared some well-earned hugs of congratulations for being in our first-ever Pride march representing Cal State San Marcos. The festival was a hoot. Seeing beautiful boys dressed in things Id never attempt myself. Mullets-a-plenty. Leather chaps with naked butts sticking out the back. All sorts of folks. The highlight was getting to dance with Matt and Terence on the main dance floor until the heat had us sweating.
A few drinks and a lot more walking. Then I met up with Kerri, met her friends, wandered around the fruit loop of booths collecting samples of lube and stickers, signing petitions, ogling the leather for sale. Time to head home along the two mile trek that lead me that far away from my car, stopping in at the Flame for a glass of water and a pint to cool off. What a charming afternoon. So sore from all the activity, I could hardly walk yesterday. I made it home alright, stopping a couple of times to give my car a break and to pick up dinner and some beer for the early night that was ahead of me. Ran into an old therapist from rehab and her husband and new child. I cant remember her name for the life of me, but Ive run into her enough times before to warrant a hello and a life update from each of us. Innocent woman I dont think I was entirely courteous to her back in the day because of her purity. Nice to do that differently now that Im an adult. A bunch of sleep later and a couple of workouts to get the lingering lactic acid out of my muscles, and Im still sore, still tired. But what a weekend. No, I didnt mention it to my parents although I did record on Tivo the local newscasts to see if theyd have seen me there.
Nada. No need to ruin the experience with their boo-hooing. Car in the shop with what seems to be a broken timing belt. Or a water pump problem, or a radiator leak. Something making my car run hot. So Im renting a little chevy piece of crap for the day to keep my life rolling along without major interruption. Best get to the reading for my noon class. And to get a head start on the paper I have due on Wednesday. Tomorrow is the tennis tournament, and I can be sure to be wiped out by the time I get home from that. All this fun is tiring. 
