DISCLAIMER: PEOPLE WHO SHOULDN'T READ THIS: Older gay men who are into "leather", my mom, my teachers, and strangers.
I guess I should start off by apologizing to all my adoring fans for forcing you all to wait soooooooooo long for another entry, it's been a busy few weeks. I just got back from Montreal, where I went to "participate in a commemorative event for the Gay and Lesbian community" (READ: thousands of gay men dancing all night with their shirts off). Let me just say, that was some of the craziest shit I've ever seen.
I won't go into too much detail, but I think a brief summary of our first night is appropriate. The wife and I started off the weekend with a party called "The Leather Ball". Now, for some reason I was under the mistaken idea that it would be attended by all demographics within the gay community, luckily, for entertainment value, I was sorely mistaken. Most logical people would have put together leather ball=old dirty, creepy "leather daddies", but I guess I had a recurrence of Mormon naiveté .
Upon walking into said Leather Ball, we were greeted warmly by the bare ass cheeks of the older gay man standing in line at coat check, wearing only an apron to covering the front of him. CLICK HERE if you need help getting the idea of how the apron looked, and keep in mind that there was nothing being worn underneath. Also keep in mind that he was probably old enough to be my grandfather. So, I turned to the wife and said "Ummmm, are you sure we should go in here?" To which the wife replied, "Well, we're already here, so we miazwell (does anyone know how to spell the conjugated version of may as well?) check it out." E-V-E-R-Y-O-N-E was dressed in leather. Everyone was also in the 50-65 age bracket. But the music was good, and we'd had plenty of tequila shooters to encourage some dancing, so we strapped on our leather collars, bracelets, and glove, and danced the night away. The rest of the weekend was equally fabulous, we sashayed about town like the CACK (plural for cock) of the walk.
SO, after all the Montreal'ness, came my birthday. I didn't even have time to unpack and I was obligated to wasting a whole day celebrating my sparkly self. I was thinking to myself "damn girl, you cel'brate yo'self EVERY day!! i don't need no birrrrthday to tell me I's is special. *snap*" (Mmmmhhmm, that was Destine). Anyways, as a result of the weekend I woke up exhausted and slightly run down, so, as is only fitting for one's birthday, I started the day out with a good cry. And, since 26 is the gay 54, I proceeded to look at myself in the mirror and examine all my wrinkles, noting the places where I needed botox. So I finally dragged my swishy self outside and was feeling a little more optimistic about the whole birthday thing, but then I almost choked the first time I said the words "twenty-six" - as I made sure to tell everyone that it was my birthday.
Anyways, I guess I'll just finish today by leaving you with some wise words once told to me by an angel dressed in a white midriff baring turtleneck, dancing on a pier on a beautiful sunny pier.
"Sometimes I run, sometimes I hide,
sometimes I'm scared of you,
but all I really want is to hold you tight,
treat you right,
be with you day, and night,
all I really want is time"
The sad part is I just typed that out purely from memory, word for word from the song.
So deep though. Time, that's all we really want.
