Days that are gone but not forgotten

Fwd: days that are gone but not forgotten,
originally uploaded by beckybumblefuck.

There's been much that's happened of late that I haven't been able to

blog-log. I've been paralyzed into inaction by the hovering

guilt-cloud of an ugly manuscript that's been rearing its head.

Fortunately, the bastard (and I only call it that because it happens

to be on a crap topic) is on its last moments of the BBFK-respirator

and will soon be breathing on its own (for better or worse, I might

say). In early celebration, I figured I might start writing what I

*want* to write about, starting with the closing moments of my Free

Fallin' weekend (which I might add, no one guessed the concert that I

attended, yet...feel free to dig in...)



So cue up your Erasure and read on....



.......Gay Pride............



P and I, in our best attempt at pretending to *like* mornings, peeled

our bodies off of our respective hard surfaces: the floor and fold-out

chair. We shook off our alcohol-clouded heads, assembled our randomly

scattered belongings, and hit the local Hot Bagels. East coast bagels

hit the spot like no other breakfast food can, save maybe a good

English scone, and we were convinced and energized enough to plod on.

So off we went to our next destinations: the semi-local basketball

courts and outdoor running path. And run I did. Five miles worth of

it, fortunately through a nicely wooded section and with occasional

breaks for water. The cool-down mile walk was even accessorized with

some lovely company from another continent.



Fast-forward ahead past the non-movie worthy portions of the day, and

there we were driving North, on the road to NYC. My karma (damn, I

was a bastard in a previous life) kicked up then, and poor P found

himself with a ticket in hand, poor man. Yay, for a lack of towing

that weekend, but REALLY, going 12 miles over the speed limit is not a

big deal when you're on the highway and the speed limit is a lame

55mph anyways.



Once we did a little off-roading style crossing of a median, got lost,

and found, we managed to get into the least car-dense bridge or tunnel

leaving New Jersey. NYC was another matter though. Gay pride was all

hot and heavy, strutting through 5th Ave intermittently, between

stop-and-go traffic. I jumped out and into the fray. And oh, was it

worth it! There were gay versions of everything...gay rugby, gay

volleyball, gay volleyball, gay Jewish, gay Episcopalians...it went on

and on by genre. There were hotties and thongs and sweat (including

on me, at >92 degrees F), and loud thumping *good* dance music, and

unwanted freebies, and squirting water, and cops. It was all I could

hope for on a sunny Sunday on my own.

(My apologies to the heterosexual males. The parade offered next to no

eye candy for anyone other than gay men and heterosexual woman.)