Pride and Prejudice
Yesterday was very fun and very draining. I marched in my first pride parade with a banner for Safe Schools Coalition and the Whatcom Human Rights Task Force.
We had protestors. There were only a small handful of them, but the were posted along our parade route with huge signs with things like “FAG NATION” on them. Lovely. They were shouting something about our perversion over their bullhorns, but the marchers and onlookers were whooping and hollering so loud that they were largely drowned out.
When I got to the festival, I texted Andrew from my booth to tell him about the protestors, who then texted back, “OMG I’m on my way.”
This is Andrew, on the right, with one of the hate-mongers. Please note the shirt:
As the god people predicted, today I am paying dearly for my sins. The weekend took its toll on my skin (which has two days worth of sunburn) and my back, which is extremely out of whack from Saturday. To make matters worse, I got a horrific set of cramps right around bedtime last night that kept me awake all night. These ailments combined to form a trifecta of ouch that left me with no choice but to email in sick today. I spent the better part of the day sleeping and indulging in what has to be my number one guilty pleasure: Countdown Shows.
I love countdown shows. Even though the number one on just about every list is a total disappointment, if one of these shows is on, I am there from number 20 to the Number One, Most _____________ Ever.
Not having the energy to leave the house today meant I also didn’t have the energy to get coffee, which is probably why I have been a human cow pie all day and the fact that I have written nothing for my first article over at MamaPop tomorrow. I sort of started a piece about Hollywood divorce settlements and how they create a negative perception of alimony and women in divorce, which in turn reflects on how average Americans view alimony as gold-digging rather than fair compensation for the majority of woman divorcees in our country, who leave their marriages impoverished. It seemed kind of heavy, even with its snarky tone, so I don’t know if I’ll finish it.
Maybe I’ll just write about the tragedy that is the Jimmy Kimmel/Sarah Silverman break-up. I am pretty bummed about it, actually, not just because they were cute and funny, but because it means there will never be a follow up to the “I’m Fucking Matt Damon” songs.