A Blur of Rainbows and Greens

Pride fest weekend. Lets just say the gays don’t stay quiet long. I went out Saturday night and started with Cheesies. I ran into one of my friends but he was on a date. I tried not to crash it but as I kept drinking…things just happen. I went out dancing and met the girl in a wheelchair. I tried speaking to her about finding a new apartment. She said her girlfriend might know something. I’m hoping they might. Hey maybe they need a roommate?! I don’t mind living with lesbians. Nothing too crazy happened at the clubs. I started heading home to the train. I had to be up the next day at like noon to meet Lauren for Pride fest. On my walk to the train I met this straight guy. He said he was bar hopping tonight and heading back to his hotel (he was a flight attendant). We were just chit chatting at the train stop and his arrived before mine. He looks at me and leans down and says, “I’m only doing this cause I’m nice.” then proceeded to shove his tongue down my throat. Uh? Firstly, this guy wasn’t even my type. Secondly, at no point was I hitting on him. Thirdly, what the fuck? He just kissed me then hopped on the train and left. Okay. I didn’t get home until like 5-6? I was really drunk so I sat up watching Gilmore Girls and eating sandwich meats in hopes of no hangover the next day. It worked.

Sunday was another day of Pride fest. Lauren, Yumi, and I were gonna hang out the entire day. I went to their apartment and we hung out and watched a movie, had lunch, and of course drank. Once we were all sufficiently tipsy (Yumi mixed a mean drink) we headed downstairs to Pride fest. It was literally a party in the streets. I loved it. We finished the drink we made. Had some sangrias. Danced a lot. We were all having fun and everyone was drunk. I met one of my friends and we smoked pot in the middle of the outdoor dance floor. The girls left and I went out dancing.

First, I had to call my dad. Father’s Day and all. My dad and  I were never close growing up but now we learned to respect each other and I actually enjoy his company. I called him and told him my favorite memory of him. We were young and walking through NYC and this homeless man approached us and asked him for money. My dad told Luis and I to wait while he went into a store and bought the man a sandwich. It wasn’t anything special but I thought it was nice. It reminded me of how selfless both my parents are. They’ll be first to jump into a fight.

Anyways, back to being a slut. So we went Roscoes to go dancing cause it was Britney night and it’s always cray. My friend bought me several drinks. When I become faded I become very focused and if I’m feeling slutty it’s a bad combo. I was dancing like the biggest tramp on the dance floor. Groping. Kissing. Licking. You know the like. Afterward, my friend and I went outside to cool down. This cute little French boy (he was straight up from France) sits next to us. He was wiping tears away so I asked him what’s wrong. He starts going on about how everyone here was hot and he isn’t. He was cute. I’m grateful my self confidence has never been that low. I’ve just never compared myself to other people. We tried cheering the kid up but he wasn’t having it. We sat outside smoking and talking. The French boy went to an after hours bar to go give his confidence issue (ie get lucky) and my friend was going to a close by event. We got lost (we were both drunk). We gave up and he walked me to the train. Mind you I’m a mess right now. So I’m sitting on the train and there’s several wasted people as well. It’s 3 AM what do you expect. Then this older Spanish guy gets on and says “Oh what a bunch of fucking drunks.” in Spanish. This girl shot him a look so he snaps at her, “What the fuck are you looking at?” I snapped. I told him, “She’s looking at you cause you’re talking shit. You’re speaking Spanish it’s not like you’re speaking some fucking mysterious language.” He got pissed and got off the train. Why be mean to people? There’s no purpose. You bet your ass I’ll defend someone. One of the lessons I proudly learned from my parents.

So we are going to get extremely graphic but I will keep it mild. The next day I was hungover as fuck and kind of just derped in bed and watched Gilmore Girls. This guy wanted to hang out. He said we could smoke some pot and just hang out. Okay. His shit was strong. I was high the entire day. Anyways, we were smoking and hanging out and obviously the topic of sex came up (as it normally does). Long story short I found out orgasms while high are an incredible experience. Clearly I have to chase that high for the rest of my life. I’m totally kidding. Though I have to admit. I think I smoked too much this weekend. Considering I almost never do it. The actual pride parade is this Sunday…so this’ll probably be another crazy weekend. Whoops.

So I have a lot of job interviews coming up and all are promising. I have one Thursday, a third interview with the TV logging company, and a final interview for a customer service position. If I can get either of these jobs I can afford a nice studio. It will also mean I won’t have to go home to Florida when I graduate. I have high hopes. I will balance my erratic social life, a good job, and school. Believe it or not I’m fairly responsible.

The Only Way We Know How to be Proud

So I meant to write this Monday but I’ve been processing all week. So I’m sorry. For the sake of riding the emotional roller coaster with me lets go chronologically.

So I went out Saturday night. I met up with Lauren at Cheesie’s. We hung out with some of our friends. We both got fairly drunk. She said she wanted to go out dancing but I knew she was just going to go home. Luckily, I was meeting up with my friend Marlin. I got to Scarlet and Marlin was there (I was late) and so was the girl in the wheelchair and her girlfriend. They’re both super cool. They bought me a drunk. I don’t know why but they like Redbull Vodkas…that drink reminds me of how old my poor heart and liver are. Another girl came up to us and started dancing. She started buying Marlin and I shots. She bought us like 3 rounds of shots. Now I’m trashed. We danced the night away. A typical Saturday night at Scarlet. When the bar closed Marlin started going to IHop to meet up with his friends. I was talking to some guy so Marlin left ahead of me. I went speeding to catch up to him but stopped in front of this other bar that was letting out: Roscoes. There was a guy with a teacup Pomeranian puppy. This little guy was tiny. The guy is prancing and showing off his dog in front of all the gays flocking out of the club. I know dogs. The dog was getting overly stimulated. I got mad. This other guy and me started yelling at him. “You can’t have that dog here. It’s too much for him. You need to take him home. What’s wrong with you? etc”. The dog owner was drunk and not really listening. I just grabbed him and pulled him and asked him where does he live. I promised the other concerned guy I would take them home. The dog owner and I walked around for like 3 hours just talking. His dog was so tiny it could fit behind me and sleep in my chair as we walked. We stopped a few places to chit chat and make out. You know the usual. After one of those instances he told me, “Come spend the night with me.” I haven’t slept over at a guy’s place in a while. He was cute. He asked sweetly. Okay. We went back to his cute little studio apartment. The dog was exhausted so he passed out at the foot of the bed while we did the deed.

Next morning both of our phones are going berserk. He’s late for work. I’m hungover as fuck and I need to piss. I go use the restroom and we go downstairs to walk his dog. His dog loved me and just wanted to sit under my chair. We kissed and exchanged phone numbers and I went home. I finally looked at my phone. “Are your friends okay” “Did you hear what happened at Pulse?” To the internet I go. Then I saw it. The horrific tragedy that happened at Pulse in Orlando. All my close friends were fine. I am bad at processing information. I was exhausted. I went home and took a nap. I had to meet Lauren to go watch Game of Thrones. I got to Boystown and Lauren wasn’t home yet. Luckily I ran into one of my friends. He invited me into a bar with them. They were all dancing and having fun and I just wasn’t feeling it. I was saying I was just sober but I think I was still processing. We all left to attend a vigil for Pulse. We had the mayor, religious speakers, gays, muslims, everything. It was powerful. It was moving. It was more of a cry of unity and love. No anger. No hate. Just sadness and love and strength. I sat there blankly. Some people were crying. Some were acting normally. There I sat void of emotion. The vigil ended. We all hugged. I met up with Lauren and Yumi to go watch Game of Thrones. My friend Marlin wanted me to go out dancing again. I couldn’t. I just went home and went to sleep.

Monday morning I woke up and I looked online. The list and pictures of all the people who died. I cried. I didn’t know any of them but I cried. Now I was able to process. Pulse was my first gay club. The first place where I learned to love the gay scene. Growing up with all brothers and in the ghetto, I knew I enjoyed the company of women more and was attracted to guys. I never fully embraced myself until I went off to college in Orlando. Even when I had my first boyfriend at 18 I wasn’t fully comfortable with myself and felt this need to force this odd sense of masculinity onto the relationship. At Pulse I saw the beauty of femininity in men. I saw the fun someone can have while doing drag. I saw you can be a combination of masculine and feminine. I loved the music. The drinks. The slutty things that can happen. Most importantly the love though. Everyone was super friendly to me. I’m used to that honestly but other places feels like a dance of having to balance myself. At Pulse I can dance around to Rihanna and body roll without even a second look. I can look at a guy and smile and be more certain I’m not accidentally hitting on a straight guy. I can make out with some dude on the dance floor and know no one is looking over or saying anything. So to have that happened in Pulse hurt. I cried all day. I shut down for a day. Then I realized that’s what they want. This is what pride is about. Pride month is about celebrating those losses we’ve had to endure to reach this point. Pride is this Sunday in Chicago. You can bet your ass I’ll be in a slutty tank top and shorty shorts with all the glitter I can get. We will mourn those we lost but we will go on in the only way we know how: by getting drunk, kissing in the street, strutting around, dancing, singing, by having fun.

So continuing with life. I had two positive interviews this week. I need a freaking job ASAP so I can afford a studio apartment or else…I don’t know. One was a phone interview for a customer service position but it pays $20 so whatever! The guy was super nervous on the phone and it helped me to loosen up. I’m supposed to be hearing if I’m coming in for an interview today. Fingers crossed. The other was for a media company that logs TV news reports. I went in and got there hella early. In a neighborhood where there’s like nothing around. It’s in the old factory district. So I kind of just derped around. I went in and met this guy who I thought was the receptionist. Chit chatted with him then met two guys. Talked with them about my experience in film school and editing. Some choice rhetoric and lies made me seem totally competent. They then said I have to speak with another guy. It was the guy who I thought was the receptionist. He was the head of the department. Whoops. He was cool. We talked about video games, Pokemon, and writing aka like my favorite topics. He then gave me 15 minutes to sample log a 12 minute segment of a few news reports. The direction was minimal so I didn’t really know writing format or anything. I tried to be descriptive (have to do aesthetics and words). I only got about half way through the segment but he said that was normal. Okay. Hopefully one of these jobs work out cause I’m slowly dying here being unsure of where I’m living in 2 months.

Hello, Darkness My Old Friend.

Holy fucking hell. I haven’t written in here in about a year. I decided now is a good time to pick up my blog again. Lets test my writing skills and see if I can shorten a year of my life into a few sentences:

I wrote my thesis film and submitted it but it didn’t pass. I had 8 weeks to rewrite it while also balancing my other classes. I did it. It passed this time. That means all I have left for school is like 5 classes all of which will pail in comparison.

I have been single for about 2 years. I’ve gone on dates, met a lot of guys, had a lot more sex than I probably should have. I just haven’t met anyone I’m willing to pursue. Also the gay world is very fickle. Guys literally just stop responding. Example: I met this super cute deaf guy while out one night. He was all over me and kept wanting to talk to me. We exchanged numbers and texted for about a week and then he just stopped responding. He then texted me a month later asking “what’s up?” I can’t deal with that. So I’ve been happily single!

This should be the last time I ever have to mention his name but since he was a key element of my blog I feel like I have to explain what happened between Jimmy and I. Last year when we saw each other, we ended up at a party and did some drugs and he had a freak out. We sat together outside. Our feet and hands wrapped around each other. Faces inches apart. He started confessing feelings for me. I was into it. I quickly realized what was happening and told him to stop. I told him he has a girlfriend and I walked him home. I went home to Florida for Christmas break and my friends and I threw a party; the only place we knew to throw a party for that many people was Jimmy’s house. He worked and didn’t show up. However, the next day we went to get pizza at the place he works. He was there. He saw me. Did a double take. Stared at me. Then just walked away. I started laughing at the awkwardness of the situation. I messaged him on my way to Chicago apologizing for that situation and he told me: “I realize now you’ll always be a cunt and a leech.” and blocked me. That’s the last time we spoke. I don’t have any intentions of going back to Florida anytime soon and certainly won’t be seeing him anywhere.

I did it! That has pretty much been my year. Now that we’re caught up lets jump into it!

So Lauren moved out. She moved in with her girlfriend of a year. I’m happy for them but it means I’m kind of screwed. I have to find my own apartment by August that’s handicap accessible. Believe it or not that’s a super difficult find. A lot of the buildings in Chicago are old and not accessible. Needless to say I’ve been freaking out. I also need to find a job ASAP so I can save money for my move to LA and not have to resort to moving home to Florida after I graduate.

My twin brother is engaged. The guy is cool and funny and I like him but I’m concerned for them. Maybe it’s my own cynicism. I’ve dated 2 different guys for 3 years and they both ended. I don’t think they have been dating that long. Their wedding is next year so they’ll have time to make sure this is the right thing for them, but I wish them the best.

I have one final project due Thursday for class but other than that I’m done! And I already have it all essentially written. So basically I’m free for the summer to make poor decisions. So lets do that.

Saturday I went out with Lauren and her girlfriend, Yumi. We went to (guess?) Cheesies. Our bartender friends were working so we hung out with them. I also met this super cool rugby team that were all dressed as nerdy characters. I was so into it. I then got texted by this guy that I hooked up with before to come over. I was also supposed to meet my friend at one of the bars to celebrate his birthday? Por que no los dos? So I did. I went out dancing and got fairly drunk. I ended up at one of the after hour bars. More guys bought me drinks. Whoops. Then this really cute guy came up to me and started dancing and talking to me. Okay. He bought me another drink. Okay. We’re having fun and then this other dude in a wheelchair came up to us. He made the guy I was talking to talk to him. Okay. So I walked off and started dancing alone. The guy made us all try to talk. I wasn’t having it. He told me the other guy in the wheelchair was hitting on me. Sorry, I know it’s shitty but I’m incredibly shallow. Not my type. I told him we can be friends but he’s not my type. He kept hitting on me. Luckily this lovely girl came up and took me away. I hung out with her outside talking until the sun came up. I didn’t get home until 8 AM.

Monday was the Buzzed Spelling Bee at The Elbo Room. If you live in Chicago you should go sometime. It is one of the first events we went to when we arrived in Chicago and it’s one of my favorites. I misspelled my word but I got really drunk and had a blast. I also talked with my two host friends to see if they would help me get into the live comedy scene in Chicago. That’ll be really good on my resume when I move to LA to pursue writing.

I’m aiming to make this a summer I won’t forget. Come August everything will be different. I’ll be either living on my own or living with complete strangers. I’m sticking with my new life motto of saying yes to everything. It’s gotten me into some trouble but mostly I’ve had nothing but fun. That’s something I’m good at.