Every year I take the Friday of Pride off to prep for the weekend. With people coming into town I always have a lot of crap to do before I'm ready to host guests. This particular Friday was also going to be the first time in a month that I had enough money to to a bunch of laundry and get a haircut (and my hair was getting out. of. control.).
Another yearly tradition is ignoring all of the stuff I need to get done on Friday and going out to kick the weekend off at karaoke on Thursday night.
Karaoke is a weekly event on Thursday nights, and every week I make the responsible decision to skip it, knowing that I'll be much better off if I just stay in and get some sleep (because it is a weekday after all). Every week I stand up to my own poor decision making skills and say, "Not tonight. Tonight you're gonna wash some dishes!"
Until someone asks me if I want to go.
Truthfully, they don't even have to really ask, the mere suggestion that karaoke exists is usually enough to shut Responsible Chris right the hell up.
I hadn't really counted on the hangover that the perfect storm of cheap vodka (imbibed too quickly), my Pre-Pride Crash Diet, and the knowledge that I had the next day off would cause. It was the worst I've ever felt after a night of drinking (and I one time drank an entire bottle of UV Blue in a matter of hours). I tried to get up and clean, but I was only able to wash two plates (two small plates) before I had to slouch back to my bed and moan for three more hours.
Not inviting people over is easier than cleaning anyway...
I'm not sure that I ever truly recovered. I had some gas station food, which made me feel better, but I just never felt quite right. We went out to Shogun Sushi and Hibachi for dinner (and it was amazeballs), and then we assembled at Pub 500 for Queeraoke.
Drink after drink and I didn't feel a thing. By midnight it was becoming clear to me that I was wasting my money (and also that my name was not going to be called to sing). I needed to just throw in the towel and rest up for the next day, but my friends had other ideas. We ended up at The Haze (I reject the name change).
There is nothing worse than being surrounded by drunk 21 year olds when you're not drunk and also stuffed full of Japanese food (is hearing Pitbull really that exciting). I had two options. I could embrace being a shitty person and sneak out the door while my much drunker friend stalked his prey on the dancefloor, or I could get on his level. So I pounded three drinks and one of those stupid test tube shots and waited for it to kick in.
Unfortunately all that did was make me forget that I cared about being a good person.
Pride Saturday included the parade and the festival. Both of these events are usually some of my favorite parts of 'Kato Pride. I love watching it grow every year and seeing not only the gay community out but also our straight allies. This year...it was mostly just really f#%!ing hot.
Another yearly tradition is ignoring all of the stuff I need to get done on Friday and going out to kick the weekend off at karaoke on Thursday night.
Karaoke is a weekly event on Thursday nights, and every week I make the responsible decision to skip it, knowing that I'll be much better off if I just stay in and get some sleep (because it is a weekday after all). Every week I stand up to my own poor decision making skills and say, "Not tonight. Tonight you're gonna wash some dishes!"
Until someone asks me if I want to go.
Truthfully, they don't even have to really ask, the mere suggestion that karaoke exists is usually enough to shut Responsible Chris right the hell up.
I hadn't really counted on the hangover that the perfect storm of cheap vodka (imbibed too quickly), my Pre-Pride Crash Diet, and the knowledge that I had the next day off would cause. It was the worst I've ever felt after a night of drinking (and I one time drank an entire bottle of UV Blue in a matter of hours). I tried to get up and clean, but I was only able to wash two plates (two small plates) before I had to slouch back to my bed and moan for three more hours.
Not inviting people over is easier than cleaning anyway...
I'm not sure that I ever truly recovered. I had some gas station food, which made me feel better, but I just never felt quite right. We went out to Shogun Sushi and Hibachi for dinner (and it was amazeballs), and then we assembled at Pub 500 for Queeraoke.
Drink after drink and I didn't feel a thing. By midnight it was becoming clear to me that I was wasting my money (and also that my name was not going to be called to sing). I needed to just throw in the towel and rest up for the next day, but my friends had other ideas. We ended up at The Haze (I reject the name change).
There is nothing worse than being surrounded by drunk 21 year olds when you're not drunk and also stuffed full of Japanese food (is hearing Pitbull really that exciting). I had two options. I could embrace being a shitty person and sneak out the door while my much drunker friend stalked his prey on the dancefloor, or I could get on his level. So I pounded three drinks and one of those stupid test tube shots and waited for it to kick in.
Unfortunately all that did was make me forget that I cared about being a good person.
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| You can find your own way home, right? |
Luckily we had a respite from the heat. My friends, Jamie and Simon, hosted their second annual Pride Champagne Brunch, and let me tell you, the gays know how to do brunch. They made an egg bake and turkey bacon (I don't really need to have your "healthy alternatives" agenda shoved down my throat...but I'll take a few pieces), rainbow fruit skewers, and rainbow cupcakes. I brought doughnut holes and muffins that I bought at the store right before I came over (which were plated to make the pictures appear less tacky...oh, the gays).
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| The gay alternative to a Bloody Mary |
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| With plenty left over to drink right from the bottle! |
The Pride Dance was exactly like very single dance I ever attended in High School...and it was awesome ('cause we're old enough to DRINK now!). There was a balloon arch leading into the dance, tables lining the walls covered in plastic table cloths, a DJ playing the most wonderful Top 40 hits (peppered with classics like Barbie Girl), and just a bit of drama.
I spotted a guy that I knew out on the dancefloor. He was a friend of a friend of an ex boyfriend (so we're obviously very close). The last interaction we'd had was after the breakup with the ex that connected us, and we were dancing out at the bar. There seemed to be a connection and at one point he pulled me out of the bar and into the alleyway (it was way less murdery than it sounds), pushed me against the wall and then leaned in an inch from my face and just kinda stayed there. After about ten awkward seconds I finally asked him,
"Dude, are you going to make your move, or are we just going to stand here all night?"
"Bringing you out here is my move."
"Your move can't be to force me to make a move!"
He peaced out shortly after that, and I hadn't seen him since.
So when I spotted him at the dance I shot him a smile, but I continued dancing with my friends. I kept catching him looking over at me, and he finally took the chance to come over and talk to me while we were all dancing The Cupid Shuffle. He grabbed me by the shoulder, leaned in really close, and whispered in my ear, "Just so you know, I think you suck!"
Uhhhhhhh...
Clearly he had a bee in his bonnet over something I'd done, but I couldn't for the life of me fathom what it could have been. I didn't really have time to figure it out and avoid missing any steps in The Cupid Shuffle, so I let him walk away, but I confronted him as soon as the song was done.
Apparently what he meant to say was, "You're a great dancer, I think you're awesome." but he was just too drunk? Buuuuuuuut I'm pretty sure that's just because I confronted him on it. It's hard to misunderstand someone that much when they hiss something twice in your ear.
The evening almost ended early after I nearly threw a shit fit of epic proportions (seriously, think Chernobyl), but luckily I have friends who can read the signs and talk me down before someone gets hurt. We did end up going home right after the dance, but it was the perfect way to end the night. I'll take sitting home without pants, watching Gilmore Girls, and eating Buffalo Wild Wings over getting drinks spilled on me at The Haze anyday.
And so, just as quickly as summer came, it's over. It's time to say goodbye to Pride Festivals, days at the lake, celebrations of corn, and lazy afternoons by the pool. Look out next week for my resolutions for a more grown up Fall. It's time to get down to business and make some real strides on my journey into adulthood!
Do you guys even believe me anymore when I claim I'm going to start making big changes?
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