Bundesrepublik Deutschland für immer!

Germany v. Argentina rocked my world at lunch today. Myself and one other tall blonde fellow were the only two in the entire joint who wanted Germany to win.

And win they did.

Go Germany!

Today's Lesson

Being at work after going out the night before and maybe getting one hour of sleep is probably the worst experience I have had to date. Note to self: never do this again.

Hell hath no fury...

like a gay who has been denied Dynasty reruns.

SoapNet typically shows Dynasty reruns at 2pm every weekday. I TiVo this everyday and then when it's a boring weekend, I'll watch about 20 episodes back to back. I won't go into how much this show rocks my world or why I blame being gay on my mother letting me watch it as a child, but I will ask that my faithful readers take 5 seconds to go to this SoapNet page and ask that SoapNet put Dynasty back in their weekday lineup. Aaron Spelling's body is barely cold in that pine box and they've already yanked his most beautiful creation out of our lives. Don't let them get away with this!


I shall not rest until Alexis Morrell Carrington Colby Dexter Rowan is back in my life.

A Long Road to Somewhere

Last week I went to get a haircut and my hairdresser asked me a question that caught me off guard and has really made me contemplate a lot about where I am right now. He asked, "So, are you dating anyone?" What a simple question that doesn't seem that out of the ordinary, yet it managed to catch me off guard. It's the first time in a very long time anyone has cared to even ask about whether I'm seeing anyone and the first time I realized how long its been since I have actually seen anyone.

I started to count backwards and realized that it has been over 9 and a half months since Ex and I split. In that time, which seems much longer than 9.5 months, I have not been on one single date. Now don't get me wrong, I've fooled around a bit, that's bound to happen, but even that has been pretty limited and meaningless. But a real date. Someone asking me out. Or me asking someone out. Nothing, in 9.5 months.

I have to say that I have not had any interest in asking anyone out. And clearly no one has felt any different about asking me out. That's okay though, I'm used to that. What is odd to me is the fact that it hadn't crossed my mind. I began to think, what if I never want that again? I know I want what I had with Ex when we were together...the love, the comfort, the happiness and stability. The feeling that you've found someone who loves you unconditionally. Now granted, it's clear that the Ex and I didn't really have that since he did not love me unconditionally. Or love me at all. But I felt he did at the time and I know that is something I want again. I feel like I've made great strides in moving on from the Ex. I don't think about him nearly as much, though when I do, I will admit that I still feel a knot in my stomach because of his absence from life. I want to email him to tell him something funny that happened that I know he'd appreciate. Of course I don't and I try to quickly dismiss the thought before I start to miss him. But in the time since he left, I haven't thought about anyone else either. It's not that I don't want someone to share this life with. I think it's the in-between now and that point where I feel like I did with the Ex that scares me. The idea of having to get to know someone that intimately again. It seems like such an effort, such a task and so complicated. The success rate of dating is so low and I am not sure I want or can handle the anguish of putting myself out there again. I wonder if I missed my window as well. Is it too late to find a stand-up guy?

I wonder when I'll ever feel compelled to want to try again. And when I do, how will it be recieved? How hard will it be to find someone to "click" with, even if it's not forever? Maybe it's good that this hasn't really crossed my mind. Maybe I needed time to let myself be comfortable with a life without Ex in it before I worry about letting someone else in.

In any case, I answered the guy who cuts my hair with a resounding "NOPE!" And for the rest of the day, realized that I am actually totally and completely single. And realized that I have no idea how I feel about it.

And also...

bloggers...please stop blogging about the rain. We get it. It's raining and flooding and DC is losing its mind. I swear I have never seen one topic rage through blogs in DC at the same time like this rain. It's like the people who drive in DC...it is as if this is the first time they've ever seen rain. I've lived in DC for 7 years and there have been quite a few times where DC has basically been shut down to flooding and rain. It's not new, and frankly hearing about congested traffic, flooded streets and stinky metro riders is just not that interesting. I'm as over the rain as anyone, but unless you're getting laid because of the flood, who cares?

Ann Coulter

Tonight Ann Coulter appeared on Joe Scarborough. If a house fell on that studio and killed them both, I don't think I'd give it a passing thought. First I hate Joe Scarborough...he's smug and he has beady eyes. I don't trust people with beady eyes. Ann Coulter, who likes to basically piss off people like me by basically just name calling liberals seven ways from Sunday without typically making much of an argument over why liberals are all the things she calls them, came on the show with that ragged blonde wig that looked like it hadn't been combed in days and about a case and a half of black eyeshadow/mascara on, looking like a tranny and immediately went into her rampage over liberals. I won't waste more than a few sentences here because to me, people like Ann Coulter or Michelle Malkin are weak and insignificant because they like to be controversial to the point where they are no longer controversial. To hear Ann Coulter say 9/11 widows are basically using their husbands' deaths to their own advantage and that they are "witches" is so out there, so just absolutely absurd that it doesn't even phase me anymore because I expect such absurdity from her kind.

Ann says about her knew book, "We knew liberals would be hysterical [about the book]..." Who is this "we"? I'm going to assume it's her other personalities that are obviously in charge of her makeup and are who make her come off as a raging bitch.

Also, when Ann Coulter is on tv, please MSNBC, do not also show Rita Cosby at the same time. I can only take two trailer trannies at a time. Rita, put the Marlboro Reds down! You sound like my grandfather.


Ann Coulter - you're insignificant and you have an Adam's Apple, and we all know what that means. I won't buy your book and I think you look like a $2 whore. Except $2 is asking about $2 more than what its worth. Petty argument? Maybe, but we know that's how you roll.

Big Brother is Back

The best show on TV is back bitches! This season on Big Brother, it's All Stars and you get to pick who gets to go back in the house. If you love me at all, you will go and vote for Janelle.



Janelle is the shit...so take a big whiff.

Worst Movie Ever

Boo!

I am watching what has to be the worst movie ever made. It's called The Shaft and "stars" Naomi Watts in what has to be her worst performance ever. The premise of this pile of trash is that there is a "haunted" elevator in a downtown NYC skyscraper that is killing people. Evidently this conglomerate of old white men that has some sort of military background have created microchips that are fused with dolphin brain material or something that makes machines think. Seriously. Naomi read this script and still agreed to be in this movie.

Some stellar writing that I've experienced so far:

Naomi's Character: I work for the elevator company.
Federal Agent: Yeah and I'm Winnie the Fucking Pooh.

See, there are federal agents involved because the elevator somehow magically ripped it's floor out from under an entire car full of passengers who fell to their deaths. The President comes on TV and says that this is an obvious terrorist attack. Obviously. In fact, my favorite line is when two federal agents are carrying "equipment" up to the roof.

Agent #1: Do you think this elevator is safe?
Agent #2: For your sake, I hope so because I'm not riding in it.
Agent #1 enters elevator with "equipment."
Agent #2: If you see Osama, tell him hi for me.

See, because the Osama reference makes sense since they think terrorists are involved in this killer elevator scenario.

Oh God, another good line:

Naomi to federal agents who are escorting her to a cell in the building (don't ask me where this cell came from in this normal office building): "Oh God! Look! Libyans."
The federal agents pull her to the ground and turn with their guns to kill these Libyans. She was just kidding though. There is no one from Libya anyway. Funny, right? Even funnier because Libya is no longer considered a state that sponsors terrorism. I guess they've learned their lesson after their failed attempt at killing Americans with haunted elevators.

Oh so the main guy in this movie has snuck into the engineering room to "kill" the elevator. He opens up the casing that covers the "brains" of the computer and finds, believe it or not, actual brains that have grown around all the electrical parts and doo dads. So - the elevator starts violently shaking because he's killing it ya know and one federal agent screams, "It's alive!" So then the elevator plunges to the ground floor, severing a federal agent in half before he can get out of the shaft. Damn, this shit is getting good. So yeah, I think the elevator is dead now. Oh and the federal government just figured out that the army guy is behind all this, not terrorists. Doh!

Oh shit, the heart is still beating...the elevator is not dead, just wounded. The main guy is now getting ready to shoot it with a bazooka. You know a movie is rad as hell when people use bazookas to kill the haunted elevator. Army guy is pleading not to kill the elevator.

Agent: "Gun down Gunther. Enough people have died."

Oh shit. The elevator just reached out with a cable and grabbed the army guy! He dead y'all. Then they finally kill the elevator with the bazooka.

Okay maybe I was wrong, this movie is the shit. At least a steaming pile of it. Thank you Starz. You have made this a Friday night to remember.

Okay and now the final scene...a skyline shot of NYC...WITH the Twin Towers. Now remember that one of those agents mentioned Osama. This made me a bit confused. Did anyone think Osama would be referenced in a movie if the Twin Towers were still around? So then I checked and saw this movie came out in 2001. Presumably before 9/11. See Condi! Bitches who made this shit ass movie even knew that Osama was out there and you stood up there and acted like y'all never heard of his ass. Alright for this shit movie exposing the Bush Administration's lies! Lies!!! This also explains why this movie was straight to video. Not because it's absolute filth, but because it was probably considered "insensitive" after 9/11 since it dealt with heavy subjects like terrorism and NYC skyscrapers and well, haunted elevators.

Anyway, thank God I was drunk through most of this. I suggest you all go rent this piece of shit so you too can say you've seen the worst movie ever made.

UPDATE: The next movie up on Starz is The Hillz "starring" Paris Hilton. I may have actually spoken too soon when I said that The Shaft is the worst movie ever. More to come...

Clean Bill of Health...sorta.

As a sexually active (well that's a bit of a stretch but for the purpose of this post, let's assume I am) gay man, it is very important to get tested for the full spectrum of dirty STDs that are running rampant through our community. Okay so that's good advice for everyone I suppose. I will admit however, that I am very slack on getting tested as regularly as they recommend. Part of the reason for this is it is absolutely terrifying and stressful. But finally I tell myself that not knowing if I'm okay isn't going to change the fact I am not if I am not. So why let being scared of knowing keep me from knowing? Well this week I had a visit to see my doctor because I have been having an allergic reaction to something, no clue what and I have had incredibly itchy skin, particularly after the shower. So of course I assume I am dying...or worse, have scabies or something totes disgusting. So I make an appointment to see my doctor and make sure that I'm just OCD and not actually freaking out for any particular reason. Note, I did not make the appointment to get tested for STDs.

The doctor basically said I am just having an allergic reaction to something (duh) and that it is definitely not anything disgusting like scabies. Which I mean I knew all along because I'm a classy and very clean person. I don't sleep with strangers in a roach motel, or the Red Roof Inn. I do it at the Ritz-Carlton. So anyway, I felt much better knowing that I was clean and that I just am having a reaction to something...possibly soap, laundry detergent...something. So he prescribed Zyrtec and some cream or something and told me to try some hypoallergenic products from now on. He then mentioned that I have never had a full physical with his office nor been tested for STDs there. Which is true. I will typically go to Whitman-Walker and make a donation if I'm getting tested simply because it's more anonymous and well was closer to my apartment and frankly easier to get an appointment. And you can get immediate results, at least for HIV. Well the doctor then tells me that itchy skin could be an early sign of Hepatitis...though he didn't specify which type. So of course then I realize I am dying and not only am I dying but it's my liver and now I can't drink. So he decides to run a blood test and check me for Syphillis, HIV and Hepatitis. He tells me the results will be in Tuesday. I have to mentally prepare myself for such tests, I can't just be asked to draw blood on the spot. This throws me completely for a loop and I then know for sure I am a goner. Here I am, having come in for just some dry itchy skin issues and now I have Hepatitis and probably HIV and am going to die sober. And won't know until Tuesday which is just going to kill my weekend.

Well today at lunch with coworkers, I get a phone call. It was loud in the restaurant and I could not hear clearly, but realized it was my doctor and he was giving me my results. I jump up, run outside and ask him to repeat everything he had just said. Turns out, I'm actually not the dirty girl some folks in this city might accuse me of being. I'm clean...no Syphillis, HIV or Hepatitis. So I breathe a sigh of relief and then the doctor goes, "Oh but..."

Uh, stop right there. There are no "but"s. Not on the phone. You don't call people with "but"s, especially not if you're a doctor delivering test results.

He says my liver has high levels of something...he named it but for the life of me I couldn't tell you what he said and do not recall having ever heard the word before. I responded with concern and interrogated him as to what this meant. Was I going to die? Great, now I'm not even going to die of something I clearly was at risk of having in the first place, but of something no one has ever heard of. Now when my family goes, oh he died of high levels of whatever, they'll be like, ew, what's that?

He reassures me, however, that the level of this whatever is normal, but just in the very high range for normal. Since it was pertaining to the liver, I asked again if he was sure it was not Hepatitis. He assured me it was not, that all other levels for the liver are perfectly normal. He basically said it's no big deal, which made me wonder why he was telling me at all. If it's normal, but maybe in the high range, why tell me? What causes this? How can it be fixed? I didn't ask any of these questions because I just wanted to get while the getting was good. I'll call back next week to discuss.

It's now clear to me that this issues exists because I'm an alcoholic. I have immediately informed all of my friends that the race to liver failure is on and I'm clearly leading the pack. In the age old debate over whether my lungs or liver will fail me first: Liver - 1, Lungs - 0. To celebrate my cleanliness, I think drinking will be on my agenda this weekend. That has to be good for the liver.

In conclusion, Carrie is a classy broad with spotless lady bits. And don't any of you forget it.

DC Blogs

Thanks to DC Blogs for the plug over my tirade about the Giant on 9th Street. Of course I'm slightly embarrassed that the one post that gets featured is one of me dropping the f word like a million times. Of course I was only quoting our lovely DC neighbors, but I can't see that one making its way into the WAPO Express. :) Which is why DC Blogs is much cooler.

Happy Friday!

Giant

Yesterday I made the tragic mistake of going over to the Giant on 9th St, NW. While the actual physical store is not bad, much cleaner than I was anticipating, the parking lost scares the hell out of me. There are crazies all over that place. One woman, clearly intoxicated and clearly not employed by the Giant, spent about 10 minutes running around, in the rain, gathering up the carts. I thought, well that was nice and totally unnecessary of her. Then she started asking folks for money to actually get one of the carts to use. Needless to say, I turned around, went back out the parking lot and grabbed a cart she had missed.

Then leaving the store, another woman, two children in tow, was having a conversation with several other women in a car idling behind mine. As I was loading my groceries, I couldn't help but overhear, and by couldn't help, trust me, I would have helped if I could have, this woman talking about the man she's "fucking" and how "that fucking bitch" better not say a "fucking word" to her or she will "knock her fucking face in." Then she and the other women started laughing really loudly about the fact this woman they are referring to works in a Wal-Mart. Now while I think its perfectly okay to mock Wal-Mart employees, I was amazed at how many f bombs the woman dropped while her kids are sitting there, neither of which were more than 8 years old. My parents, particularly my mother, could be liberal with the expletives growing up, but I've never heard my mother go on a tirade about who she was "fucking" and how she was going to "knock her fucking face in" when referring to the man's wife. I immediately wanted to run and grab these children and take them away from her Angelina Jolie style. Instead I threw my stuff in my car and tried to leave. She was kind enough to move her car that was behind mine back JUST far enough for me to have to turn out and go in the opposite direction of the exit, forcing me to drive all the way around the parking lot.

I love the city, but sometimes I hate living here.

I got you...you on camera...you on candid camera.

I just added Sitemeter to this blog yesterday because I just figured out what it was. Now I find myself checking to see how many of you folks actually see this blog. Uh, addictive. I see where y'all came from and where y'all went next. And if you found this blog through a search engine, I see what terms you searched (that's right mister army.mil...I saw you finding my site by searching "tease" and I hope it was good for you).

Too fun.

Happy Father's Day

Today is a day that far too often does not get the attention maybe it deserves. Oh yeah, in May everyone is scrambling around to get a card or order flowers to send off to moms everywhere, and deservedly so. Sure, they gave birth to us, which I hear is a real feat, but let us not forget those folks who contribute the other 50% of our genetic makeup. Of course I sit here at 9pm on Sunday having not actually called home to wish my dad a Happy Fathers Day, trying to figure out why it is so much more difficult for me to pick up the phone and manage a five minute conversation with him than it would be to do the same with my mother.

Growing up, my father worked in a profession that required he be gone quite a lot. I saw him maybe once during the week and on the weekends. So naturally, as a child, I was far closer to my mother. My mom often recalls stories of how I would act around my father when I was young. I basically wanted little to do with him. After all, my mother was a stay at home mom who was there to feed me, bathe me, love me and spend time with me. Dad was just this fellow who showed up every so often and try as he might, couldn't break through the wall I had built between us. Even as I got older and dad worked far less, it was still nearly impossible for us to bond. I played baseball like my brother did, but he never coached my team and I hated the sport altogether. We never really went fishing or hunting or the things other boys my age seemed to do with their fathers. Maybe he knew those were things that did not interest me and so he didn't try. Every now and then I would go off with my dad when he was gone for work and I really did enjoy the time we had together. But even then, it was clear that he and I were worlds apart.

That said, there has never been one day in my life where I felt like he did not love me and care about me. My father, being the butch, Southern country boy he grew up as is an incredibly sensitive and sweet man with a witty personality and an intellect that sadly he never had the chance to use much in life, having gone straight into the army after high school since his family was too poor to send any of the kids to college. I, the youngest of his four children, was born when my father was in his late 30s. This may have added to the distance between us. He tried often to be close to me and admittedly we were not because I never wanted it.

Though he and I have a relationship void of much conversation or really any words between us other than an occasional "how's work" or "have you checked the air in your tires?", he always knows how to say the right thing to remind me that he cares and loves me. When I came out to my parents right after college, I worried a great deal about how he would react. Though deep down I knew that he would not disown me or anything, I worried that my being gay would be something that would drive the two of us even farther apart than we already were. My father, in the seven years he has known I was gay has only said one thing to me about it. The first time I saw him after they knew I was gay, at dinner, he said to me that the only part of me being gay that bothered him was the fact I didn't feel I could tell them. That me being gay did not bother him and that nothing I ever did in life would be enough to make him stop loving and caring about me. And that was all he ever needed to say...it was enough. I only wish I was able to convey how much he means to me so easily. Nothing hurts me more than hearing my mother remark on more than one occasion that my father felt I didn't love him. It wasn't that I didn't love him, maybe I didn't know how, or didn't know how to show him that I did. That continues even until today, with me sitting here knowing that I will not pick up the phone to wish him a Happy Fathers Day and to tell him that I love him. Something I know I should do because regardless of the distance between the two of us, I know that I am lucky to have the father I do, a man who has done nothing in his life but sacrifice for his children and wife and who though was never able to give us all the material things he may have wanted to, made us feel that we never went without. A simple man of few words who deserves so much more love than maybe he ever received from me. I know one day I will regret having not told him the many times I've had the chance how much he means to me. How much he has given me in life. So though I may never call him, and the card I sent may not be nearly enough to show him how I feel...

Happy Fathers Day dad, I do love you very much.

Is it me...

or is Janice Dickinson starting to look a bit like Amanda Lepore???

People's Hottest Bachelors

I'm not sure what "people" People is trying to represent when they picked these, but here you go:

1. Taylor Hicks

My thought: NO!

2. Nick Lachey

My thought: I'd hit it.

3. Jake Gyllenhaal

My thought: Um, we all know he's numero uno in my book.

4. Donald Faison

My thought: Cute, but if they were going to throw in one African American male, I'm sure there are hotter ones than Donald. I still love him in Clueless.

5. Camilo Villegas

My thought: I have no clue who this is, but he looks like a tranny.

6. Ace Young

My thought: I've been asking him to stick me for months.

7. Bobby Deen

My thought: Who?

8. Jon Tenney

My thought: Again, who?

9. Kenny Chesney

My thought: LMAO - are you kidding me? He hit Zellweger...no thanks.

10. Matthew McConaughey

My thought: I'd hit it...but only if he's high, sweaty and dirty and calls me Buck.

11. Chris Evans

My thought: Again, one of my top ones.

12. Archie Kao

My thought: I have no clue who he is, but I'd totally hit it. Hot.

And finally...

13. Ryan Seacrest

My thought: He's gayer than my luggage. But I'd still hit it.

I hated Fox News...

until I saw this:



Tear "missy" down and buy her a new outfit...

Carrie Reads

I'm going to start a new section called "Carrie Reads" which is where I will pick a place, event, item, whatever and review it. I was inspired to do this having just eaten and what will be the first target of my sassy commentary.

Hank's Oyster Bar

Last night, a few friends and I went to Hank's Oyster Bar. Hank's is relatively new, utilizing the space that was occupied by the former Trio's Pizza, which was closed under suspicious circumstances...something to do with health code violations. Hank's was officially packed and we had a short wait to eat outside on the patio. Let me preface by saying that I am NOT a seafood fan. I don't do much in the way of fish or shrimp or crab or lobster or anything that roams around underwater. I can handle some seafood items like fried calamari and can tolerate some seafood based soups. I'm just not a fan. I was hesitant as to whether I would find anything on the menu to my liking.

Last night's non-seafood special was Slow Roasted Molasses Short Ribs with two sides. I knew this is what I would be ordering because it was the ONLY non-seafood option on the menu. I think this is a bit limited, but I understand it's an oyster bar and they are there to accommodate those with broader palates than my own. My friends ordered 12 oysters as an appetizer. I have never tried oysters. I'm not one to experiment, so unless I'm forced to eat something new, I won't stray far from my typical order of grilled chicken or steak. I decided to be bold and try an oyster. It wasn't terrible. It tasted like sea water and honestly wasn't altogether appetizing to me. I'm not sure I understand the draw.

The ribs come out and while tender and easy to eat, they tasted more like a roasted beef than ribs. I thought that they would be sweet, but were actually quite bland and boring. My two sides, because I'm a 10 year old kid, were mac and cheese and the Old Bay spiced fries. The mac and cheese had zero flavor. Which surprised me because it's mac and cheese which should always be good and easy to make well. Hank's failed at even this. The fries were however good, but honestly who can mess up fries?

One friend got the lobster roll which he says was good. I'll take his word for it. The other got the same thing I did and was as disappointed as I was.

I spent several hours of the night awake and sick to my stomach. I won't blame Hank's...it could just be my body punishing me for trying something new like oysters. But I still feel queasy this morning. And when something like that happens after eating somewhere near, I rarely will ever return to that place again.

In short, Hank's was a big bust for me. If you are a seafood junkie, maybe you'd like it but if seafood is not your thing, try to convince your friends to eat elsewhere if they want to go to Hank's Oyster Bar.

Overheard this weekend

Friend to other Friend: I'll drop you like a bad habit.
Me to Friend: You haven't dropped a bad habit since I've known you.

Also,

Me: Oh there's (insert name)...he is so hot.
Friend: I hear he likes virgins.
Me: What?
Friend: He only likes guys who are virgins.
Me: He'd have a better chance finding a unicorn in this city.

Full of Pride

This past weekend was Gay Pride in DC. In honor of this festive occasion, I've put together the Ten Things I Learned from Pride 2006:

1. The gay community is small. This is often a good thing in that we are a tight-knit group of folks who share common interests and while we may not all know each other, we've certainly all slept with the same people, most of whom you will inevitably bump into drunk in a bar at some point over the weekend.

2. 75 degrees is a much better environment for Pride festivities than 95 degrees. Though even cool 75 degree weather and Kimberly Locke is not enough to drag my ass out of bed and down to that festival on a Sunday.

3. Cut off jean shorts and leather thongs are unacceptable ensembles for any occasion that would require you to be in my presence. Cover up or go home! Also, if you are going to ride on a float for a local DC gym, at least look like you go to the gym.

4. Waiting in line for 20 minutes for the bathroom at JRs seriously eats into ones drinking and socializing time. Also, having bitchy queens snap at you for using the ladies room which "is reserved for ladies" is unnecessary. Especially when the male to female ratio is 10,000 fags : Patti behind the bar. Y'all fell free to wait in line but if the line for the ladies room is shorter and faster, I'm using it.

5. Drinking on the street is fun, regardless of the occasion. Getting struck in the head by a condom being thrown from a parade float while drinking on the street is embarrassing.

6. Gay men twirling batons is funny, I don't care what you think.

7. Vote for that old "lady" in the sequined red, white and blue leotard blowing on a bugle for Mayor of DC!

8. Cookie Buffet needs a new ensemble. That tired rainbow beehive and worn out faded black dress is DONE. Spice it up a bit or don't bother. If you're not sure how to do that, consult with Lena Lett...she clearly cares enough to try.

9. Do not, under any circumstances, prance down 17th Street for 2 hours on Sunday wearing the same outfit you had on the night before, which wasn't cute then and isn't cute now. Take your cracked out fag hag and your fake Christian Dior sunglasses and go home to shower and return when you can behave.

10. Pride = Parade of the exes. And the bitches who your ex slept with before he was your ex. It equals uncomfortable moments at the bar where both of these people are within 10 feet of you and you try desperately to act unphased, while your stomach churns and your heart sinks and you realize that your fantastic night is rapidly evaporating into a sloppy mess. Pride equals a weekend of drunken debauchery required by constantly being reminded that there are hotter guys than you who wouldn't give you the time of day if you were giving away handjobs in the bathroom at Cobalt. It equals a time where we gays come together and read people for their manner of dress or boyfriend of choice. While it is meant to be a weekend of celebration and joy, it essentially becomes a giant hangover where you realize that you're alone, a year older than last Pride and have the realization that being gay isn't always a fun thing.

New Favorite Song

So Hard
the Dixie Chicks

Back when we started
We didn't know how hard it was
Living on nothing
But what the wind would bring to us
Now we've got something
I can imagine fighting for
So why is fighting all that we're good at anymore

And sometimes I don't have the energy
To prove everybody wrong
And I try my best to be strong
But you know it's so hard
It's so hard

It's so hard when it doesn't come easy
It's so hard when it doesn't come fast
It's so hard when it doesn't come easy
It's so hard

It felt like a given
Something a woman's born to do
A natural ambition
To see a reflection of me and you

And I'd feel so guilty
If that was a gift I couldn't give
And could you be happy
If life wasn't how we pictured it

And sometimes I just want to wait it out
To prove everybody wrong
And I need your help to move on
Cause you know it's so hard
It's so hard

It's so hard when it doesn't come easy
It's so hard when it doesn't come fast
It's so hard when it doesn't come easy
So hard

I can live for the moment
When all these clouds open up for me to see
And show me a vision
Of you and me swimming peacefully

Last night you told me
That you can't remember
How to feel free

It's so hard when it doesn't come easy
It's so hard when it doesn't come fast
It's so hard when it doesn't come easy, easy

Still Kicking

Carrie is still alive. Do not fear! She's just been a bit out of touch (with reality) and hasn't sat down long enough to blog about anything. Coming soon:

a gay wedding
a terrible cold
ex factor
out of my league
pride

Tomorrow is Friday! I promise to try to catch up tomorrow!