I did go to the parade. I was stuck at the end of the route, where there wasn't nearly as much music and partying and fun, but there was a protest from some scary gays who dislike the commercialization of Pride. Police came and arrested a few as everyone near them shouted, "Let her go! Let her go!"



Heard Sir Ian McKellen speak at the main stage at Civic Center. But by that point I could feel my face burning up in the sun so we had to bust a bitch outta there. Stupidly, Ben and I decided to go to the beach later on, where my red face darkened a shade. Not so much fun. Nor was climbing up the hill at Fort Funston very fun. To get back to the parking lot from the beach you have to climb this gargantuan, steep-as-a-mofo staircase. Again I say, no fun.



More fun was meeting Marcus and Tim yesterday. It's weird and sort of anticlimactic meeting "Internet friends" because it feels like you're meeting someone for the first time, but you already know so much about each other that all of the easy first-meeting chitchat is gone. (I actually had to tell someone yesterday, "Oh, yeah, so I"m meeting some people I've known for like three years, but who I've never met face to face. How embarrassing)



Last night was pretty cool. We saw a bit of the Dyke March while waiting for the idiots at a restaurant in the Mission to get their shit together and give us a table. We went to the Castro to see the debauchery. I heard stories of men having sex in a window on Castro St. (later confirmed by my roommate's girlfriend) but I didn't see it. I did happen to see three latino guys doing some very nasty things while waiting in line for the bathroom at a bar. That was fun/scary, but most of the night was much more tame, consisting mostly of thousands of people standing around in groups doing very little.



Oh! I almost forgot the best part of yesterday. At Civic Center in the afternoon there was some pre-Pride stuff going on. The best of it, by far, was Mystic Flava, this "Buddhist hip-hop collective." It was this group of like middle school kids who looked really random and out of place on the small DJ stage, but then all of the sudden they started busting out some insane moves. This 11-year-old white boy was the stud of the group - moonwalking around and schooling all the other dancers.

In bed late, out of bed early - that's my usual drunken pattern.



Debating whether to go to the pride parade. Started 30 inutes ago, but I could probably shower and get to the end of Market St. as the beginning is passing.



What to do?

9 a.m. - I wake up. The toilet does not flush. The faucet gives me no water.



9:10 a.m. - Panic about possibly not paying water bill.



9:15 a.m. - Rushing water begins flowing from fire hydrant on corner of street. Utah Street is a veritable river.



Curious morning indeed.

Loving the Corn Pops commercial with the cartoon dancers. So right on.

If you're on the Oprah show, all you have to do to get Oprah to like you or agree with you or deem you worthy, is to use the word spiritual or spirit. Better yet if something you've done is like a spiritual journey. "Reestablishing my credit was like a spiritual awakening, it really fed my spirit."

Here'e the thing about San Francisco. It's really windy and I hate it.



Now, why is Chicago called the windy city? Granted, I've never visited this midwestern metropolis, but I am a faithful Real World viewer and those kids go outside with unbuttoned shirts. They walk around outside and their hair stays put! That does not happen here. I walk up Van Ness every morning and sure enough, I have hold my jacket or shirt down so it doesn't blow back. When I look out my living room window, all the trees are blow-blow-blowing. It's incessant. And it's slowly driving me mad.



Also, speaking of Van Ness, did you know that 50 percent of the city's enormous population of mentally ill homeless hang out in that general vicinity? Well, they do. Damn! San Francisco has a lot of crazy motherfuckers. It's scary and sad and, sometimes, to be honest, sort of funny, because, let's face it, crazy people are generally funny.



I will burn, I'm sure.

It's the first day of summer, you say?



Well, in San Francisco, predictably, it's cold, windy and overcast.



Happy summer.