weekend highs and lows

I normally adore the weekend but this past one was a mixed bag. Here's a recap of its pluses and minuses:

High: A blissfully free Friday night spent watching the first season of The Office and recovering from the rather strange week of swelling, steroids and my rather noxious personality

Low: Bailing on my plans with Jess and Katie and missing the opportunity to rock out with the talented Michael P and Shark Hat in order to have my quiet night alone with Ricky Gervais. Sorry, Michael P! Next time, I promise!

High: Spending a gorgeous and sunny Saturday at Brighton Beach with Jess and Nicola

Low: Witnessing a man turn his boxers into a Speedo to maximize sun exposure on his rump. No lie. The man gave himself a near-atomic wedgie so that his upper thighs and cheeks could see the light of day. It was like nothing I've ever seen before. I really regret not having my camera with me so that I could share this outrageous specimen of pallor and gumption with you.

High: Hanging with Supah and company at Brooklyn Pride

Low: The parade down 7th Ave in Park Slope was a little... um... what's the word? Lackluster. Although I did receive a sticker that said, "Vaginal Pride" and while I never really thought about it before, I realize that, yes, I am quite proud of my cooter. Knock wood, it's healthy and hospitable and gets the job done. So, in summary, yes, I do give mad props to my snatch. To my devoted readers of the female persuasion, I invite you to join me in the beaver adulation. Yours or mine.

High: Attending a raucous Pride party at the newly-opened Cattyshack right after the aforementioned lackluster parade

Low: Having my recently deflated tootsies mashed into oblivion by enthusiastic revelers. 'Twas my bad as I should not have worn flip flops to such an event. Next time I'll be sporting a hearty pair of shit kickers to protect my much put-upon feet.

Low 2: The place was packed with wall-to-wall women which is totally awesome but at the same time, the crowd was rather young and rambunctious. I know I'm only 31 and by all definitions still a spring chicken but I did feel a bit old and out of place. By night's end, I felt so discouraged that I convinced myself that I should maybe take up with the boys again since the girl-on-girl thing ain't working out lately. And then on the way home some greasy guy in the Borough Hall subway station leered at me and said, "Hey, you fine! Maybe I can buy you lunch or dinner?... Hey baby, where you goin'? Oh what... you ain't trying to hear that?" And that right there helped put the brakes on my thoughts of giving heterosexuality another whirl. Well, for now at least.

High: Meeting up with Filomena and Sweet Thomas for dinner at Mary Ann's on Second Avenue

Low: Discovering a stray piece of beef on my otherwise vegetarian plate. It was weird how it just appeared because I swear it wasn't there when I began eating my spinach and artichoke quesadilla. Maybe the person at the table next to me was sawing into their entree and some of the meat broke free and shot over onto my plate when I wasn't looking. At first I thought it was just a weird looking mushroom but upon further examination, I realized it was most definitely NOT. It's funny how the idea of eating fungus doesn't bother me yet eating a cow is completely unacceptable, no?