Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Pittsburgh
Saturday Mr. Perfect and I headed to Pittsburgh. Originally we planned to go to the Royals game that night, but when Mr. Perfect found out Zach was pitching Sunday, we decided to hold off on the game until Sunday so we could see him.
With Saturday free, we took the advice of a commenter and a guide book (why haven't I checked them out from the library before??) and headed over to the Duquesne Incline. 
I don't know what I was expecting, but I was surprised by how steep the incline seemed. The guide book had said that the inclines were built around the city because the hills were too steep to traverse by foot or horse. 
The incline was built in 1877 and still uses two original cars.
It was $2, one way, and the cars were full with 20-25 people each trip. The Duquesne Incline is run by its own preservation society. The only other operational incline in Pittsburgh, the Monongahela Incline, is owned and operated by the Port Authority. It was so strange to consider these two inclines as separate.
Apparently the Duquesne Incline is ranked as one of the most romantic spots in the U.S. Um, I guess I can see that if you have a car to yourselves, but we were always packed in with 20 friends and their kids. It was fun to ride and a great view of the city.
The cars were pretty cool on the inside - I tried to capture some of the carvings and details.
My favorite view was peaking out from between the car and the station at the top of the incline.
The view only got better outside the station.
As we looked around the city, Mr. Perfect pointed out the insane amount of bridges in the city. It makes sense, it's built around the convergence of two rivers, but still, we could see at least 13 bridges.
On the ride up the dense foliage gave a false sense that the car was actually not really suspended very high, that it was following the angle of the hill. I was shocked at one point in the ride when there was a break in the greenery and I could see the hill went straight down.
After the incline, we headed down to the South Flats to walk around. There were an absolute ton of bars, along with a few shops.
When we stopped at a deli to grab a snack, I had a realization.
People in Pittsburgh were not nice.
They weren't technically rude, but from the hotel concierge that wasn't interested in giving information, to the guys at the deli that silently waited on us, to the woman at a funky store that was having none of Mr. Perfect's jokes, they were doing the minimum level of service.
I don't know why, but I was expecting Pittsburgh to be more Midwestern feeling, with outgoing and cheerful personalities. They were pretty much the opposite of that.
Like I said, no one was rude, but at the same time it was a bit jarring. The service at restaurants was so brisk that I felt like I was taking up too much of their time by asking for a recommendation.
Mr. Perfect compared the Pittsburghers (hehehe, burgers) to New Yorkers. I feel like New Yorkers may be a bit rough around the edges, but are ready to engage in conversation - especially when it comes to offering their opinions.
It seemed to me that Pittsburgh was a no-nonsense city and I'm a full of nonsense gal.
We headed back to our hotel to relax for a bit before dinner at the famous Primanti Brothers. Legend says that the sandwiches, which include coleslaw and fries, were invented out of necessity - they allowed dock workers to eat a full meal while still working with one hand. The Primanti website has a different story - simply that some customers asked for fried potatoes one night, so they threw them on a sammie.
Regardless of its origins, it was good eats. After studying the menu boards for a bit, I had it narrowed down to pastrami and steak and cheese. The menu said, "No. 2 seller" next to steak and cheese, which I had mentally converted to a cheese steak sandwich. I asked the waiter for recommendations and he said the pastrami was his favorite. Mr. Perfect and I decided to get both and share.
Here's the pastrami
The "steak" and cheese wasn't worth a photo. Seriously. It was gross. Mr. Perfect thought it was fine, but man, to me it was as bland as a cafeteria compressed meat high water content burger.
Yuck.
I know part of my disappointment was due to the fact that I had read it as cheese steak, but Cheesus! I just don't feel like there is a reason for such a gross excuse for steak.
Stick with the pastrami folks, it was awesome. I think I would probably order the fries on the side next time, but loved the addition of the oil and vinegar coleslaw.
After a fabulously filling meal, we weren't quite sure where to go. I wanted to have a drink outside, but didn't care where. We ate at the Primanti Brothers in the Strip and had planned to find a bar around the restaurant to hang out after eating. However, when we left Primanti Brothers, it was difficult to tell if we were in an ok area, or total sketchville.
Not like the Strip itself was easy to understand. It was an old industrial area with tons of warehouses and what looked like loading docks. Every street looks like a shady little alley. We walked a block or two and saw what looked like some skeevy clubs. After a guy walked by wearing knee-high fur boots and booty shorts, I did remember reading about some gay bars in the area, but that was about it.
Basically, no one walked by that I was interested in talking to, let alone following to a bar. While we waited for a bar I tried to figure out if a woman I saw was a prostitute or not. Jury is still out.
We cabbed it back over to the South Side Flats and found a nice restaurant with seating outside.
It was a beautiful night for some wine and dirty martinis.
The next morning, we drove down to the Strip and were surprised to see a completely different atmosphere. It was bustling with people walking around, shopping, and getting brunch. The streets were covered with vendors selling everything Steelers.
There are two famous greasy spoon type breakfast joints in the Strip - Pamela's and DeLuca's. Unfortunately, they both had lines of 15-30 people.
While considering our options, Mr. Perfect spotted a coffee shop I had read about in the guide book. La Prima Espresso was described as an authentic Italian coffee shop, complete with old men reading Italian newspapers.
That was a spot-on description, substituting tables of men speaking in Italian and playing cards for reading newspapers. It was pretty great. I will always love La Prima Espresso, because this is where we met the only friendly and outgoing people in Pittsburgh, even if we didn't take their recommendation to eat at the Fish Market.
Coffee in hand, we considered our dining options.
The night before, we had contemplated other dishes we would want to try at Primanti's and both decided bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches would be tasty. We thought Primanti Brothers was a safe bet for brunch - it was a good sized restaurant and had fast service.
Uh, think again.
There were about 40 people waiting outside there! Yikes!
Thankfully, we found a little Italian cafe that was still serving breakfast. The Strip was basically Little Italy, in case you were wondering.
Finally full, and we were off to the ballpark!
The incline was built in 1877 and still uses two original cars.
It was $2, one way, and the cars were full with 20-25 people each trip. The Duquesne Incline is run by its own preservation society. The only other operational incline in Pittsburgh, the Monongahela Incline, is owned and operated by the Port Authority. It was so strange to consider these two inclines as separate.
Apparently the Duquesne Incline is ranked as one of the most romantic spots in the U.S. Um, I guess I can see that if you have a car to yourselves, but we were always packed in with 20 friends and their kids. It was fun to ride and a great view of the city.
The cars were pretty cool on the inside - I tried to capture some of the carvings and details.
My favorite view was peaking out from between the car and the station at the top of the incline.
The view only got better outside the station.
As we looked around the city, Mr. Perfect pointed out the insane amount of bridges in the city. It makes sense, it's built around the convergence of two rivers, but still, we could see at least 13 bridges.
On the ride up the dense foliage gave a false sense that the car was actually not really suspended very high, that it was following the angle of the hill. I was shocked at one point in the ride when there was a break in the greenery and I could see the hill went straight down.
After the incline, we headed down to the South Flats to walk around. There were an absolute ton of bars, along with a few shops.When we stopped at a deli to grab a snack, I had a realization.
People in Pittsburgh were not nice.
They weren't technically rude, but from the hotel concierge that wasn't interested in giving information, to the guys at the deli that silently waited on us, to the woman at a funky store that was having none of Mr. Perfect's jokes, they were doing the minimum level of service.
I don't know why, but I was expecting Pittsburgh to be more Midwestern feeling, with outgoing and cheerful personalities. They were pretty much the opposite of that.
Like I said, no one was rude, but at the same time it was a bit jarring. The service at restaurants was so brisk that I felt like I was taking up too much of their time by asking for a recommendation.
Mr. Perfect compared the Pittsburghers (hehehe, burgers) to New Yorkers. I feel like New Yorkers may be a bit rough around the edges, but are ready to engage in conversation - especially when it comes to offering their opinions.
It seemed to me that Pittsburgh was a no-nonsense city and I'm a full of nonsense gal.
We headed back to our hotel to relax for a bit before dinner at the famous Primanti Brothers. Legend says that the sandwiches, which include coleslaw and fries, were invented out of necessity - they allowed dock workers to eat a full meal while still working with one hand. The Primanti website has a different story - simply that some customers asked for fried potatoes one night, so they threw them on a sammie.
Regardless of its origins, it was good eats. After studying the menu boards for a bit, I had it narrowed down to pastrami and steak and cheese. The menu said, "No. 2 seller" next to steak and cheese, which I had mentally converted to a cheese steak sandwich. I asked the waiter for recommendations and he said the pastrami was his favorite. Mr. Perfect and I decided to get both and share.
Here's the pastrami
The "steak" and cheese wasn't worth a photo. Seriously. It was gross. Mr. Perfect thought it was fine, but man, to me it was as bland as a cafeteria compressed meat high water content burger.Yuck.
I know part of my disappointment was due to the fact that I had read it as cheese steak, but Cheesus! I just don't feel like there is a reason for such a gross excuse for steak.
Stick with the pastrami folks, it was awesome. I think I would probably order the fries on the side next time, but loved the addition of the oil and vinegar coleslaw.
After a fabulously filling meal, we weren't quite sure where to go. I wanted to have a drink outside, but didn't care where. We ate at the Primanti Brothers in the Strip and had planned to find a bar around the restaurant to hang out after eating. However, when we left Primanti Brothers, it was difficult to tell if we were in an ok area, or total sketchville.
Not like the Strip itself was easy to understand. It was an old industrial area with tons of warehouses and what looked like loading docks. Every street looks like a shady little alley. We walked a block or two and saw what looked like some skeevy clubs. After a guy walked by wearing knee-high fur boots and booty shorts, I did remember reading about some gay bars in the area, but that was about it.
Basically, no one walked by that I was interested in talking to, let alone following to a bar. While we waited for a bar I tried to figure out if a woman I saw was a prostitute or not. Jury is still out.
We cabbed it back over to the South Side Flats and found a nice restaurant with seating outside.
It was a beautiful night for some wine and dirty martinis.
The next morning, we drove down to the Strip and were surprised to see a completely different atmosphere. It was bustling with people walking around, shopping, and getting brunch. The streets were covered with vendors selling everything Steelers.
There are two famous greasy spoon type breakfast joints in the Strip - Pamela's and DeLuca's. Unfortunately, they both had lines of 15-30 people.
While considering our options, Mr. Perfect spotted a coffee shop I had read about in the guide book. La Prima Espresso was described as an authentic Italian coffee shop, complete with old men reading Italian newspapers.
That was a spot-on description, substituting tables of men speaking in Italian and playing cards for reading newspapers. It was pretty great. I will always love La Prima Espresso, because this is where we met the only friendly and outgoing people in Pittsburgh, even if we didn't take their recommendation to eat at the Fish Market.
Coffee in hand, we considered our dining options.
The night before, we had contemplated other dishes we would want to try at Primanti's and both decided bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches would be tasty. We thought Primanti Brothers was a safe bet for brunch - it was a good sized restaurant and had fast service.
Uh, think again.
There were about 40 people waiting outside there! Yikes!
Thankfully, we found a little Italian cafe that was still serving breakfast. The Strip was basically Little Italy, in case you were wondering.
Finally full, and we were off to the ballpark!
The Best Around
I got a new temp placement for today and possibly tomorrow. It's the absolute best kind (well, almost, the pay is a bit low) right by the orange line, nice people, and they don't care if I use the interwebs.
Yessss!
Yessss!
Monday, June 29, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
The 'Burgh?
Mr. Perfect and I are heading to Pittsburgh tomorrow to catch a Royals game (or two).
I've never been - any tips or must-see places? We're staying downtown near the ballpark (which is consistently rated one of the top 10 in the nation).
I'm excited about this trip as it is our first road trip in the area. There are a ton of cities close by that I'm pumped to see - Philly, Boston, NYC again. That is one thing to love about living here, so many places to visit within driving distance.
Hopefully later in the summer we'll make it up to Maine.
I've never been - any tips or must-see places? We're staying downtown near the ballpark (which is consistently rated one of the top 10 in the nation).
I'm excited about this trip as it is our first road trip in the area. There are a ton of cities close by that I'm pumped to see - Philly, Boston, NYC again. That is one thing to love about living here, so many places to visit within driving distance.
Hopefully later in the summer we'll make it up to Maine.
Secrets
Yesterday I ventured over to Dupont to check out the PostSecret exhibit at Hillyer Art Space.
This card was online - I laughed out loud at it then, and giggled quietly yesterday when I saw it. The boogada boogada gets me every time!
Oh, and in case you have noticed, the exhibit was titled Confessions on Life, Death and God - most of the cards were about religion and faith.
I loved this one. 
I thought this one was really touching.
The exhibit was two rooms, one with cards sent in, the other with a few cards that were sent in and a table with pens and crayons where you could make your own secret and put it on display. At the end of the show (June 26th) all the cards will be collected and added to Frank's collection.
It was a bit smaller than I thought, and I was hoping for more postcards that hadn't been previously posted online, but all in all it was a good time. I would say I'm glad I didn't plan my day around it, but come on, I got nothing going on here. I totally planned my day around it.
I snapped some shots of the cards that I enjoyed the most.
This card was online - I laughed out loud at it then, and giggled quietly yesterday when I saw it. The boogada boogada gets me every time!
Oh, and in case you have noticed, the exhibit was titled Confessions on Life, Death and God - most of the cards were about religion and faith.
I loved this one. I thought this one was really touching.
The exhibit was two rooms, one with cards sent in, the other with a few cards that were sent in and a table with pens and crayons where you could make your own secret and put it on display. At the end of the show (June 26th) all the cards will be collected and added to Frank's collection. At first most of the cards seemed really juvenile and fake, but the longer I looked, the more "real" secrets I saw. You could tell where there were pockets of youth groups or school trips though.
Some people even brought their own cards from home and hung them up. I am always intrigued by cards made out of actual photos. I wonder if this guy will happen to stop by and see himself on the wall...
There were quite a few cards about keeping kosher, or really, not keeping kosher. This was a favorite.
Some people even brought their own cards from home and hung them up. I am always intrigued by cards made out of actual photos. I wonder if this guy will happen to stop by and see himself on the wall...There were quite a few cards about keeping kosher, or really, not keeping kosher. This was a favorite.
I was glad I took the time to visit the gallery, but like I said before it was a bit smaller than expected. I have nothing but time, so I ended up spending about 40 minutes there, mostly look at cards people had made at the show.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Not a Good Idea
Mr. Perfect has an Ipod alarm clock. I will never forget the first time it went off, it scared the crap completely out of me because it was blaring music. He was still asleep.
Since then I've become a bit more accustomed to it, but some songs are certainly better to wake up to than others.
The perfect example came a while back when I was jolted out of bed by a high-pitched scream. Ladies and gentlemen, I don't recommend setting your alarms to wake up to Smooth Criminal.
Since then I've become a bit more accustomed to it, but some songs are certainly better to wake up to than others.
The perfect example came a while back when I was jolted out of bed by a high-pitched scream. Ladies and gentlemen, I don't recommend setting your alarms to wake up to Smooth Criminal.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Haiku Tuesday
Lounging in the sun.
"Someone meeting you?" She points.
Alone at the pool.
Bags sit on lounge chairs.
Owners stay in the water,
but they keep the chairs.
Cashing my last check,
she asks if it's my day off.
I stutter a lie.
"Someone meeting you?" She points.
Alone at the pool.
Bags sit on lounge chairs.
Owners stay in the water,
but they keep the chairs.
Cashing my last check,
she asks if it's my day off.
I stutter a lie.
Today's Unemployed To Do's
1) Do a test run on the every so popular yellow nails. Why? Because I don't have an office full of coworkers to explain jaundiced nails to. Consider it a test drive, just for you! 
I consider the Sally Hanson Lightening a success.
I consider the Sally Hanson Lightening a success.2) Get off my butt, out of the house and to a museum. Specifically, a PostSecret exhibit. It's free, I love PostSecret, and Cheesus, no one should be home alone this much. Also, a bit pinkish from falling asleep at the pool yesterday. Perhaps I should alternate pool days with museum days.
I suppose "Get a Job" should be on there somewhere. Meh.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Monkeying Around
The other night, Mr. Perfect went to his office to pick up something he forgot and came back with this: 
Which I quickly assumed was poop on a string. It was the most vile, nasty looking thing ever. As soon as he saw me vomiting in my mouth, he tried to throw it on me. 
And that concludes the story of the time my boyfriend threw poop* at me.
Which I quickly assumed was poop on a string. It was the most vile, nasty looking thing ever. As soon as he saw me vomiting in my mouth, he tried to throw it on me. 
And that concludes the story of the time my boyfriend threw poop* at me.I don't know if you can tell, but there ain't a lot going on around here.
*When poop = sausage
Monday, June 22, 2009
Must Read
A Jezebel article about women and their role in the protests in Iran. I was extremely moved by this portion:
There were lots of female protestors - I saw a guard attack one women and then she went back up to him and grabbed him by the collar and said 'why are you doing this? Are you not an Iranian?' - BBC via Jezebel
I can't help but feel this way
This is my new favorite Passive Aggressive notes. 
PassiveAggressiveNotes.com is kinda why I love the interwebs.
PassiveAggressiveNotes.com is kinda why I love the interwebs.I'm ok
I just got 4 texts within one minute as the news of the metro crash got out.
I'm fine. I uh, I was at the pool. I suppose a reason to be thankful for my unemployed state.
It's horrible looking. I hope all my red line friends are ok.
I'm fine. I uh, I was at the pool. I suppose a reason to be thankful for my unemployed state.
It's horrible looking. I hope all my red line friends are ok.
Carded
Last week I went to The Papery, one of my favorite stores. I love stationary and cards, have I never mentioned this? I have a huge box devoted to cards, postcards, and stationary. yeah.
Anywhore, two of my friends recently had babies and I wanted to get them cards. Erika had twin girls, and Meaghan had a little boy.
Being an idiot, I decided to enjoy the nice weather by sitting on a bench near the store and writing the cards, then sealing them - knowing that I would totally remember which card was for which person when I addressed them later. I didn't want to write their names on the cards then (neurotic warning) because I didn't have their full addresses and didn't want them to be in different ink or look... wow, this is so stupid I can't even write it.
So here I am, almost a week later, staring at my sealed cards. I'm pretty sure which is which... but uh, Erika and Meaghan... heads up.
Anywhore, two of my friends recently had babies and I wanted to get them cards. Erika had twin girls, and Meaghan had a little boy.
Being an idiot, I decided to enjoy the nice weather by sitting on a bench near the store and writing the cards, then sealing them - knowing that I would totally remember which card was for which person when I addressed them later. I didn't want to write their names on the cards then (neurotic warning) because I didn't have their full addresses and didn't want them to be in different ink or look... wow, this is so stupid I can't even write it.
So here I am, almost a week later, staring at my sealed cards. I'm pretty sure which is which... but uh, Erika and Meaghan... heads up.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Kansas Dreamin'
Last night I dreamt I was walking down a small road, really more like a worn path, wide enough for only one truck or tractor. The road ran through a corn field. My brothers and Dad were there, in the field. I was walking down the path, hurrying to help water the corn (yeah, it's a dream).
Suddenly, I yelled out to Kevin - at the same time he yelled to me to stop watering - the corn field went from dry to damp, then completely under water. To the point that the road was covered and I had to turn back.
I ran to find Dad, in a complete panic that so much of our crop was swimming in water.
That's pretty much it.
I have no clue what, if anything it means, but the crazy in me would like to say it is symbolic for the feeling of panic and sense of being out of control that my job search sometimes inspires in me.
I think it's more likely a combination of reading wheat harvest updates on Facebook, my mom posting about a storm projected to hit our farm, and watching news reports about too-wet crops.
It's strange that I'm getting to a point in my life where most of my summers have no longer been on the farm. All those days, dreaming of trips into Town to go to Wal-Mart to experience the blessing which is air conditioning. Or better yet, praying for permission to stay another night, or two, or three with my best friend Maria. Her only child home was like a vacation resort complete with air conditioning, junk food, cable tv, and plenty of trips to Wal-Mart, McDonald's and other fabulous locations around town. Summer was standing in the field as a marker while Dad sprayed beans. Running away from Dad/chores. Watching Days of our Lives with Shell (when I was about 6 years old). Building massive mud hole/swimming holes with GDSean. Exploring the out buildings and groupings of trees, making up stories as I went about people that had been there before me. Grilling hamburgers for my brothers and our hired help, and burning my bangs and eyebrows while I was at it.
Nothing makes me think of home like summer.
Suddenly, I yelled out to Kevin - at the same time he yelled to me to stop watering - the corn field went from dry to damp, then completely under water. To the point that the road was covered and I had to turn back.
I ran to find Dad, in a complete panic that so much of our crop was swimming in water.
That's pretty much it.
I have no clue what, if anything it means, but the crazy in me would like to say it is symbolic for the feeling of panic and sense of being out of control that my job search sometimes inspires in me.
I think it's more likely a combination of reading wheat harvest updates on Facebook, my mom posting about a storm projected to hit our farm, and watching news reports about too-wet crops.
It's strange that I'm getting to a point in my life where most of my summers have no longer been on the farm. All those days, dreaming of trips into Town to go to Wal-Mart to experience the blessing which is air conditioning. Or better yet, praying for permission to stay another night, or two, or three with my best friend Maria. Her only child home was like a vacation resort complete with air conditioning, junk food, cable tv, and plenty of trips to Wal-Mart, McDonald's and other fabulous locations around town. Summer was standing in the field as a marker while Dad sprayed beans. Running away from Dad/chores. Watching Days of our Lives with Shell (when I was about 6 years old). Building massive mud hole/swimming holes with GDSean. Exploring the out buildings and groupings of trees, making up stories as I went about people that had been there before me. Grilling hamburgers for my brothers and our hired help, and burning my bangs and eyebrows while I was at it.
Nothing makes me think of home like summer.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Pride Festival
Sunday I headed down to Pennsylvania Ave. with Marky to check out the Pride Festival. 
As we approached the stage, I could hear some audio that sounded reallly familiar and saw two drag queens acting out a scene.
Suddenly, it came to me. Mommy Dearest!!!
I wanted to die laughing, thinking about the stories Heather has told me about playing Mommy Dearest with her sisters and cousins when they were little. That basically meant they screamed, "No more wire hangers!!!" at each other.
I tried to get some crowd shots to show the incredible diversity, but eh, they mostly just turned out like this:
How awesome is it to have drag queens performing with the Capitol in the background?
As we approached the stage, I could hear some audio that sounded reallly familiar and saw two drag queens acting out a scene.Suddenly, it came to me. Mommy Dearest!!!
I wanted to die laughing, thinking about the stories Heather has told me about playing Mommy Dearest with her sisters and cousins when they were little. That basically meant they screamed, "No more wire hangers!!!" at each other. I tried to get some crowd shots to show the incredible diversity, but eh, they mostly just turned out like this:
How awesome is it to have drag queens performing with the Capitol in the background?This performing came on right after I told Mark if I didn't get some Britney I was going to be angry. Sadly, she looked better than Britney at the 2007 MTV Music Video Awards. Yikes.
Her wig reminds me of George Washington.
Her wig reminds me of George Washington.
The drag shows at the Festival totally solidified my need to go to Town for a drag show. They were incredible with a really great group of backup dancers.
DC COWBOYS!!! YESSSS!!!
The absolute best part of the festival was watching for lost tourists. We saw two separate couples wander through the crowd. The first couple was on a mission to get out of whatever was happening!!! The wife kept turning around to see if her husband was still behind her. Hilarious, like she was going to turn around to find him with his shirt off dancing along with the drag queens if she didn't watch him close enough. The icing on the cake was "Little old Bitty Pissant Country Place" was playing as they stumbled through the crowd (video of performance here). As the walked by us, the song hit the line "ain't nothing dirty going on!" And I died. 
Unfortunately, I've decided to crop the bum, considering I'm still job searching. For some reason I think my future employers will be ok with me and one leather man, but two (including bare cheeked chaps man) just may be too much.
DC COWBOYS!!! YESSSS!!!
The absolute best part of the festival was watching for lost tourists. We saw two separate couples wander through the crowd. The first couple was on a mission to get out of whatever was happening!!! The wife kept turning around to see if her husband was still behind her. Hilarious, like she was going to turn around to find him with his shirt off dancing along with the drag queens if she didn't watch him close enough. The icing on the cake was "Little old Bitty Pissant Country Place" was playing as they stumbled through the crowd (video of performance here). As the walked by us, the song hit the line "ain't nothing dirty going on!" And I died. The second couple was still entertaining, but not as neurotic. They wandered in front of us, looking around with wide eyes, camera clicking away. They actually hung out and watched some of the performances before moving along.
Aw, tourists! So cute. Especially when lost at a gay street festival.
On our way out, I donated some money to AIDS research and asked this gentleman if I could take a picture with him.
He was really sweet and asked if I wanted just him, or him and his uh, friend in the photo too. I was like, hey, the more the merrier!
Then his friend asked if I wanted him bum to the camera. As I pondered this question, he taunted, "What's Mom going to say??"
I laughed, he turned bum to the camera and Mark snapped away.
Unfortunately, I've decided to crop the bum, considering I'm still job searching. For some reason I think my future employers will be ok with me and one leather man, but two (including bare cheeked chaps man) just may be too much.
Oh, and as for what Mom would say?
Via Facebook (where the un-edited photo is on display): Hand Sanitizer!!!!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Networking
I just had a great power nap to get ready for a K-State Happy Hour tonight. I'm hoping to meet some swell alum that want to whisk me away to my dream job. (meaning a full time PR job)
Shell's advice, "It's like dating! You can't be too desperate!"
This, after I told her I was getting ready to take a nap. I don't think I can be considered desperate if I'm napping.
Hopefully I don't throw myself at the first person I hear say, "I work in PR."
Shell's advice, "It's like dating! You can't be too desperate!"
This, after I told her I was getting ready to take a nap. I don't think I can be considered desperate if I'm napping.
Hopefully I don't throw myself at the first person I hear say, "I work in PR."
Pride Parade Part 2
What better way to start part 2 of my Pride Parade coverage than with gay square dancers?!?
And drag queens!
And beads! Shockingly, this was not a boobs for beads kind of crowd. But still, I totally got the best beads - rainbow! 
This float got some of the biggest applause from the audience.
It seemed like their was an organization for pretty much anyone.
One of at least 5 religious organizations.
And drag queens!
And beads! Shockingly, this was not a boobs for beads kind of crowd. But still, I totally got the best beads - rainbow! This float got some of the biggest applause from the audience.Ladies and Gents, the Scoop Your Poop float:
It seemed like their was an organization for pretty much anyone.
One of at least 5 religious organizations.And bowlers! I am disappointed they don't have a better slogan. And when I say better I mean one that includes balls. I'd suggest, Capital Area Rainbowlers, We Know Balls. Or - We Handle Balls Well. Or - Ask to See Our Balls. Really, the options are limitless. And tact-less.
Still waving!
This was some totally random group that included this drag queen shaking her groove thing...
closely followed by a group of small children...
Umm, I just like this float, that is all.
I felt so bad that no one would tell this guy his pants pockets were totally ripped!
Awkward!
Annnnd these guys!
At first I was totally bummed (hehehe) that their float went by us right as one song and dance routine ended. But I changed my mind when I saw the start of the next routine:
Man, girlfriend's shoes puts me to shame. Most of the drag queens did, though. Their huge wigs, tight dress, layers of make up and, ahem, other necessary prep work was impressive in the heat.
This guy was the grand finale to the parade.
What a finale, indeed!
He never stopped...
Still waving!
This was some totally random group that included this drag queen shaking her groove thing...
closely followed by a group of small children...
Umm, I just like this float, that is all.
I felt so bad that no one would tell this guy his pants pockets were totally ripped!
Awkward!Speaking of awkward, it's the lesbians! Ok, that was mean, but seriously - the ladies were totally put to shame by the drag queens.
Annnnd these guys!
At first I was totally bummed (hehehe) that their float went by us right as one song and dance routine ended. But I changed my mind when I saw the start of the next routine:
More drag queens!
Man, girlfriend's shoes puts me to shame. Most of the drag queens did, though. Their huge wigs, tight dress, layers of make up and, ahem, other necessary prep work was impressive in the heat.
And yeah, this will never be me either.
This guy was the grand finale to the parade.
What a finale, indeed!
The parade was a fabulous time. I honestly cannot think of another time or place where I've been surrounded by a more diverse mix or people, or a happier, nicer crowd. It was awe inspiring to see the support and love that radiated from everyone. Of course most of the photo-worthy participants in the parade were caricatures or walking stereotypes.
What I couldn't capture via photos was the crowd and other participants.
There were the very young - babies of some gay and lesbian couples - and the very old. I was shocked at the number of old (70 years old and up) people at the Pride festivities.
I couldn't help but wonder about the older participants the most.
What was their story?
How long had they been able to live a free and out of the closet life?
What did this parade, these events mean to them?
I can't even fathom all they've seen and been through.
There were people of every race, size, shape and social class. It was such a reminder that being gay doesn't mean anything about the way you look, dress, talk or act. I know that is obvious for most people, but how often do you hear that someone does or doesn't "look gay" or "act gay."
I can't even fathom all they've seen and been through.
There were people of every race, size, shape and social class. It was such a reminder that being gay doesn't mean anything about the way you look, dress, talk or act. I know that is obvious for most people, but how often do you hear that someone does or doesn't "look gay" or "act gay."
Yes, it is easier to understand people that are different by relying on stereotypes, but stereotypes don't always fit. Stereotypes, especially when it comes to the LGBT world, seem to be a defense mechanism for straight people. I don't understand it, so I'm going to tightly compartmentalize it and make fun of it. See the phrase: That's so gay.
I challenge you to push your own boundaries, make less assumptions about people, and to try to get to know them instead.
It really was a beautiful and uplifting, not to mention hilariously funny and entertaining day.
He never stopped...
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