So remember that time I told you that Pride was this past weekend and I would update you? Well...I didn't lie. Here is the update. Boom. I am not a liar. Score one for Team Fab! Before I tell you about my fabulous glitter filled weekend I have to tell you about my pact I made with a small group of my friends to not drink for a month.
I know, shocking right? Over Memorial Day weekend I was with some of my lady friends and the decision was made as the weekend was winding down. For some reason we decided that it would be a good idea to limit our drinking before a wedding we are all going to at the end of June. I stayed quiet during most of this only chiming in every once in awhile because I enjoy good beverage or two. A good drank or two allows me to dance like there is no tomorrow, mack it like my lips will fall off if I don't continue, and fall in love strippers and straight men. I am not a slave to the drank or an alcoholic...but I meannnn cahhhhm ahhhhn. (Judgement stops here...rude.)
We weren't going to go cold turkey...well, because that's just something that's too over zealous for a group of kids in their mid-twenties to do. The girls decided they were allowed 4 drinks, total, in a week and I was allowed 7 drinks. We fdecided to start an email chain, "Sober and Sexy", to help motivate each other not to drink. Needless to say....I failed miserably. A solid 72hrs after this deal was sealed I went to the strip club and obviously needed social lubrication to make it through.
I told the group the next day with my head held low and feeling shameful, and you know what they did? They turned out to be the most terrible AA group I have ever heard of. I didn't realize it was a competition...I tried to win back their trust and didn't go out at all the next weekend. I missed a BAR crawl for them and dancing in the club with old friendz. This did nothing to win them over and I was shamed into the corner. One of my lady friends even gchatted me to let me know how horribly I had failed. I felt like I was on the Intervention episode of It's Always Sunny.
I know, shocking right? Over Memorial Day weekend I was with some of my lady friends and the decision was made as the weekend was winding down. For some reason we decided that it would be a good idea to limit our drinking before a wedding we are all going to at the end of June. I stayed quiet during most of this only chiming in every once in awhile because I enjoy good beverage or two. A good drank or two allows me to dance like there is no tomorrow, mack it like my lips will fall off if I don't continue, and fall in love strippers and straight men. I am not a slave to the drank or an alcoholic...but I meannnn cahhhhm ahhhhn. (Judgement stops here...rude.)
We weren't going to go cold turkey...well, because that's just something that's too over zealous for a group of kids in their mid-twenties to do. The girls decided they were allowed 4 drinks, total, in a week and I was allowed 7 drinks. We fdecided to start an email chain, "Sober and Sexy", to help motivate each other not to drink. Needless to say....I failed miserably. A solid 72hrs after this deal was sealed I went to the strip club and obviously needed social lubrication to make it through.
I told the group the next day with my head held low and feeling shameful, and you know what they did? They turned out to be the most terrible AA group I have ever heard of. I didn't realize it was a competition...I tried to win back their trust and didn't go out at all the next weekend. I missed a BAR crawl for them and dancing in the club with old friendz. This did nothing to win them over and I was shamed into the corner. One of my lady friends even gchatted me to let me know how horribly I had failed. I felt like I was on the Intervention episode of It's Always Sunny.
(Check it out: Intervention)
Anywhoz, I told you all of that because I'd like to be able to blame them for my dying at Pride in DC. I figure I am nothing if not a good "blamer on others" and this seems like the perfect time to do this. I would also like to take a moment to blame a couple of other people for my "state" of being on Saturday.
- The waiter, Drew--- he was charming and kept bringing carafes of alcohol to our table like it was his job or something. (Facts, it was his job. Facts, he did a damn good job)
- The Allies --- none of them stopped me from consuming carafes like they were water. (they also might have been inebriated)
- My Parents --- their love of a good breakfast fruity drink was passed on to me and in the end....we all blame our parents for everything anyways right?
Ok, now that the blame is allocated to the correct people I can continue. I went to brunch with a group of my favorite Allies and proceeded to drink mimosa's like I'd just lost my job and my only true form of happiness would be found at the bottom of my glass.
So drinks were a-flowin' and laughs were being had and somewhere along the line I decided that it would be a good idea to post photos to Facebook/Instagram/Twitter like it was my new job. This caused me to be extra vain and constantly check who was "liking" and commenting on the photos. (I deemed everyone who didn't like the photos to be homophobic. It's a thing).
At some point during the hullabaloo I began texting with my mother. Now I have mentioned before, Mama Fabulous and I are pretty tight when it comes to Mother-Gay Son relationships, but it has gone to far now. I need to be stopped. I need my phone taken away from me, because for some reason I have decided it is good for me to "drunk dial" my parents on a regular basis. (Yup...I drunk dial my parents...judge away). It usually only happens when I am day drinking or fairly early in the night after a happy hour of sorts, but always ends with them talking to me like a child.
This was our "Pride Day" convo;
Me: Hi there Mama Fabulous, you are so wonderful.
Mama Fabulous: Hi! Is everything okay?
Me: Yeah, you know, just here with some girls eating brunch.
Mama Fabulous: That's great! Are you having fun?
Me: Oh definitely. I called to tell you that I am grateful that you like gay people. So many people have bad parents who don't like them. You are good. You are a good parent. Thanks for not being terrible. I am less damaged.
Mama Fabulous: Well, you're welcome I think. Have you been drinking at all?
Me: Just a little bit, its early. I have had brunch. I would say this to you without the drinks, because you are good.
Mama Fabulous: I don't want you missing out on more fun talking to me, why don't we chat more tomorrow.
Me: Look how good you are, I won't miss out on fun. I am fun. Love you!
Mama Fabulous: Love you too, please be safe.
I am a mess. Who drunk dials their mother? WHO? (That's a rhetorical question...jerk). I have a phone full of people who would love to talk to me and who might also be day drinking and can understand my logic. Jeez, I could also open Grindr...which may or may not have found it's way back on my phone. Uhh...errr.. I was mugged and someone grabbed my phone and then put Grindr on it and then made me keep it on there. It's not my fault. I. was. mugged. (I will go to any lengths to blame others for my actions....). Instead I called my mother.
Outside of that, the parade went off without a hitch and everything was fantabulous. We watched in the scorching heat as rainbow boa's, ass-less chaps, pink cars, drag queens, famous gays, politicians, and religious groups marched around Dupont Circle in support of the most amazing community of people. I purchased enough rainbow crap to last a life time and proceeded to lose a majority of it over the course of the day. I also did that thing where I become insanely generous and bought my group a bunch of rainbow stuff too, that they also lost throughout the day. Overall it was a bad day for money but a good day for Fabulously Lost.
In my head I made connections with a ton of the people marching. I felt myself "making eyes" and falling in love with several of the groups. I also got some stellar photos of my favorite groups:
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I also took about 42 "videos" that I thought were pictures...so I missed a lot of the cool floats due to my inability to use my fat fingers properly. As the parade finished so did my tolerance. I ended up passing out with my Twin until almost midnight. We missed several gay dance parties, made some queen's very frustrated, but ended up having a grand time staying up watching Footloose.
Ok, ok, so I know it wasn't as eventful and crazy as I thought it would be either. I got drunk, bought rainbow crap, called my mother, and slept. It was a lovely day but I think this weekend with Baltimore Pride might end up being a little bit crazier. Most people tend to think that DC is better than Baltimore for most things, and they may be right, but I know Baltimore like the back of my hand. I know the ins and outs of that little gay community and I suspect there to be some cray cray shiznat to go down. Hold on tight ladys and gents...this might be (hopefully is... *wink, nudge, nod*) a bumpy ride.
Fabulously Lost: Owner of more Rainbows than San Francisco
My Liver: A medical phenomenon
Mama Fabulous: A saint for dealing with me
Photography: Not a job option
So drinks were a-flowin' and laughs were being had and somewhere along the line I decided that it would be a good idea to post photos to Facebook/Instagram/Twitter like it was my new job. This caused me to be extra vain and constantly check who was "liking" and commenting on the photos. (I deemed everyone who didn't like the photos to be homophobic. It's a thing).
At some point during the hullabaloo I began texting with my mother. Now I have mentioned before, Mama Fabulous and I are pretty tight when it comes to Mother-Gay Son relationships, but it has gone to far now. I need to be stopped. I need my phone taken away from me, because for some reason I have decided it is good for me to "drunk dial" my parents on a regular basis. (Yup...I drunk dial my parents...judge away). It usually only happens when I am day drinking or fairly early in the night after a happy hour of sorts, but always ends with them talking to me like a child.
This was our "Pride Day" convo;
Me: Hi there Mama Fabulous, you are so wonderful.
Mama Fabulous: Hi! Is everything okay?
Me: Yeah, you know, just here with some girls eating brunch.
Mama Fabulous: That's great! Are you having fun?
Me: Oh definitely. I called to tell you that I am grateful that you like gay people. So many people have bad parents who don't like them. You are good. You are a good parent. Thanks for not being terrible. I am less damaged.
Mama Fabulous: Well, you're welcome I think. Have you been drinking at all?
Me: Just a little bit, its early. I have had brunch. I would say this to you without the drinks, because you are good.
Mama Fabulous: I don't want you missing out on more fun talking to me, why don't we chat more tomorrow.
Me: Look how good you are, I won't miss out on fun. I am fun. Love you!
Mama Fabulous: Love you too, please be safe.
I am a mess. Who drunk dials their mother? WHO? (That's a rhetorical question...jerk). I have a phone full of people who would love to talk to me and who might also be day drinking and can understand my logic. Jeez, I could also open Grindr...which may or may not have found it's way back on my phone. Uhh...errr.. I was mugged and someone grabbed my phone and then put Grindr on it and then made me keep it on there. It's not my fault. I. was. mugged. (I will go to any lengths to blame others for my actions....). Instead I called my mother.
Outside of that, the parade went off without a hitch and everything was fantabulous. We watched in the scorching heat as rainbow boa's, ass-less chaps, pink cars, drag queens, famous gays, politicians, and religious groups marched around Dupont Circle in support of the most amazing community of people. I purchased enough rainbow crap to last a life time and proceeded to lose a majority of it over the course of the day. I also did that thing where I become insanely generous and bought my group a bunch of rainbow stuff too, that they also lost throughout the day. Overall it was a bad day for money but a good day for Fabulously Lost.
In my head I made connections with a ton of the people marching. I felt myself "making eyes" and falling in love with several of the groups. I also got some stellar photos of my favorite groups:
.JPG)
Ummm...do I need to explain why they are my fav? I'd go all Brokeback Mountain with them....
.JPG)
I have no idea what they are...gay fruit? HAHA...fruit...HAHA..get it?
Everyone went batshit crazy when they walked by...need I explain why? Big Love, anyone? Anyone at all?
I also took about 42 "videos" that I thought were pictures...so I missed a lot of the cool floats due to my inability to use my fat fingers properly. As the parade finished so did my tolerance. I ended up passing out with my Twin until almost midnight. We missed several gay dance parties, made some queen's very frustrated, but ended up having a grand time staying up watching Footloose.
Ok, ok, so I know it wasn't as eventful and crazy as I thought it would be either. I got drunk, bought rainbow crap, called my mother, and slept. It was a lovely day but I think this weekend with Baltimore Pride might end up being a little bit crazier. Most people tend to think that DC is better than Baltimore for most things, and they may be right, but I know Baltimore like the back of my hand. I know the ins and outs of that little gay community and I suspect there to be some cray cray shiznat to go down. Hold on tight ladys and gents...this might be (hopefully is... *wink, nudge, nod*) a bumpy ride.
Fabulously Lost: Owner of more Rainbows than San Francisco
My Liver: A medical phenomenon
Mama Fabulous: A saint for dealing with me
Photography: Not a job option
stop. this is fantastic. you are fantastic. i <3 your blog.
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