Gay Pride Parade

French Word of the Day: l’homosexualité (lome-oh sex-ewe-al-it-eh)- homosexuality

I had never been to a Gay Pride Parade, and I figured it was about time after 25 years.  If you don’t love color, you should probably skip this post. My friends and I each took a different color of the rainbow:

Rocio took this picture, but she was a lovely shade of pink.  (Clothing wise, not skin wise.)
Rocio took this picture, but she was a lovely shade of pink. (Clothing-wise, not skin-wise.)

 

The Pride Parade is easily one of the happiest parades I’ve ever been to.  Everyone was laughing, dancing and screaming- it was like Disney World with less expensive merchandise.

I’ve never seen so many things handed out in a single parade.  By the end, we had no less than 25 of each object: temporary tattoos, bracelets, flyers, pins, frisbees, flags… Whoever has to clean up the streets is having fun right now.

I took quite a few pictures.  Unfortunately, I’m short, so half the pictures are full of the hands, arms and heads of everyone in front of me. Okay, now full speedo ahead!

Territorial Rainbow

Rainbow FlagsRainbow Boys

Elphba and Glinda!
Elphba and Glinda!

 

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San Francisco

French Word of the Day: bavard (bah-vard)- talkative

As I go through the treatments, they become less and less invasive in my life.  I’ve become more aware of my trigger foods, so I haven’t been getting as sick.  I slept more than usual after my last treatment.  I got 10 hours of sleep one night- something I hadn’t done since college.  (College was my nap Renaissance.)

Work needed me to fly to a conference in San Francisco on Wednesday.  My doctor had cleared me for air travel.  Her only comment was: “If there’s someone next to you who’s sick, you need to move.”  I didn’t point out that a plane is an enclosed space with recycled air circulating around.

Germ Plane

My seatmate wasn’t sick, but she talked so much that I think I would have preferred a sick person.  She sat next to me and said, “I don’t like to read or watch movies on planes,” which is exactly what every traveler wants to hear.  She did, however, like to complain about how long the plane was taking and inquired every five seconds what time it was.  I pretended to be asleep, but she just reached around me and started flirting with the guy next to me.

Luckily, I only had to sit next to her for 4 and a half hours.

The conference itself went very well.  I got to go out for an hour or two at the end of the day to walk around.  I went to Pier One (not the store) and got a fabulous seafood dinner.  There is no photographic evidence of my meal because I didn’t take pictures of it.  I’ve begun eating my meals instead of just taking pictures of them and placing them on Instagram. (Just like you’re not friends in real life until you’re friends on Facebook, you haven’t had a meal unless it’s been placed on Instagram.) I’m still in the test phase of this new food policy.  I don’t know how I feel about it.

I did take some pictures of the pier with my ever-dependable phone.

The sunset ruins what would have been a fantastic view of the light-up sign.  (That silly sunset, always ruining pictures.)
The sunset ruins what would have been a fantastic view of the light-up sign. (That silly sunset, always ruining pictures.)
This is NOT the Golden Gate bridge.  It's the less popular sister, the Bay Bridge.
This is NOT the Golden Gate bridge. It’s the less popular sister, the Bay Bridge.
Fun fact: The trolley cars go until midnight. Other fun fact: I was asleep well before that time.
Fun fact: The trolley cars go until midnight.
Other fun fact: I was asleep well before that time.

My seatmate on the flight home didn’t speak to me at all, so it was a much better experience.

The conference went really well, so I might get the chance to see more of San Francisco next year!  I was a bit worried the treatments would put everything at a complete standstill for 6 months, but that has proven to be false.  (In a good way.)

Fall

French Word of the Day: l’automne (aw tum)- autumn

Fall ends tomorrow, and with it, my opportunities to post the 5 thousand pictures I’ve taken on my phone.  (A season is only good to me if it’s photogenic.)

In case you all thought I was languishing at home like some 19th century writer, depressed about being ill and frail (5000% of 19th century writers had tuberculosis), here’s some proof that I’ve been going out and enjoying myself rather than writing depressing sonnets in iambic pentameter.

I hope you’re all ready for some orange.

I’ve never tried the gallery thing before, but the Mayan Apocalypse is tomorrow, so I thought I’d try something new before oblivion sets in.

It’s snowing.  Bring it on, winter*!

*Dear Winter, I’m kidding.  Please don’t.