Phew, THAT’S over.
Pride weekend in Atlanta was fun and a good time was had by most. It was hot, sunny, and there was no raining on the parade this time. Rumor had it that close to 300K people showed up; here’s a madcap recap:
One sunburn
Three pairs of shorts sweat completely through
One chafed taint
Two blisters
One armband borrowed
One partial blowjob
Six makeout sessions with strangers
Two times going shirtless
20 beers (and three margaritas) consumed
Two pounds gained
Four separate visits of hands to my asscrack
Eight full-on gropes
One huge ego boost
One fight mediated
One wafflehouse meal (which I’m still paying for!)
One deflected advance from a VERY scary man
One new t-shirt purchased
I’m sure I’ll blog more about it as the week progresses, but I’m tired and melancholy. I do have a few choice pictures that I need to post when I finally get internet access with my home computer. Right now though, I’m in that post-Pride depression that always hits.
You know- when the bubble bursts and you have to come back to the reality of your very alone, very non-gay life with bills and a job you hate and stuff. Last night was rough because I had to be alone again when I really would have given just about anything NOT to be alone.
I still have that feeling today, even though I’m at work. That feeling of wanting to scream, or cry out in anguish because you’ve lost something- but its all so intangable that you don’t. You just swallow it and go on.
Know what I mean? Anyone else ever get this way?
Mangina Monologues 
Best wishes for the recovery of taint. 😉
I get like that a lot. Hugs.
And healing kisses to your tenderest of places.
I’ve felt like that. It’s no fun to feel alone, especially when someone’s in the bed next to you.
But I digress …
What? No MiniJake sightings at Atlanta Pride?
Loneliness is tough. We’re all with you as experience it. It sounds like a great pride though, it’s nice to know that there is the possibility of a life without as much loneliness. Maybe the midwest thing will come through? Ironically of course, as someone who lives a very gay life, loneliness is always a part of it. But you can sure be less lonely!
The feelings you describe are exactly what I experienced back in ’85 after attending our first parade in SF. I returned to Ari-fucking-zona melancholy and depressed. SF was vivid color, while AZ was black-and-white.
Six months later through a series of not-so-accidental circumstances, I’d relocated to Baghdad by the Bay, where I remained for the next 16 years…
I’m glad you had a great Pride, CB. Don’t worry, I’m sure the sense of ennui will fade. Try to have a good week. 😉
Sorry about the chaffed taint. Happy to hear you were groped, molested and otherwise appreciated. Lucky boys. And I know what you mean about the “day after” letdown. I’ve had that after any number of occasions where life is grand and then you have to go back to reality. We’ll all be thinking about you and sending soothing thoughts out for you tender bits.
That was suppose to be “your tender bits”.