Well then, Pride on

I don’t think I can live my life anymore without a Chicago Pride. Even if my future employer relocates me with a healthy relocation package to Antarctica, I’ll still save frequent flier mileage to return to the ORD every June. Maybe it is because I’m Midwest. It might have something to do with loving everyone and hugging trees and hoping for a better world. Or possibly it is just because I’m gay. But I go crazy when it comes time for Pride. Things just get nutty. And we all know I love nutty.



I finally got to meet Jill’s girlfriend, Shelly, too – which made it even more of an important weekend in Chicago. I still can’t give dismissal to all individuals that wear thongs at Hollywood Beach though. Hug a tree, Ryan, don’t discriminate.



Embarrassingly, I don’t claim responsibility for my actions at Pride. I’m sure you ran into me and thought that I was just drinking water all day. No, that was the lack of water you witnessed. Pictures probably sum up the day better than words. I did cap the day off by shoving a Chipotle in my mouth and then a walk home with some random boy from Andersonville that had his entire ass showing due to a severe rip in his overalls. Gross. We drunk kissed on the corner of Reva’s Mediterranean – in front of an entire family con ninos and babies, eating dinner. And staring. Classy, Ryan.