You give me the electric twist and it kicks like a pony...

This weekend is NYC Pride. Pretty exciting-eh? In light of the many many drunken women I will meet, the many many drunken exes I will surely encounter (Curly included) and the many many drunken friends I will take care of, I have decided to make a short list of the most important survival skills for Pride:

1) In case you spot your ex, make sure you are surrounded by your most beautiful friends. If your ex was your most beautiful friend, surround yourself with ugly people so you can look the hottest possible.
2) When a friend decides to make out with you and you don't want to, quickly shout "Tequila shots!" Tequila and lesbians go hand in hand.
3) When a friend decides to make with you and want to, don't even think about this post, just do it.
4) While at the Pride parade, do not, even though it seems cute and funny to joke about, take free condoms from people passing them out. It's awkward and confusing for those of us lesbians that don't know what condoms are.
5) And most importantly, do not try and crash a gay male party. Stick to the lesbians- because isn't the entire point of pride to "bond" with other women...a.k.a. get as many phone numbers and meet as many hot strangers as possible?

Until the drama continues...

I'm coming out, I want the world to know...

Or maybe not.

This weekend was Brooklyn Pride. Went out with friends and the whole evening started innocently enough. I was excited because I was to be hanging out with a good friend, Gay Goddess, who incidentally is the reason I know I am gay. Nothing has ever happened with her, but after the large amounts of alcohol ingested by me, SuperGay, Ginger, and PopStar, I was fearless...

and blacked out.

I awoke the next morning to find my phone littered with messages mysteriously sent by me. Most too incoherent to understand, but about fifteen texts were sent to Gay Goddess. All said "Come to my house" or some variation of "You're beautiful. I love you." Most of the texts were spelled very creatively and several had extra punctuation or no punctuation or spaces at all.

Granted, this is not the first time I have drunkenly professed my love for someone, yet for some reason, my secret crush I have been harboring for four years is all of the sudden known. It takes away the mystery and allure of Gay Goddess...all of the sudden, she knows.

I guess my question is this: We all do stupid things when drunk, but should we ever regret them? As long as they don't hurt anyone, is there really a reason to stress out about it?

Just breathe...remember to breathe. Gay Goddess apparently found the texts incoherently flattering...

Until the drama continues...