I pushed the envelope and the envelope pushed back
AIDS Walk New York is over. I survived, more or less. Seriously, it was more difficult than I thought. Nothing really went as planned. I was feeling a might peckish on Saturday and decided to bag the gym. I believe that was the time I used to do my last post and figure out how to use the archive. (I did and have archived the first few entries In case anyone joins late and wants to refer....It could happen!) So my plan to be all buff and gorgeous was out the window. As was my plan to refresh my hair color. If you must know, it's Feria #51 Brazilian Brown. I figure if I can't have a brown Brazilian squatting on my face I can at least put some on my head. Honestly, I don't do it to cover much gray. I'm just getting it at the temple and hairline in back. My natural haircolor is sort of this flat, mousey brown. I like to color it every few weeks to give it some oomph. It's more or less my color.....plus. I was however determined to shave. I may as well get this out of the way. I shave. Not my entire body but a lot. It started many years ago when I was dating that asshole, Bill. Surprise, there's a man involved. He talked me into shaving my legs one summer on Fire Island and after that I was hooked. I love the way it feels and I love a guy with a shapely shaved tanned leg. Not overly muscular just.....nice. You know? Maybe not. I can forgive a lot of transgressions for a nice pair of legs and a cute butt. I shave my chest at least twice a week. It used to be an asthetic thing or sometimes for effect but now it's pure vanity. The hair in the middle of my chest is going gray. And I'm not ready. It's not real obvious normally but get me in bright sunlight and Ka-pow! There it is. I can't bear it. I know that eventually I will need to make peace with this issue but today ain't that day. Not as long as I have Magic Shave. Not being shy about shaving, plucking or clipping means adjusting my eyebrows down to shaving the back of my hands. I hate real hairy hands. I can't stand when guys let their knuckle hair get all long and wiry. It's gross! It's just my opinion, but I don't believe you are supposed to let your body hair just run wild. It's grooming. Just like a haircut. But I digress. So midnight rolls around and I'm just getting in the shower when by all rights I should be curling up into bed. My wake up time for a 9am appearance in the park is around 6:30. (drunk or sober it takes me an hour and a half to get my shit together when I wake up. I can do it in an hour cutting corners if I just have to make a meeting or go shopping or something.) But when you go to bed every night between 3am and 6am it's not so simple to just get in bed at midnight. If I'm home I usually putter around between 1 and 2am getting the coffee ready for the morning, laying my money out for the next day, getting my bank card and gym ID out. I check my Palm for the next day before I go to bed because it helps me remember things. I'm quite certain I'm organizing my day while I sleep.This night was no exception. I had to pick out a cute outfit. Truth to tell I had that days ago. I just wasn't sure if the weather was going to cooperate with my clothing plans. Or lack thereof. The aforementioned coffee. I had to pack my digital camera and my disposable plus I packed my video camera as well. I will soon need an assistant to handle my recording needs.when all was said and done I was just settling in to sleep around 2:30 which meant if I fell asleep immediately (HA!) I would get four hrs. I got almost three.
Sleep deprived and scantilly dressed for the chilly weather I arrived at work to meet the kids around 9am.I didn't say anything but I was feeling kind of lightheaded all morning. She's stoic like that. We got our pledge sheets organized and walked over to Central Park. We were already several marchers short but we had all the donations so no big whoop. After much cornfusion about how to register (massive shout out to the registration staff, they couldn't have been nicer or more accommodating) they pointed us in the direction of the awards tent (I got a Tshirt, baseball cap and belt watch. I LOVE doing charitable works when free swag is involved) and the starting point. Along the way we loaded up on free yogurt, bottled water and pitted prunes (I don't know) After a delay to allow one of our drunk, coke addled members to join us from a bar (Note to sister: You stank, girl! But you smelled better later) Off we went. And we walked.And walked. And walked. Damn! And I'm in pretty good shape. This was no AIDS Walk. This was the fuckin fag march to Bataan. And you have to really pay attention to your bathroom visits. You can get caught in between port-o-potties for over an hour. And trust me it's really hard to sneak away from a million marchers and pee. You're way too conspicuous to pull that off. We finally finished around 3pm I guess. I don't think I spoke at all the last half hour I was just beat. There was a concert afterward in the bandshell but me and The Girls wuz done for. They got as little or less sleep then I did. So I offered to (let the bar) pick up the tab if they wanted to do a little KFC/pizza fest back at our place. An enthusiatic yes and we were off. We scarfed down chicken and pizza and mac and cheese and mashed potatos in about 20 minutes of frenzied feeding. And then, they all fell out. Girl, let me tell you it looked like they had been in a fight.....and lost. I on the other hand had a double shift to work. How I was going to accomplish this was anyone's guess. I figured if I kept busy and kept moving I would make it. I was almost right. The first few hours were OK. I managed to get the place open all right if not a tad later than normal. I had some paper work to catch up on and the weekly payroll to do. Around 8:00 I developed a fever. It was all downhill from there to chills and a higher fever and then a cough. In a few hours I could feel the heat of my eyelids every time I closed my eyes. Of course, I tried not to close my eyes because then I would start to fall asleep. I basically took a tack of wandering back and forth between the front door and the back bar and then the front bar. Then I would go into the office and cough till I thought a lung would pop and then pray to the gods to give me the strength to not die and then start over. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. It worked more or less. I ended up closing up shop at 2am instead of 3 but really, with six people in the place I didn't feel that guilty. Besides, we raised over $2800 for GMHC and I was a battle weary warrior.
OK I promised you some pictures so here's a few I worked on today. Comments as needed:
RicoandReuven.jpg
JuanandHun.jpg
Mark.jpg
lunch!.jpg
My Girls.jpg
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