Thank you, gay men

There's a frustrating reality for this single, straight woman: gay men.

This weekend is Pride in Vancouver, a celebration of all things GLBTQ2 and fabulous! Finely sculpted men are running around Vancouver without shirts and it's a total tease. Straight men don't look like that, and if they do, they don't talk to me.

In fact, the most frustrating thing about gay men is that they are the only people with penises who tell me I'm pretty, funny and have nice hair.

Breeder men never tell me that shit, and if they do, they're drunk.

So this is my thanks to boys who like boys - thanks for the compliments and calling me the next day. Can you teach those straight fellows a thing or two? Please?

Seriously?

Has it really been a year? A YEAR since I moved out to Vancouver!

Yes, it has. It seems like yesterday I was driving out here with P3 and here I am a year later and none the wiser.

No that isn't true. I have learned a lot this past year. Learned to stand on my own two feet, with no one around but my thoughts and fears and all that ick stuff.

While I still think Vancouver is bullshit, I am starting to form a bit of a life out here. It is nice and it is weird, all at the same time. This isn't my home, but it is where I live.

My life here, while fulfilling, is fairly uneventful. I cannot compare it to New York, because, well, that was a fantasy life, full of fun and excitement and new adventures and boys. But here, I am doing things I have never done, falling in love with things that I never expected and finding out how to be me in this wretched city.

It's starting to rain again. Here we go again. Let the suicide attempts start.