Another Proud Day in Vancouver

Most of my Pride Day coverage, understandably, is over at Self-Loathario. Consider this your warning.

Because of where my party sat, I didn't get many pictures. Had I taken any, they would have all had that damn 7-11 logo in them. But the thought of striking out on my own and spending the entire Parade surrounded by strangers was not an acceptable situation. So instead I sat surrounded by friends and just watched. It felt very safe.

As usual, Pride Day amazes me, and I think it's the sheer variety of people on display that has always amazed me most. I'm glad for them, mostly, that they can be so open and proud of who and what they are. I just wish I could.

Another of the great things about Pride Day is how it functions as a celebration to enable people to triumph over past hurts. We've all been viciously oppressed, and to some extent still are. Yet not taking it personally is a skill I've never developed. Whereas the majority of the revellers seemed to not care that there are untold thousands of people in this very city today who would gladly murder the lot of us, it's just about all I can think of; every time a balloon pops I find myself wondering who planted the bomb and where. Maybe it's time to get out of security and start trusting people again.

Anger borne of frustration is more or less my default setting. Generally speaking, I defuse it with humour, or try to. My success or failure in this depends largely on your sense of humour. It doesn't bother me, though, if someone doesn't find me funny, since humour is subjective. So why does it bother me so much that when it comes to that other great subjective - looks - I'm such a loser.

I guess we all want what we can't have.
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