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I stepped outside to grab a bus, and the first thing I noticed was that the trees were fat with leaves. Green was everywhere, and it was sunny, slightly cloudy. I didn't wait too long for a bus to come and pick me up. From my pick-up to my arrival downtown, I was watching for people getting on the bus to see who looked like they were going to the Pride parade today. They all looked like they were going to or coming from work. I don't think most of the other passengers had a clue about pride day, plus it was Sunday, and only two thirds of the Winnipeg population was at home or at church. I was carrying my photos and resumes for a cattle call for "Shall We Dance?", which was at 3pm, so I figured I had lots of time. After my half hour bus ride and dashing into Portage Place to pee like a racehorse, I headed to the Legislature building and saw a crowd of people milling about the grounds area. I really wished I had someone with me, or a gang of other lesbians, or something; it was so alienating to go stag, but I wasn't totally ignored. I'm also glad that at least I saw maybe 3 black gays there, although one cannot assume who's who these days, eh? I made eye contact with another black girl who had dreds like mine, caught a glimpse of a brother cavorting with his friends, and this other brother, weaving in and out of the crowd who came up to me and chit-chatted with me a bit, opening up about his life history, as if I really needed to know, but he wanted to bond with me, since he was adopted by a white couple; other black folk always look for reasons to bond with each other. I should've found one to approach that girl who smiled at me a couple of times. During the parade, a guy was flirting with me, but he was classy about it, asking if I was dressed up for a reason, if I was expecting anyone to join me and if I was into girls. When I said yes, he said that was sexy, but he looked away when he said it too. Hmmm. Apparently, anyone can walk in the parade, which I was intimidated about, since my new friend wanted me to march with him. Now I realize it wasn't as big a deal as I thought, thinking that my dad will swing by in his cab and spot me, stewing in his anger until I got home so he could unleash it all over me. Made me think: was I being shamefull or humble? Both are the opposite of pride, eh? I made my way to the Winnipeg Convention Centre, thinking I was way too early; it was only 1:29pm when I walked there, and the cattle call wasn't until 3pm: a fricken huge line-up! I step in and I'm the 100th person, probably 109th in line or something. An hour and a half later, the line starts inching closer to the room, yet it's around the corner so I can't see it, and this woman with a clipboard of sign in sheets spots me. "Hey, I know you! You don't need to wait!", so she takes me out of the line, wraps her arm around my waist muttering, "You silly silly girl", and I get in ahead of everyone, like I'm Beyonce Knowles escorted into the hottest night club. Badda-boom, badda-bing, I'm in there, signing a sheet, handing it to the main casting lady, and she says, "Can I keep your headshot and resume to hand out to others in the industry?" Fuck yeah, but what I really said was, "Sure!" I met up with my new friend afterwards, doing more chit-chatting, and he reveals that he's HIV positive. I don't blink an eye, but he seems rather erratic. He also keeps asking me if I use to be a man. I've had this five 0'clock shadow around my mouth ever since I was about 3 which is why he asked, and he seemed to have a short memory everytime he kept asking that same question. I eye-balled some hot dykes as we roamed the grounds, introducing me to some friends of his as "a sister who use to be a mister", meet Electra Storm the drag queen who was beautiful, and we went our separate ways after exchangeing phone numbers and a hug. I came home and felt in need of a nap, only it was suppertime, and that's when everyone is more relaxed and mellow. I only mentioned the cattle call, but only my mom knew I was going to the parade. My mind would wander elsewhere as I thought about my day, but I got to say grace. I feel like a bigger fraud, being an atheist, but my grace was more original than the usual family ones. Mmmm, my favorite Jamaican food is ackee, the yellow fruit with the big black seed exposed in the middle, and it's usually made with salt fish, but mom made mine vegan: I love my mommy. All fried up, it looks like scrambled eggs, and it's great with rice and spinach. Her sweet potatos were delicious! I might tape tonight's episode of, "The Chris Isaak Show", since earlier I caught the one I did background for, and I urged my family to see it. My fleeting moments: coming out of Isaakland and watching him perform under a tent. I auditioned for the role of the reporter too, but I obviously didn't get it. Must......sleep....very....tired. While Soaking in Lavendar... - Saturday, Apr. 06, 2019 He Reminded Me of An Incident Years Ago - Monday, Feb. 04, 2019 My Rose-Coloured Glasses are Smashed & I Don’t Want Them Anymore - Sunday, Feb. 03, 2019 It’s Been Awhile - Saturday, Feb. 02, 2019 I Never Needed You. - Thursday, Nov. 27, 2014
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