Today's the Pride parade, and as I did last year, I point you to an essay I wrote during my first year doing Lelo in Nopo. I read it every year, and it is always my truth.
For something a little more fresh, check out The Portland Mercury's collection of essays, printed in their current Pride issue, especially this one by Recovering Straight Girl, and even one by yours truly.
Happy Pride, y'all.
Happy Pride and you and RSG each did a wonderful job.
I feel like I should say something encouraging here, but I don't think that's what you were going for. So in lieu of that, let me just remind you that your dog still creeps me out a little. In a cute sort of way.
No photos of the parade?
Great reads, well said.
I don't have to contend with the Religious Wrong but I bristle at labels, too. Someone who didn't know me called me an SUV-driving, Martha Stewart wannabe, suburban soccer mom.
Not that there's anything wrong with that (channeling Seinfeld) but he meant it as an insult. It is so not me - far from it - that it's laughable. But he didn't get the joke.
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