Just a quick note before I pop out my contacts and go to bed.
I slipped out of the social at a quarter to one, after the door prizes had been awarded and the pizza had been devoured. Ears slightly ringing and throat slightly hoarse (from the loud music and having to shout over it). Tonight was the annual fund-raising social for Swerve, the local queer newspaper. Retro 1970s and 1980s theme. A brief episode from the evening:
My friend Jay sits down next to me as I'm taking a break from dancing to pre-corporate Madonna. I'm trying to explain how, when it comes to the signals sent between two people that eventually end up as a couple (for the night, or for a lifetime, or somewhere in-between), I seem to be both tone-deaf and colour-blind. And invisible to boot. And Jay , in an attempt to make me feel less like the clueless queergeek I am, says:
"You look so sweet and unbitter."
And I laugh, my great big hearty Ryan-laugh. Give Jay a kiss on the forehead. And head back off to the dancefloor to dance in the big circle with my friends from the gay chorus.
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