Pride Recap (and Episode 3)

Hi lovelies,
Well, pride has come and gone.  Elle and I had a very long, VERY hot, but ultimately great day at NYC Pride on Sunday, and I'm glad that I dragged myself out and celebrated. We of course missed seeing the OITNB float (endlessly crying over that) but we had a great brunch (so important), walked about 1000 miles trying to get around the parade (which I dubbed "the monster"), were delighted at the diversity and joy of the day, met up with some old friends and made some new ones, so all in all, a great, gay success.

We also recorded the next episode of the podcast over Pride weekend, and you can listen to that below if you're so inclined (show notes are below the player!). The episode is called "Clem"--10 'cool nerd' points to anyone who gets the reference before they listen! Put your guesses in the comments, I know I have some nerdy queer ladies lurking who know what's up :)

xx

In this episode of the New Lesbian podcast, we discuss our pride plans, our endless love for Tegan and Sara, and talk about some new-to-you reader/listener questions. Edie shares her experience with dental dams, and then it’s Who Would You Do: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Edition! Share your thoughts with us at newlesbianpodcast.wordpress.com

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Links:

Tegan and Sara-So Jealous

World Pride, Toronto

Edie’s First Pride

Dyke March NYC

It Happened to Me-I Didn’t Know I Was A Lesbian (XoJane)

Great Article on Sexual Fluidity from NPR

Send us your questions on ask.fm!

Stitcher Radio app

New Lesbian blog

Social Medias:

Follow New Lesbian on Tumblr

Follow Elle @new_elle

Follow @edie_wyatt

Breakdown

It's 1 am on Saturday night. I'm alone in my apartment. And I just had a bit of an emotional breakdown. Just for a few minutes. But it happened. And I think I needed it.

There's a lot going on right now.  Most pressing is that in the next 14 days I have to either let my current landlord know I'll be leaving here for at least another year, or that I'm peace-ing out by October 31. Most stressful is that I have the biggest paper of my life due in less than 3 months.  Most sad is that as I write this my mother is in Connecticut, sitting at the bedside of her older sister, who is dying.

I went and looked at an apartment today, seeing what my options are in my quest to move out of my current neighborhood, which is....loud. Too loud for me, at least.  I unexpectedly have a chance to move, which I thought I wouldn't have until at least a year from now, and so I set out to see if maybe I actually can.  The apartment that I saw today was...okay.  I think it's maybe a little bigger than my current place. Maybe. But it's definitely not as nice.  It would be quieter (probably) than my current place. But it's not as nice of an apartment.  This didn't really hit me until I was back here and realized---I have a NICE apartment. It's small, and this building is kind of dirty, and I really do hate this street, but.... My actual apartment? These 4 walls and huge bathroom that I get to call my own? Really. Fucking. Nice.  This was never so clear to me as it was after seeing that other apartment today.

Huh.

So I'm sitting here, dazedly realizing that I probably am going to stay here for another year, as much as I bemoan my neighbors, and this street, and this neighborhood, and even though I just sold my car today so that I would have the money to move (also so that I would no longer have the headache of paying to have a car in New York)...and I start wandering around my little space, thinking about the things that I can do that I've been putting off, that I should really just DO if I'm gonna be here awhile. I looked at empty shelf space that could be filled with clutter-turned-thing-in-its-proper-place, and absent-mindedly went through one such pile.  I found a photo envelope with pictures in it that I'd forgotten I'd had printed before I moved in.  Pictures of my parents and my brother.  I had never taken them out of the envelope, had let them get buried in a pile of office supplies.  I looked at each of them for a long time, and felt...suddenly, and strongly, and all at once, sad, lost, alone, regretful.

I realized that I miss them. That I would like to see them, as much as I often feel that I don’t, really.  I marveled at how happy my parents look in that picture from their trip to New York a few years ago. How much my brother and I look alike--how that is still true, despite the years and years of pain and misunderstanding between us.  I cried for how far away from them I feel, how far away from them I am, how that’s exactly what I intended, and how it turns out it actually hurts a bit, to get what you want.  I felt a deep and sharp loss that startled me, and made me think of my mother, spending the weekend with her older sister, her sister who is slowly, yet quickly, dying of cancer.  How this is the…fifth (?) loss like this that she has endured. And how I can only guess at the pain she is in, and how I might never really know what she is going through, and how sad I am for her.  And I cried for my mother, and the fact that it took this long for me to realize how sad I am for her, losing another person she loves.  And I cried that she won’t let me in to her real life, her emotional life...and how I learned from her.

And then my tears were about all of my own fears and doubts and worries, that I apparently don’t let myself really feel as often as I think I do. Because it all came slamming through tonight.  And it hurts.  Life hurts.

I imagine you know what I mean.

June 2011--Baby's first Pride

NYC Pride.

I personally think of Pride as an opportunity for all queer people, regardless of how they identify, to take to the streets of NYC, or whatever city they're in, and declare their pride at being whoever they fucking are, regardless of who they prefer to fuck. It's a beautiful thing. It was a beautiful weekend.

I was fortunate enough, at the end of June 2011, to participate in my first Pride, just as I began to fully come into my own as a queer person, and just as NY State passed marriage equality for all people, regardless of sexual orientation, on June 24, 2011.  It was an exciting, thrilling time.

I celebrated at and around The Stonewall Inn on the night of June 24, feeling overjoyed that the state that I newly called home had finally done the right thing.  I saw so many beautiful, shining, happy faces that night on the streets of New York City, and it was surprisingly very affirming for me (though I didn't know I was missing, and needing, the affirmation) to know that, in this new chapter of my life that I was just beginning, I would still have the option to marry another person--a woman--if I choose to, sometime down the line.

That night is one of my favorite memories, and probably always will be.

I was also lucky enough to have found, by the time Pride rolled around, some amazing queer friends to experience the weekend with.  I participated in the Dyke March, I (almost) made it to the Pride March (there was too much margarita drinking to be done that day), and experienced the Stiletto Pride Party as a VIP pass holder.

I cannot overstate what a good decision it is, my lovelies, to purchase a VIP pass to the Stiletto Pride Party.

Purchase a VIP pass to the Stiletto Pride Party.

That party was off. the. fucking. hook.

Now, Maggie C's Stiletto party in general really deserves a post of its own, but for now I'll just say that the most gorgeous lesbians you will see in NYC are usually at Stiletto, even on a slow night, so just imagine, if you will, the kinds of women that were found in the VIP room of the Stiletto Pride Party.

Omg. O.M.G.

It was amazing. It was perfect. It was an open bar.

Of course, seeing as this party was THE place to BE SEEN, 10.0 was there, along with her cadre of beautiful power lesbians.  Meh. This part was not so fun.

But once she left? Good times.

Near the end of Stiletto Pride, I met one of the sexiest women I have ever met.  We'll call her "Hot Cop" because, well...she's super hot. And she's a cop. (My creative juices are really flowing today. Be jealous.)

We actually started talking because I was trying to find someone for my friend, but then I realized that, well, she was amazingly hot and I wanted a piece of that, please and thank you. Besides, my friend wasn't interested so.....

Cut to: HC and I dancing and making out furiously for at least an hour. I get her number, tell her I will be calling her, and she leaves because she has to go do her super bad-ass cop job the next morning. I left that party with swollen lips and in complete awe.

It was a great first Pride.