This weekend was LA Pride here in West Hollywood, and I pretty much missed all of it. A combination of no sleep, not having anyone to go with (for the second year in a row), and introversion led to me procrastinating and taking a nap, which ended up lasting much longer than planned, which led to me rushing down to Santa Monica Boulevard at the last minute, only to find that the parade was long gone. I walked for a couple of miles until I found the very last float, but got no further because of the crowds. Lesson learned: plan ahead. Or get more sleep the night before. Or both.
Still, it was sunny and bright, there were rainbows and balloons and crazy outfits everywhere, and I was surrounded by happy people, so the day wasn't a total loss. I got a lot of good chuckles out of the crazy conversations going on around me, and my shoulders only got mildly sunburned. I adore outdoor festivals and closed streets where pedestrians rule the asphalt; add in swaths of incredibly attractive gay men, most of them with their shirts off, and you've got one satisfied Rachel. I love West Hollywood.
Happy LA Pride!