Just another weekend.

Home sweet home.

Phew. Three days and 4958.5 miles.

I left Harrisonburg with little attention to the bittersweet closing to my first year of apartment-living because I was too busy trying to remember to empty the fridge out of spoil-worthy foods and not forget anything for home and pride. That said, we cleaned out Taco Bell's beef and tortilla supply as I recklessly abandoned by pescatarian inhibitions on the way out of town and took to an evening in Fredericksburg. Highlight: The men fresh out of their mason meeting in the bottom floor bar of the Kenmore Inn flaunting traditional colonial redingotes and tights with far-from-fake à catagon wigs.

My pride virginity was lost to a beautiful sunny day and the most idiosyncratic gathering I have ever seen in Washington, DC. Never before have I really felt tandem with the activists I so often preach about. It is one thing to know there must be people fighting for queer rights, but entirely another to encounter--in the flesh and screaming at the top of their lungs--more than the twelve or fifteen I'm used to at JMU. As corporation after corporation paraded past with queer employees and free throwouts, consolation flooded my heart; the blood leaving it shooting not just oxygen, but hope and change to my fingers and toes. Just in time I suppose, for dancing the night away in half-nude sexual freedom.

Rolling in at 5am to Fredericksburg, I woke at 10 to hit the pool for some quality time with Marjorie, fam, girlfrann, and enough sun to darken me four shades. Departing quickly for Washington-Dulles International Airport, I flew through security and over the U.S. to stop in L.A. for an evening of mini-pizzas, Pizookies (ice cream-covered giant cookies) and an old friend.

I finally knocked my terrible impression of Southern California the next day as Katrina and I went on a pleasant bike ride through the heart of L.A. and more tanning and swimming at Loyola Marymount University's pool.

Boarding a plane that afternoon to Kona, Hawaii, I considered running back through security for the phone charger I left, but thought better of it. Topped the three day trip off with a bottle of Merlot under the Hilo rain with all the people I have missed the most. Picture on the left taken at Hilo Farmer's Market.