i didnt enjoy Pride as much as i had wanted to. a large part of why i wanted to go this year was to meet up with a guy i had started seeing very recently. we planned to meet up that night, and i havent liked a guy this much since forever, so I spent at least two hours at home trying to come up with the perfect look that says im not a slut, but im not a virgin either. because really, i just want him to put a ring on it, you know? i ended up just wearing a regular t-shirt.

my wingman and I got to the city at around 10 PM, and after making our way through a very rowdy and disinhibited crowd, i was disappointed to find that my date was not responding to any of my calls or texts. in fact, i did not hear from him until the morning. it turns out that he and his friends got “kinda” drunk at home, and decided to stay in. without even apologizing, he told me he’ll just see me next week.

i hate dating. why dont we have arranged marriages anymore?

anyway, my friends and I lined up outside badlands for at least two hours because people kept on cutting in the line. because i decided not to wear a light jacket in hopes that my date would appreciate that i’ve been killing my biceps in the last week…needless to say, i was freezing for two hours. while standing in line, a cute white boy started talking to me by asking me where i got my jeans. at this point, however, i was too upset about my date not responding that i myself could not be a functional conversationalist. i bet he must have thought i was a snobby asian bitch who couldnt speak english. later that night, i saw him making out with another brown boy. damn.

we got inside badlands at 12:30, got our drinks on and went to the dance floor. my wingman, however, developed his own wings and decided to fly with another boy. so there i was, standing inside the hot club, dateless, wingmanless, next to two really old guys who gave me creepy looks the entire night. i felt naked. another guy from school spotted me and we ended up dancing instead. well, that was until his TA began missing and so the fun had to end because he had to go look for her. then, just really creepy people started dancing with me, and that prompted me to leave.

mostly, i think it’s not the night or pride that im upset with, but just dating in general. how many times do i have to rinse, lather, repeat…put my best foot forward in the tiny hope that i’ll convince someone that i am something. people keep telling me that i need to enjoy this moment and to just go with the flow…enjoy mr. right now, and worry about mr. right later on. but honestly, how many dicks does a gay boy have to suck to find the right one that fits?