Thursday, June 5, 2008


On Monday, I will be turning 25. This is not all that exciting; I can rent cars cheaply now, but I still can't afford gas. As of this morning, the "cheap" gas station in my neighborhood was at $4.35 a gallon.

This gayborhood called West Hollywood puzzles me sometimes. Pride will be happening here this weekend, and I have heard from several sources that it's not great here. According to the She God of Shark Reef, there isn't a sense of community, so Pride tends to be spread out and disjointed and not feel like family. Long Beach Pride, she says, is better than LA Pride.

WTF? I live in probably the biggest gayborhood there is; Pride happens literally yards from my front door; even the straight bars are covered in rainbows to get ready. Why don't we have the best fucking Pride in the world? Because this is LA--no central core, everything streeeeetched out to ridiculous dimensions, and people complaining that nobody really connects. Of course. I blame Frederic Jameson.

I have a counterexample. Last night, The Mysterious X, the She God, Z2, a cute boy I don't really know (who lives in Minnesota and is moving to Germany, so sigh), and I went drinking at my very favorite bar to celebrate the She God becoming Dr. She God of Shark Reef. I had already decided to have my birthday celebration there, and I figured I should clear it with the bartender first. I went to talk to her, chatted about her drastic but ├╝berhot haircut for a bit, then told her the deal. She told me that, sadly, they were planning to be closed on Monday to clean up after Pride. And then, guess what happened. She called some people and got them to agree to open the bar JUST FOR MY PARTY!

How sweet is that? I'm a "regular" at a neighborhood bar. The bartenders (or one of them at least) are (is) willing to work on a day off so I can have a birthday party. Plus, I finally met the one male bartender, and he's really cute. This bar gets better every day. As long as there are places like The Normandie Room, Laurel Pet Hospital, and the Fairfax High School Flea Market, I will not believe the people who complain about lack of community in LA. It's there; get off your ass and find it.

Unless you live in Westwood. Then you're just screwed.

1 comment:

Aaron said...

Westwood? Ugh.