Oh man. What a day.

It started with me showing up at the meeting place for a barbecue field trip at around ten thirty. There were very few people. Alex, who had said he would show, was not around. Camille and I went up and tried to wake him but he simply proclaimed "I AM DEAD" and promptly went back to sleep.

The field trip sort of sucked. We went all the way to Dolores Park in San Francisco for a barbecue that didn't really exist. While we were walking from the BART station to the park, one of the R.A.s got a phone call. "There aren't any grills? Well shit. I told you." When we arrived, we relocated and ate lots of popsicles and drank soda while waiting for the early bird R.A.s to come back with a mini-grill. After at least an hour of doing absolutely nothing, a few of us decided that it'd be better off if we just went back to campus.

Between the BART station and campus, we stopped into some thrift stores and Asian shops and ran into Patricia and Alex who were on their way to the Crepevine. Faye and Camille, the two girls who had stuck around, were too exhausted to stay out any longer, so I was passed off to the hungry bunch and went to a delightful branch of the delicious Californian crepe franchise. I had a cherry mascarpone crepe, Patricia had a strawberry crepe and Alex had a chicken curry crepe. Delicious stuff.

By the time we got back, everyone was gross and sweaty. There has been a heat wave in the Bay Area, which is really not bad compared to summers in places like Tokyo, but we've been here for a few weeks and adjusted to the cool temperatures. I checked my mail, found a lovely card from my Utonian family, got very excited and showed it off. We then spent some time doing nothing in particular (exchanging files [Monkey Island, 1, 2 and 3!!], watching movie trailers, listening to music, taking showers, watching Coming To America on Comedy Central, getting kicked off the TV, etc.) and when the evening came a knockin', so did Patricia. She had baked me a cake and put my name on it in M&Ms. We threw a party in the hallway since the lounge was closed for decoration and ate cake, drank chocolate milk and destroyed eardrums/garnered attention with a very loud rendition of the birthday song. Alex and Alexia (who was not actually present) presented me with an awesome strobe yo-yo. It is so cool. The cake was so good. I have badass buddies on the first floor. They made me feel very loved.

Seeing as the drag ball was quickly approaching, we all went back to our rooms to prepare. I put on my pin striped shirt and pants and topped it off with a tie I had bought in an Oakland Goodwill the day before. After that, it was a party in Camille and Sholeh's room. I used her eyeliner to draw myself some facial hair and slicked back my hair with some of her gel while a couple of men dressed as ladies came in for makeup. Eventually, it was time and we all waited outside of the lounge for the doors to swing open and welcome us in.

The situation at first was even more awkward than at any normal dance-centric function. I had put myself into character to make the entire thing a little bit easier. It turned out that, under the influence of Mickey Rourke over the last week or so, I ended up calling [the guys dressed as] girls "broads" and "dames" and used my Italian male facade to be a complete and total ass-face. It was a lot of fun. Patricia had beautiful sideburns and a handlebar mustache and she became my sleazy counterpart, Pat. I then called myself Rick. Clever? No. But who gives a damn. The dancing was very intense and I can only imagine that I pulled a number of muscles or tendons. Very sweaty but good and fun.

To stray from story telling, I have a bit of a thought process to share. From said experience, I have further confused certain... self-evident truths regarding my stance on gender identity. Since sixth grade, I've had various girls show interest in going out with me, only one of whom didn't realize that I was female. Throughout the evening, I heard, both first and second hand, that there were girls who found me attractive as my bizarrito male parallel. Why is it that I have no problem attracting females when I'm not in the least bit interested? I'd probably be much better off as a lesbian but who am I to decide what I find attractive? Damn coming of age. Give me a clean picture of my future, for Christ's sake!!

Sorry.

Back to the Drag Ball. Although I did not receive the title of Drag King, I was given another SUPER DUPER rendition of the birthday song and a kiss on the cheek from the Drag Queen.

Good day. Tomorrow, I will be utterly bogged down with homework. I'm not sure how happy I am with the actual graphic design class of this summer program, so I hope to talk to one of the graphic designer R.A.s about the real program. My teachers do not impress me all that much and neither do our projects. I feel horrible saying that, but at least my experience as a whole has been outstanding and awesome. Or outstandingly awesome. Whichever you prefer.

Right! Pictures.



Here is a link to the slideshow for much more discernible photos. Enjoy! Tell Neal that the cake was delicious. It was so good that we ate most of it before I could get a picture and finish it off.