"We're not all into pastels and showtunes..."

That's the line a friend from elementary school wrote me when he came out...in a letter...in 11th grade.

Wow.

Flashfoward about 12 years.

I'm sitting in a bar in the Big City. Tons of gays, sprinkle in a two lesbians, a handfull of fag hags, mix in a little Liza, Judy, Bette, and Julie...and viola...it's SHOWTUNES TUESDAY!!!

Tuesday evening, I went up to the BC to help celebrate Thom's birthday (we dated last fall). I had a blast, saw a ton of people I knew, and kicked back a few vanilla vodka and cokes.

However, I felt like I needed to turn in my gay card. Wicked...Dream Girls...Mommy Dearest...Les Mis...out of the loop! I could barely sing along to 16 going on 17 from Sound of Music. With a crowd of drunken gay men belting out showtunes...classics and more recent movies...I was lost in a sea of singing sissies. No, I take that back...when you have big burly, muscle bound men singing along...it's priceless.

Then I got to thinking...every Tuesday, a crowd of men get together for this. Wow! It was fun for a night...but not like all the time. Really to me, it's the same with any other bar/club/etc. I prefer a simple, quiet life...with some occasional wild and crazy fun mixed in. At least that's my justification. I've said it before, and Sheryl Crow sang about it..."If it makes you happy..."

Alrighty...I promise to be more diligent about blogging.

I'm back (again).

"W"