There may be time for a more detailed update, if I go into work and get suspended for calling in sick two days ago. But, as for now, I must make it quick since I have to get ready for work.

The march itself took forever to start, but once it did, the heat was not so nearly as painful as in those long moments where we were at standstills. People, god so many people. Estimates at half a million. And yet in this half million, I run into so many people that I know, so many New College people. I watched Rebecca lead a color guard of pink flags, and it was an awesome sight - it made me so happy. It made even more happy to see the drum corps of this band containing Robbie Radcliffe and Siggy.

After the march, we made our way up to the NYPL to meet up with Queer Fist. We were late meeting them and caught them as they were marching in formation to Times Square. The meetings had had maybe twenty people at them, but in this marching line, there must have been hundreds of radical queers, all walking two by two, to avoid being ticketed, an army of queers marching through Midtown. We chanted raunchy cheers through throngs of befuddled tourists before making our way to a busy corner, where the kiss-in happened. Not too much kissing happened. Everyone was a little shy, but the group then started to cross the street to move the kissing party around and stopped at an island in the middle of the street. They were hanging out there for a while, and Peter, Joe, Gina, and I decided to leave to go check the gathering at Central Park. Literarlly, as soon as we crossed the street, cops swarmed the island we had just crossed from, randomly arresting people. We watched from across the street, as everyone scattered, and soon they were shouting matches between the queers and the cops. It was turning into a very ugly scene with riot cops marching toward it, and so we thought it was a very good time to leave for Central Park.

Central Park was not the wild scene we expected since that was the illegal gathering. It was in fact, the calmest event during the whole day. Everyone just lied on the grass in smalll groups talking, and cops stood about on the edges non-aggresivley. It was so nice.

God, I am running late, but I really want to tell you in better detail about this day, but I know if I don't do it now, I probably won't later.

Anyways, went home, showered all the sweat and dirt off me, then went to Boiler Room for the Singles Against War gathering. So many of my crushes were there. Peter was pairing off with Chris. Craig did not want to talk to me despite my attempts. I was talking to Dominic until he asked me who my friend was. I introduced Joe, and then the two of them spent the whole night talking. I started talking to some 43 year old man because I was bored and he was hitting on me. The attention was nice, and perhaps this is why lately I have started to enjoy talking to old guys, just because I am not worried about that they think they are too good for me. And so, I spent my night talking to him and to this really annoying activist named Purple, who loved to talk about the cops, and about being arrested. Chris kept making fun of me for talking to the old man, which made me feel all the more self-conscious about how lame a night it was turning out to be, how I was the ugly stepsister no one loved, watching all my crushed talk to other people. I walked toward the subway with Chris and Peter, thought about this, about what it is that I want, and about the night sky, which was filled with huge clouds backlit by the moon, looking the palest shade of gray against the black sky.