Project Recovery: Los Angeles Edition

Oh. My. Gawd. It has happened. I have finally experienced the two day hangover!

Timofy, Woods and I got up early on Sunday morning to attend the LA Pride Parade on Santa Monica Blvd. We had been staying at Lady E’s pad since Friday night. We decided to walk from the apartment instead of hailing down a cab since we knew we would have a hard time finding one anyway. On the walk north, we made a pit stop at Jamba Juice for a morning starter. I had no clue at the time that this would be the last, and only, thing I would have in my stomach the entire day.

We actually got to see the majority of the Parade. I did miss Elvira. Damn. But I was able to spot William Belli, E.G. Daily, and Amanda Lepore – all looking gorgeous riding down the boulevard. I did get to see Janice Dickinson, but the bigger question is who didn’t see her? She was a vociferous piece of floating plastic on a dark colored convertible with a fistful of fags stumbling, err I mean walking, besides and behind the car. Regardless, it was cool that she was all about the queens.

Once the parade ended, we were going to immediately walk into the festival until one of us made the suggestion of stopping for a drink at one of the local bars. We felt it was our duty to have a REAL drink before sealing our alcohol induced fate to the watered down vendors of LA Pride. Mickey’s had looked like “the happenin’ place” so the three of us unanimously agreed we would go there.

The bar was full of drag queens, trannies, faggots, dykes, not out military dudes, and even some hetero peeps. Everyone was having a great time. Woods and I ordered Bloody Marys which were high on the Stoli but low on the Bloody part. Timofy had a beer. Our intention was to finish our drinks then walk across the street to the festival, but after we had our drinks in hand, we headed out the patio area and well, that is where the madness began.

On the patio we ended up meeting San Diegans who were up for the weekend festivities. And how fucked up is that, I go all the way up to LA and meet people who live in my city. I come out to the bars here in SD and never meet anyone.

Anyway, long story short – I got so sloshed (like we drank so many Bloody Marys that they ran out of mix at the bar!) that I was licking nipples, feet, faces, ass and gawd knows what else. I also very loudly commented on the guy jerking off at the urinal in the men’s room. I made friendlies with some straight females, a few Sisters from the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, some hot (by way of beer-goggles) fags, and this one hot (even after looking at the pictures and by my tastes) older guy whom I may or may not have proposition to do me right then and there – and his boyfriend may or may not have been quite angry with me. Who knows?! I was drunk! And I wasn’t the only wasted bitch… ahem.

Lady E appeared at the bar sometime around 4pm... and that is still a hazy memory to me. We all left the bar at some point, but Woods and I couldn’t stay away so the two of us went back. Altho before we could go back in, the bouncers made Woods dump out all of Stoli we had stashed in my man-purse. That was kind of stupid since we got in with it the first time. I also think I made out with someone too.

We did enter the festival grounds much later on, but I don’t recall that at all. All I remember was waking up on the grass as I apparently crashed hard behind one of the vendors. Actually, I do remember being woken up again, except this time by a security guard, only to be wooshed away to another location as I was “making a scene”. I could barely stand up, so he was kind enough to carry me over there. He had very large muscular arms. It would have been hot if I wasn't so damn intoxicated. Woods was my savior as he took care of me while I dry heaved out nothing since the Jamba Juice had exited through my urine earlier in the afternoon.

Woods and I made it back safely to Lady E’s place via taxi cab around 11pm. Timofy was at Motherlode with Mnky while Lady E was M.I.A. – well, she was at Fiesta Cantina but at the time we had no clue where she was. The next day I woke up with a splitting headache and an empty belly craving a seven course meal. I was able to get food, but the headache didn’t stop. And still hasn’t. It's fucking Tuesday night and I still feel like hell.

Despite being one hell of a pride weekend, I will never drink on an empty stomach again. I have learned my lesson the best way… the hard way.