On Saturday I got up early, donned my favorite rainbow dress, and headed out to meet up with a friend. The plan was to ride the Metro down to the Civic Center station. The original plan had been to bring my bike with me, but considering the expected attendance of the rally, I amended my plan to exclude my bike.
When we got to the Metro station it became clear that there would have been no way to cram my bike on the train, the platform was packed with protesters and we were crammed like sardines en route.
It was thrilling to ride together, strangers united under a common cause. The atmosphere on the train was positive, the spirit was kind and cooperative. At each station we picked up more companions, with still more appearing on the platform.
We arrived upon a scene of thousands and the strength in numbers was both empowering and reassuring.
Each time I attend one of these things, the signs get wittier and prettier.
All of the speakers shared tremendous words of encouragement, reminding us that our true enemy is ignorance. We were asked to open up to friends and families this Thanksgiving holiday, to educate those whom we are not as visible to.
The most poignant to see, however, were the children of gay parents who have been completely forgotten in this argument, marching with the rest of us, holding their signs the highest.
While so many children suffer the disruption of their families in divorce, does anyone really have any right to strip away the validity and value of a child's two loving devoted parents?
I got home just in time to hang out with friends in Hollywood, watching the wildfires on the news as if it were the end of the world. An atomic sunset fell in a sky thick with ash. The air was on fire and it burned my lungs as I biked home to prepare for further adventures.
I drove to Highland Park to celebrate a friend's twenty-fifth birthday. Up until now, I had never been acquainted with the neighborhood at all, apart from a few stray visits. I find myself there with some frequency these days and I am developing a fondness for it. Los Angeles is truly a diverse city, and anyone who says otherwise is rather unfortunately ignorant.
Sunday brought breakfast at a kitchen table, which is such a small luxury that I am tremendously grateful for. With his new birthday bike, my pal and I went for a brief ride. We were going to ride to Glendale, but the air was impossible.
With any luck, tonight I will attend a lecture on photography at LACMA and then sneak down to La Cita for a little bit of dancing.
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