Sunday, 25 August 2013
Maybe I'm starting to get it right.
When I woke up this morning, I could hear in my head the Mr Rogers's song It's a Wonderful Day in the Neighbourhood to which I was singing along, It's a Wonderful Day for a Pride Parade....and it is.
And yet, I'm not going. I've been to 5 Pride Parades this summer, but only to two family events. One of them was our Family and Friends Picnic yesterday, which unaccountably left me feeling loving and loved but unable to make myself get out of bed this morning.
I know myself, in the sense that I'm aware that I often don't know what I'm thinking until I hear myself say it, and when I said, "The world will continue to spin if you stay home today. All your PFLAG friends will get it,", I felt amazingly good to still be in my nightgown while the parade is forming up at Gladstone and Bank.
I still feel Loud---wearing a turquoise mash-up of John Lennon and a peacock would have that effect, and I always feel Proud, and the world is unfolding as it should.