Fuck SD.

I got back today after spending the weekend at K's. We had fun. We went to that Halloween party Friday night. I had fun running around taking pics of everyone's costumes. If I hadn't been drinking vodka, it would have been a really long night. Most of the guys there looked/acted like the typical, annoying, frat/military dumbshit (which is what I expected for San Diego), and the women were all dressed in skimpy little outfits (sexy referee, sexy nurse, sexy something-or-other with her tits hanging out). Although there was one cool person - a guy dressed in drag. He had fake cleavage and a short skirt, and he let me grope his plastic tits. That essentially was the highlight of my night. So, the low-light you ask?

I went upstairs to go to the bathroom. While I was kneeling next to a couch, taking a picture of a life-size Marilyn Monroe cutout, one of the aforementioned dumbfucks walks up behind me, and in a sarcastically effeminate lisp says, "Oh, I like your long hair and horns..." I turned around, smiled, and headed for the bathroom. "Oh yeah," I thought to myself, "I forgot I was in fucking San Diego..."

For those who don't know, San Diego isn't really a part of Southern California. SoCal (Los Angeles/Orange County/Inland Empire) prides itself on being creative, open-minded, artistic and intellectual; San Diego does not. While most of SoCal is politically democrat/independent and even anarchistic, SD is mostly republican (partly having to do with the plethora of military bases in the county, party due to the traditionally popular racist/elitist views concerning the Mexican border...). I just forgot for a minute, luckily I was quickly reminded.

After I went back outside, where the non-SanDiegans were having a smoke and chatting, and after the very same dumbass had finished groping and fake-humping his thoroughly embarrassed girlfriend a few feet away from me, I pondered it all. Until, the guy in drag came outside. I got up and asked if I could his photo. He said it was cool, and even light-heartedly agreed to let me grab his plastic boobie for a pic. We both laughed at it all, and I returned to my drunken who-gives-a-fuck-osity.

In the future, I won't hesitate to go to a party in SD - I mean, shit, I saw more sexy women in short skirts and thigh-high stockings then I ever had previous to that night. It was worth it, I would argue.

The rest of the weekend was pleasant. K and I hung out, watched TV and ate fast food. I stood up while she slept, occasionally admiring her beauty and vowing to myself that I will never take for granted how special she is to me. She knows me better than anyone on this planet, and she loves me with a fervor that is sometimes difficult for me to understand or accept.