Goodbye Fantasia for Another Year

Our Fantasia experience was winding down, and it was time to say goodbye to those who weren’t going back to the hospitality suite, but the club started playing some 1980s disco to close out the night, tunes like Celebration, You Make Me Feel Mighty Real, Hot Stuff, etc. and GF and others wanted to dance to this stuff, so despite my poor aching feet, how could I say no?

The hospitality suite was only across the street,but by the time I managed to pry the door open, my feet were killing me again, and I staggered through the door with a staccato, “Owww… oww… ow!” to snickers of laughter. (Where’s the sympathy, empathy, support and understanding? Huh?)

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Cycle of Support

One of the great things about Fantasia Fair – the best thing in fact – is that you make friends so easily and these people are like old schoolmates that you can always talk to, even after years apart.

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He’s a Lying, Cheating Homo

Continuing my story from last night, our lesbian friend did manage to propose to her belle, and near as I could tell, the answer was yes. I say this because champagne was offered around and I saw them hugging. But she still didn’t seem satisfied for some reason…

She also was still perplexed by my existence and so was her fiancée. “You’re straight, right?” asked the lesbian fiancée.

“Well,” I said, “that depends on what you mean by being straight.”

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What a Difference a Year Makes

I arrived in Provincetown last night, tired and fighting a cold.

Tonight, I’m at Bayside Betsy’s bar listening to cheesy Olivia Newton-John tunes like “If you love me let me know, if you don’t then let me go…” and Neil Diamond, and drinking a very delicious Ginger Collins – a Tom Collins with a kick of ginger – very good.

I expect that tomorrow, I will go over to the Fantasia Fair registration office and say hello to those I know and tell them that I’d like to maybe have lunch with them a couple of times and attend a few of their shows, but that I won’t be registering for the conference or attending any of the galas or seminars.

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Going to the Hair Salon

Oh, it’s so exciting!

Today, I went into a hair salon with pictures of women’s hairstyles, and asked for a feminine cut! No hedging, no hemming no hawing.

The stylist looked a bit puzzled, but with my soft, reddish curls hanging all around my face in a clearly feminine way, albeit in desperate need of some styling, he went with it.

We discussed what was possible and what was recommended, and it wasn’t until after he had me in the chair, hair washed, that he asked me why I would want a feminine hairdo.

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