B-11, Betty Grable!

It's been a busy week. My social life is on the upswing again, which is a nice feeling. Don't get me wrong, I long for another lazy weekend spent knitting in front of a Law and Order marathon. I've just got too much going on. I've been struggling to find a good life/work balance lately. It's funny that this is more of a problem with just one job than it was with two.
So, this past week, I spent more time working on my textiles gig (technically a second job, but one of those loose, freelance things). It's really good, because Lisa, my designer, and I can just hang while we work. We even do non-work related things, like Drag Queen Bingo.
I should explain: you do not win a drag queen, not do you have to be one to play. The callers are a pair of queens, who were drunk, sassy, and took about a half an hour a round to get through the game. I had an excellent time. The Sam Adams rep was there raffling off an ipod, so I drank a lot more Sam Adams than I normally would (none), but still didn't win the ipod. I got pretty wasted for the princely sum of $4, as one of the other players kept refilling our pints to keep us from buying more. He didn't win either. Hee.
I also went to Ravinia again this weekend to see my favorite band play. I got there really early, thanks to the totally inconvenient train schedule and staked out a really good spot at the front of the lawn. Then I knit. We must have been a funny picture, knitting on the lawn while people around us danced, did weird drunk things, and generally grooved. It was an excellent concert, but Pink Martini always is. Afterwards, I managed to get some shut eye on the train, using my picnic blanket as a pillow, without getting locked in. It was a long day.
When I bought the tickets, I didn't realize that the concert was the same day as the Pride Parade. I should know when Pride is, because it's the same time every year like Thanksgiving, but I blanked on it. So last week, I had to explain at least a dozen times that I wasn't doing anything for Pride, like I was a bad fag hag or something (or queen bee, fruit fly, gay princess, etc.). During the jazz concert, many people were dancing on the verge between the pavilion and the lawn. Some danced well, others just enthusiastic. Jenny pointed out a very touching couple, who turned out to be a pair of lesbians. They were very sweet, and as I watched them, I felt like I'd seen Pride this year.