le petit loser

remember what it was like to be the biggest freak in school? in my case, i was 10 feet taller than everyone else and gayer than mario cantone on the rag. tonight, i think i had what they call in french: le post-traumatic episode.

i guess i haven't been out at a club by myself for a few years now and being on the road from monday to whateverday has changed all of that. i've got many nights to myself, so i generally try to get out and see the sights. currently, i'm at a conference in quebec city, which is beautiful and pretty gay. after my obligations with the 50 year-old borings, i ventured out to the bars. i saw a great drag show and sort of made friends with some french canadians. ...or so i thought.

we were all on the dance floor and all of a sudden i felt like they were making fun of me. i felt like they thought i was chasing them, begging them to be my friends. i'm pretty sure, in reality, i didn't come off that way. i couldn't have. i'm so cool in boston. i can hold my own in LA or NY or even Barcelona, for that matter. it was probably all in my head. maybe it's the self-consciousness of not completely knowing the language and being in a new town, but have you ever just felt like you were the big, fat, fucking zit-faced 16 year old girl in a room full of well-groomed, french speaking hotties? ...i felt it tonight. ...like they thought i was totally lame. i wanted to just go off on my own but at the same time didn't want to let them know i was afraid of them thinking that i was afraid of them. does that make sense? madonna blaring in the background, i'm pretty sure they were all saying, "loook at ze silly ah-mahr-eeeh-KAHN". *takes drag of cigarette*

fuck you canada.

when did i start caring about fitting in? i'm usually the motherfucking bomb of the party. tonight karma totally knocked me town like 50 pegs. i didn't fit in with the 50 year-old stock brokers, i didn't fit in with the 21 year-old gays, i felt alienated and rightly so.

so now i'm cleaning out my minibar and living it up in my amazing suite in which people can only make fun of me in english and to my face.

at the risk of sounding cheesey and drunk-blogging: here's a toast to all the fags who don't fit in with other fags. to fags who also don't fit in with their paycheck signing breeders whose asses they're supposed to kiss. to fags who make their own party wherever they go. to fags who idenitfy with a sigularity, who don't succumb to a bitchy elite. to fags who follow a path lead by their *generally* non-judgemental, english-speaking hearts.



...i also just realized that i stepped in dog shit on my way home.