i scored a sweet spot on market street at third. it was oddly warm and completely fog-free. i fiddled with my camera in an attempt to distract myself from the annoyingly oblivious, yet cute italian tourists that kept stepping on my blanket and kneeing me in the back. initially things were very exciting—dykes on bikes, fancy ladies, and a vegan pig, but the sf pride parade is incredibly LONG, and i only lasted one hour before i had to make a pit stop at the palace. naturally i lost my spot so i herded underground to hop on muni toward the civic center; however, i was not prepared for that amount of choas DURING the parade, so i reversed course and started walking, or rather skillfully darting to protect my camera from the sloshing fountains of beer. i made it to the civic center in about 30 minutes, at which point i decided i couldn’t possibly carry around my bag ALL afternoon. i walked home, relaxed for a bit, and then walked back. i have no idea what time that was, but the parade was still blasting! this time i was unable to cope with the madness so i started drinking (thank you for the free shots!), which was an excellent decision as i ended up with some garlic fries, annihilating a chicken kabob (completely uncharacteristic of me), and doing a trance dance (also atypical) with a group of local femmes. i staggered home for the second time and collapsed on my futon, which is when i discovered that i'd only taken 25 mediocre photos—FAIL! aw, well…40 & fabulous! i hope i’m that much fun when i turn 40.