Vancouver celebrates Pride during the first long weekend in August, and I thought this year would be a disappointment because some things were changing, and boy do I hate change. Rachel tried to tell me about the wonders of “wait and see if something good happens” which SEEMED fake but actually turned out to be very true.
On Friday, we met up with a couple friends at a pub near our apartment. It was awkward at first, because they were friends from different areas of our lives. We had invited all of our (straight presenting) East Van friends to join us for a pub crawl, but most weren’t joining until later. Then we went down Davie Street to the Gay Village, and I was simultaneously overwhelmed by all the hugs from gay men who loved me because I married Rachel (they’re from her softball league) and overwhelmed by the fact that there was absolutely no space. Which is when our friends showed up! In pure chaos! The waiter wouldn’t even serve our table because there were so many of us crowded around it.
So we went back to the original pub, which was all the way down on Denman and therefore less part of the Pride scene. And it was then that everything became excellent and stayed that way for the rest of the weekend.
A couple years ago, our East Van friends went out drinking and wound up spending two hours going around the table with everyone saying a meaningful compliment about every other person. This Pride, I wanted to recreate the moment, so I got my half of the table to do it again. I’m very affectionate and very bossy when I’ve been drinking, and if someone veered into a tangential story, I would firmly redirect them to getting back to their compliment. This happened so much that one person complimented me on being “structured” and used my handling of this social event as evidence. I’m both embarrassed and flattered? Story of my life. But it was wonderful, and put me in such a good mood for literally…all the way until now.
Amy, Jayse, and Nick came back to our house until midnight, which is like, such a big deal for me nowadays. After being social for eight hours straight on Friday, Rachel and I took Saturday easy. Except for the Vancouver Rise game! This year Vancouver has a professional women’s soccer team, and we have season tickets. I had grand plans to become friends with the people with season tickets next to us, but mostly we go, “Oh, that was close!” at each other and then leave to buy things at the food trucks.
On Sunday, we hosted our traditional Pride brunch. This was one of the things that I was fearful of, because usually we cram over twenty people into our one-bedroom apartment before descending upon the parade en masse. But the parade moved locations, and several of our friends moved away over this year. Quality over quantity, Tricia!! We had eight people at the brunch, and it was wonderful! We ate, talked, and played card games.
New experiences continued – with the parade too far away to watch, we hit up the vendors in Nelson Park instead. Rachel, Nick, Sean and me spent the rest of the day together, and honestly, I could not have asked for a better foursome. We got all the free things we possibly could at vendors, played the mini golf course set up in the middle of the street, and then went to Sean’s apartment for a costume change.
The boys had found an event called Rainbow Rodeo for us to go to that afternoon, so Rachel and I wore cowboy attire. Nick had cow costumes saved from a drag performance, so he and Sean went as our cattle, and Rachel had an enormously fun time trying to lasso them.
We got to Rainbow Rodeo, which we assumed would be full of gay men (as most queer events in Vancouver are) and where I figured we would part ways with Nick and Sean. But oh, how the tables have turned! It was a queer lady party! So much flannel, denim, and body hair. Hilarious to me that that morning, I had asked Rachel if I should shave because I feared being judged by gay men. I intentionally rejected the patriarchy and didn’t shave, and then we wound up with a bunch of women as hairy as I was! My people.
When we could line dance no more, we called it a night. A long walk back to the West End led us to McDonald’s, a park to go swinging, and then to Dan’s house for a couple quick games. We blearily stared at each other at 9:30pm and realized we had to call it a night for real. Laying in bed when we got home, I asked Rachel what her favorite part of the weekend had been. “Everything… just everything!”
Same, babe.
It Is Trish 