May Day

First, a word on my two favorite moments of the "Day Without Immigrants" parade that I walked past at lunch today. The handwritten cardboard sign floating above the fray that read "Dykes for Immigrants' Rights", and the little boy in his stroller who was chanting "Si se puede! Si se puede!" all on his own while pounding his chubby little fist against his knee while his mom pushed him along with a blank expression on her face. Oh, and kudos to Ella's Restaurant who closed for the day so their employees could choose to march this afternoon.

Now my own frivolous "Mayday". Weekends are quickly being claimed as the L.C. prepares to leave for San Diego and I am afraid he will not get his act together in time to go out with me before then. This coming weekend, I'll be in Tahoe and he's off to SD. Next weekend, my dad is in Sacto for Mother's Day and Gma's birthday. He told me the extended family is getting together FRIDAY night to take Gma out to dinner. I was already planning to head out there for the weekend, but was thinking I'd leave Saturday and take Monday off to stay for 3 days. But now, I'm being encouraged to come and give them my entire weekend. Then, Dad wants to stay out here with me while Gma heads out on vacation Thursday. Meaning - he'd be here for the FOLLOWING weekend. The weekend after that is Memorial Day, and the L.C. has a camping trip planned. And that's it.

I feel guilty for trying to stall my family on the OFF CHANCE that I'll go out with the L.C., who HAS said that he'd like to hang out on a night when we don't have to go to work the next day. (Of course this sad little chronicle we call a blog details how that doesn't mean anything is ACTUALLY going to happen.) Outside of the month of May, I can't stop hoping that his being in S.D. doesn't necessarily mean I won't ever see him again b/c I'm planning to head down there some time this summer. But planning all these things around someone who hasn't even positively confirmed he WANTS to go out with me again - makes me feel pathetic. Don't I ever get to outgrow feeling pathetic where boys are concerned?

File this under something else I probably shouldn't confess to - I was thinking I should turn some of this introspective romantic angst into some sort of artistic effort, like a poem or a song. But then - the "Casa Bonita" episode of South Park came on and I decided I'd rather watch that then concentrate. "Black Bart's Cave! Awesome, cliff divers! More sopapillas, please!"