The most beautiful one yet

Never Done: Fist bumped a guy at the gym
Never Done: Saw Rimma morning, afternoon, and night
Never Done: Youth Pride Chorus
Never Done: Jell-Omenoyre

I re-learned something valuable today about decisiveness. It increases productivity. I was in spin class, and I was hating it. It was my fourth class and my fourth teacher, and I was just not engaging or participating at the level that I had with the other teachers. The resistance was too hard from the start, and the intervals were too long, and I found myself backing off, and we had only been at it for 10 minutes. After another 5 minutes, I started to think about leaving. I kept on, half-heartedly pedaling, thinking about how much better it would be if I would just leave and do my own workout, when I realized that if I just made the decision and acted, that I would be in a good workout much sooner. So I leaned over and told Rimma I was leaving, and I think she said, "really?" and I jumped off my bike and went and ran 2 miles on the treadmill.

Around 1.5 miles, I started thinking about quitting. I was getting tired, maybe I had done enough, it had been 20 minutes (I started with a warm-up) and I could go lift weights .... and then I realized that the decisiveness cuts both ways. If I would just make the decision to run for my full 30 minutes, I could stop spending my time wondering if I was going to quit, and I could spend my time thinking about more interesting things. So I decided to just do the rest of the run (which turned out to be easy) and set about to think about Something Interesting. Here's how it went.

Me: What do I want to think about?
Me: What do I want to think about?
Me: What do I want to think about?
Me: Maybe I should sing.

(I had left my locker key in Rimma's pocket, and so I couldn't get my iPod to listen to music or podcasts.)

Me: What should I sing?
Me: Maybe I'll sing the Hallelujah Chorus.
Me: For the lord God Omnipotent reigneth. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

And before I knew it the workout was over. I hadn't quit, or even thought about quitting since making the decision.

When I was leaving the gym, one of the guys who works there was coming in. The people who work at the Y are really wonderful, and I've enjoyed getting to know them. As this guy came in, two younger guys were leaving, and he fist bumped them both on their way out. Then he saw me, gave me a "what the hell" look, and fist bumped me too.

I loved that he crossed the age, gender, and race barrier and fist bumped me. I took at an acknowledgement of my decisiveness. (But really, I just like being one of the guys.)

In the afternoon, I went to one hour of Queer Memoir because it was in the LGBT Center, where Adoption/Parenting class is held. I saved Rimma a seat there (she had gotten me a ticket for spin that morning) and stayed long enough to hear a wonderful spoken memoir about the horrible parenting of young girl who would later become a trans man. I left, tears in my eyes, and walked two flights down, to learn how to be a better parent than that. Or not. From class, on to Youth Pride Chorus, where the waterworks started as soon as the first girl started to sing. I don't cry all that easily, but there are a few things that will always make me cry. One is children's marching bands. Another, apparently, is teenage LGBT choirs. In fact, they made me want to cry so much that I ended up with a headache from pushing the tears back in. The thing that is so moving about them was that they do exhibit so much pride. Did they all have great voices? No. But they sing with incredible pride and commitment. (And some of them have great voices.) I want every single LGBTQ teenager in the world to have access to that sense of comfort with self, and place in community.

So by now it's 7 PM, in the West Village, and I have been invited to three khanike parties and a khanike concert. It was hard to choose which one to go to, but when I realized that Rimma would be at one of them, and I could then see her morning, afternoon, and night, which I have never done, I decided to go to Dara B's party. Which turned out to be super fun. So fun, in fact, that instead of just staying for 1/2 hour and getting some sleep, I was there til midnight, talking, among other things, about films, doctors' complicity in torture, heartbreak, a feminist approach to online dating, tattoos, and decisiveness. A really good crowd of people. And I got an invitation to do karaoke next weekend, which I have never done. (I'm sorry, Kathleen! If for some reason I don't go, I'll save it for you!)

When I got home, I had a Facebook message asking if I had a new menoyre for the fourth night. And in fact, I had prepped a bowl of red cherry Jell-O in a clear glass bowl, in hopes that I could stick candles in it, and make a Jell-Omenoyre. Success! It came out beautifully -- the blue candles glimmer through the red Jell-O and the glass bowl, and the flames reflect off the surface. It might be the most beautiful one yet: