The air is crisp and cool. The sky is blue and the sun is shining. There aren’t enough words to describe the feeling. Thus, the picture.

I skipped another social engagement I would have thoroughly enjoyed today because I was slammed with exhaustion. I sat around all day, reading a very good book that is difficult to put down (Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close). I must say, this is one of my most enjoyed states of being: tired, relaxed, with nothing else to do but read a delicious book. Yum.

After a day of complete relaxation (but no napping because I didn’t want to lose a single minute), it was hard to imagine going to a party all alone and being my charming, good-looking self for a bunch of strangers. Especially after a day of dedicated edification, I am likely to be a blabbering fool with a few more embarrassing moments than flattering ones. I gathered up all my conviction and self esteem though, jumped in my trusty pickup, and hustled through a few cold Portland neighborhoods to reach my destination.

I felt awkward walking into the house. There were only a couple of people who had previously arrived. The fire was blazing and the hosts’ home was cozy and felt safe in that way I particularly like. I sat down in a hard back chair and tried to smile a lot while sipping my tea and nodding at the most profound and interesting opinions shared by the small crowd that began to form.

A large emigration from the living room to the back yard left me inside with the nonsmokers and conversation came light and easy. I got to know a few people tonight, and have decided that getting to know people is one of my most favorite things to do.

The more people I meet in this life, the more they run together. I see my loved ones and old friends reflected in facial expressions, gestures, language. I’ll wonder how two people I have known from entirely different places and times can be so similar and evoke the same feelings and reactions in me. It’s easy to just take all that love I feel for that person from so long ago and apply it to this person I hardly know at all. I never tell them, though. I like to keep some things for myself.

I won a raffle at Dirty Queer last night. I’ve won a couple of raffles this year and I’m feeling pretty good about that. My mom used to say that I was lucky. She’d let me pick the lotto numbers. My grandpa always let me bet on whatever horse I liked, even though I never really had any good reasons behind my choices. I really loved going to the race track with my grandpa. I felt so special and grown up and it was an adventure every time.

So this is what it’s going to be like. No clean beginning, middle, and end to this post. I’m going to just ramble through and maybe the tangents will braid into a beautiful knot. I’ve always wanted to learn how to tie intricate, complex, and symmetrical knots.

Back to Dirty Queer.

I didn’t really know what to expect when I showed up at In Other Words* last night. I certainly wasn’t expecting 115 queers packed into a little bookstore. The lovely host, Sossity Chiricuzio, explained the rules and the objectives in a few different ways throughout the evening and by the end, I had a little better understanding than when I had walked inside.

First of all, I’d like to take a moment to appreciate being surrounded by 115 hot queer people in a feminist bookstore on a Friday evening, eager to share and to support each other. I know I’ve told you this before, but I’m just going to keep saying it until you feel the same way I do. I love Portland. I love Portland more than anywhere else in the world. Sorry, San Francisco. I think I’m finally over you.

Dirty Queer is an open mic. If you’re queer (like me), you’ve probably been to a couple of open mics. This one’s a little different though, seeing as how it’s intended to be X rated, a celebration of sexuality. All kinds of creative performance are encouraged: poetry, stories, charades, dancing, anything you can think of. Sossity did recommend that whatever you do, it deserves at least an R rating.

I was very impressed by the courage of my fellow queers to stand up there in front of all those people and talk about sex. In a society insistent on suppressing sexuality in all its forms, I thank the universe that I get to be queer and part of a community that is willing to talk about sex and think about it and share stories about it and grow through it rather than being tortured by it. Sometimes I feel like the luckiest person on earth. So I guess it made sense that I won the raffle.

Dirty Queer was only an appetizer, though. I tucked all that good energy in my back pocket and headed to Gaycation, quite possibly the funnest (is that a word?) queer dance party in Portland. Gaycation happens once a month, and it happens at Holocene (which is nonsmoking, thank gawd), and it’s packed and crazy and so much fun I can barely stand it. Ali and I fulfilled our tradition of dancing on stage, above the crowd with barely enough room to scoot our feet around in a little shuffle dance maneuver. I danced and danced and danced all night long, while the crowd got stinky and pixilated and rude and then genial again. Standing outside in the cold after most everyone had already left, my body felt spent and content. Oh, it feels so good to dance it out.

On little sleep this morning, I tied Miso to the seat post of my bike and rode through the crispy yellow leaves all the way downtown for the protest against Proposition H8. Quite a few people crowded around a little stage while our local motivational speakers yelled through a bullhorn about solidarity and hope. I kept wanting to ask someone, “ok, so what now?” The ACLU canvassers who wandered around the edges of the crowd, fishing for supporters sure had the answer. “Money talks.”

(This knot is not symmetrical and seems a little tattered at the ends. There’s only so much I can do on short notice.)

Before I forget, I also wanted to make a shout out to my new friend. How do you do the terrorist bump over the internet?

* In Other Words Women’s Books and Resources is the last surviving non-profit feminist bookstore in the United States.

There’s an extra quiet in the evening. The whole world seems to go to sleep long before bedtime. I imagine everyone in Portland cozy and cuddling in front of a fireplace, reading a book and feeling safe and warm. Life is good.

And then I start to feel restless. Sometimes the darkness presses down on me a little too forcefully and I want to push back, do something crazy like go for a bike ride in the middle of the night. I feel all cooped up in my house and I need to do something, anything that will make me feel productive and alive again.

I haven’t felt depressed yet this year, but I’m no stranger to the sadness that can creep up out of the wintery cold and cause me to lose sight of myself for awhile. I have a long, long way to go before spring lifts me up, but so far I’m avoiding descent into emotional valleys with daily exercise, going on lots of dates with my excellent girlfriend, and going to T’ai Chi class after work.

Does your routine change when winter comes? How do you stay active when it’s dark so much of the time?

And so I’ll be joining other Portland folks on Saturday morning at 10:30 as we join together to protest the inequality that continues to pervade this great country. Cities in every state in America will be protesting at the same time on Saturday. Let’s get out and make ourselves heard.

Check out Join the Impact to find a protest near you or for more information.

The Portland protest takes place at 10:30am at the Portland State University South Park Blocks.

We stopped off at the farmer’s market for a snack and a latte. I saw a few old aquaintances I felt no obligation to interrupt and also someone who looked just like an old best friend’s mom. Does this ever happen to you? It seems to happen to me a lot.

When I’m visiting an old home town, my familiarity-seeking feelers come out and search every public space for old friends. Then I see someone who looks just like someone I knew a long, long time ago but I’m too chicken to ask them if they’re my long lost friend. So I’m left wondering for the rest of the day. I guess I think wondering is better than the risk of being disappointed (and slightly embarassed).

I took the dogs to Watershed Park while Agent got started in the tattoo chair. Miso had a great time jumping in and out of the mud and Farmie pranced around in her jacket, matching the bright green leaves all over the ground.

The great thing about Olympia is that it’s in the middle of the rainforest. Everything here is so totally alive and fresh and green. I feel I can really breathe, deep and full breaths of sweet, cool, autumn air.

I’m going to attempt to post pictures in the correct order, something I haven’t succeeded in doing before from my iPhone. You may not even be able to notice the difference.