I’ll be marching in the parade tomorrow. When I agreed to do so, I had forgotten that we are now closer to June than to March. I had also apparently forgotten that Columbia, while being comparatively cosmopolitan, is still actually in South Carolina. Not that I’m worried about that sort of thing. Much.

Local newsweekly feature with more information on the march, and the general state of the ‘Gay Agenda’ (hint: not good) in SC. It includes a rundown of all the bills, more than a few, introduced in the state House over the last six months specifically tailored to prevent GLBT folks from achieving equality.

Anyway, here’s hoping I actually feel like I’m doing something tomorrow, other than proudly proclaiming my affiliation with a marketing demographic. I can’t decide if that’s too cynical a view, not cynical enough, or just right.

I had several consultations throughout both middle and high school with this one particular guidance councilor who never really understood why I, despite making no secret that I genuinely liked her as a person, would not let her do her job. That is, get inside my head and help me figure out why I was so fucked up. I always got the feeling, as we sat making small talk about nothing at all of any relevance whatsoever, that she regarded me as a personal and professional challenge, a conundrum.

Lately I’ve noticed a parallel with one of my current relationships. Namely, the one between myself and the weblog software I’ve been trying to set up for the last three days. Everything will be going along smashingly, and then boom, total brick wall. Over and over again. And the most frustrating part is that this is something I’m supposed to be good at, something I plan to do at least semi-professionally at some point.

Despite the fact that I’m beginning to understand the frustration I put that poor woman through, there really is no reason why one would put me in mind of the other. I think Karma has tipped its hand in my direction.