Ellie and I are having an impromptu sleepover because the bus apparently gets less reliable the later it is. I was already pushing the limits of how late I was comfortable staying out, and the bus was running more than fifteen minutes late. If it ran much later, I knew I would be lucky to get home by 12:30AM. I'm running a delicate balancing act right now between things that scare me because they're new and things that scare me because they should actually be scary. I never want to miss out on something because I'm scared of the world, but I also don't want to be an idiot about it. Tonight I decided to err on the side of caution and walk the six minutes back to Ellie's house. In the future I've learned I shouldn't push my comfort zone quite so hard if I know I'm already staying out kind of late, and for tonight I'm safe at home with Ellie.
My greatest battle of wills in Chicago, my huge arc of self vs. self conflict, has been avoiding bookstores as much as possible. Bookstores are my Achilles heel; I can't remember a time in my life where I couldn't spend hours and a significant chunk of my bank account in them. These bookstores have been even more alluring because, through all of Pride month, just about every bookstore I've passed has had a Pride display, tables full of books full of gay. Today I finally gave into the temptation and visited Unabridged, a bookstore in Boystown. The Pride displays were beautiful. This lapse in my self-control lead to the fulfillment of the quest I failed last night. I went into the store hoping to find two gay books, one history book and one fiction book. Almost right away I found The Stonewall Reader in the Pride display. This book is exactly what I wanted. It's a gay anthology with three distinct sections: before Stonewall, during Stonewall, and after Stonewall. Pengui...
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