Parisa's Page

I am waiting for your arrows, one for me, and one for the man of my dreams. You have less than a month to make this happen. Otherwise, I will be Valentineless. And once again, I will be scouring the streets of San Francisco at 1 AM, looking for someone to makeout with. It would be nice if, for once, I could approach this holiday prepared, not with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, but with a dashing, dapper devil who is all up on me like hot fudge on an ice cream sunday. It would also be nice if he… Continue

There was a blip of darkness on one atypical Monday nite at 3 AM. After a nite of gay bars and lots of gay men and lots of free drinks, we were back on the street. During the fifteen minute walk home, my arm was linked with a deceivingly straight man that my dear friend West wanted to take home with him. I was supposed to help him seduce him, or something; I don’t remember the plan. There probably wasn’t one. But then I remember my back against a red-brick wall, his arm around my waist, and his… Continue

We could stay in tonite, watch Home Alone I and II, drink hot toddies, and share a cozy fleece lap blanket. But instead you suggest we go ice skating downtown, so we do. We put on our thrift store holiday sweaters, scarves, hats, and gloves, and we set out for the cold nite, warm in each other's arms. We wait in line patiently as moms and dads bundle up their anxiously excited children. We smile at them, wish them happy holidays, and tell them how cute their kids are. Once we are on the ice, we… Continue