Friday night, party! Spinach came over for dinner. We ate ricotta ravioli, foraged salad from the back driveway, and split a bottle of champagne. At the evening came on, we wandered convivially down 14th St to a party at Oasis club, a venue I haven’t been to since the midterm elections where I watched the election returns.

We attended Electroluxx, a collaborative party by a new arts and music crew. I was impressed by some of their previous decor at Public Works. The place was packed, almost exclusively young and gay, but there were some friendly faces in the crowded crowd. Mostly, I had a great time manuvering with Spinach from one of the two dance floors to the other.

Late in the evening, I looked over to spot two coworkers from my new company. Here I was, shirtless, dressed in not much except for a three-foot long, light-up, fluffy white tail. Back in the day, I would have scurried to the nearest exit. “Hi,” I shouted to the two of them. They were quite surprised to see me.

I’m finally more comfortable with who I am. I know the bartender – Javi, I’ve slept with the DJ – Danny – in two states other than California. These are my people. Why not just say hi?

Ages ago, one weekend morning, Greg and I ran into a coworker Jeremy at Four Barrel coffee. How do I introduce Greg? It’d be too shocking to call him my boyfriend. I just wanted either Greg or Jeremy to disappear. It wasn’t fair to either of them, and indicative that I wasn’t comfortable then with who I was.

I’ve been outed. I’m okay with that. You can borrow my tail sometime.