Bruises

I'm glad I don't bruise easily, or else I would be purple and blue all over.

So, on Saturday, we went to the Pride festival! There were lots of bare boobs and penises on display, and lots of fabulous men dancing Michael Jackson moves upon request. A real San Francisco experience.

After pride, we returned to State for another bleak meal at City Eats. Mysterious potato things, and salad. No wonder vegetarians are so skinny.

Then, Renee and I grabbed a camera and an audio recorder, and dashed up to the CIIJ office. Zoneil and Suzy drove us across the bridge to North Berkeley. As we pulled up to 924 Gilman St, the bright red La Plebe van was parking. We jumped out, and after everyone woke up, grabbed portrait shots. After that, we went looking for a place to grab real food, but ended up at a skate park. Multi media opportunity for Jabari! We jumped out of the car, and started snapping shots. At some point, I ended up under a jump. Yes, you heard me, under it, with several teens ollie-ing directly over my head. Thankfully, only one person failed, dropping their skateboard on my shins.

After burritos, we headed back to the Gilman, just in time to hear La Plebe play. As the beginning chords were heard, people rushed into the space, banging heads and flailing arms, causing me to go into freak out mode, cradling the camera as if it were my child.

The events of Saturday taught me that being a journalist is a risky business. You have to be willing to shove your camera in peoples faces, and slow down and get good shots, no matter what pushy bikers are saying. I learned that being scared generally means you're getting a better picture. This whole experience has pushed me outside of my comfort zone, and that's what being a journalist is all about.

AAAH I sound like a sap.