On Sunday, I Saw NYC’s Mayor … AND a Super Hero

New. York. City.

It’s a great place to live. We have parks, rivers, beaches, bridges, big shiny buildings, hilarious angry people, yellow cars to take you places and … on any given Tuesday … enough homemade Fettuchini to create a planet-sized pasta blanket. (NYC’s noodle output alone should warrant some sort of medal. A park bench with a plaque at least?)

But beyond the physical turn-ons (and our Carbohydrate Quilt capabilities), there’s something else that makes me stupidly happy I live here. The Acceptance. There is a crazy togetherness that comes from 10 million strangers agreeing to co-habitat a 10-mile island. It’s a gorgeous phenomenon, and nothing show’s it off more than Gay Pride Week.

Our city supports the LGBT Movement on a monumental scale. It is no small Pat-on-the-Back, You’re-Gay-And-That’s-Ok type of support, either. It’s full-on. It’s Hell-Yes-Girl! Go-Get-Your-Sex-Change. And I’m-Buying-Brunch-After-Your-Surgery.

This weekend, the Empire State Building became a steel rainbow and yesterday afternoon, I watched our Mayor Bill de Blasio march down the street in the Pride Parade. He was followed moments later by a biker … in ass-less chaps. And that dude was waving a sparkly tiara like he was trying to put out a house on fire.

Christopher Street was sprinkled from end-to-end with enough confetti to effectively repave the road and hundreds of thousands of people from all walks of life, from every background and every religion, stood on the sidewalks and cheered on our LGBT community.

Gay Pride is always my favorite week of the year. Ok sure, … spraying glitter and silly string all over everyone and sending 10,000 musicians marching on the streets is crazy fun. But it’s the pride aspect of this week that makes it so incredible. Pride isn’t something you’re born with. And the deepest conversations I’ve had with my gay friends have often been about the journey they took in order to find and foster pride within themselves. The struggles of coming out publically … of situations where that feeling of pride was taken from them by close loved ones who didn’t understand.

I’m proud of all of my friends … for many things. But I’m never quite as proud to know them as I am in late June … when a circus of fun, surrounding a serious fight of equality, rolls through NYC. And all of us end up dancing around together … in the middle of the street … all night long.

Here are a few images from the fun yesterday. To my friends who are LGBT … I love you dearly and saying I’m proud of you doesn’t even begin to cover it. March on, bitches!

Aaaaaaaand … the award for Best Costume goes to …. drum roll please! (Just kidding. It’s a blog. I can’t hear you drumming).

It’s a tie! Frankly … I was torn between great word play and freakishly well-toned ab muscles.

Frankly … I’m pretty sure that guy might actually be a super hero.

“Very gay … and here to save the day!” (I should be a writer.)