As Dan would say, I literally awoke from the dead this morning. I had so much laundry still to do, but I slept in too late. When I realized what time it was, the rush began.

I cleaned up the house, did my remaining laundry, and got my things together to take back downtown. Dan and I chugged some coffee, and then embarked on our race against time. We wanted to max out our beach day at Hanlan’s Point, and the plan was to be on a 1 p.m. ferry to the island. That wasn’t going to happen, though. We only left Casa Z around 11:30 a.m.

After very quick stops for booze and groceries, we drove back downtown. Actually, I drove downtown. The reason this is important was because I got us there in record time, driving 160 km/h the whole way. But, hey. We got there! Dan and I made it onto the 1:45 p.m. ferry with about two minutes to spare.

The trek to the island is always just that – a fucking trek. Dan and I laugh, because every time we are together it’s like we are making a journey to Mecca. Our adventures are always such fucking pilgrimages. When we finally reach our destination, we just collapse in a pool of sweat and spend 15 minutes catching our breath. Once we got off the ferry, walked the ten kilometers to the beach, and set up shop, it didn’t take long for us to bust out the alcohol and weed. I fucking love the beach.

It’s funny how my relationship with Dan has evolved. I consider him one of my best friends. I originally met Dan through Connor and Evan, but now we just go off and do our own thing. We share the same vibes and sentiments on almost everything. Hanging out with Dan is always so effortless. I don’t feel on edge. We can sit in silence, and it’s perfectly comfortable.

A comfortable silence is my idea of a great friendship/relationship. I can only do that with a handful of my friends. Not surprisingly, those are the ones I like the most. Dan and I share similar views and opinions on our social life, money, music, movies – so many things. Simply put, our friendship is easy. It’s something I’ve come to look for and appreciate in my relationships.

After arriving at the beach and settling in, it took me almost an hour to stop sweating. We had been running non-stop since leaving Casa Z, and I needed to fucking relax. The Backyardigans I swiped from the house was certainly helping.

In typical Natasha fashion, she called me twice early this morning to get today’s game plan. However, because I had my head in the washing machine, I didn’t get back to her right away. When I did, she said that her sister Nicky was now coming downtown, and they were going to go shopping together instead.

“I didn’t hear from you,” she said. “I thought you were bailing on me.”

Girl, please! I am not the one who bails. You are! I’m so used to our plans falling through that I usually don’t get too hung up on them, but I really wanted Natasha to come to Hanlan’s today. I started messaging both Natasha and Nicky to get their skinny asses – just kidding, they have great asses – pon de beach.

The time was quickly passing by. Natasha and Nicky had confirmed they were coming, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath. Then, by some grace of God, I got a call from Natasha. She was pon de beach!

The sisters fucking made it. I was shocked. I was also very high, but that wasn’t as shocking as Natasha and Nicky showing up on the island. As I’ve said time and time again, getting to Hanlan’s Point is a motherfucking journey. For the two of them to get on a ferry and make their way to our spot on the sand was like seeing a shooting star. I was absolutely thrilled that the girls had arrived.

I gave Natasha and Nicky each a beer. We smoked, they bought us all alcoholic freezies from the Freezie Lady, and their bikini tops were off within a matter of minutes. Hanlan’s Point is a nude beach, after all. I love those girls!

In an attempt to join in on the “be happy with your body” party, I took off my swim trunks and spent the better part of the day in my Speedo. That was a huge step for me. I would put my bathing suit back on when I went in the water, and I kept taking my jorts on and off because of bouts of insecurity, but still – I wore a Speedo in public today. If you had asked me to do that even a couple of months ago, I would have laughed at you.

My body is not where it should be for me to be wearing a Speedo. But, what if I died tomorrow? I don’t think my last thought before death would be, “I shouldn’t have worn that Speedo.” Fuck it. I’m not happy with my body right now, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it in that moment on the beach. So, too bad.

Nudity in any form is incredibly freeing. I think Natasha and Nicky felt the same way. Especially Nicky. The kid is only 22. I was proud of her for being proud of her body. We judge ourselves more than anyone else is judging us. Once you realize that people aren’t talking about you as much as you think they are, nothing else really matters. Alcohol and weed also help, and fortunately there was a lot of both in my system today.

We all had a fantastic time. I controlled the music, we snacked, smoked, drank, had another round of alcoholic freezies, and went in the water for long swims. We would swim up to boats, hitch rides on pink flamingoes, climb aboard rafts – it was so much fucking fun. I need another beach day right now!

By the end of the day, I was pretty wasted. Not in a blackout sense, though. I was relatively coherent, but the mix of sun, weed, booze, and sand in your ass all combine to really zone you out. I barely remember taking the ferry back to the mainland, and I really don’t remember much about going to my apartment, either. A day at Hanlan’s is extremely draining, to the point that the memory of your return trip is usually fairly forgettable. It was an amazing day, though. Probably one of my favorite days this summer, second only to my Anniversary Love-In at Trinity Bellwoods Park.

Finally back at the Witch Cave, I got myself together. I can’t remember if I ate or napped, but I don’t think I did either. Maybe I had a quick nap. Anyway, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that I was able to shower and fix my mug enough so that Dan and I could continue with our plan of going to The Beaver for tonight’s party.

Before we left the island, Natasha said that she was feeling sick and wanted to throw up. After that, I assumed she wouldn’t be joining us this evening. She didn’t. However, Nicky was a real trooper and ended up coming over to the Witch Cave for the night. Natasha had apparently gotten a new couch at her condo that Nicky was not allowed to sleep on. I offered Nicky to share my bed, which she gladly accepted over sleeping on Natasha’s floor.

Lauryn and her random Australian friend joined in tonight’s festivities as well. Lauryn was acting so strange all night. To be honest, it began to bother me at a certain point. The same Australian guy had been to my apartment last year. I didn’t like him then, either. The guy was fucking boring as all hell, and Lauryn had a tendency of unconsciously pawning him off on other people. I wasn’t in the mood to make small talk with a heterosexual tonight. I wanted to listen to Mariah Carey and play Super Nintendo!

Honestly, a day at Hanlan’s usually cancels out any evening plans, because you’re just too damn tired from all the fun in the sun. The fact that The Beaver was still happening tonight was a small miracle. That being said, Dan was not in the greatest condition when he arrived at the Witch Cave tonight – to the point where he didn’t think he was going to make it out.

As Nicky and I were kicking the Australian’s ass in a game of Street Fighter II, Dan was ralphing in the bathroom. After that, he was good as new. That’s why I love Dan. The boy is always ready for a good time.

Eventually, we were ready to get the hell out of my apartment. I had warmed up to the Australian guy, but that was probably due to the fact that I was smoking pot like a goddamn chimney.

Outside the Witch Cave, the group knew we were going to need two cabs. Dan, Nicky, and myself would take one, and Lauryn and the Aussie would grab another. I don’t think Lauryn was too happy about that arrangement, though. Why? Because it meant she was going to have to pay for her own cab. Uh, yeah, girl. That’s how it works.

Lauryn tried to get us to order a cab for her – and pay – but that wasn’t happening. We said that we’d meet them at The Beaver, all the while figuring that they wouldn’t show up. Lauryn and the Aussie were staying in Leslieville. The Beaver was in the complete opposite direction, on the west end of the city. It wouldn’t make economic sense to travel that far if you couldn’t even afford the cab ride there. Add in cover, drinks, and a taxi back home, and you’re looking at a $100 night pon de town.

Despite my day of drinking and the smoking of an entire marijuana plant, I was surprisingly alert at The Beaver. That’s always a foreign experience for me. Dan, Nicky, and I immediately made our way to the back patio, which I was convinced I had never been on. Dan corrected me, confirming that I had been there many times before. Whoopsies!

The Beaver was fucking packed. I bought Dan a drink and we settled ourselves outside, which was where we spent the majority of our night. Inside the bar was just as busy, but you had to dance to enjoy it. I wasn’t drunk enough for that tomfoolery.

We saw a lot of people we knew, gossiped, and were having a great time. Then, as we were all laughing at our table on the patio, we saw Lauryn and the Aussie walk through the door. We were shocked. Nobody expected them to make it. Sure enough, there they were. I love Lauryn, but she was too much for me tonight. So much so, that Dan and Nicky had taken notice, too.

Lauryn was being really needy. When I wasn’t giving her my full attention, she wasn’t happy. Well, fuck that. I wasn’t happy when Lauryn pawned off her Aussie on us at the bar while she chatted with strangers. He wasn’t our friend. We didn’t like him, and I didn’t want to make small talk with him. Even when I declined Lauryn’s request to join her for a cigarette, she was deeply offended. Thankfully, Dan also enjoys cancer sticks. The two of them ventured off together.

When Dan returned to the patio, he told me that Lauryn had spent 15 minutes explaining an academic theory on sexuality to him.

“It got to the point where I had to interrupt her,” Dan said. “I had no idea what she was talking about.”

That was fucking funny.

Lauryn also wanted me to buy her a beer, and handed me a crisp $20 bill.

“Make sure to bring back all the change,” she said. “I need to give it back to my dad.”

Uh, girl. If you need to give your dad your bar change, you shouldn’t be at a bar in the first place. It was just a weird night. Something was off, and I wasn’t in the mood to figure out what it was. I wanted to talk to boys!

Fortunately, Nicky was the perfect wing woman. We interacted with as many guys as we could, with Nicky constantly up-selling me to strangers as she waited in line for the bar and bathroom. Still, no bites.

I saw a ton of people I knew tonight, but didn’t talk to any of them. It’s hard when you’re with a big group of people and the guys are, too. It’s also difficult when you’re the only fucking person at the bar without a beard. When did that become a thing? Is facial hair mandatory for gays now? It makes me want to laser my face off even more. I don’t mind a guy with a beard. I think it’s quite attractive, actually. However, I fucking hate my spotty facial hair. I’ll never be able to grow a beard. I also can’t stand shaving my face. Note to self: start using your laser hair removal device again.

I wanted to meet a guy tonight. That being said, I didn’t feel as thirsty as usual. I think it’s because I’m still embarrassed by my behavior over the last few months. Throwing myself at all those guys, one after another, hoping for a relationship. How pathetic. As if I even needed to do that.

The PW situation left such a sour taste in my mouth. I really don’t want to go through that again. I’m kind of humiliated by it, actually. Especially because of how many people are now aware of how PW dumped me. Usually when things don’t work out with a guy, it stays between the two of us. In this case, my brother, my friends, and all of PW’s friends know what happened. Furthermore, the way PW treated me afterwards was a bit of a punch to the stomach. I don’t want that again. I don’t want any of it. I want to run around doing whatever the fuck I want. I want to enjoy what’s left of my summer – sans men.

Of course, that’s not always within my control. Who should turn around beside me while I was sitting on the patio? None other than Tito. Jesus Christ on a cracker. Can’t I catch a fucking break?

Tito sat down beside me, and we had a quick chat. I was more alert than usual, which was certainly a bonus, but I don’t remember much of what we talked about. When Tito asked what happened to my foot, I told him that I had been run over by a bus. We had a quick chat about work, and that was it. I wasn’t looking for any sort of rekindling. That situation is dead. At least, romantically it is. I truly feel as though Tito and I gave our relationship a fair shot, and I don’t think either of us were looking to resurrect it for the fifth time tonight.

Eventually, Lauryn and Oz had left The Beaver. Dan and some friends were going to get Popeyes, and Nicky and I had decided that we would go to Denny’s. Don’t ask me why. We were simply adamant that Denny’s was where we were ending our night. Nicky wanted bacon, and I wanted potatoes.

After 45 minutes of waiting for transit, sneaking on, and then walking to Denny’s, we made it. And what a fucking lunch bag letdown. It was 3 a.m., and the host didn’t want to give us a booth.

“We need the space in case we get busy and a larger party needs it,” the teenage host said from behind her podium.

It’s three in the fucking morning, you half-wit. I think the rush hour has passed!

“More people are joining us later,” I said. “I also got run over by a bus, and need to keep my foot propped up.”

We got our booth. The joke was on us, though. Nicky and I were seated next to what could only be described as a Pokémon GO fan club. I’m talking about a group of twenty University of Toronto math majors, screaming at the top of their lungs when they found a Pikachu dancing on their pancakes. Note to self: after a long day of debauchery, I don’t wanna hear that!

Nicky and I were in Denny’s hell. On top of the Dragon Ball Z tournament taking place behind us, our bacon was cold and soggy and the potatoes were all stringy and shit. What a bummer. I had the waiter take our picture, tipped him a generous 15%, and then we jumped in a cab and passed out as soon as we got back to the Witch Cave.

Before we fell asleep, Nicky was having one of those moments where you want to talk to the person beside you in the dark. I usually love a pillow talk moment, but not at 5 a.m. At 5 a.m., it’s too fucking late for that shit. What an amazing day, though.

Goodnight xo