Despedida.

Terraza.

I told folks the party started at 7PM, cuz I knew that when you dealin' with a buncha POC's, they gonna be late. Most folks made it just in time for happy hour, though. One dollar off of a pina colada is so worth it. I was a little sad that Ricardo, my favorite bartender, wasn't there. I didn't learn the unfamiliar bartender's name, but I liked his hair. I tipped him with quarters from Zabrina's wallet. I always feel a little silly paying for shit with coins. But times is tough. (And Zabrina, I owe you a dollar).

We filled up the second floor of Terraza. That place has a bohemian feel to it. Like an artist's loft, as Irma described. In a far corner, by the big bay window, hung a hammock. I swung in it for a second, concluded that it would feel real nice swingin' in there if I had a stronger buzz. I only had one drink all night cuz it was free and I wanted to enjoy this party sober. Downstairs, it was queer night, and folks gave you a free drink ticket in exchange for your e-mail address. Too bad that there were no cute ladies for me to talk to (in addition to my cute FiRE ladies and friends upstairs). Just gay middle-aged white men who really dug my messy rained-on hair.

I made sure to catch up personally with every person who was there to see me and Cris off. I probably won't get to see all those faces for another two months. Those faces have always been so comforting, so pleasant. At meetings, at events, on smoke breaks, at Terraza Happy Hours, at PF, in school, on Twitter. Those faces, those people, those friends will remain in New York for now. And I'm sure I will see them again when we get back. We will come back, you know? Some folks are brave enough to face the slim possibility that we might not.

"Be careful! Be safe! Keep a journal. Write about your experience. You will see the truth. You're gonna come back a changed woman. Have fun! What's the link to that blog? I will pray for you."

In the midst of hugs, kisses, and good wishes, I teared up just a little bit. Just in time, cuz my contact lenses were gettin' kinda dry.

-Jackie