Potpourri: Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue.

So yesterday, I went on the marriage equality march in Washington DC. It started with the bus. No, it started before the bus. It started at 4:30 AM, which was when I woke up and left the house to get to the buses. It was still dark outside, and we made our way up to 43rd street sleepily. It was cold, and we were freezing. I was going to DC on a bus with 50 people, most of them gay. I went along with The wizardress and flower and a friend from school, Clara. We finally all got on the bus with loads of banana bread and shirts for everyone that said the name of the group we were marching for: broadway impact, at 5:30 AM. We settled in, because the trip from NYC to DC would take about 5 and a half hours.

Clara promptly fell asleep, and did not fully wake up until about 10 o' clock. The bus ride was fairly uneventful until the ending, as we neared Washington. Everyone on the bus introduced themselves, and let me tell you, I met some pretty cool people! And then, Gavin Creel, the amazing lead actor of the musical Hair on broadway, called us. He was on the hair cast's bus, who had taken the day off to march (the cast is filled with gays and activists). So Gavin Creel called and spoke to all of us on speakerphone, and though we couldn't hear him so well, it was totally awesome! (please excuse my annoying fan-ness, it doesn't happen often.) Then we got outside, and took the metro (very clean, fast, efficient, and even has padded seats!) tot he starting point of the march. We had with us two signs, one that said love is he law, and the other that said we were part of Cynthia Nixon's team from broadway impact (we were.)

We stopped to collect ourselves before the march began, and my three friends and I stood on a low wall while the rest of the group stood in front of it for a picture. Apparently, though we didn't know it, a camera crew for some news show was interviewing someone, and in the background and then zoomed up, us four girls appeared. My father says he got a message halfway through the day from his friend that, weirdly enough, he was sure he had seen his daughter (me) standing and holding a sign in Washington DC. So there I was, on tv. We began marching, and as our group approached, the people all applauded and let us and Cynthia (Nixon) pass through. I knew I was making a difference, I knew tha by being here and adding one more number to the crowd, I was helping make history. We broke out marching and waving signs and chant and screaming, and I screamed as loud as I could, I chanted each slogan at the top of my lungs (my favorite was "Yo! Obama! Let Mama marry Mama!"). Looking up at the sky, we found a beautiful gift: There, shining over all of our heads and rainbow flags, was, amazingly enough, a rainbow. Now you may not believe me, but I swear it was there, a rainbow for the rainbows.

You can see in the above picture how many people there were. There were so many people it just fades out and away past the horizon line. There was an estimated 200,000 of us. We all (or as many as could fit) finally finished the 2.3 mile walk and piled onto the lawn in front of the Capitol building. Hot and sweaty from the unseasonably summery weather, we took out our food and sat down to listen to all the speeches. My favorites were Cynthia Nixon's , Cleve Jones's, and Staceyann Chin's . We lay there in the grass and exalted in our combined strengths, our unity. I felt strong, I felt able to make a difference, I felt good.

Around 5:30, we left, and on leaving, I took this beautiful picture of two girls sharing a moment over the Capitol.

There had been a woman who, for about three hours straight, stood on the lawn and held her peace rainbow flag and waved it back and forth. FOR THREE HOURS. And this flag was pretty large, on a large bark stick. I mean, seriously, she had some muscles.

The Capitol was full of people, even as we straggled out, took the metro to our buses, and sat and enjoyed pizza from a delivery man. We then boarded the bus again and prepared for the long trip home.

On that ride home, we so totally watched a bunch of Judy Garland. So very typically gay, one of the stereotypes that seems to be oh so very true. Clara yet again fell into a deep deep sleep and no one could wake her. I myself stayed up until we reached dear sweet home NYC, at 11:30 PM. I went home and buried myself under my sheets and woke at 8:30 that morning, late for me. And then I had pancakes and told my family my story, as I am telling you.