Last night I got to go to the launch party for this year's Outfest, which took place poolside on the rooftop of the Bel Age Hotel. Can we say amazing view? At one point, I had to go and stand at the very corner edge of the roof, where I could take in the entire city. Breathtaking. And the party was nice too. I ran into a couple of friends and got to meet some new people under the guise of now being in the development dept. of a pretty cool gay-friendly studio. Also it was an open bar, which I can never hate on. There was plenty of talking about "gay" cinema, as I tried to feel a little more proper than my t-shirt and scuffed pumas allowed. For some reason, I always second-guess myself at these functions. Should I be a little more out there? Better primped? A little more aggressive in meeting people? A little bit more of a whore? I always hear that you have to network to get your foot in the door, but my foot is in already. So do I still have to be out there waving and saying, "Hi. How are you?" to every complete stranger? I don't want to feel like Jade in her doomed Cover Girl commercial. As I said to some guy last night upon answering him from the hip, "I like to keep it real. That's just me." And driving away from the hotel, I thought even more about how I have gotten the most ahead in my life when I have just surrendered trying so hard and have just been myself.

After all this, I went over to The Kitchen for some of my favorite cornbread that the lovely David always knows to bring me. Then it was over to Akbar, which has now become my favorite watering hole here in L.A. My favorite bartender, Sebastian, had his last night, and I popped in with some friends to say farewell. I told Sebastian how he was the only bartender in the city to ask me my name and memorize my drink, which is big points in this boy's tipping book. I guess I should be glad that he is the only bartender like that in the city, given that it exhibits that I am not some raging alcoholic known throughout the town as Ketel Soda Angel. Still, going where everybody knows your name when you do go out makes the whole experience a lot more comfortable and enjoyable.

Anyhow, the man made me a free lemondrop, which completely made my evening. I explained to my friends how in this song I had just heard for the first time that day, Superpop, Madonna rattles off what she thinks are the top of everything. Animal, lion. Actor, Brando. And drink, lemon drop. I had thought to myself, I should get a lemon drop because I have never had one. And here I was being handed one. I felt loved.

I know.

I mean, really.

It's a lemon drop.

I'm just a nerd like that. But a little serendipity makes all the difference sometimes. Especially after an earlier evening of questioning whether I should try being more like others to get ahead. I mean here, just being myself, got me a free drink. And Madge's favorite to boot. I think it just goes to show that even in a town as grand as Los Angeles, there is still perhaps a little room for a guy like me to make it all the way to the rooftop by just keeping it real.

At least I like to think so.

What about it?