I slipped off yesterday and sat in the Regulator bookshop because they've reprinted those old Ann Bannon lesbian fiction novels. I read I am a woman all the way through and swooned. I think I've been both Laura and Beebo Brinker.

But haven't we all, baby? *straightens postcard of Marlena Deitrich hanging on wall. It slips back crooked.*

Otherwise, I am being tersely domestic. Dishes and recycling.

But it rained last night, and I did both weatherwork and capitalism proud. Sold almost a thousand bucks worth of fouton in one fell swoop.

Yeah baby.

Tomorrow morning, it's all about the northbound silver serpent wingin' me to parts unexplored and a friend I haven't seen in an alligator's age.

I have 'leavin' on a jet plane' stuck in my head. The John Denver version.

Fuck, but I'm hungry. Here are some Very Different collaborations I have recently embarked upon. The stupid older page doesn't work well on the last one, so there are many more entries than it says. Ah well, and Tiens.

<<agé chose>>

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