Oh, THAT kind of girl

I’m listening to an amazing DJ set on internet radio (the Crystal Method, being replayed from a live show). I don’t want it to end. I am such a whore for good music. It’s even more obvious when I don’t have nearly enough contact with it (far away from all my favourite clubs and artists, without a home computer to collect music on). It’s wonderful how much listening to this is doing for my mood. Awe-inspiring bass lines, even through my headphones. Amazing (almost, almost amazing enough to get online and book a ticket to their next show in LA).

Last week’s pony-people gathering was the best I’ve been to. I went out afterwards with exciting people and got drunk talking things over (which I so rarely do these days, the hangover the next day felt unfamiliar). The height of the excitement hit when a smart, articulate girl and I discovered each other’s love for ecstacy, dancing, crowd joy, that music. What a topic to be able to discuss, merely drunk and excited in a loud pub with bad jukebox music playing. Allies (kinky, articulate, progressive, queer allies) in the search for transcendent moments: priceless.

I watched D.E.B.S the other day. It was surprisingly good. Actually, surprisingly really good. I loved it, and not just because of the lesbian thing. It’s the funniest, smoothest action-spy-comedy I’ve ever seen. And the soundtrack, despite the poor review on the website above, is great.

I’ve got creation in my head again. Have the beginnings of the new zine laid out, and a bunch of images I want to create stencils from. A slight feeling of engagement with the writing/reading scene here to cap it off. It feels good.

On the confusing side of things, it seems that all the queers I meet these days are married. Legal and all. To people of another gender. I'm just not sure how to process being hit on by a stone butch top who is trying to get pregnant by hir husband.