so he's in, her door is closed, and there is a trip to the hardware store in our near future for one more screen.
tonight I will be the only queer in San Francisco to be sitting at home instead of at the dyke march. Years ago a dyke march would have been occasion for dressing up and drugging up and drinking up and staying up all night to stagger to the big parade the next day--or not--but these days I prefer to appreciate it from afar. the crowd density in the castro tonight will threaten to collapse the whole city into just those few blocks. they certainly won't be missing me if I do not show up. whereas last night, for instance, every body was reason for celebration rather than anxiety.
for tomorrow I'm making up some fliers for the open mic I went to so religiously last year but have gotten out of the habit of attending precisely because no one ever made flyers or did any kind of publicity but goddammit if I'm going to read I want people there. I mean they might hate it but reading to an empty room is almost as depressing as playing for an empty room and it seems that just a little word of mouth will get an open mic going pretty well in this city. in any case I have to start reading again so why not invite the entire queer universe. and goodly portions of other universes.