not now, but soon

1. Catering on Nyquil
2. Girlfight in drag queen's bedroom, also on Nyquil
3. The advantages to scoring standing room only tickets to Janacek's opera The Cunning Little Vixen
4. Another love letter to the Spaceship
5. How it feels to see rainbow flags flying up and down my town's main street
6. Best friend noticing that I am developing a pronounced streak of white hair

In the meantime, can I just say? I'm as proud of my sexual orientation--if I can be said to point in a particular direction, which is questionable--as the next San Franciscan. But did Civic Center (my 'hood, as it happens) need to get so utterly trashed for Pink Sunday? Seriously, I had to wade through flotsam above my ankles to get to the BART station this afternoon. The ridges of the escalator treads were white and pink with paper, broken plastic cups, and junk mashed beyond recognition. Traipsing home just now, there was still hardcore cleanup action going on. It's really embarrassing, you know? We're out and we're proud and we're complete pigs. I'm having this fantasy about next year; in it, I'm in full dominatrix gear and I'm making a battalion of subs crawl around between the drunken, sunburned people, picking up trash.

You can take the girl out of Burning Man, I see, but you can't take Burning Man out of the girl.