I was just doing the Feministe map of “strong geography,” where you mark a place that makes you feel strong, and I picked the bar in Cork where I came out to myself as a lesbian (as opposed to bisexual). Then I noticed that not too far from there is a street I never went to called “Dyke Parade.” Oh, this needs to be done.
From the October 2008 “Index”:
Average number of names added to the U.S. terrorist watch list each month: 20,000
Date on which Nelson Mandela’s name was removed: 7/1/2008
Annual salary of the Bush Administration’s director of fact checking: $60,000
I don’t know why this never struck me as strange before, but really now that I think about it, it’s quite amusing. Most smart girls’ mothers want them to be President when they grow up; my mother wants me to take the President to the Hague for war crimes when I grow up.
I had an amusing encounter at the bookstore today. I was perusing the LGBT section, which I tend to do frequently in June when they have 20% off everything for Pride. I selected Best Lesbian Bondage Erotica 2008 and went to the counter to purchase it.
Me: The sale’s going on until the month of June, right?
Saleslady: Yep, till the end of the month.
Me: Awesome. This is my third time buying books this month. *laughs*
Me: I just had to get this one, you know, because my friend has a story in it. I’d feel guilty otherwise!
Saleslady: *blank look*
I suppose when you buy lesbian bondage erotica, you’re not really supposed to chat about it. Oops. Failure at social graces #457. Oh, well.
Last night I was at a Quire rehearsal (the LGBT mixed chorus I sing in) and we were rehearsing in the nave where we’ll be singing for our concert next weekend to get a feel for the sound. Suspended above the altar was a giant dove, made entirely from white flowers and wire, to celebrate the season of Pentacost. It was lovely, except for the detail of the red string hanging from its beak. Regurgitating blood?
Watch out, folks. It’s the Attack Dove of Peace.