Notes from a weekend in progress

1) Sorry, amarama, I cannot join you in your anti-burlesque crabbiness (or is that more accurately post-burlesque longing?) Any time girlies want to take their clothes off in front of me is fine with me. Not that I'm not into having other performance revivals, too. I'm just filled with happy memories of fat girls in shiny costumes shaking their stuff.

2) Speaking of which, when the Fat Bottom Revue said they were going to read from the works of Hanne Blank, I, well, expected them to read the words of Hanne Blank, not from Zaftig. When the first reader came out and brandished the anthology, I had a moment of utter panic that they were going to read my story out loud. Thank God that didn't happen, especially since I was sitting next to somebody who would have eagerly pointed out that the author was in the audience.

3) The argument for raw milk cheese is succinctly made by tasting the two versions of Redwood Hill Farm's goat's milk feta side by side. The pasteurized version is perfectly fine, mind you, delicious even, way better than most fetas you've ever tasted already. But the raw milk version has a complexity that I wouldn't have expected. It is totally addictive.

4) Why, oh why do I keep running into a certain butch trick of mine when I'm out in femme drag? I never know what to say in those circumstances. Maybe freakysparks has some advice? Anyone else?