"

[suspectclass]

Last night jabberwocki tried to tell me that God is a dolphin. Tonight she went with me to Big Food Sunday. The following things happened (I have given up paragraph form for an indefinite period):

We were honked and yelled at, then flipped off by a group of guys in a car. The real world descends upon my dyke-happy existence.

Upon arriving we were chided for walking and not calling for a ride. Only my chin and thighs were numb though, so I don't know what the problem was.

I ate four servings of pulled pork. I am in heaven.

bearsir gave me a shoulder rub

I was given one of the best compliments from a friend ever: "You're really good at picking out where the arguments are." This is more or less my goal in life, so it's good to know that I'm successful.

Related to the last point, I was instrumental in instigating a debate over the definition of "norm" v. "normal" which enveloped the entire room. Silence fell after I made my last point. If you've ever been to Big Food Sunday you know how unusual that is. It was lovely.

There were glow in the dark bugs. On underwear. On a person. Use your imagination.

I almost got a large man on my lap. damn.

The reigning elder butch congratulated me on my ownership of the term "dyke."

This didn't happen at BFS but still -- I dyed my hair so that at least for the time being it is once again dark brown. Not quite my color, but very nice.

It was wonderful, the food was fantastic, there was plenty of teasing, lots of smart and not too much competition for food. Lovely lovely lovely. Now I have to sleep it off. Call me in a month.

ps Just now someone called and I accidentally hung up on them when I dropped the phone. Ooops. This is what pork does to you! (at least if you eat 3 pounds of it in one sitting)