Nun fixes own brain.

Little things have been going wrong all week, from going to the wrong P.O. to pick up a package that was sent to me to family foo to the office move & someone else's bad practice delaying the release of a two- three-month project. I don't even feel like updating LJ or checking out OKCupid.

It's time for Happy Thotz®:

• I'm having Ethiopian dinner with a friend - a queer & cute but happily partnered friend - at Meskel in less than two hours.
• M'boy comes tomorrow. There will be Red Mill tomorrow night, and maybe the Mini Maker Faire at EMP on Saturday.
• The new office should be really cool, and it'll be on a much less sketchy block downtown.
• It's about time to start getting my costume and stripping routine ready for Bang for the Buck, which happens a month from today. I have my song edited down and my accessory shopping list ready. I'm going to rock this as hard as I can.

What do you know? The Happy Thotz® worked!

paraphernalia and pedophilia

M'boy bought me, mostly with his own money, a Kindle. I'll never want for a bus book ever again. Happiness.

The first book I started reading was Temporary Autonomous Zone by Hakim Bey, which is a nom de plume of Peter Lamborn Wilson. I knew this essay was a favorite of ravers & Burners, and it's easy to see why: it espouses "poetic terrorism", i.e. vandalism and just generally being wacky as art and provocation. It doesn't have much to say about interpersonal relations, and it reads like a more earnest Book of Subgenius.

Where it gets creepy is if you read about Wilson. He's been a NAMBLA supporter in the past. The frequent mentions of boys in TAZ give me that oogy feeling, and I have a pretty strong stomach. I'm glad I borrowed this book instead of paying for it.