The weekend was nice, and three days long. Friday my couch arrived in all it’s squishy magnificence. I christened it with a two-hour nap, and we are now inseparable. Saturday I went to see the Gossip and the Battys, and drank four beers and danced like a loon. The bands were amazing, and the gig sold out quickly and after about 10.30pm the venue was running a ‘one out one in’ policy. It was the first Homocrime gig night/club night, and it was a roaring success.

[Three days later, sorry]
Well now it’s piggin’ Thursday and I have not had a chance to write all week. My trip to Chicago is sneaking up on me, and I still have things to get for the hen night and wedding. I am planning a traditional British hen night for Therese, but will not write any details here as she reads my blog…

Last night I met with Rachel to discuss the Independent article about Ladyfest Bristol. Everyone I know who’s read it has been taken aback by the writer’s snotty tone and her comments about shoes, hairy legs, and dungaree-wearing lesbians. Oh, and her assertion that it’s socially more acceptable to admit to being an alcoholic than a feminist… Ladyfest London 2002 organisers are planning a strongly-worded rebuttal. Rachel gave me a copy of the Unskinny Bop zine, written by Tamsin and Ruth, the best DJs in London (they played at Homocrime on Saturday night: Beth Ditto is a fan). These ladies need a blog/website NOW!

Overslept this morning and woke at 9am. Didn’t leave the house until 9.45am, and I am supposed to start work at 9.30am… oops. Nearly got hit by a car as I skipped across four lanes of traffic to reach the 159 bus. Normally I wouldn’t risk my life that way, but as it was travelling in a pack of three, I knew it’d be about half an hour before the next one rolled up. A van driver braked to let me across, but made his displeasure abundantly and fruitily clear. I couldn’t hear what he said, but I didn’t have to know how to lip-read to tell that there were a lot of F sounds.