DS, DS, lovely, lovely DS, what are you thinking? We were standing outside of the Mass. Ave. station in the South End and you took me in your arms and kissed me, and then you said, "we should keep in touch," with the off-hand delivery of a one-night-stand. Oh, DS, why do you speak so timidly around me? Why don't you ever laugh?
Spent yesterday talking Gardnerian Gossip with SLB and JK, who got into a two-hour argument over who'd seen whose copy of what grimoire in what year. I impressed JK (which is screechingly hard to do, since he's apparently made of stone and a Canuck to boot) by pulling a few Renaissance occultists out and shaking them before him vigorously.
Speaking of being witchy, Reclaiming, a really great feminist-ecological witchcraft tradition, is sponsoring my favorite activist magic ever: "Orgasms for Peace." That's something I can totally get behind, especially since the goddess of Terror Sex is looking down upon us so warmly.
I did not, in fact, go to Maryland today, since I'm a little too anxious about sticking around for job offers, not to mention shelling out for tickets and Greyhoundage. For lo, my bank book burns at both ends... [okay, is anybody else getting pissed off that the people who decide who's in and who's out started picking on poor old Edna St-Vincent Millay?] Then again, my health insurance is paid up for the next few months and I have enough to live on. Perhaps when that time's up I'll enlist to go and fight the Saracens. Excuse me while I wind my horn.
Current Music: the d-minor English Suite, in my head.