all's well that ends well

So my friends won first prize in the drag show Saturday night! Which, if you ask me, is only logical; of course the official campus feminists would be kick-ass drag kings. And I really wish I could have been there to see it. But, it's just as well I wasn't in the act, 'cause guess who was one of the judges?

That's right. TeacherCrush.

And I had a meeting with her this morning to discuss my term paper, which I survived fairly well, but there is no way in hell I would have come out of it alive if I had spent Saturday night prancing around in front of her with tube socks stuffed in my crotch.

god, I didn't know it was possible to die of theoretical embarrasment, but just the thought of it makes me want to crawl in a hole and end it all.

Anyway, I saw the pictures, and they all looked fantastic. I'll send you some L., as soon as I get copies; just wait till you see J. in her mullet wig. She looked exactly, in her words, "like a Mexican gangster." I mean they were seriously butch. It's awesome.

Speaking of butch, I got my CDs from Amazon this morning (about damn time):

The Butchies, Make Yr Life: 3 (fucking gorgeous) butch dykes, 1 bad-ass punk band. I know crap about pop music so I'll just leave it to them:

The Butchies’ fourth record is like alpenglow (a reddish glow seen near sunset or sunrise of the summits of mountains) absorbing into your pores – it simply commands a high-energy, emotionally-stuffed response. Make Yr Life is a colossal, intimate connection between the unrivalled punk-rock trio and their audience. It’s like waking from a coma, or like having your dog lick away your tears, or like the first kiss with that sexy girl with moonlight splashed on her face. But it’s also true that Kaia, Melissa and Alison’s intent with this record is simple: World Domination. If after listening to this 10-track cream dream you don’t feel like you just had one of the biggest epiphanies of your life, you clearly voted for Bush, and are immune to evolution. Make Yr Life is undoubtedly the record that will facilely evolve the music world as we know it (Mothership not included.)

and, I can't believe it took me this long to get this one, Tete's A la faveur de l'automne. (How the fuck do you do accents on this thing???) (Le site est tout en francais, but if you click on the "M" circle you can figure out how to navigate around) L. turned me on to Tete and I've been profoundly grateful ever since. There's a lot of Quebecois slang and dialect, so I really have no idea what the heck he's saying, but I adore him anyway. Of course it reminds me of my month in France, but wierdly enough it brings up lots of food memories. Freshly baked batardes, and tartes aux fraises (oh sacred heart of jesus those are wonderful. L., do me a favor, run out and eat one of these for me--they have them in Austria I guess--so I can at least enjoy it vicariously), orangina, proper quiches, Swiss chocolate, drinking expressos at Le Cafe d'horloge, mmm...

I can't figure out if all this food nostalgia is in anticipation of Thanksgiving, or a result of the fact that my meal plan ran out and I've been living off pop-tarts and oatmeal for the last week or so.

Anyway, yeah, so I have one more paper to write for tomorrow, and then it's off to Suburban Wasteland for a few days decent food and subconcious family tensions. Hope you have a good Thanksgiving L.! Pig out on some good European food and Austrian beer. I'll probably write you while I'm home.