I could get used to this kinda Sunday
After two weekends in a row of unprecedented amounts of social activity (seriously, I went out Thursday, Friday, and Saturday each of the past two weeks!), I spent today just chilling by myself and enjoying my own company.
I went on a very long wander through the flea market part of Eastern Market, looking at all the beautiful and interesting jewelry and art and furniture on display. One stall which I've never seen before had trays of metal movable type, from pre-digital era newspaper printing, as well as a tin full of game dice and a bowl of old, rusty, interesting keys.
Next I wandered into Capitol Hill Books, a tiny used book store with books packed three-deep into stacks on and around bookshelves pretty much to the ceiling. I'd planned on wandering through and enjoying the atmosphere without buying anything, but... well, come on, that wasn't really a realistic plan, was it? For about $30, I ended up with:
The Mayor of Castro Street: The Life and Times of Harvey Milk, Randy Shilts
A Room of One's Own, Virginia Woolf
Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, Jeanette Winterson
The Well of Loneliness, Radclyffe Hall
The Case of the Good-For-Nothing Girlfriend, Mabel Maney
The first four are all books I'd more-or-less been intending on reading in some way or another. The last is apparently a lesbian pulp novel satire of the Nancy Drew/Hardy Boy style - it's "A Nancy Clue Mystery." How could I resist?
I then headed home by way of the CVS, where I printed out a couple of photos. Once home, I put the photos in the frames I painted black two weekends ago, and then finally (FINALLY) hung them and other things in my room. Previously I'd only had my bulletin board and my gender subversion poster up; now I also have my map, my photos, my Takarazuka postcards, my old license plate, and my paper fans from Japan up. My shoebox is now MUCH cheerier!
I went on a very long wander through the flea market part of Eastern Market, looking at all the beautiful and interesting jewelry and art and furniture on display. One stall which I've never seen before had trays of metal movable type, from pre-digital era newspaper printing, as well as a tin full of game dice and a bowl of old, rusty, interesting keys.
Next I wandered into Capitol Hill Books, a tiny used book store with books packed three-deep into stacks on and around bookshelves pretty much to the ceiling. I'd planned on wandering through and enjoying the atmosphere without buying anything, but... well, come on, that wasn't really a realistic plan, was it? For about $30, I ended up with:
The Mayor of Castro Street: The Life and Times of Harvey Milk, Randy Shilts
A Room of One's Own, Virginia Woolf
Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, Jeanette Winterson
The Well of Loneliness, Radclyffe Hall
The Case of the Good-For-Nothing Girlfriend, Mabel Maney
The first four are all books I'd more-or-less been intending on reading in some way or another. The last is apparently a lesbian pulp novel satire of the Nancy Drew/Hardy Boy style - it's "A Nancy Clue Mystery." How could I resist?
I then headed home by way of the CVS, where I printed out a couple of photos. Once home, I put the photos in the frames I painted black two weekends ago, and then finally (FINALLY) hung them and other things in my room. Previously I'd only had my bulletin board and my gender subversion poster up; now I also have my map, my photos, my Takarazuka postcards, my old license plate, and my paper fans from Japan up. My shoebox is now MUCH cheerier!