not getting it: Pride Day edition

Overheard at the drag stage:
"No, but she's really a woman! ...I think."

Pride this year consisted of a lot of wandering around with spook, eating street food (poutine! brisket sandwiches! shwarma! soft-serve ice cream!), looking at the shiny people and all the tiny dogs and occasionally griping about the inaccessibility of any of the burlesque we wanted to watch. Alas, we both had the poor fortune to be working through the Skin Tight Outta Sight show.

In what might reasonably be described as a miracle, we found a hat at a street vendor that fit me, so I now have some way to shield my eyes from the sun. Hooray! My weirdly teeny skull is an ongoing challenge, so this pleases me more than it maybe should.

I have not managed to write about my Ottawa visit, partly because it's hard to summarize. A weekend spent shrieking and laughing is hard to explain if you weren't there. Suffice it to say that a fabulous time was had, and I have so much music now I'm not sure what to do with myself--an embarrassment of riches.