Novy’s got a sledgehammer. I’ve got a date with Elvis.

Hosted, as always, by the fabulous Thessaly “The UkuLady” Lerner!

www.myspace.com/TheUkulady
(Audio warning – the songs are hysterical, but you’ll wanna put your headphones on…)

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It’s been a strange, sad, joyful year for me, and while some things, I hope never to repeat, other things (one thing in particular) made it one of the best years of my life.

In March, NovySan and I went to London and Stratford-Upon-Avon, where we visited old friends, met new friends, saw F. Murray Abraham in The Merchant of Venice and Ian McKellen in King Lear, drank at the Dirty Duck, ate at Lee Ho Fook’s, wandered Hyde Park, visited the Tower, Tower Bridge and the Temple, and picked up a signed copy of Donald Rumbelow’s Jack the Ripper book at the end of his Jack the Ripper tour. I could go on for days about this trip. Definitely one of the high points.

And then, in April, I got sick. High fever, sore throat, hacking cough… Your basic horrible plague. And I stayed sick for about six weeks, through three rounds of antibiotics, chest x-rays, prescription inhalers… I think it’s the sickest I’ve ever been, and I very much hope that it’s the sickest I ever am.

July, though! Oh, July made the entire year worth it. On July 7, NovySan and I got married. I knew the day I met him that I wanted him in my life. It didn’t take me much longer to know I wanted him in my life for the rest of my life. I love you, baby.

In August, Lindsay Holichek died, of undiagnosed, and apparently asymptomatic, ovarian cancer. I always thought of Lindsay as my parents’ friend, but she was mine, too. She called herself my surrogate mother – I was more her surrogate daughter. Just a few weeks before she died, I was looking at one of the (many) books she’d given me and thinking that I should write to her. I didn’t, and of course it’s too late now. It wasn’t until after she died that I realized how strongly she’d influenced me. She was my mentor before I understood what that meant. She gave me my first copy of Tatterhood and Other Tales, which nurtured my love of fantastic literature and helped spark my feminism. (There’s a reason it’s the first book I ever gave Novy’s daughter.) She loved food and music and she had a beautiful mind and an amazing talent for gift-giving. She always chose just the right thing. It’s something I’ve tried to emulate (with, I flatter myself, some small degree of success). I’ll miss her, but as my mother (ever wise) said, Lindsay enjoyed her life, and she died quickly, painlessly, and doing something she loved. It’s a sad thing, but not a tragedy.

The end of August brought Burning Man. Our third year, and the first we’ve camped with other people. It was a good year. The early Burn didn’t affect us – I called the event post-Paul Addis “Christmas in Whoville.” I loved the wind and the dust. Something about that harsh environment speaks to me, at least one week out of the year. (Of course, I know that without Novy’s engineering skills, I’d be a miserable huddled wreck underneath someone’s car, instead of laughing at the storms from the safety of our shade structure). The Temple Burn was magical for me – life-changing, I think. There are things I could complain about, but I won’t. I think the beauty of the event is that almost everyone can find an experience there that’s right for them, and I don’t choose to have an experience in which the crowds and the bad behavior overwhelm the generosity, artistic expression and communal feeling I’m there for. I don’t know that I’ll want to keep going every year, but I cherish the years I have been.

On November 30, my friend Shawn died. I’ve written about this before. Novy and I went to Portland in December for his memorial – met his friend Linda and his partner John. I’m glad we went. Meeting them, and talking to them, helped answer some questions for me, though it raised new ones, as well. There’s so much about his death that I still don’t understand, and of course he’s not here for me to ask. This was one of the low points. Shawn suffered terribly – not just at the end, but his entire life. So many people loved him, but it wasn’t enough. He’d been so damaged, I don’t know what any of us could have done to save him.

And that brings us, roughly, to the turn of the year, which Novy and I spent with Amara and friends. I’ve got more to say about 2008, but I’ll leave it now with a wish, a hope, a prayer – I’m almost afraid to call it a certainty – that this is going to be a very good year.

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Tonight’s PonyShow‘s was all about raising money for Hillary’s campaign. We had Hillary volunteers, Hillary’s state field director, Hillary buttons and signs and balloons. I danced to Natacha Atlas’s cover of “It’s a Man’s World,” and NovySan offered to stalk the candidate. All in all, a good night.

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I danced to “Rio” tonight, in honor of the 80s Night theme at the UkuLady‘s Pony Show. (Every Wednesday night, at the Elephant Asylum in Hollywood. It’s not 80s Night every Wednesday, though. Next week, it’s Pioneers and Cowboys. I don’t think there will be any Duran Duran, but I am wondering if I can find an Arabic cover of “Rawhide.”)

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