The Southern Girls Convention: A Report

Louisville, KY (Associated Poets):

fter a five hour drive, we found the BRYCCC House and the convention. After registering and listening to a band for a little while, it was decided that we were in need of food stuffs other than the junk food we had been munching on the way down. We left the building and headed up the street, where we were immediately offered religious materials by a young man wearing a name brand shirt of some fashion. He told us that a little truth wouldn't hurt us. Since the truth was that wew were indeed very hungry, and he was indeed very annoying, we told him individualy that we didn't want to read about the Lord. He then informed us that "Oh, you'd better do what your friends tell you." He was later spotted trying to give a young woman with blue hair and multiple tatoos the same literature. I failed to mention that, if I wanted to hear all about The Lord, I could just wait until The Jehova's Witnesses conviently came to my home, which they do without fail whether I want them to or not.

The Good Old Boys who own the antique shop across the street from

My inner freak is nourished.

the convention watch us for most of the day. They seem to think that watching hippies and punks eat lunch is a good use of their time, or maybe there is something inherent in the way that we are eating that makes us seem threatening. We wave and blow them kisses. I wish I had a camera, as the picture of two middle-aged white men standing under a sign that said "Antiques" is just too good to pass up.

I see an article in the Courier-Journal by someone named Butch John.

Some young Female Yuppies walk through our gathering on the sidewalk carrying a 4-foot-high inflatable penis. They go into the bar a couple of doors over, an uninteresting meat-marketish place called "Cahoots." Always up for giving the established a surprise, we cheer loudly as the penis is tossed into the air.

Saturday night, we have a group floss with a really cool woman who is sharing our space. She is a school teacher from a Jewish religious school in California who talks about how she addresses gender differences in her classroom.

I find myself looking at people. I am surrounded by freaks with a myriad of piercings, tatoos, shaved heads, and modes of dress. We play Scrabble together. My inner freak is nourished.

The Urbana Coalition includes Sehvilla, Suzzanne, Karina, Sara, myself. Austin from Minneapolis came with us. I find right away that this is a group I could go a lot more places with.

Sunday afternoon we drive home. Austin and Suzzanne continue to drive east with some people and we come back to Illinios. We drive through Southern Indiana on the back roads, as I want to avoid sitting on the interstate on a 95F day in a car with no air conditioning. Indiana is the interstate parking lot capital of the world, after all, which is annoying at best when you're tyring to get somewhere.