GALE PERRY IS AN ELEMENTARY TEACHER. SHE ADMITS TO WEARING A LOT OF PANTS.
It's about time for the big summer letdown. My trombone playing, for instance, hasn't exactly grown by leaps and bounds, and I don't have a huge sheaf of poems ready to shop around. To tell the truth, that's the whole of my disappointment. I had been bragging about how much shedding I was going to do over the summer, and how much ass I was going to kick when I came back, but my range has only improved slightly, and I'm not the TOTAL JAZZ BEAST I want to be. I guess I don't expect anything different out of summer, but damn. Somehow I thought this would be different. I have weird little moments when I don't care, I feel in the flow of it, and nothing bothers me. Yeah, I belong in the cast of My So-Called Life. Sometimes you feel like a toaster . . . .

By the way: The. Zine. Is. Done.
Love me.