Malinda Lo

Ah, summer. The joys of three months with no teacher supervision! Free time to wander around the neighborhood, gossiping with friends, hanging out at the pool …

Oh, who am I kidding? When I was in high school, I had to work every summer. My jobs included working at the university’s microbiology lab in an ill-managed “internship” involving the injection of frogs with DNA, working in the customer service department of Best Products (a poor man’s Best Buy, now since closed), and doing telephone surveys on water conservation for the city of Boulder (once someone threatened the call the police on us, and I told them, “We are the police!”).

Nevertheless, I did not give up on the concept of “summer.” I’d heard/seen/read about the idea for years, so when I finally had the means (e.g., when I was an adult with a job), I took full advantage of summer vacation. I’ve managed to get myself into some fun adventures in Beijing (Chinese language program), the U.K. (three-week road trip), Los Angeles (“researching” Hollywood TV production), and, most recently, Hawaii (investigating shave ice stands). But for me, the ultimate summer road trip vacation happened back in the summer of 2003 when a friend and I drove from San Francisco to Michigan.

Why would we do that? Well, we were on our way to the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival. And no, that’s not a typo — Womyn with a Y indicated that we were on our way to one of the last vestiges of 1970s lesbian feminism, a Land (with a capital L) of vegetarians, folk musicians and luxury camping. Along the way we saw a number of roadside attractions found only in America: nuclear reactors, gambling dens, the Spam Museum, the Corn Palace, and a giant drug store (Wall Drug) with a fake Mount Rushmore. Don’t believe me? Here’s some photographic evidence:

Apparently I find these nuclear reactors very perplexing

At Wall Drug, where you can see the mini Mount Rushmore in the background

Spam products from South Korea, courtesy of the Spam Museum

The Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival itself was an experience that must be lived to be believed. Unfortunately, due to time and space limitations (and a vow of secrecy) I cannot reveal more. But I will leave you with this thought: I am so excited to celebrate the launch of Sarah Ockler’s Twenty Boy Summer! Like Jon Skovron said, I have never kissed twenty boys in one summer, either. But Michigan, with all those Womyn, certainly provided an opportunity to kiss twenty girls.

This post also appears at Word Ninjas, Ink.