Doing our show The Voodoo Sisters Present: Between Dimensions at the Bowery Poetry Club was so much fun yesterday! I can't wait to see the video.

We packed an insane amount of entertainment into an hour and a half, and it all went off without a hitch thanks to the consummate professionals who performed, and thanks to Mistress B who emceed and kept things moving. She even took one for the team and played a ditty from West Side Story on the trombone.

We're hoping that, for the next one, we can have a time slot that is more amenable to the gothic nature of our entertainment, as only the most hardened and hardy dark souls can watch a comedy dominatrix blow up a balloon with her boob and then twist it into a gigantic penis--at five o'clock on a Sunday evening.

We reconnected with old friends and even made some new ones, with new plans to spread the gothitude to the younger generation. There was talk of a goth prom!

I thought I was going to have to step on Melissa's foot to keep her from sailing off into the stratosphere from pure joy when the folks from New Goth City came over to talk to us. As a perky goth, Melissa can easily pass for one of those well-adjusted people. Not everyone can effortlessly keep up the concentrated aura of Eeyore gloom the way I can. You have to look really hard to see that Lissa is completely skewed. If you have any doubt that she's a goth, you've never attended one of her Pilates classes.

We made some on-the-spot art as we improvised a collaborative veil dance to Heidi and Rolando's song.

Jackie debuted some work which touched people's minds and hearts, which bled across the boundaries of spoken word and music.

Autumn did her contortionist act on the bar.

Thaddeus represented the fetish goths.

Darshan poured herself onto the stage like a lick of chestnut flame.

Boni Joi read the doll mafia poem, which is so concentrated in its imagery that it always reminds me of a mosaic, the shards of words lying jagged and bright next to each other to produce a shimmering whole.

And the Voodoo Sisters got to perform our death-defying Kawaii no Cane number. A cane routine in a small space is always a little dangerous. It's the threat of either performer or audience dismemberment by cane that adds the gothic spice to the enterprise.

In every pic and vid I look about four feet tall standing next to Melissa, and the diva in me could never stand for looking like someone else's mini me...unless that someone was smokin' hot.

We bill ourselves as the Mutt and Jeff of bellydance. I think Lissa's going to have to start dancing in four-inch heels, to exaggerate the lopsided effect of our height difference. Non-Euclidean geometrical effects are so very Lovecraftian.