viscous.
i still have a (rather unusual, for me, as i don't even normally like pancakes) strong craving for pancakes. i have a couple errands to do this afternoon, but i don't have another exam until wednesday morning. i ought to catch up on my city roaming and squirrelspying. i have some calls to make, which i dread like always.
so i need to traipse to the squill pamela's and obtain some afternoon breakfast. i'm way too excited about this.
i wonder why the desire is so strong. like i said, i don't even eat pancakes. strange.
/
rob tells me they're playing john cassavetes movies this week at cmu, and troma ones too (strange juxtaposition there). and there's a russian film or two playing downtown at the end of the week, according to various more intheknow informants on my friends list (danke).
i'm trying to pretend i don't care that i won't be here for the film festival in may, nor for the free sonic youth performance this summer. how? by looping the sonic youth 1988 peel sessions, that's how.
(the cover of "victoria" is raucous fun.)
/
i snapped last night at my family on the phone. i need to write them a letter to apologize. it's difficult to explain how badly i'm taking this transitioning thing, i'm sure you know. i wish i didn't have to leave. i have never wanted to stay here so, never before no. i figured out one irony last night, with justin, about these circumstances...
to make me feel better my dad quietly sent along to me a picture of clint eastwood in an apple (joke?) ad. i never did tell you, journal, about the audrey hepburn dislike nuance relief bit. i can just mark that i didn't, here...
/
if i spend this summer trapped in a white house i'm going to go crazy, i know it. must take pains to prevent.
/
the nostalgia and miss washed over me at like 5 this morning, reading over old letters from high school friends. i forget or push aside most of the time, how big some touching can be. i wish i could find the way back to girls and boys with sincerity.
i'd like to write again. and still be able to say in clearspeak, to old friends, "i miss you" and "please" and "thank you." and an "are you okay" that is precisely what it says...
the immediate thing i told justin following the first "i love you" was that i'd never met anyone with his heart so securely stitched on his sleeve. i never forget that, about you you know. thank you for never even considering manipulated, modulated gestures and words. it is inspiration.
/
after my final today, i had a chance to learn something, or at least be reminded. when a stranger, a man approaches you and calls you "kitten," you should get the hell away from him. in most circumstances.
/
i was telling justin how the one thing that i kind of wish for that could be linked to being a curvy girl is to look really neat in menswear. i'm not sure he understood what i was rambling about. like, those photos of colette you know. drag is most alluring when it highlights that yes, you're very much a girl in boy's clothing (or vice versa). and i know a girl isn't just defined by having a protruding chest and assertive hipbones, duh, but. there's also that photo shoot with the woman, with a wig cigar drawn in facial hair and a suit and tie...and one breast bared, very curvy and very HA! to you gender expectations etc. and julia. when she did the "girl wearing men's shaving cream and holding a razor in her hand" series. it works so well 'cause there's still stereotypical femininity involved. when you're boyish looking to begin with, wearing a suit doesn't elicit a "wow, that's hot!" (hee) response so much as, "so, is that a boy or a girl? i can't tell at all." hmm. this doesn't sound right, i'm not explaining properly. when i wear a tuxedo it just looks too accidental, botched. not sharply done at all.
/
all this lamenting the way the internet has changed in tone and composition or whatever. but i think to myself, it could become all spam and porn/spyware, and i'd still be sunny or at least not too bitter because without the internet i wouldn't have been able to talk to bryce and then where would i be?
so i need to traipse to the squill pamela's and obtain some afternoon breakfast. i'm way too excited about this.
i wonder why the desire is so strong. like i said, i don't even eat pancakes. strange.
/
rob tells me they're playing john cassavetes movies this week at cmu, and troma ones too (strange juxtaposition there). and there's a russian film or two playing downtown at the end of the week, according to various more intheknow informants on my friends list (danke).
i'm trying to pretend i don't care that i won't be here for the film festival in may, nor for the free sonic youth performance this summer. how? by looping the sonic youth 1988 peel sessions, that's how.
(the cover of "victoria" is raucous fun.)
/
i snapped last night at my family on the phone. i need to write them a letter to apologize. it's difficult to explain how badly i'm taking this transitioning thing, i'm sure you know. i wish i didn't have to leave. i have never wanted to stay here so, never before no. i figured out one irony last night, with justin, about these circumstances...
to make me feel better my dad quietly sent along to me a picture of clint eastwood in an apple (joke?) ad. i never did tell you, journal, about the audrey hepburn dislike nuance relief bit. i can just mark that i didn't, here...
/
if i spend this summer trapped in a white house i'm going to go crazy, i know it. must take pains to prevent.
/
the nostalgia and miss washed over me at like 5 this morning, reading over old letters from high school friends. i forget or push aside most of the time, how big some touching can be. i wish i could find the way back to girls and boys with sincerity.
i'd like to write again. and still be able to say in clearspeak, to old friends, "i miss you" and "please" and "thank you." and an "are you okay" that is precisely what it says...
the immediate thing i told justin following the first "i love you" was that i'd never met anyone with his heart so securely stitched on his sleeve. i never forget that, about you you know. thank you for never even considering manipulated, modulated gestures and words. it is inspiration.
/
after my final today, i had a chance to learn something, or at least be reminded. when a stranger, a man approaches you and calls you "kitten," you should get the hell away from him. in most circumstances.
/
i was telling justin how the one thing that i kind of wish for that could be linked to being a curvy girl is to look really neat in menswear. i'm not sure he understood what i was rambling about. like, those photos of colette you know. drag is most alluring when it highlights that yes, you're very much a girl in boy's clothing (or vice versa). and i know a girl isn't just defined by having a protruding chest and assertive hipbones, duh, but. there's also that photo shoot with the woman, with a wig cigar drawn in facial hair and a suit and tie...and one breast bared, very curvy and very HA! to you gender expectations etc. and julia. when she did the "girl wearing men's shaving cream and holding a razor in her hand" series. it works so well 'cause there's still stereotypical femininity involved. when you're boyish looking to begin with, wearing a suit doesn't elicit a "wow, that's hot!" (hee) response so much as, "so, is that a boy or a girl? i can't tell at all." hmm. this doesn't sound right, i'm not explaining properly. when i wear a tuxedo it just looks too accidental, botched. not sharply done at all.
/
all this lamenting the way the internet has changed in tone and composition or whatever. but i think to myself, it could become all spam and porn/spyware, and i'd still be sunny or at least not too bitter because without the internet i wouldn't have been able to talk to bryce and then where would i be?