"Colder Weather" by Zac Brown Band? New favorite song. I want to tattoo the melody to the insides of my veins.
Life today. Midterms are almost over (yey), but i have bio tomorow (poop).
Rehearsal happened today, which was nice, we ran the whole play, which was a first, and people are staaaaarting to get offbook but not really, and... I'm stressed that it might not go over as well as it should.
A local writing conference asked me and a few friends to host their open mic this march. So that's cool.
*hits replay on Colder Weather*
My brain is filled with unthinkable thoughts. The kind that you think and can't unthink, the kind that you want to erase but know you can't. Thoughts like "what if I'm not a girl?" thoughts like "I want to hook up with her so bad." Thoughts like being in love. Thoughts like nicotine and parties and busy lives and buzzing unthink unthink unthink.
Curl up and read the Sunata story with tea, shower and play music, write letters to friends and watch porn.
yesterday was a day for feelings-processing, which sucked chassidic rabbi balls.
Beginning with my gross overanalysis of The Chelsea Situation (summary: i'm hanging out with a girl tomorrow who I've crushed on forever, will shenanagins ensue?), leading to my overall desperate wondering of Is My Relationship With Emily Worth It? Would I give up a potential tomorrow for a thing today or a thing today for a potential tomorrow.
so my genderfuck party yesterday with katie was a smashing success. we took a very lot of pictures that exist on the photobuckets, i'll link folks who're interested.
So my friend Katie (translady, mtf) is in my bathroom transformifying into the beautiful lady she is. My house is the only place she can dress as herself, which makes a really interesting situation- her clothes live in the closet in my guestroom, and my parents are annoyed at the space it takes up but try their level bests to be supportive- they know she has nowhere else to go and understand how hard it is for her.
I love my parents. If anybody has trans-unaccepting parents, I feel like I should trade you. You deserve them; I don't need my life to be this easy.
I'm getting a tattoo tomorrow.
A hebrew word, "emet," it means "truth" and of course it will be written in hebrew. Right below my left collarbone.
I'm very excited. Adam and I are going together. 0.o
What else? ...i feel out of the habit of writing about my current life because i've been only posting that long-ass minnesotans story.
Right now as per always life is just school and work. midterms are coming up this week, so that's an added stress. My sister's packing up to go back to college tomorrow.
(This is dedicated to MacAvity, who really wanted to know what happened next.)
Now, where was I?
Oooh, right, the story's over.
I thought that it was over, like really over. I knew her last name but not how to spell it. I had Boi Dyke's phone number but not hers. (How, you ask, did Emily give Boi Dyke my phone number that night? I guess I was confused. It was like 6 months ago!)
Two days later, she friended me on facebook.
Six days later, we were having hours-long skype conversations.
((I've done so much math homework today that this installment might be entirely incoherent. I'll do my best.))
Now, where were we?
Oh, yeah. Kissing. Did I mention she was a great kiss- ooh, we're past that part? My bad.
Riiiight. Boi Dyke's second phone call.
(I didn't realize, originally, how damn long this story was. Bear with me. I'm glad folks are enjoying it xDD)
Now, where was I?
(This installment of The History of Hilde's Sluttyness is dedicated to Punkish Insanity, who appreciated my first post. ^^)
Now, where were we? Ah, yes, reading the poem. So I finish the piece to a full chorus of "Awww"s, which was fun. It's fun to see an entire room full of people smiling. Beau Sia, the host, pounced on me and desperately tried to get me to confess who it was, and then the vote was held and of course I lost, so I went back to my seat next to (of course) Tiny Boi Dyke. Who hugged me as I blushed.
It's time to tell this story.
This summer, I went to Brave New Voices, the national youth poetry slam in Los Angeles, for 5 days. It was an amazing experience- 500 youth poets who wanted to change the world through their art, so much poetry, so much love, stories being shared and a freestyle cypher going on everywhere that there wasn't a spontaneous open mic or a game of poetry tag...
But, I am not here to talk about the poetry. As it often happens, I was looking at... the ladies.
2 poems from an androgynous pen:
They didn't take pictures of me
but they listened
gathered around the machines like
people of legend around their town's only pianist.
My dad's handwriting in the baby book:
"Both midwives- Edie and June- predicted a boy
from the sound of the heartbeat."
In an old photo album, today,
I found a yellow, ragged-edged page
with a line down the center.
The left side says:
but i can do it.
EDIT: fixed the pain, did some research to avoid damaging myself. it's not hard to wear for the hour and a half of practice run time, so i think i've got it figured out. this isn't really a long-term or every day thing, it's just something i want to be able to do. because playing with gender is important to me. it's a big spectrum and i want to take advantage of it.
...in love with genderfork.com.
...stressed about Dog Sees God
...in love with a minnesotan
...angry that america sees it necessary to increase its weapons arsenal because another country is. Whatever happened to not repeating the cold war and/or lowering deficit spending?
...putting off my calc homework
...over-caffinated and under-nicotined
...planning on hitting up the pharmacy for some proper binding materials
...always inspired when people come out to me
...not wearing underwear.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love slam? Not just for the art itself, not just for the writing and performing, but because slam days are invariably excellent days.
Yesterday the slam I co-started had its first day in our new venue (we moved from Borders to a Drama League. meaning now we have privacy) and had a chill open mic and literally the best slam we've had.