The best part about having recurring nightmares about someone fucking with my bike is that I wake up and it was a dream. The worst part is exploring the myriad ways that my dream self can experience devastation and anger. It's different every time.

How could you not LOVE THIS?!?!

"If the demand for theory was, in Iris Murdoch's words, a cry for a house that could provide shelter from empiricism, it was also a political demand born of the realization that theories are never politically innocent. They express political prejudices and reproduce them, even when they deny it. To reveal those prejudices in order to neutralize them was the great ambition of the Frankfurt school, of the Barthes who unmasked 'mythologies' with such sardonic glee, and of the feminist critics and historians who refused to go on being hidden from history."

-- David Macey, from The Penguin dictionary of critical theory. 

last night i dreamt that I fell in love.

that moment when you realize you're $1 short for bus fair tomorrow morning and it's too cold to go out to an atm, so you just hope it'll work out.

(it worked out! GOTTA KEEP POSI KEEP POSI KEEP POSI! gotta write a song called 'postmodern pot party'! Gotta apply for jobs and shit that makes me feel like I can drop out of school if I wanna!)

goodbye 2012

I've spent the last few months hating on this year, wishing it were over. I'm glad it's over, and I'm glad it happened. This year was hard, but every year is hard. This was the first year that passed without heartbreak. It was a year of heavy introspection and personal shit. It was the first year that I felt adult. It was a year of feeling lonely and disconnected, of feeling like I was on the other side of something. This year, I applied to grad school, was accepted and moved to Portland to attend school. I traveled by myself through Central America. I made out with one person. I cooked at Queer Rock Camp and played in a band at Queer Adult Rock Camp. I've felt ecstatically happy and horrendously sad. This past year began on a good note and ended on a good note, though the last six months have been challenging and miserable.

This coming year, I hope to make out with more than one person, to graduate or drop out, to go somewhere warm and to be somewhat positive.

some days are like today, when you want to be by yourself. some days are like today, when you want make the right lists. some days are like today, when you want to forget your age.

christmas sucks

just some more thinking about myself

I've never dropped out of school. When I graduated highschool, I felt as if I had ripped the possibility of true rebellion from my sense of self. I didn't feel the same way about college, not really.

I've always thought of myself as sentimental. I like movies where people fall in love. I like books where the protagonist has a charming way of looking at the world. I love a ballad.

I know that I'm a bit of an idiot sometimes, that I get shy, that conflict totally freaks me out. I know that I like having fun in my way, that I like spending time by myself.


These are some things that feel really important this morning. They are things that don't feel very solid right now, truths that I'm calling into question, pieces of my identity that feel shiftier than normal.

New York on friday, thank god. I'm exhausted and my eyes and hips ache, but not in a sexy way, in a rickety old age sort of way.

my birthday

Years are a funny thing-- they throw up such scraggly fences in your memory. Everything bleeds together anyway, but I don't know how it all slips away like this. Nothing that I remember seems so long ago, and I have no fucking idea how I've lived on the west coast for so long. Someone get me home!!

On my birthday, which was yesterday, I danced a little bit, I talked a lot of shit, I drank some drinks and I rolled my eyes. Doesn't seem that different, but it also really does.

i am reading at the iprc on friday.