thanksgiving was fucking great. i was initially bummed because i thought nobody was coming, but then amanda said she would come & i realized that she is all i need at thanksgiving, because she’s really inspirational & important to me. & then etta revealed that she wanted to come too and the three of us made this perfect thanksgiving trifecta and it was just great. really magical in this way i can hardly describe.
& then i went to ali & colleen’s afterwards and that was fun too. i read everyone an amazing text that my sister sent me: “”i didn’t know what this song on my itunes was so i named it the dirty song by the pottymouths”-mom re: sublime’s what i got”. all the americans laughed heartily at that one but there were two rad israeli fags who didn’t catch the reference. so we all tried to sing that song for them & it was really funny listening to dignified gay people singing sublime for some very confused israeli dudes. but maybe you had to be there.
also there was a hideous hot-pink sparks-esque beverage being passed around. i drank some out of a crystal teacup because it was too hilarious not to. and now i am feeling it. blah! i could hardly sleep at all last night & today i feel really sick.
anyway, i read everyone some poems by the amazing lesbian native american poet chrystos that ali had picked out and i don’t know, it was a really fucking good thanksgiving. oh, and amanda & i saw a rainbow walking home from the mert through the graveyard. and i met a guy at the bus stop who told me all these stories about how he failed mechanic school: “i was always fallin’ asleep. the guy would be talkin’ about the crescent wrench for a whole hour! who could sit through that?”
1. immediately upon arrival had to clean up some goopy diarrhea-esque dog shit from the front step
2. it smelled awful even after i cleaned it (FUCK YOU DOGS OF LAWRENCEVILLE AND YOUR STUPID NEGLECTFUL OWNERS!!!!!!!!!!) so i dumped some baking soda on it
3. my boss’ driver, a mild-mannered middle-aged xtian lady, saw the baking soda and said, “geez! it looks like somebody spilled a bag of cocaine on your front step!”
4. while i was at lunch with nate we spotted a tough guy wearing a sleeveless neon green shirt. i said, “whoa, look at that guy!” and he totally heard me! we had a good laugh over that but i felt bad too.
5. a client, a very charming old-ish lady who’s really being put through the wringer, came to my desk and said, “can you type a letter for me?” i said sure. she said, “dear creditors: [her name] is tired of dealing with you. she has a cough, nausea, and upset stomach. please don’t bother her anymore.” she asked me to read it back and said, “better put in diarrhea, too.” then, with a flourish, she lit up a cigarette and i had to ask her politely not to smoke in the office.
6. she came back from her smoke break clutching a gigantic (like 3′ tall) teddy bear (guess where that came from). upon her request, i put it in an empty seat in the conference room, much to everyone’s delight.
7. a certain crazy store-owner whose name i will not mention was yelling, to no one in particular, “do you like baby dolls? do you like baby dolls?” i’m pretty sure she was talking to someone walking by, but the early-20’s law clerk dude answered, in the most scared and uncertain voice ever, “yes?”
so, it was a slow week at work, as my boss was at trial. luckily, one of my friends just started working here so we had lots of fun just goofing off on the clock. we came up with the idea to google “bad tattoos” and giggle at the skin carnage all over the internet.
here are the best tattoos i’ve come across in those long, lonely hours; and i humbly share them with you, dear readers.
and, the most bizarrely genius one of them all:
i want to be this person’s friend. and eat a tofu pup with them. the end.
so. it’s official. after nine years of rabid urban bicycling i’m too scared to ride my bike.
i don’t know what brought this on. nothing brought it on. everything brought it on. i haven’t ridden for nearly a week, but today i had to, because i’m working in oakland, at my stupid job that i hate that i got a year ago today & was so so happy about. there’s no reliable, convenient public transit from where i live to where i work. there is public transit but it would take roughly an hour to go about three miles. so i said fuck it. because i believe in facing my fears. in not letting fear win. i made it about 6 blocks, to 47th & butler, before a school bus came up from behind me, roaring, tons & tons & tons of indifferent metal. nothing that hasn’t happened thousands of times before.
but this time i wasn’t brave enough. so i pulled over to the side of the road. i knew i wasn’t just going to let it pass and keep on going. i pulled onto the sidewalk & stepped off, shaking. i’m not brave enough anymore.
so i walked here, to the library. up & up the hill, looking to all the pedestrians like some stupid weak girl who couldn’t make it up the hill on a bike, like i have to push it. i know i can do it, physically, but i can’t, mentally. it took every ounce of strength & composure i may have left to not just throw my fucking bike to the floor and weep, right there.
so is this it? do i give myself up to the cruel mistress of public transit? do i give up on the idea that i can get places when i want to go to them, on my schedule. do i ignore the voice inside of me saying “don’t do it, you’ll get killed” and then get killed because i want to do what i want when i want to? is that worth dying for? once i would have said, inarguably, yes. yes it is. now i’m not so certain.
& the worst part is, i don’t know when i’m being intuitive & when i’m just being crazy. when i’m saving my life vs. when i’m ruining it. they look & feel & sound the same.
this weekend was so weird and quiet and strange. spent it boyfriendless for the first time in a long time (his mom was visiting) & it was nice to have some time all to myself to explore and exist and be.
saturday was the garlickiest garlic bread ever, friends new and old, laughing until i squeaked, making a wallet (or beginning one, anyway), staying up late and falling asleep happy & content by myself in my tiny blue-green room.
on sunday i went to book ‘em before normal hours so i could get some work done for a few hours. on the ride home i decided to cut through the allegheny cemetery (blatantly ignoring the “NO BIKES” sign. yup, call the badass office and tell them to issue me a license…) (I’M BEING SARCASTIC) and it was fucking so incredibly gorgeous i thought i was gonna fall right off my bike. that place in autumn is FUCKING BEAUTIFUL! the most beautiful place in pittsburgh!
i disturbed a flock of ravens, by accident, with my pedaling & they all took off & i was surrounded by hundreds of birds in flight. it was fucking magic.
and then i made s’mores on my stovetop and then went to the laundromat. i sat on the stoop of a pizza place while my clothes were in the drier, sewing my wallet and enjoying the sun on my face. the pizza place was closed (or so i thought), making it a prime place to sit in the sun like a wayward senior citizen (or so i thought!)
but, a guy needed to get in, so i jumped up, kinda startled. when i put my left foot down, i was like “ow” and went to investigate. i saw a huge sewing needle sticking out of my shoe, so i pulled it out. i put my left foot down again and it still hurt. upon closer inspection, i’d stepped on TWO needles at once, one of which had snapped and was impaled in my shoe & was impossible to pull out with my bare hands.
so, i called pino 911 and she came with a bag full of pliers and saved the day. god, i love that woman. we took a walk and talked about life. we were hugging goodbye a few hours later & talking about making dinner. a guy wearing a stars-and-stripes jogging suit was staring at us & pino jokingly said, “what, ya wanna come to dinner too?” he yelled, “i dunno, what’s good?” “everything i make is good!” “oh yeah, like what?” “like liver and onions!” “liver and onions, huh? how do ya make that?” and he wouldn’t leave until pino explained, in detail, how to make liver & onions. i lurked in the background cuz i didn’t want to leave her alone with this insane man. finally he was satisfied and walked down the street. as he passed me he made eye contact, looking at ME like i was the crazy one, and sneered, “you can go back to your girlfriend now,” !!! what a weirdo. i texted pino about it once i got home and she replied with something like, “that’s the last time i talk to a stranger wearing gym clothes.” ha!
p.s. OMG, like, seventeen magazine is hatin’ on FTMs. you should check it out. totally fucked up & minorly surprising, as both teen people and cosmogirl! had positive articles on trannies in the past few years. oh well. write them, or not, it probably won’t make a real difference but i guess it’s good to be aware of, or something…
of me, my sister & my mom this weekend. at the warhol, duh. i’m holding a sign that says “i suck” but you can’t see it. my mom’s glasses are tilted because i accidentally knocked them off in our mad dash to fit in the photobooth before the flash went off. 
this weekend was really fun & good. sometimes i forget that my mom is actually a very fun, interesting lady. it was sunny and we did all sorts of fun things and i felt loved and appreciated, which is rare when it comes to my family.
more later, with pictures, if i feel like it.
Filed under: wingnuts
example: the following things that people googled in order to come across this page. sorry if this is dull to any of yinz, i just think it’s so fascinating and strange!
1. girls breasts without clothes
2. auto mechanic memorial tattoo (i got 3 separate hits for this!!! is this really so popular???!?)
3. indecent birthday image
4. breast tattoo gallery
5. what i did at work today
6. “i am not femme”
7. games kill the boss derailleur (!??!!?!??!!!!!!!!!!!) (for those of you who don’t know, a derailleur is a part on a bike. it changes the gears)
8. “ironically, i still love”
9. i am a young male and my boss is such an asshole i can’t take it anymore
10. “begging you for change hair on”
to those of you who are bored: you should write me a hundred-word story about why anyone would google any one of these bizarre phrases. leave it in the comments. be outrageous. i love you.
so last month ray & i took a strange midwestern roadtrip & i am finally putting some pics on the interweb.
![DSCN0840[1]](http://agingriotgrrrl.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/dscn08401.jpg?w=419&h=314 "DSCN0840[1]")
we found this hilarious bisexual porn at an I-70 porn shop (called, hilariously, “the lion’s den”) and i wanted to take pictures of us reading it everywhere, but it quickly got lost in the car & i forgot. so this is the only pic of me reading it, in a state park in ohio where we camped out.
![DSCN0849[1]](http://agingriotgrrrl.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/dscn08491.jpg?w=419&h=314 "DSCN0849[1]")
this is ray in columbus, oh. sorry i didn’t rotate it.
![DSCN0850[1]](http://agingriotgrrrl.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/dscn08501.jpg?w=419&h=314 "DSCN0850[1]")
this is also in columbus, oh, maybe a few minutes after taking the previous picture. so much kissing!
![DSCN0854[1]](http://agingriotgrrrl.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/dscn08541.jpg?w=419&h=314 "DSCN0854[1]")
this is me in indianapolis, in, in relentless search of vegetarian food. it’s hard to find in indiana (a state that neither of us liked)
![DSCN0892[1]](http://agingriotgrrrl.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/dscn08921.jpg?w=419&h=314 "DSCN0892[1]")
yo, did you know that the (AMAZING) community center in urbana, which hosts its local prison book program, which of course we visited because we’re giant dorks, has a freaking COSTUME ROOM?!!? omg! it is so much more fun packing books whilst wearing a bridal veil & sequinned wrap, and when your boyfriend looks like a big gay cowboy wearing sparkly clip-on earings. hurrah!
not pictured:
*wingnuts in indianapolis
*totally cute boy we became friends with at an ice cream shop in columbus
*amazing thrift scores at ohio thrift (the boardgame girl talk, a perfect skirt, a baseball hat for elmer’s glue, rubber stamps of all the bones in a skeleton, more…)
*delicious vegetarian food
*endless sweet people
*bumping into my old housemate caroline nappo, who i haven’t seen in 7 years
etc, etc, etc. i really want to travel more now. my itchy traveling foot needs some calomine.
IN UNRELATED NEWS:
*i’m at the lawrenceville library & it’s official, it’s closing next summer. : ( : ( : ( the guy at the desk told me so. he said, “but maybe we can do something about it. there ain’t no use crying over spilled milk–once it’s actually spilled, then we’ll cry” and it was oddly touching.
and,
*my mom is in a commercial! she’s the blonde woman wearing glasses, sniffing some tomatoes & looking mildly crazed. ha ha ha. i just talked about it with mumzy last night & apparently the commercial was directed by morgan spurlock of “super size me” fame. also, the woman at the very end of the commercial, looking skeptical, is the new principal of my old high school. who knew? certainly not me.
*the cold
*endlessly getting soaked
*unsafely riding my bike without my glasses because they’re so covered in droplets as to be un-useable
*cold toilet seats
*spending all my money on heating billz yet still being cold all the fucking time.
yet, it’s here. it’s SEPTEMBER. boo! well, i haven’t turned on my furnace yet and i’d like to wait at least another month. i turned it on halfway through october last year but that’s only because i got sick.
travelling last week has made me want to go everywhere. i’ve got a few schemes hatching, but realistically, they probably won’t go anywhere. i want to go places.
got a letter from prison from a felon whom i am close with–a dude from a wealthy supportive family. he traveled the world on his parents’ dime before he was locked up. now he’s in prison & has been for years, for crimes that were 100% his choice to commit–not things he was forced into, as so many people behind bars are. and when he sends me a letter complaining about how he’s stuck in america forever because he’s a felon & most countries don’t allow amerikan felons to visit, i just get angry. i’m not behind bars but i’m not free either. none of us are. i’ve never really left amerika and i hardly even leave pittsburgh and obviously i am not gonna send a letter into prison about how oppressed and un-free i am but i don’t know, it just really pissed me off.
i heard my boss talking shit on me this morning so now i’m on strike. not officially, of course, just in a passive-aggressive way, because as tempting as it was to charge in and yell, “oh yeah? well FUCK YOU” and storm out, i can’t do that.
so i’m still here. thinking about disgusting orange jell-o desserts, about portland oregon, about zines, about people i know who used to be exciting and who are now boring. i’m taking a slide into the boring side of life, myself, and am shocked at how…pleasant it is. WTF? i don’t want to lose my grip on the world or on life. but i am tired of fighting, at the same time. pretty much everyone i know who has gotten boring is just tired of fighting. and i can hardly blame them, even though i miss their old selves.
i really really want to finish the first draft of my nov before the year is up. i need to write about 40 more pages. i’m not inspired at all. but i’ve decided to sit down with it an hour per day, monday through friday. it’s like homework. i was never any good at doing homework. still, it needs to be done. i have things to say that need to get out there & it’s not gonna happen unless i get some real work done. do i have anything else to say? i started this novel in the summer of 2006, that sweaty hopeless summer in philly. it was four pages, written mainly to piss off my girlfriend-at-the-time (it was a cautionary tale about an out-of-control compost pile!) and now it’s about 180 pages. and i just have to keep on going. finishing things is hard, but if i don’t finish then all this work will have been for nothing. i’m tired of that.
hello. i’ve had a lot to say but not a lot of time or internet access to write it in. i went on a strange midwestern roadtrip two weeks ago & then last week was the g-20 summit in pittsburgh. i didn’t actively protest but i did attend some protests, just to witness this strange moment in pgh history. it was nice to see people out and about; nice to see some new blood; nice to see some old friends.
it wasn’t nice to see the former love of my life running towards the riot cops looking totally crazed. realizing that she was here, in pittsburgh, and didn’t even try to say hi. i don’t know if she saw me, but it was heartbreaking. utterly heartbreaking, but i won’t bore you with the particulars. at least i could comfort myself with the fact that her hair looks completely and genuinely horrible. small comfort, but sometimes it helps.
i’m in the empty office. i want to be at home writing for my book or my zine. but i’m here because our particular corner of the country is experiencing crazy-high winds and the siding blew off my office. well, half of it did, and the other half is flapping in the breeze. i’m waiting for my boss’ handyman to come in. i’m waiting for a lot of things.
