road full of promise, head full of doubt.

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on thursday, i had a really fucking good day, light-hearted at work, sweet people left & right, and a really meaningful convo with a young trans client that i think changed both of our lives a little bit. and after that, i ran home and packed and headed out to philly in a car full of queers. i was wearing my super fun adventure hat that i liberated from target last weekend. it’s a tiny cowboy hat that sits on a headband, cocked at an unlikely angle. every day that i’ve worn it has been fun! and this was no exception. at a rest stop in nowheresville PA a suuuuper gay employee chirped, “well aren’t you cute! i love that hat!” and it made my night.

friday i rode bikes around philly with steph & danny. we ate the most delicious sweet potato fries and read in the warm comfort of giovanni’s room, my fave queer bookstore in america, i think. maybe the only one i’ve ever been to that’s still standing? i love that fucking place. and it was so cozy, reading books with two good friends, so far away from home. the day was bright and sunny and i was kinda sad because philly brings up sad things for me, but we laughed and rode around the schuykill river, on the trail, and it was super good. that night i got real drunk and ate some delicious mexican food at carey’s mom’s house, i told stories and worked shit out with someone i love. and then stayed up until 5am dancing and talking with rob & carey. i love my philly friends, we’ve been through so much together and they really feel like my family.

saturday i puked. all day. i forget i can’t drink like i used to. i felt better around 7pm and we all went out again around 10. i didn’t drink, but i did have a random man pet my red fake fur jacket and yell, “man, i want to cover my whole house with this shit! it’s like the 70’s all over again!” he also lifted his shirt to reveal his stomach tattoo that said, “BEST FUCK EVER.” i was like, “ooo….kay.” i just didn’t even know what to do, because he wasn’t even being creepy up until that point.

on sunday we went home, but not before making a brief appearance at the philly zine fest. steph, danny & i pranced from the car to the rotunda singing “party in the USA” by miley cyrus at the top of our lungs. while we were doing this, i found a checkbook smeared with blood, with a cryptic phrase written on the back (which i’ve already forgotten.) i hugged j.bee and sari and talked to them for like 5 minutes each before i hustled myself back into the car for the long drive home. i came home to peace & quiet & it was so nice. i realized that this is the first time i’ve left town in nearly 2 years where i haven’t been worrying the whole time that my partner is cheating on me & i’m gonna come home to a shitshow. it is SO NICE to just come home to exactly what i expected. it is SO NICE to not have to worry about that.

yesterday i woke up to a text from my mother saying my dad’s dead best friend had come to her in a dream and said, “someone is trying to kill you.” it startled her awake. my mom, like me, is slightly psychic–not enough to predict things with any regularity, but enough to feel kinda crazed. yesterday i shared a meaningful handshake with a heartbroken stranger and got interviewed by a canadian journalist about riot grrrl (!!).

today is still young. something happened at work that had me crying in the bathroom at 9am about the unfairness of the fucking world. and now it’s my lunch break. the urge to write is stronger than the urge to eat, sometimes.

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