Monthly Archives: September 2012

i was gonna write this for my zine but fuck it, it goes here. this way you can see the colors.

Standard

sometimes i am just shocked by the beauty of this place. like, i can’t even believe that i get to live here. (ok, this was taken at the beach in marin county and obvi i don’t live there. but you know what i mean) it still feels, in some ways, like i’m on vacation, that this isn’t really my life, like my life is elsewhere and i will return to it. not that i’m living it now. but in other ways this feels like of course, of course it’s my life, it’s actually what i have been waiting for and everything else was just leading up to it.

i feel a little bit like i did when i was 19 and first moving to philly, except the exact opposite. some things were parallel: big life change, new city, big city, out of my element. but back then i was traumatized and scabby and utterly brimming with self-hatred, which was not helped at all by the mean snotty punx i was surrounded by. but now i am older and i’ve figured things out. now, when confronted with this bevy of things i don’t know, instead of feeling like, “holy shit i am so fucking stupid how do i not know all these things?” i am like, “cool, there is so much to learn! and i also have so much to teach people about other shit THEY don’t know about!” and it’s so good to feel that way. SO. FUCKING. GOOD. who would have thought that i’d ever get here?

my tarot readings that i have been giving myself all say that i am powerful. i need to access my power now. i am doing my internship with prisoners and it’s rad but it takes a lot of me. and it’s just the saddest things. can’t say them here, of course. but reading the cards, at midnight in the 24 hour laundromat, with slowjamz playing on the radio, they say that i can do it, and i believe them.

remembering to stay present, here in my body, and breathe through whatever bad things are happening in my reality and also in my mind. learning how to deal with a name springing up in an unexpected place, like a petition at work. that feeling of never being able to escape, of never getting better. one day i will be okay. i don’t know what it will take, but it will happen. i just have to keep breathing until then.

i’ve been lazy about writing. there are lots of sweet distractions and i just need a break. been pounding back kava kava endlessly. remember to breathe. i am so anxious here, even though in many ways there is far less to be afraid of. i cut off the last of my purple hair. back to work, back to reality. i look like a cute dyke/boy, although i am neither. more dyke than boy. but still, none of those.

going out to yoga. talking about hard things over indian buffet in a restaurant with a couch full of giant stuffed animals. good talks over crackly prison collect call phone lines. riding bikes in the sunshine. watching “90210” while drunk-sewing. endless quesadillas. giving tarot readings and being shocked at the team dresch reference in the guidebook, bursting into song. stacks of library books. sweet hugs. talking about where we were a year ago, and how far that is now.

leaving the house. it’s a good idea!

Standard

so, yesterday i went out to get beer. i’d actually been out of the house all day. i was calm during two situations that shoulda been stressful (job interview, old ladiez throwing shade at the PLP) and stressed out during something that wasn’t a big deal (hanging out with punx! aaaah!!). feeling shaky. hyperventilating a little bit on BART, which i normally don’t do. needed something to take the edge off and sometimes beer is the least self-harming.

so! i drank my friend’s last beer and then headed to the corner store by myself, to get more. on the way, a boy-girl couple with an acoustic guitar sang a song about me. just about my outfit and how we were all walking down the street together. i turned around and sang, “ohmigod, i thought i was just stepping out for a beer…” and the girl interrupted and said, “follow us!” in a way that matched the tone and music perfectly. “but now you’re singing a song about me,” i sang, “and i’m so glad to be here…” we all smiled at each other and then walked in the store, like old friends. the girl kept singing that i am beautiful, but i think she was just trying to manipulate me into buying them a beer. i don’t know. it’s hard to tell.

inside the corner store they got weird. it was clear they were huge drunks and getting kinda rowdy and a little offensive. they told the corner store guy to fuck off because they thought he was charging too much and i just felt embarrassed. especially because he isn’t! i felt the need to apologize for them when it was my turn. he smiled sheepishly and said, “oh, i don’t care. i don’t know them. and you get all kinds of people in here…good, bad…” i could tell that my apologizing made him feel better, and that made me happy.

i walked home with a totebag of beer and into another sweet adventure. the night air felt great and full of possibility. it’s not too cold yet.

oh, hi,

Standard

i’ve been pretty disinterested in the internet lately. i’m more into taking long baths to soak the gluestick off my fingertips. that’s how i like life to be. what can i say, i’m an incurable zinester. sitting at a messy desk or table, wearing layers and layers to ward off the chill, cutting tiny bits of text and gluing them on top of an aesthetically pleasing background makes me feel good, as though i am being my truest self.

today i had a job (okay not really a job, an internship, but for somewhere really amazing!!) interview on the phone that went pretty well. i was thinking about it approximately 7 hours later and realized that, when she asked what my strengths are for doing this work, one of them was, “i don’t cry when people yell at me.” realizing how that’s kind of fucked up. but it’s actually my best job skill, i think! it can be used in food service, social work, retail….ok, sometimes i do cry when people yell at me but not too much. honestly, i mentioned it because one common complaint i’ve read from women of color about why they dislike working with white women on political issues is that “white women cry too much.” and i wanted to make it clear that, although i am a white woman and have lots of privilege in this world and may react to things in ways that belie this privilege in an annoying way: i DON’T FUCKING CRY. at least, not in front of people (strangers don’t count). that’s really important to me, it’s been important my whole life.

life has been fun lately but i have a fear of posting good things on the internet. fear that if i talk about them publicly they’ll be taken away. it’s stupid and i know it but that’s how i am. but i am glad that i moved to the bay, glad i have the friends i do, glad i am learning to read tarot, glad that i am learning to live with issues i’ve been struggling with for so long. i am learning patience, and acknowledging the ways other people are patient with me, even when i’m being slow or loud. i have been making a lot of quesadillas and cookies.

oh & on that note i am kind of gaining a lot of weight & i think that’s a good thing. i lost a lot of weight while going through breakup hell last summer/fall and it killed me when people told me how good i looked, when i would have given anything to be happy, with an appetite. i have mainly gained the weight because i do not have a ridiculously steep hill to climb every day. here in oakland, the streets are well-worn and flat. everyone tells me i have no business in the hills, “that’s where the rich people are.” so i stay on the flats and i bike slowly because my brakes suck as always. i write every day even when it brings me to bad places. this writing hasn’t, but a lot of it does.