Low groans of nights spent alone
Well, not really alone.
Dear Sketchy,
Thursday night I drank a wee bit of the gin and spent from 9:30-1am in the YB space with Wills, chatting and working on our own bikes. Seriously? I like the guy _seriously_. He's not the surfer burnout he plays himself off to be/seems in public; although he did tell me (my) asexuality was a product of not getting laid enough - a typical guy response.
Yesterday I spent all morning learning TIG from my hot TA (as opposed to my beautiful TA who sends me excellent cheater notes) which I'm not terrible at, got the YB key for Wills and snapped my ID clean in half, practiced TIG from 1 to 3:30, went to get my drug hookup from health svcs, read about torture for the rest of the afternoon, bike-stalked Wills to get the key back ("If his white bike is here and assembled, and his blue bike is over there... he must be at Saga?"), missing him but finding out about a presentation from the Beehive Collective [http://www.beehivecollective.org/] at Smith that he was going to - I raced to the bus stop to try to catch the same bus but saw him speeding down to our mod, I caught up and got the key and met him with Ada and Andreas and Clay, and later Katie and Micah where we had to wait an HOUR in the freezing cold for the next bus - which was supposed to arrive at HC after the thing started. So Clay and Andreas backed out to drink and listen to a Tragedy cd on repeat, and the rest of us had a fucking AMAZING time...
...listening to an art-based presentation on economic injustice, deforestation, biopiracy and biodiversity, cultural colonialism, illicit non-warfare, corporatization of C & S American exploitation, etc etc ETC... alllllll within (little did I know at the begining) the scope of the Plan Pueblo Panama: my NUMBER ONE anger sparker coming home from Guatemala which I had heard nothing about since.
After their presentation there was a semi-related screening of radical queer stuff- 3 upsettingly violent shorts and a fucking fantastic feature. Dear me. Dumpster drag queens and an anti-wedding present of TNT wrapped in pink velvet. A fabulously dressed gay sabotage of a gay marriage. Water balloons. And of course the sardinepacked Smith audience was so damn hott I almost passed out from the rubber necking and sweat loss.
It was a night of meshing issues, most of which I've been needing to see recognized in order to feel okay even having my queer, anti-capital, anti-globalization, artistic, pro-community side.
On the way back we met up with Alex and (I don't remember her name - she's skinny and many-patched with GIGANTIC eyes and is friends with the B3 queer guy and the girl with dark hair who always wears sunglasses - but I want to call her Aletha), who had been to both. We split up, I went with Alex and Bike Punk Girl to the next stop where I ended up talking to a physically disabled guy named Chris who had a lot to say about the desperation of our era, disabilities services, "fairness", separation of people with special needs being like any other kind of segregation, the foster care system/government and the family, alienation, flattery, being a genuine person, the importance of human connection, and how I should drop by Dunkin' Doughnuts and Starbucks and say hi.
Bike Punk Girl didn't have much to say, but I like the way Alex approaches a lot of the issues we heard about, and that she knows of and appreciates the FUCKED UP stories about the Japanese band Gism - the lead singer frequently jumps offstage to beat audience members unconscious with chains and has stabbed a fan in the head for wearing a bootlegged patch at least once.
I think I was belligerant and incoherent while talking with them about veganism and ALF type issues and Alex's Div III, but I don't know for sure and I'm just making myself feel bad about a perfectly interesting and fun interaction.
Once we got home I made myself hot chocolate and read Greek comedy in bed.
I dreamed about milling machines and macaroni and cheese.
Hope you're having at least a salvageable time. We'll have fun soon yelling about manifestos and grains, flags, metaphor, and artists taking over the world.
Te amo.
k
Dear Sketchy,
Thursday night I drank a wee bit of the gin and spent from 9:30-1am in the YB space with Wills, chatting and working on our own bikes. Seriously? I like the guy _seriously_. He's not the surfer burnout he plays himself off to be/seems in public; although he did tell me (my) asexuality was a product of not getting laid enough - a typical guy response.
Yesterday I spent all morning learning TIG from my hot TA (as opposed to my beautiful TA who sends me excellent cheater notes) which I'm not terrible at, got the YB key for Wills and snapped my ID clean in half, practiced TIG from 1 to 3:30, went to get my drug hookup from health svcs, read about torture for the rest of the afternoon, bike-stalked Wills to get the key back ("If his white bike is here and assembled, and his blue bike is over there... he must be at Saga?"), missing him but finding out about a presentation from the Beehive Collective [http://www.beehivecollective.org/] at Smith that he was going to - I raced to the bus stop to try to catch the same bus but saw him speeding down to our mod, I caught up and got the key and met him with Ada and Andreas and Clay, and later Katie and Micah where we had to wait an HOUR in the freezing cold for the next bus - which was supposed to arrive at HC after the thing started. So Clay and Andreas backed out to drink and listen to a Tragedy cd on repeat, and the rest of us had a fucking AMAZING time...
...listening to an art-based presentation on economic injustice, deforestation, biopiracy and biodiversity, cultural colonialism, illicit non-warfare, corporatization of C & S American exploitation, etc etc ETC... alllllll within (little did I know at the begining) the scope of the Plan Pueblo Panama: my NUMBER ONE anger sparker coming home from Guatemala which I had heard nothing about since.
After their presentation there was a semi-related screening of radical queer stuff- 3 upsettingly violent shorts and a fucking fantastic feature. Dear me. Dumpster drag queens and an anti-wedding present of TNT wrapped in pink velvet. A fabulously dressed gay sabotage of a gay marriage. Water balloons. And of course the sardinepacked Smith audience was so damn hott I almost passed out from the rubber necking and sweat loss.
It was a night of meshing issues, most of which I've been needing to see recognized in order to feel okay even having my queer, anti-capital, anti-globalization, artistic, pro-community side.
On the way back we met up with Alex and (I don't remember her name - she's skinny and many-patched with GIGANTIC eyes and is friends with the B3 queer guy and the girl with dark hair who always wears sunglasses - but I want to call her Aletha), who had been to both. We split up, I went with Alex and Bike Punk Girl to the next stop where I ended up talking to a physically disabled guy named Chris who had a lot to say about the desperation of our era, disabilities services, "fairness", separation of people with special needs being like any other kind of segregation, the foster care system/government and the family, alienation, flattery, being a genuine person, the importance of human connection, and how I should drop by Dunkin' Doughnuts and Starbucks and say hi.
Bike Punk Girl didn't have much to say, but I like the way Alex approaches a lot of the issues we heard about, and that she knows of and appreciates the FUCKED UP stories about the Japanese band Gism - the lead singer frequently jumps offstage to beat audience members unconscious with chains and has stabbed a fan in the head for wearing a bootlegged patch at least once.
I think I was belligerant and incoherent while talking with them about veganism and ALF type issues and Alex's Div III, but I don't know for sure and I'm just making myself feel bad about a perfectly interesting and fun interaction.
Once we got home I made myself hot chocolate and read Greek comedy in bed.
I dreamed about milling machines and macaroni and cheese.
Hope you're having at least a salvageable time. We'll have fun soon yelling about manifestos and grains, flags, metaphor, and artists taking over the world.
Te amo.
k