(no subject)
my body woke up at six am still drunk from the handful of scorpion bowls/citrusades (?!) that i had last night at some random straight bar in the city.
i tried my very hardest to fall back asleep to try to sleep off the intoxication, but that wasn't happening at all. i think i was having a partial panic attack because i realized that instead of staying home last night and being responsible and packing/cleaning i went out and crashed as soon as i got back. so, i dragged myself out of bed at six thirty and showered and generally got ready.
now i'm sitting in my half-empty room with two suitcases sitting in front of me wondering what exactly i forgot (guh, space saver bags!) and listening to old tilly & the wall.
i just called all my friends and demanded they get up and hang out with me (one of them was already up and also anxiety-ridden and watching videos on life sized sex dolls, which i am fascinated with - i love her). so now i've upset several groggy/hungover people way earlier than they probably wanted, but i need to have one last ridiculous breakfast before i head to logan. basically.
yesterday i met with the professor i'm going to be ta-ing for next semester and she's totally lovely. she said i could teach the unit on trans/queer issues, which i'm stoked for, and she has this amazing new zealand accent that i'm kind of in love with.
i've been burning cds nonstop for the past twenty four hours for a friend who will be spending about that long in the car on the drive back home. moral of the story, i pretty much love my taste in music. also, i'm super confused when people don't actively listen to/enjoy music as much as i do. i mean, i have twentyish gigs of music on my computer and really can't fathom having any less. (crap! external harddrive!).
my dad is picking me up from the airport and is being too cute about the whole thing. i think, at sixty-five, he might be finally trying to understand who i am and what i am passionate about, even if it's things he doesn't necessarily understand. i sent him this paper i wrote on gender therapy as a vehicle for activism and he read all twenty pages and sent me back a note that said that he was impressed and wanted to talk more about it. i think he's scared of words like 'feminist' and 'queer' and 'trans' because he doesn't know any better, but i've been actively trying to find and make copies of simpler pieces that can explain it to him in a way that he understands that more people than my friends & i are working towards this common goal.
friends: let's hang out, yes?
i tried my very hardest to fall back asleep to try to sleep off the intoxication, but that wasn't happening at all. i think i was having a partial panic attack because i realized that instead of staying home last night and being responsible and packing/cleaning i went out and crashed as soon as i got back. so, i dragged myself out of bed at six thirty and showered and generally got ready.
now i'm sitting in my half-empty room with two suitcases sitting in front of me wondering what exactly i forgot (guh, space saver bags!) and listening to old tilly & the wall.
i just called all my friends and demanded they get up and hang out with me (one of them was already up and also anxiety-ridden and watching videos on life sized sex dolls, which i am fascinated with - i love her). so now i've upset several groggy/hungover people way earlier than they probably wanted, but i need to have one last ridiculous breakfast before i head to logan. basically.
yesterday i met with the professor i'm going to be ta-ing for next semester and she's totally lovely. she said i could teach the unit on trans/queer issues, which i'm stoked for, and she has this amazing new zealand accent that i'm kind of in love with.
i've been burning cds nonstop for the past twenty four hours for a friend who will be spending about that long in the car on the drive back home. moral of the story, i pretty much love my taste in music. also, i'm super confused when people don't actively listen to/enjoy music as much as i do. i mean, i have twentyish gigs of music on my computer and really can't fathom having any less. (crap! external harddrive!).
my dad is picking me up from the airport and is being too cute about the whole thing. i think, at sixty-five, he might be finally trying to understand who i am and what i am passionate about, even if it's things he doesn't necessarily understand. i sent him this paper i wrote on gender therapy as a vehicle for activism and he read all twenty pages and sent me back a note that said that he was impressed and wanted to talk more about it. i think he's scared of words like 'feminist' and 'queer' and 'trans' because he doesn't know any better, but i've been actively trying to find and make copies of simpler pieces that can explain it to him in a way that he understands that more people than my friends & i are working towards this common goal.
friends: let's hang out, yes?