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sunday overalls and hooded porch mate kind of night [May. 28th, 2006|10:26 pm]
oh, to mention a visit... oh you give me dem shivers! please do come! i would adore it!

but more importantly:
where have you been? whats been goin on in yer life? how is it? i want to leave you a phone message right now(!), but i bet its late on a sunday and you could potentially be home and so... hmm.

ha! i am listening to fiona apple. i am still not employed. cigarettes dont taste good these days but i crave them more and more often. i have been dancing for so many days in a row that i wake up with eyes who want to open least of all of everything, they are not ready and i have a bazillion crushes and a front porch and my brother visited for 3 hours last week and i told my roommate today that she looked like hot dog condiments--she wears mustard yellow tights under spandex shorts with ketchup red socks under punk boots with a relish green beenie on her top when she goes biking in the rain. she makes the best cookies that i am addicted to and we keep them in the freezer. we have a parties at the house for the next three weekends--the taurus-gemini birthday bash, tovah's suprise ballet bash, and a graduation party. we are thinking about doing a secret cafe to raise money for rent. i have breakdanced (that verb doesnt sound right in that tense) twice at parties. well one club and one party, the latter at which i got cheering! me--cheering! wow. im going to the gender variant healthcare projects monday meeting for arts and crafts and then the female hiphop alliance meeting on tuesday, then a q patrol meeting wednesday (we patrol the streets and solicit businesses to put signs in the window denoting queer friendly and safe space), then tovahs ballet class thursday so we can learn the dance and videotape it to screen at her surprise party on the day of her recital (tovah is havas almost-8-year-old daughter), then i go to seattle to see my guru and jeez...

i am in love. come to olympia, sir danger. i implore you.

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percolating [May. 16th, 2006|10:08 pm]
[Current Location |herbs, sun, porch]
[music |cocorosie]

so now i am helping to organize a radical town meeting for all the nonprofits and projects and people involved in underground, anarcho, and progressive shit here in ol. that hava, she is one bundle of ideas and prdouctive fury. i tell you what.
and maybe i am going to go on tour as a roadie with nicky click and katastrophe and my new friend lidia but maybe i am not for lack of money funds to carry me through such a fabulouso summer of laidback rollin wit my homie queers.
i heard romina (who is lidias roomie and good pal and who i totally wanna be when i grow up bc she is a ball of positivity energy with dramatic heartwarming flair of creative mind beauty) and her pal julian do some amazing beatboxing and this morning, waiting for the spresso to spill i tried a few noises and was excited to see that i too can make funky noises and keep a beat with my mouth! and nose and hands and all that... and julian is lending his drumset to their house for some time and i wanna drum. and i wanna get some kind of program on my comp that allows me to make electronic music because i think i could do it. and when i have these early morning teethbrushing musical epiphanies--i could just record them and layer them and add beats and random noises to them. i just have to figure out how.
and i have been writing n collaging in my journal almost daily and it feels so good to do it for myself, in the moment, rather than creating livejournal sploches of mental barfo for an intended audience who will never reply or comment. i am looovin it!
and last night i got all hyper and did cartwheels and roundoffs and headstands in lidias yard and was so happy! and then i drank more strong spresso from nicaragua i think and it facillitated my already-hyper-on-the-verge-of staying up till 5:17 am, burning cds and looking up random shit on wikipedia like nuclear weapons and then yah... crawling into bed with lidia who is a mouth breather and therefore snores and i had to wrap my head under the pillow to escape the snortles and the rising sun through blinds and...
last night i blew a fuse or something in the front room of the house by i think plugging in too many things at once and there was a pop!! and a flame and a bad smell and none of the outlets work in the front two rooms anymore but the overhead lights do. we tried switching the breakers but to no avail... sigh.
i am so happy about the music here, burning amazing cds some of which i have wanted and sought after for some time, some of which are just new! and good! and people care about whos playing music and supporting them and passing that shit around. oh, the northwest... olympia, i romanticize you like you are the new lover i have convinced myself it is safe to become enamoured with, if only with the security of knowing i can stay as long as i like and it is good and i can leave when i please, always coming home to you... (moving probably way too fast, as i overwhelmingly more than not tend to do in romantic n precarious scenarios)
we had a family dinner at quality burrito (a great queer-owned and operated joint) and it was so nice. i knew i loved hava but abby is great too. she is hyper-crazy-jumble-of-words-n-stories that are often about the veggies and ducks on the farm at evergreen that she brings home loads of bukchoy from and then we went to the sprinklers and i didnt go in so abby laid on my back and squeezed her dreadjuice into my face and then we got icecream, well i didnt i got a ridiculously amazingly good melon popsicle.
so everything is in that amazingly ridiculously good idealistic place of wow! i found home. and well see how that changes and if i stay ive been warned i will seriously want to kill myself all winter and i believe it.
i am tanning though as i sit at yet another following another potluck in the sunshine in someones front or back yard surrounded often by herbs, the mint of which i can reach over and pluck and chew slowly while i smoke and write or read, sometimes sipping a mimosa.
cocorosie. and the smell of caffeine, percolation.


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a Pop! and Some Sparks and Then This Awful Smell... [May. 15th, 2006|10:10 pm]
{{from my journal}}
Hangin' at Lid's. I blew the fuses at my house and now the outlets won't work. Did cartwheels and roundoffs in the front yard when i started to get all energetic. Tried to teach Lid to do a headstand. Didn't work. Recounted the convo with Hava and Abby (somewhat) earlier about safe spaces and coalition building, specifically between feminists and transfolks. Told about my imagined love yer body day event. Got more hyper. Played like silly kids on Julian's drums. Was kind of bossy. Hmmm. Drank more coffee while J + Romina beatboxed. That was inspiring. Looked up nuclear weapons on wikipedia and then explained the progression of human development in terms of astrological houses. Uploaded more wonderful CDs. Looked at pics. Lid is so photogenic. The fabulous wardrobe helps. Felt both distance and closeness. No making out today. They are tired and I am wide awake, so he is retiring and i am still burning, smoking, writing and checking livejournal. Read lots from my journal. Lid's friends are all so beautiful. Laughed at a child's version of beauty: grease spots on a car window. Laughed a lot. Lid is beautiful. I was overcome with it and grateful to be in the presence of one with such fabulous facial expressions.
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deep listening [May. 12th, 2006|09:43 pm]
((from my journal))
Abby is talking about listening and the difference between hearing someone’s speech, their words and verbal communication and then hearing underneath that, their deeper communication, their intentions and the person that resides under all those various forms of expression, behavior, communication. I keep having conversations or hearing people talk about this idea in various ways and I think it’s being pointed out to me. I think I’m at a place where I need to develop my ability to listen under the surface and respond according to that rather than the immediate. I know sometimes I react to folks on a deeper level, my instinct drawing me closer or directing me away in fear, but I think that taking that in, sitting with and assessing those reactions further and outside of my immediate level of comfort would be a productive exercise. I was just talking to Abby a few days ago about how I sense other people’s discomfort or uneasiness and react to it really readily, but I think that if I don’t actively push myself to push past that and take up a different role in interactions, I will continuously be “working on” my sense of self-certainty and grounded-ness and never actually maintaining such a state. I want to begin coming from a place of compassion more often, rather than fear and self-protection, though to self-protect is a valid, useful and necessary tool in many cases. It’s so much less about the impression I want people to have of me, which is where my attention has been for so long. It’s about being a person doing things for other people, helping people to find their way as I learn to find mine, to give to people, to give to people. That is what forms my sense of self—that which I do outside of my own ego. If it stops being about me + my fears, that is about progression, growth, becoming. If it is about me as a being absorbing beauty + energy + love in the world and expressing and transmitting that through random and fully intentional acts of kindness, compassion, understanding and assistance, I am becoming the person I want to be. My presence in the world must continue to be less about being seen (an image, a persona) and more about the deeper impressions I make on the lives of people. I have my own way of doing that as a unique and individualized form of god-ness (little bit o’ God as love on the level of energy) as part of a larger force of existence and being. Like I was talking about with Lidia, I have to practice my spirituality through my politics. I have to become me through the daily manifestation of my spiritual and political beliefs—they are inseparable.
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structure is fragmenting; exploring is now. this is a key to the exploding phenomenon. [May. 6th, 2006|09:47 pm]
{{from my journal}}
it is times like this that i need writing most. expression overall. self-expression. that i need to utilize tools to let out of myself the tension that hides there, that seeks dark nooks and crannies of my inner being, my psyche to excavate and dig deeper, forming patterns everlong and ever-haunting, that is, at least, until i take notice enough to break them (notice + energy + motivation + reason + initiative, i mean). it is times like this that i go into analysis mode so deep that i forget to check up on some of my regular (and irregular) behavior. I AM IN A NEW ENVIRONMENT. i am exposed. i am raw (wounded, if you will). i am navigating (floundering at times). i am putting out feelers and retracting others. i am attempting new modes of communication and interaction predicated upon a new mode of learning. I AM TRANSITIONING. i have entered a new physical, geographical and environmental space. it has affected more than my emotional and mental state. and yet, though i sometimes find the words to portray and discuss this with others, i rarely find the words for myself. i somehow feel that the monotony will bore myself. that i will be appalled at the lack of growth or self-development that exposing such instability in writing or other forms of expression will surely indicate. and so i continue on, surging through the days with renewed short-term commitment to dealing in more stable conscientious frames of mind that will surely reinstate my former drive and sense of self-security, stability and independence. and yet, this is, to repeat: A NEW ENVIRONMENT. both physically and psychically. and thus, these determinations cannot be acted out the same. similarly maybe, but in identical form? certainly not. to be the same is impossible. a false notion: to feel like yourself again. while some mechanisms of action and reaction, as parts of the self, stay the same, my sense of self is ever-changing and conducive to environment-initiated forces, no periods, of growth. i can't even say periods because that implies a designated beginning and end, of which there is none. continual. it is all continual. EVER-GOING PROCESS OF GROWTH. that is me. that is my life. that is a representation and reflection, a regurgitation of that which i see and feel and hear and know and understand around me. that is all based on my engagement with those surroundings.

sometimes i think i fake it. sometimes i think i write what i would like to see about what i am thinking and feeling and dealing with at this time, when i look back. sometimes i write just so it can be there, just so i can get it out so it's not in my head but it's not actually the thoughts i've been having or the shit i've really been struggling with. sometimes it becomes more about artistic expression than truth or necessity or actual service to myself. and then i am struggling again with "what is this journal?"... [blah, blah, blah...]

voices, voices, voices
"deep listening is listening all the time and reminding yourself when you're not listening... listening under the surface, understanding that there's lots of different ways of listening. even though we're hearing all the time--our ears are open all the time--we might not be listening to what is coming in, what is present."
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once the best of friends [May. 2nd, 2006|02:05 pm]
[Current Location |evergreen computer lab]
[mood |awake]

amber daughn to me (4/26):
haven't talked to you in a while, how are you doing?
me to amber daughn (4/26):
i have all but fallen apart at the seams around fifteen times this term, but ive got three days and counting to get the fuck out. four papers, one down, seconds almost...
i hate this place. i fucks with my head so bad. thank god i dont have to be back for another eights months. im moving to olympia, wa, at least for the summer.
what about you? whats new? whats goin on lately? hows things? what are the plans? lets have an update.
amber daughn to me (4/27):
i am making it. this place hasn't quite been the same since coming back from abroad. not going to china anymore and will be in college for at least one extra semester. i guess i have been basically flailing as gracefully as possible. but it's not that bad, rachel is coming to visit me this weekend.
i feel pretty estranged from the friends back home, you as well. no pressure, just a reminder to myself too.
love you.
me to amber daughn (5/2):
yeah. the flailing. ive never had so little academic pressure as this term and yet, such intense feelings of overwhelming anxiety and all-enocmpassing woe. bullshit. i get taken in for the bullshit. still not done. didnt finish the work. gotta start a new life. now im here. now i gotta pay rent again and buy my own groceries. now i gotta hunt out a job. now i gotta figure out a new schedule that can be nothing like the schedule that held me together in stitches for the past two especially mortifying months of hell.
jesus, my brain depresses me. especially when it appears the only continuous semistable inkling of a foundational thought process is fear. yup, good old fear.
hey, im gonna call you. and we should talk. i hope youre available tonight. and if not tonight, tomorrow.
love you too, honey. always will. no matter how estranged we become.
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oh karen [Apr. 21st, 2006|11:16 am]
i am so very sad about my myspace account. it was because i put up an artistically altered nudie photo. damn my lack of self restraint. at least i think so. i just tried to sign in one day and it wouldnt let me. it was the end of a small online community i had been cultivating for quite some time. all my comments and writing... all gone. and whats worse, when i try to sign in now, with my new account, it gives me a hard time. it doesnt want me anymore, that myspace. sniffle...

im okay these days. actually pretty darn good. i did lose my best friend about a week ago. no, not to death, only to drama. other than that, things are lookin up pretty good. im headed to olympia for coop. gonna live with my pal hava and volunteer for feminist, queer, and tranny causes. plus wait tables or sumpin.

i did get your postcard. and on my list o things to do for some time now, has beent to write you back. it was quite exciting to get the card--i showed anat and we kinda squealed... but not in a girly gross icky kinda way, o course.

how are you? whats new? hows maine? are you doing school this term? working? the romance you had mentioned? i wish wed gotten your tush over to this campus, i think not only the wmse crew but the whole darn place coulda used a lil karen judkins in the mix. shipshape us up.


i miss you and pledge to email more frequently as a product of my new gmail account, which appears to be a modern marvel of technological rationale.

bobbie d.
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...also from a grosz article [Apr. 20th, 2006|02:27 am]
"Carnal intimacy is not a practical space; it does not open a field for action. The erotic movements are agitation that handles and fondles without keeping anything in its place, without extending its force outward and without going anywhere. Here nothing will be accomplished; one will waste time, unprofitably. Voluptuousness has no tasks and no objectives and leaves no heritage; after all the caresses and embraces, the carnal is left intact, virgin territory... It is not the locus from which would emerge the meaning of one's history." (Lingis 1985:67)
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each time i hear someone speak [Apr. 20th, 2006|12:16 am]
[mood |contemplativecontemplative]
[music |miss kitten and the hacker]

or present what theyve been doing with their life lately, i unintentionally begin to consider where the rest of their life goes. how they navigate the space that their work stretches out before them. how they create boundaries for emotional containment and physical engagement in order to serve a "higher calling." what feeds them to carry on. where they feel they are tied into the world, through what avenues do they gain strength. when does work and life mesh inseparably so that what you are doing is all that you need and desire? or even, that you cant think past?

i assess whether or not i could handle such fathomed positions. could i venture out into the world headed in these directions? could i plunge myself fully into that environment and survive? could this be the thing that serves to stabilize me (or helps me to stabilize myself rather)--gives me a reason to keep my innards in check?

when you feel the overwhelming urge to dedicate yourself wholeheartedly, it is a difficult restraint you must place upon yourself to say, "i dont think i could handle that... at least, not yet."
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from a reading assignment [Apr. 20th, 2006|12:00 am]
"I knew you'd be a good lover when I noticed you always smelt books before you read them--especially hardbacks...now make love to me."
-Mary Fallon, 1989:86
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