the bachelors

(no subject)

can you even believe that it's been over a year since i've written a single thing on livejournal? i guess i got back into journaling in notebooks again. hand-writing everything gives you time to think it out, to realize that just because it is thought it is not necessarily true or worth believing. i realized that i was starting to type some shit on my tumblr that started to come out just like the voice i used to write in my journals, and for the first time it felt natural to type my thoughts and feelings in a really long time. things have changed so much. this is what i started to (and will now finish) write:

i could see the judgement on my counselor's face when i told her about all of the bruises and marks that were left on me. maybe it was just vicarious pain. i know that most people don't get why i like being beaten up, and sometimes i'm not sure i really "get" it either, but i promise you that everything is always consensual and safe and honestly a lot of fun. i had a date with a different boy the next day, he was so sweet and kind, and when he started to pull off my dress i told him that he would see everything. this completely freaked him out and instead of fooling around any longer, we laid on his bed while he cried about how weird and intense it all was, and then we shared more secrets and studied each other's faces and sang along to lonesome crowded west in the car on the drive back in the snow. who the fuck even knows what i'm doing because i realize that i need to be focusing on my career right now, but the only trouble is that i have to have a life outside of work and school too, so how do i balance it all? i need to do better in school, i need to be more proactive about my grades because anything lower than a "B" is a failing mark in graduate school

my job is... crazy. i wish there was a better word. outrageous? absurd? unpredictable? chaotic, intense, fast-paced, emotional, intimate, unstable. i work in a residential mental health treatment home for children; we provide the highest level of long-term care in the state. our kids have serious histories of trauma and behavioral "problems"; they basically don't come to our program unless they've been committing crimes or hurting themselves. recently i watched "one flew over the cuckoo's nest" for a class project and i was pretty alarmed at how realistic and accurately it portrayed working with mentally ill people. obviously things have changed since then, but some people really are cruel...

music has brought me so much joy these past few months. recently i am feeling pretty positive, pretty present. but i've also been feeling restless and a little volatile so i told my counselor about it yesterday. she told me that she thinks i'm just finally adjusting to life without all of my baggage in the way, that my nervous system is just getting used to taking in and storing all of this information about my feelings now that the darkness is leaving and my real self, my soul can shine through. my body has to get used to seeing the world differently, i guess. now that i can calm down about feeling funny, i can start figuring out the purpose that my self-destructive behaviors serve for me... lisa said that maybe it would help to conceptualize myself just as i would one of my clients, and to use that to have compassion for myself in the same way i would for them. apparently only then will i really be able to see my true needs. i don't know. maybe this is all bullshit, eh? maybe my whole field doesn't actually do a damn thing to help people and we're just talking out of our asses. it sure feels like that sometimes...

for the first time in my life i want to dye my hair. like, my entire head. i've had a little blond patch for ages but i think i want to dye my hair black. or at least a darker brown... or a dark red. i think it's just time for a big change, you know? i've been in vermont for a year and a half now and with all of the changes my hair has stayed the same. i feel so different i can hardly believe it when i look the same in the mirror... and i think i need a change to feel good about myself right now. i've been struggling with body image stuff again, but i think it's so intricately connected with my other issues, so i guess it makes sense that it's coming up right now. 

this has really been such an amazing time in my life though. i don't think i could have learned half as much at school as i have at my job, and i get to do fun things with kids most of the time, and i am financially independent and secure, and i am finally healing from a lot of junk. although i don't think i can stay in vermont much after i graduate from grad school. it's just too rural for me, i guess. i miss hustle and bustle. brittany and i have plans to move to the city sometime when i'm done with school, but that is far in the future. i miss her dearly.

as i type this i am procrastinating my first paper of the semester. it's a research review of any counseling model we choose. i picked narrative therapy for a multitude of reasons, but i do particularly connect with and relate to it. the basic theoretical idea is that people create meaning through the stories they tell. our stories are often influenced by dominant narratives--socially constructed cultural ideas of reality. oftentimes these dominant narratives, prescribed by culture and society, do not represent our actual experience. so when we can externalize our problems, which have been framed by dominant narratives rather than our own personal narratives, we can begin to heal and tell our story from a new and preferred perspective. so goddamn it, i want to tell my story from my own perspective! i want to truly be able to separate myself from the things that i have learned from society so that i can truly love myself again for everything that i am
the bachelors

(no subject)

i was lying in my bed with my headphones in, when i looked at the pictures on my wall and noticed that i still have the polaroid of me with the "friend" who molested me. i must not look at those pictures very often, because i'm not sure why i hadn't taken that one down and burned it yet. it's been four months.

i layed on my bed and wondered how many other girls he's done this to. people know who he is, they see him perform and think he's a nice, funny guy, and nobody even knows what he's done. he could be anybody.

i layed on my bed and thought about how people are still making rape jokes where the punchline is that she had it coming all along. and instead of teaching our kids about consent, we still tell our daughters what clothes to wear to prevent strangers from jumping out from behind the bushes in the dark with a knife. and all the while we keep muffling the voices of real people who have gone to hell and back, only to be silenced in the end. we don't even know what we've lost. so i'll just lay here with my headphones and re-build my walls, like they weren't already high enough, until i let them down for somebody who called himself my friend for three years. someone who knows how strong and stubborn i am, and how vulnerable and heartbroken i already was that day. that awful day.

but in the moment, i wasn't terrified. he picked me up so that my feet were off the ground, so that i literally had no place to run. and i looked around the room and i noticed that the lights were bright, and i thought about what i would do later that evening, and i thought about how i'd told him that i didn't think i wanted to date men anymore, and i looked at the clock and wondered how much longer i would have to deal with his hands and his lips all over me. but for now, i would just stay quiet, because i didn't want to make things any more uncomfortable than i already felt. when he pinned me to the bed, i looked into his crystal blue eyes for the last time, and i saw nothing. his eyes haunt my dreams, my nightmares.

and i blame myself. i think i felt that being a bad-ass feminist would somehow prevent me from ever being hurt like this, even though i know better than that. i know that this world has set me up. i was not born of my mother's bulletproof womb knowing to shut up and take it. little girls learn that their silence is expected and that they are only worth their bodies, so no wonder i can hardly look at my own reflection without feeling disgusted and ashamed. because the sexuality that i worked so hard to claim for myself and nobody else isn't even worth my voice. i have spent years learning to love my fat body and accept it as my own. learning to listen to my body, and occupy it, and appreciate it. all of these years to feel like my fat body is beautiful and worthy of love for myself and nobody else, and you come along to let me know that you are more entitled to it.

did you not hear me when i told you i wasn't ready? did you not feel me pushing your body off of mine? did you not know that it is a privilege to feel this body? have you known what it's like to literally be nothing more than a piece of meat for someone to get off on, to have someone prove to you how powerless you are, how un-human you should be? have you known what it's like to have somebody take your own body away from you? i do.

so, i am here to take my body back. this is reclamation. i didn't spend years breaking down my own crippling body shame just to let some asshole take that from me. every time i look in the mirror and feel beautiful, it is a REVOLUTION, because i am proud of the space that my size sixteen, two-hundred pound figure takes up in this world where bodies are held to some bullshit standard, some arbitrary measure. these numbers, they don't say anything about my character, or my health, or my worth, and "fat" isn't a dirty word. this tiny bit of food on this tiny little plate doesn't subdue my hunger or nourish my body, it doesn't make me a better person or a beautiful person, and it doesn't teach me how to love myself. these clothes, the ones on my fat body, they are a celebration of my wide hips and my thunder thighs and my back rolls and my stretch marks. fuck every rule about horizontal stripes and tummy tucking jeans; my belly fat is worth celebrating because it is mine and mine alone. this body is powerful, and political, and beautiful in all of its rippling glory, so i am here to take my body back. this, this is reclamation.
the bachelors

(no subject)

things are so different than i thought they would be. i think things are good. the vagina memoirs, that came and went. i think that was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. i know i'm corny, but i'm okay with that. i'm feeling a little more like myself. there are big changes coming, big big changes. naomi is graduating and moving back home. this is my last quarter, and then i move away from bellingham, too. i'm going to graduate school in vermont. brittany and i are...something. we will be something, even though it will wreak havoc on everybody. ourselves included, because i'm leaving. rachel won't take it well. naomi's been struggling with it. and it feels strange, to date one of your closest friends. i am also back on meds, for the first time since middle school. that feels strange, too. but i've been doing better lately, and that's all that really matters. i told 1800 people what was running through my mind during one of the worst moments of my life. and then i told them that "fat" isn't a dirty word. i cried. on closing night, i had to pull the mic away because i couldn't stop sobbing, and everybody was clapping and telling me they love me and that i "got this". i'm getting the logo tattooed on my arm, actually, just this week. to remind me that i always have my heart and my strength. that that's what we all have in common. i've been so into music lately. can you remember the last time music made me feel like this? i swear, it's been years. it feels so good. it feels like me again. things are changing, big things are happening, we're all being forced to grow up a little all of a sudden. i can't believe it's happening, i can't believe i'm going to graduate school. on the east coast. in a beautiful town on the water. i am going to actually be a counselor, and i get to be a part of a program that focuses on multiculturalism and hands-on experience. i'm getting out of washington, as much as i love the northwest. it's time to move on, i feel it my bones. it's comfortable here, though, bellingham feels like home more than vancouver and i love these people like family. i swear that these are some of the best days of my life and it's painful to know that, for some reason. sometimes i'm not really sure how life can get much better than this. it feels like after college, you have to work harder for less payoff. maybe i'm just young, or maybe this is why some people never grow up. i don't really know. it's just weird to realize that i don't have anything to run from anymore. but really, that's a good thing. things are good.
the bachelors

(no subject)

i got to stand up in front of 80 people and talk about why i love being fat. i think this was probably one of the single most empowering moments of my whole life, honestly.

i don't know if you knew that i write in here about things i'm kind of afraid to talk about in real life. but i do. this weekend i went to a poetry slam, and i've seen spoken word and seen poetry performed before but this feels like it changed my life a little bit. and at some point we sat there, five of us on four chairs, and during the intermission brittany sees me staring off and asks me what's wrong. i shake my head and tell her i want to scream, because i did. i still do a little bit, i probably will more later on. i've survived violence, i learn about it and talk about it and do everything i can to prevent it in my world, i am a bad ass feminist and i know it, and i still end up another statistic about how 1 in 4 girls is sexually assaulted between ages 16 to 24. this has completely changed everything. i never thought it would change everything, honestly, i didn't think that i would start thinking differently or that all of a sudden my mind just wouldn't go certain places to preserve my sanity or that all of a sudden i can't see myself in a relationship anymore at all when before i couldn't see myself outside of my past relationship. all of a sudden i need so much more time to myself than i've taken in the past year to just be with myself and enjoy it, all of a sudden everything i tried to teach myself about feeling instead of being numb doesn't make sense because that numbness was just leftover, this is a new pain. i don't trust myself anymore, and i've spent so much time learning to trust other people and now i don't think i really trust other people, either. and all of the energy put into me feeling like i have control over my body, to have someone else violate it. and you know the part that makes me want to scream? that it wouldn't have happened the way it did if women weren't told to be pleasant and submissive and accommodating and to keep quiet. and as hard as i work to shed all of those roles, and as successful as i can feel i've been, it's been ingrained in us since we were born.

i wasn't actually very calm at the time. i've been avoiding it, emotionally, because it's been easier.


violence, power, oppression, privilege. these words are my daily vocabulary and i love it that way. maybe i keep telling myself that if i disect and deconstruct and pull apart power dynamics in the world that i'll be able to reconcile my own experiences, maybe part of me just wants the world to be a better place. i feel so energized after the event tonight where we talked about violence and sexism in popular music videos because talking about those things feel like second nature to me anymore. i want to be a counselor but i don't know how i will be able to separate the activist in me from my professional life.


i spend some evenings in my favorite computer lab for evening time, in the library, and i think i feel more at home there than in my own house most of the time. it's not that it's awful, because it's not, it's just not cozy and homey and relaxed.


fall came and went. it is miserably cold here. things are shifting, seasons are changing. i know i'm back to being myself when i see everything through this particular lens. part of me thinks that it's just my happy lens. things are a little warmer in feel and in color, the bad things fall away and the good things are beautiful. when i see my entire life that way, that's when i know i am back to being myself. i don't have that anymore. and all these wonderful memories i've made this fall, haven't felt that way. and it's not that those things aren't worthy of that, it's only just that things have happened and life feels different. i wonder if i'll see this point in my life through that lens when i'm older.

why do you want to talk to me? if you haven't noticed, i don't really want to talk to you. it's not that i'm upset with you, i don't have too much of a problem with you, i just don't feel ready to talk with you. i'm not ready to be friends, i still have healing to do and i don't think you realize how the damage done when we were together cannot be mended just by trying to add me again as a friend on facebook. i will not be able to talk to you, to reallyreally talk to you like the human you want me to be, for a long time. i am a giving loving person but i will not give myself up, and you cannot guilt me into it over the internet. you have always pushed my boundaries but i used to let you, and i won't anymore.

this trip home has been difficult, painful. i drove home from jordan's new house last night at 1:30 and i had put death cab's "plans" in the cd player. i hadn't listened to it in ages, probably years, but it was the first cd i found sitting on my desk that wasn't allister or some shit. i was driving up i-405 in the pouring rain and i needed so badly to drive around portland and just be me, me without her and me without our songs and without our memories, me as i am with my sadness and my alone-ness and my strength. and i didn't stop crying for hours, and i think that's what i needed. i keep hoping that if i just let myself cry when i want to then maybe i just won't want to cry as much later on. i haven't really gotten there yet. it's okay though, because i was chosen to be in the cast of the vagina memoirs this year and my friends are the best friends i could ever have and my future isn't really so far away anymore which is scary and wonderful. grad school, here i come, ready or not. i hope.
the bachelors

(no subject)

i'm pretty sure that i wish i could be dani's bff but i don't think that would be cool, she's like my boss. i found her livejournal on "accident" today and she is so cute for having a livejournal AND being in the fatshionista lj comm. i am pretty positive that this makes my life, actually. other fatties who love fat in bellingham? yes please.

i love clothes. a lot. i feel like i'm only so obsessed with them because i have nothing better to do with my time or money, apparently, but i love clothes. i love 90s floral prints, they seem to make up half of my wardrobe these days. i love short skirts, because i have great legs. i like patterened tights, black ones. i like rips in my tights, they make me feel kind of trashy and sexy. and knee highs. i wear a lot of knee highs lately. argyle knee highs. i also enjoy old lady shoes, brogues and the like. i like skinny jeans but i don't think that any jeans were made for my body, these hips and this belly don't like pants too much. i like cardigans a lot, i own a ton of them. i like my long hair, i like it when it hangs in my eyes, i like the tiny little blond piece that nobody notices.


last few days in this apartment. it seems an appropriate ending, after a weekend spent almost entirely intoxicated with my closest friends in this beautiful town, after my first psychology conference, my girlfriend who i met in this house right after we moved in on naomi's birthday at the bottom of those stairs in the front room is coming to visit me.


it's hard to be here. as much as i love her, it is so fucking hard to be here in this awful suburb with my family and my old friends. i am stubbornly independent and i love being alone when everybody else seems to hate it, and it is difficult for me to be in a relationship sometimes.

i just feel like SCREAMING because this is not the life i want to live. and i know i'm just home for the summer, it's just that i don't like this.

exhausted. exhausted. so tired of being on edge, of feeling like i've said the wrong thing, of feeling like i can't take the time i need to take care of myself, of feeling like i can't breathe, of feeling like i always assume the worst, of feeling like i can't love her the way i want to, of feeling like we don't work, of feeling like maybe love isn't enough anymore. i am so tired.

first year in six years that i haven't been to warped tour. i've outgrown it, i think. and i never thought i would, but i think i have.

i just miss bellingham, i feel like i'm waiting to go home. i like being able to take buses and walk to the grocery store and sit in the library with my coffee. i reallytruly enjoy being a student and it feels so foreign to live with my mom and ask for the car so i can drive to work every morning. i don't feel like myself.



move into new place. decorate, arrange, unpack, put away. file papers for small claims court. miss rachel. spend my days stoned listening to the beatles, not to be a cliche, but instead because there's nothing to do and nothing sounds quite as good as the beatles do lately. i'm identifying strongly with my femme-ness , and settling into my queer-ness a little more comfortably, and struggling a little with my fat-ness a little more than usual. waxes and wanes. it is so fucking good to be back in bellingham but it feels a little like i'm just visiting, i know new places just take time. talking with one of eight new roommates last night over a glass of wine and she says that things are changing, but that change is the whole vibe of this town. i think i'll feel a little more settled once rachel visits. we will have been together for a year in a few weeks. can you even believe that? it seems like after you've been together for a year that you should understand and know everything about that person inside and out, that you should have already worked through all the kinks and communication problems, that everything should just run smoothly because a year is a long time to figure those things out, but i guess it's not true. i've always been kind of afraid of relationships, been afraid of opening up and making myself vulnerable, and rightly so because goddamn it is painful to realize that i've given somebody my heart who doesn't even know what to do with it sometimes. and it's painful to realize that even though i'm not somebody who is easily infatuated, maybe this isn't true of everybody. i love human-ness. i don't really regret many things and this feels like a fault, maybe i should be more apologetic. maybe i've been scared of relationships because i always knew i would be too stubborn for one, but honestly i'm kind of proud of my stubborn-ness. i guess it's too late now anyways.
the bachelors

(no subject)

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you know how livejournal saves your drafts for you? this is the draft i've had saved since february. i'm just posting it all. not editing it. not explaining the dates, because i don't know what they are, except that the beginning is the oldest of all of it and it progresses until the very last few paragraphs that i wrote today, except for a post that i wrote the day i got a tumblr in december, but i felt compelled to delete it from tumblr and save it here instead. some of it is just crap i've copied and pasted so as not to forget. why am i so self-conscious about my writing?
ready made

(no subject)

has it really been that long since i've updated this? i think i've been so distracted. or, for a while i was distracted, and then after that i was at least attempting to distract myself. i actually haven't been up to much lately. i mean, when i look at my planner (and i am using a planner!), i've clearly been up to things. but it doesn't actually feel like much. i think i feel like i'm not doing anything with myself when i don't have any social justice issues to feel strongly about, when nothing is really tugging at me to think and interpret and challenge. i crave that.

this has got to be one of the most beautiful things i've ever heard.

i have them often, but most often when i am truly happy: these sudden realizations that i am alive. i know that sounds silly, but do you know what i mean? just a sudden moment where i really, truly feel the weight of my life and past experiences and how they have gotten me to the place i am and what i'm feeling at in that precise moment. i think the reason i remember very specific moments, split seconds, a flash of a memory, is because a lot of them are those moments, when i snap out of whatever coma i've apparently been in and truly feel how absolutely unbelievable the entire concept of life is. i can't be the only one who does this, why does nobody else ever mention these moments? i feel like for the past few months i've been having this silly minor existential crisis, and it doesn't help that i'm figuring out how gay i am. what does one even do about that, anyways?

19 down, six more to go. i've found it really frustrating that everyone keeps saying that it's not that long, you'll keep busy and be fine, it'll be so good when you finally do see her. i hate, so much, that i have to detach myself from her a little bit to be able to make it. i feel like i've always made such a point in my life to be happy in and of myself, to not really depend on anybody too much, to not expect to much from any individual, but she makes me so, so happy. it's unfamiliar, almost scary. and when i don't get to see her, to spend my time with her and hold her and and see her smile and reallytruly feel her, those feelings are a lot harder to deal with. and i know that everybody thinks that this is what i get for choosing to be in a long-distance relationship, but if you could just see that even this is better than not having her around at all.

jordan called me from the soundcheck at the jack's mannequin show in portland tonight, during "kill the messenger". do you remember when that was my whole life? do you remember the person i was then? really i suppose i wasn't actually all that different, just less developed, less evolved, more naive, more bitter. you know, i remember the way i felt the very first time i heard that song. five years ago, almost to the day, on soco.net, right? that whole album is more like home to me than any other thing or place, really. do you remember how when i was in high school, i was at a show every single weekend? how i can't even make a list of every band i've seen because there are entirely too many? i think the past few months i've felt like a lot of my life has been turned upside down with a single realization, but i've felt so grounded lately when i listen to music from my past. like this one thing doesn't have to make me doubt or question the person i've become, because i came from something that was pretty real, too. that's comforting.
ready made

(no subject)

i don't know. this is really wonderful. really beautiful. so beautiful that i wouldn't even think of compromising it despite the snowball effect. i don't feel like this relationship is anything to apologize for, but sometimes i wish it had better timing. also, i wonder if i'm gay. that wouldn't be so bad. i certainly don't feel straight these days. i was filling out one of the little comment cards for the feminist response to twilight event and when it asked for my sexual orientation, i just wrote "queer" because nothing else really seems to fit. it's just that it's hard to be figuring it out in the middle of a relationship, for a number of reasons. partially because i'm kind of scared. i've had no sexual experience with a girl before rachel, and i haven't had performance anxiety in a long time, and that fact in itself is scary. and because when i feel like "if this is what dating a girl is like, why haven't i been dating girls my whole life?" i wonder if it's just because she's really amazing, or if i just have a lot of anxiety about men in general, or if it would always be so easy and comfortable to date a woman. and, in some ways it's strange to be figuring out which part of the population i'm attracted to when really, i only want to be with her. she's really wonderful, you know. i'm not used to having anybody around who fits me so well.

one of those moments. your room, with that big orange tapestry and the tupac posters and the dim glow of the christmas lights, you put emily haines on the record player, and as soon as you set down the needle, you stood up and handed me my glass of cheap wine and you sat down next to me. did you notice that we were sitting the same as we were for our first kiss? i don't know why i remember that. it was just that i was on your left and i was leaning forward and a little bit over your lap, looking at you over my right shoulder, and you had your left arm propping you up and resting against my back. in the dim glow of the christmas lights. one of those this is exactly where i should be right now, almost like dreaming kind of feelings. those always stand out the most. i think i remember my life in moments like this; the rest of the story hardly even matters. except it does, but only hardly.

i’ve come to realize that i drink too much when i’m nervous. one could say this is an issue, especially seeing what a fool i make of myself some nights, nights like friday. it's just that it's an odd feeling to be kind of overwhelmed by something that i'd never even really considered before. rewind: rachel and i, in my bed, in my room, purple walls and polaroids and ropelights. “i’m not trying to put a label on you or anything, i just kind of think you’re a lesbian. you just say things sometimes, and you’ve sort of already propelled yourself into the gay community, and even though you’re scared and anxious about this being so new and about figuring out your sexuality, you’ve been almost completely at ease with me.” and that’s all true. so there’s that. it's funny, i think some things would make a lot of sense if that happens to be the case. i don't need to figure it out right now, or at all really, it's just scary to feel like i'm free-falling until i do, you know. anyways. i listen to broken social scene all day most days because it reminds me that i’m falling in love with her. and it’s scarier, much scarier than i expected it to be, for a lot of reasons, although i feel like if i were to list them all they would just sound like excuses. because frankly, understanding why i'm scared doesn’t actually mean that i can change how i feel immediately. i know WHY i’m acting like this, but it’s mostly from years of conditioning and not from any cognitive errors or anything. but i can feel that i’m close. the other night i was sitting in my bed, alone for the first time in weeks, rocking back and forth and listening to music that made me the person i am today, and it felt so tangible, as if i were to just release my hand from whatever the fuck is holding me back i would just be there. i feel like this is the first time i’ve been so afraid of something so good. part of me is afraid that she’s too good for me. not that it matters. how do some people do this wish such ease? i'm in a good place in my life, getting things all figured out, but i feel like i'm struggling in myself so much more than i have been in a long time, just because i'm growing and sorting and learning who i am. i just when i thought i had it all figured out.

anyways, i'm working on this new project. not much of a project, really, just an effort. to just sit an feel, really. to just recognize it and try to embrace it. i just feel like it's too easy for me to just push away my feelings, or sometimes to not even notice them just because it's less emotionally exhausting. i just feel like so many other things, being close kinds of things, would be so much easier if i were just able to express myself the way i want to. do you know what alexithymia is? i'm alexithymic, i am sure of it, not only because i have a terrible case of intern's syndrome and i am absolutely textbook definition even if it is only a personality trait, but because of the way my counselor used to talk to me just the way my professors talk about counseling somebody who is alexithymic. do you sometimes feel better when your problems fit in a box like that?

anyways. home soon. i am looking forward to it, really. as much as i love this town, i feel like i need a break. this quarter was exhausting. and i miss my mom.
ready made

(no subject)

what?


it is entirely too chilly in this basement, i don't think one's fingers should be cold and numb in august. this month at home has gone by so fast. the peach farm has been good, i really enjoy all of the people i work with. i actually think i will miss it all. i have a big fat crush on one boy, who wears thick rimmed glasses and plays piano and has kind of a lisp and beautiful hands and a little belly and is majoring in sociology and is kind of goofy and sweet and is wonderful with kids. i don't actually get crushes on people often, so i feel pretty much silly and creepy, but i guess that's how it goes. i laugh an awful lot when i'm at the peach farm, although really i probably laugh an awful lot everywhere i go. i am even one of those people who laughs when they are all by themselves. i am mostly good, most of the days, but i've had those moments where i completely lose it. they are more intense when i'm here. everything reminds me of something with somebody, and it's harder to breathe here. i am going to see hellogoodbye and limbeck and fun tomorrow. i am so looking forward to it. that fun ablum, aim and ignite, has probably turned into my album of the summer, and it is so beautiful and orchestrated and it makes things feel like they will be just fine. i haven't been to the hawthorne theatre since spring break, i think, and i think even just that will be nice. that place kind of feels like home. my mom and i went to the portland art museum this week. i've actually been there so many times that i've lost count, i even remember going when i was nine, but i don't ever remember going to the modern art side of the museum. it was so lovely and refreshing, but i couldn't explain why. we were there until closing, and the whole place was empty, and i saw an original duchamp. i think my mom appreciates that she can talk about art with somebody who sort-of gets it, or at least knows names. i probably only know names. i've been watching a lot of fat representation on television lately, it makes me feel kind of happy and kind of upset at the world at the same time. that's fine, i think most things do that to me. i don't even know where i'm at with that one boy. things are strange and off and i feel kind of anxious about it, but in the way that i'm used to feeling anxious. the way that i know i did it to myself, so i can't really complain. i've been there before anyway. it would have been, or i guess it would be, nice to see him when he is so close and visiting portland. and i hate that i am waiting for him to be the one to say okay, i am going to come see you, before i feel alright saying hey, i'm going to come see you. i think i realized this week that there are two kinds of people, the ones who just put themselves out there and the ones who wait until it feels safe. it felt kind of profound at the time, but i may or may not have been under influence, and clearly it sounds dumb now. haha. it is taking some getting used to seeing this big tree on my arm every time i see myself. i love it. i am so ready for fall weather. i am so ready to be in the new place with naomi! i am so ready to be back in classes. i am ready to start fresh, whatever that means.
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