Also, I'm pretty sure I'm going to start walking around convicting people of the charge of "assholism."

Sunday mornings like this make me feel ok about Sundays ( Read more... )

For historical purposes ( Read more... )

Oats ( Read more... )

Long-term project: learn how to not be crippled by anxiety when trying to take care of basic tasks, like buying train tickets and making hotel reservations. Real people do these things all the time! Get more comfortable with being a real person.

Today I had a meeting about starting up the ex-gay science research again, and it was pretty exciting ( Read more... )

I am only allowed to go back to my bed tonight once I have a thesis for my feminist theory paper. Must stop procrastinating. Must accomplish something. Must get 8 hours of sleep tonight!

Lee is coming again this weekend, which is great. I went to QAC yesterday, which was Terrible. But the dissent-fest after I left with a few people in the middle I ( Read more... )

This Valentine's Day weekend was really wonderful. It really highlighted for me how despite feeling really limited by New Paltz at this point, things are really falling into place for me. I feel good. And even when I'm itchy, it's not to escape who I am anymore, which is an accomplishment I can appreciate. Especially when I look back at how I was a ( Read more... )

It's easy to let myself forget that there are such things as perfect winter Sundays, where it is beautiful to wake up at noon under warm down; to make coffee and toast in a bright kitchen; to talk to friends that are far away in Cairoland; to make soup for lunch and not leave the house; and to read Virginia Woolf by a window. It's easy to forget ( Read more... )

I want to move myself into the Lesbian Herstory Archives. It is the most perfect, warm, well-lit, and book-filled space. Some days the world feels to me like it's opening up just a little bit wider. And that's something to hold onto when this house drives me out of my mind and when New Paltz has me itching to run/ fretting over having nowhere to ( Read more... )

Nothing makes any sense, except for how great the Triplets of Belleville was. If I could live in any animated movie it might be that one, just so I could hang out with those jazz singing sisters and that amazing grandmother, with her whistle ( Read more... )