The End.

In exactly one week, I'll be moved out of school. Finished with my undergraduate education.

I went to my favorite Susquehanna tradition tonight, Christmas Candlelight Service. Personal feelings about Christianity aside, the candlelight service is a night when I feel the most connected to my campus and myself. It always ends with "O Little Town of Bethlehem" sung while the audience holds candles; the house lights completely off. As the song ended and Chaplain Radecke sent us out into the cold night, I blew out my candle. How symbolic, I thought. The flame that was my 3.5 years here is extinguished.
A lot of shit has gone down here. Both good and bad. But the good has been so very, very, very good. I will miss the fellowship here. I look forward to going to a large research university for graduate school, but there will be a very empty part of me that longs for the smallness of SU. I would love to teach at a place like this. Well, more diverse and with a larger array of majors, but still small enough to know everyone by name.
I also realized tonight that sometime in the future, President Lemons won't be President anymore. THAT'S SO GROSS. I hope he stays forever and pulls a Blessing. Speaking of, I'm going to miss the professors here SO MUCH. They've all played such an influential part in my development; much more than my peers. I hope they all know just how wonderful, insightful, and caring they are.
Maybe someday I'll weirdly be wealthy and I promise I will donate a shit-ton of money. It will go towards building a mosque, gender neutral housing, an expansion of the Women's Studies Program, endowments and grants for serious student research, and of course, a James Blessing Political Science Seminar Room where all kinds of good shit (i.e. movie screenings, discussions, fancy speakers, simulations, etc.) will take place. With leather couches. And a candy bowl that is perpetually filled with Vanilla Midgies.

I love you, Susquehanna. And I'll miss you.

Wednesday afternoon.

I still feel so angry.
And today, I'm exhausted. Don't really know why, but I hope I'm not getting sick.
I think I'm just getting fatigued with this place. I owe so much money in bullshit fines, am feeling insecure about my lack of job offers, and I feel creatively stunted. I've tried to take up so many different crafts, but I always get frustrated and give up. I need a constructive way to channel my anger and I'm having trouble finding one. I don't have enough money to go buy more crafting materials. I can only knit so many scarves. I don't have my guitars here, and I don't like playing Cody's when he's home because I'm always reminded at much more prolific and emotionally freer he is than me. I really want to write, but when I do, I feel like I say the same things over and over again: take, for instance, this blog. I always want to write about feminism, gender identity, what it means to be biracial, all that good stuff. But instead, I just drone on and on about how I don't have a job and how much I hate everything. I'm starting to sicken myself again.

I have exactly one month until I graduate.

I did some networking with DC alumni last night. It was nice, but almost everyone was accounting or business, so they really couldn't help me out. I met a wonderful gal who works at the National Archives and has a friend who is a lobbyist. Both would be fine, so I hope I hear back from her soon.

I didn't realize just how small my bank account is until this morning. As much as I hate money, I'm scared shitless that I'll be starting out on my own with so little money. Again, I have a great support system that will help me out, but I NEED INCOME. I know I have so much to offer; I'm practically crawling out of my skin. But the people on the other end of the email probably can't notice that.

I'm so tired.

Things I Want to Learn.

-to crochet
-bake a pie from scratch
-grow a garden
-cooking in general
-knit socks
-yoga
-how to cultivate my owl collection
-freeganism
-when I'll get a job

Trying to Harness.

I've been pretty decent at controlling my anger and finding a chill zone this past week. I've been really body-positive, relaxed, and able to laugh at everything. But I don't know...something clicked this weekend.
I've been feeling so angry about everything. All the bad things that happened last year are starting to come back into my memory. I'm trying to talk myself down, but all I can think about is taking pictures of certain people, taping them to people-targets at a shooting range and firing until the gun clicks.
I avoid confrontation on an obsessive level because I am completely and totally afraid of the capacity of my anger. When I think about certain encounters or things that have been said to me, I clench my teeth, pound my fists, and have the urge to burn everything in sight to the ground. Everyone laughs at me when I tell them I want them to join me in my anarchist separatist commune, but they shouldn't. They should know that under my sheepish smile, I'm dead serious. I need some time away from everything.
As for right now, I'm dealing well with my combat boots and playing 'Jagged Little Pill' on repeat. But I'm craving for someone, just one fucking person to give me a reason to flip. But as I've learned from peers, most people here are afraid of 'the angry looking chick with the red fro'. I'm gonna take a guess here and assume that things are going to be a lot better once I'm out of here. I know the 'real world' isn't going to be easy, but at least it wont be like the suffocating little bubble.

Just to preface this, I'm drunk

I said
FUCK YOU FLO RIDA
and decided to eat Annie's Organic White Cheddar Bunnies, drink gin, and listen to Ani Difranco.

I feel bad for saying those judgmental things about TYPICAL GIRLS in my last post. Theyt're just figuring out shit too. I just have some class issues that I need to work out. Lets be friends.

I REALLY MISS THE DAYS WHEN I WORE HIPPIE SKIRTS, LISTENED TO NOTHING BUT ANI DIFRANCO AND READ BELL HOOKS.

I really fucking 32 flavors and then some.. She fucking changed my life and I know that's trite to say, but it's true. I saw her in concert for the first time in 2004 and I fucking died.


DEAD.



I WANT MY PERIOD TO COINCIDE WITH THE MOON.



I want to hug Kathleen Hanna and not feel scared when I walk home alone at night because I was born with a beautiful cunt that men want to destroy.


I wish girls here felt the same way. I wish I felt a sense of community rather than a sense of competition and snide remarks.
Stop celebrating your bulimia. Stop thinking you're so important. Stop calling everyone else fat. no matter how many times youn call someone fat its not going to make you skinnier.


I HAVE THE DUNK HICCUPS.


I want to start a feminist separatist state where only men like George, Erich, and Cody can be members. I want to feel a real community. I want to know I'm not just a caricature in people's peripheral vision.


SLEEP PLZ.

Musings.

I don't know why, but during my just-thinking times (trying to fall asleep, showering, walking to class, etc.) all I can think about are the nuances of my senior seminar paper and how much I just want to go back to my room and write.
But then when I get the chance, I avoid it at all costs. My first full draft is due tomorrow at noon and I'm still only a little over half way done. I know it's not a huge deal that shit needs to be perfect, but still.

I'm also feeling a surge of empowerment and positive anger inside me. I've given up my ultra-consumerist, slave to fashion lifestyle and find myself much more happy. I'm dressing more masculine, limiting the frills, and walking with purpose. I find myself wanting to challenge things again; to stir shit up. I find myself harboring such disgust for people here, and dreaming of better places. I'm so happy that I celebrate my diversity and don't feel the need to be the same brunette-pearl earrings-north face jacket-leggings as pants-ugg boots-vera bradley bag as everyone else, but still, I find people snickering and sneering at my unmade-up face, thrift store clothing, and mostly my hair. I want to yell "EXCUSE ME for not comforming to your fascist beauty standards. Yes, my hair is natural like this and I like that. I'm actively breaking down the elements of colonization inside of me. I know you know nothing about that since you are a rich white girl from Connecticut, but maybe you could realize that we are adults here and making fun of someone because they are different in ways they cant change is pretty fucking childish.
But it's not all bad. I feel a sense of salvation discussing queer theory and gender roles with Becky/Kelly/Bailey/Tearsa/Dr. Demary. But then I hear another person talking about how they refused participating in his roommate's sex romp with drunk freshman girls because he felt 'under the weather'. And then I want to punch. Everything.
I want to participate in experiments. Like, for a year only reading books by women and music by women. I don't even watch the news anymore; I read Feministing. I want to write papers about people of color in anarchist movements (if there are any still around). I want to transcend certain gender roles in public places and analyze people's reactions. I crave social deviance. I want to yell and stomp my feet and scream I MATTER. I want to hold every young girl in this country and tell them about Victoria Woodhull and Sojourner Truth and how much more amazing they are than Miley Cyrus and all those other girls on magazine covers. How Ani Difranco has your back, not Rhianna. How 'Full Frontal Feminism' is a better read than 'Twilight'. That things always get better. That your uterus belongs to you, not the state.

And how if you don't finish your senior seminar paper you wont graduate in December.

Stolen from Nomy Lamm

In an attempt to procrastinate but still cultivate my intellect, I am going to repost this quiz "Character Development" which I straight up stole from Nomy Lamm's website.

where were you born?
johnstown, pa.

who do you love?
my mom, cody, and the nonbiofam i have created in 21 years.

did you have a cat when you were little?
no, but i got a puppy for christmas in first grade.

who hurt you biggest?
this is a tie between my father and my first ex-boyfriend.

how did you stay alive?
by knowing that time heals all.

what color are your eyes?
hazel.

what color is your aura?
i've never asked.

what color is your underwear?
purple with maroon and coral polka-dots.

how many people have you abandoned?
none that i'm aware of.

what’s your favorite food?
tiramisu.

did you like school?
high school was a horrific nightmare that couldn't have ended sooner. college has been great academically, but less than average in social aspects.

do you want more?
absolutely. i think i was made for graduate study.

what does it mean to be in love?
to feel connected; lifted. to have someone who loves you for everything you are, good and bad. someone who is always in your corner.

do you believe in magic?
in a young girl's heart?

do people think you’re crazy?
yep.

are you?
yep.

how old were you when you realized you’re all alone?
14. my adolescence was a little rocky.

how old were you when you realized you’re not alone?
20

how do you wield power?
being confident in myself. holding my head high. wit.

what’s your favorite outfit?
cody's t-shirt, my dad's old silk vest, skinny jeans, toms.

what helps you sleep?
remembering all the people i love.

what flavors make you gag?
black licorice; fresh tomatoes; perfume (when you spray too much and it gets all up in your mouth)

do you feel beautiful?
for the first time ever, absolutely

are you afraid of the dark?
yes.

do you believe in reincarnation?
i'd like to. but i'm more in support of a heaven filled with john coltrane's music, coffee, and a female God.


BACK TO SENIOR SEMMMMMM.