last night i finally figured out how to wear these Dickies overalls i thrifted (denim with this red zip pocket in the front, a size too big on me even after i cut the hems of the pants and cuffed them and pinned them), and so i threw them on with just a white ribbed tank and took the new volume of Dirt Child to Wonderville and sat and read poetry before trying to beat my high score on Trapped in Here With Me.
that bar hosts a lot of shows, many of which are free, and i don’t always watch, but something compelled me last night to rip myself away from Particle Mace and at least stay for the first of three or four bands in the line-up. Low Presh is a DIY outfit with scramz, mid-west emo, and pop punk vibes and a lot of energy for a three-piece group. i considered checking out the other acts (it was all trans girl bands and i love it when other trans people make cool music), but i wanted to get home in time play Yu-Gi-Oh! Legacy of the Duelist, a game i know most people have stopped playing, before going to sleep. if you couldn’t guess, i’m not very good at it.
for the last five weeks i’ve been taking a poetry class—i did a whole MFA in creative writing, but i only took workshops in fiction and creative nonfiction, and more and more over the last few years i have felt like poetry is a correct calling. the class is actually taught by a friend who i met through grad school. she’s an excellent poet and a great teacher, and it’s been really nice to reconnect and build community with other poets she’s taught.
it’s been a time of reunions for me—two friends of mine who haven’t spoken in years are speaking again, which has been lovely. the three of us were inseparable, and over the last two weeks we’ve all hung out twice, once to get dinner and once when i was in the line-up a poetry reading.
June is always so busy. Pride in New York means something every weekend, and i’m almost glad that my Saturday and Sunday plans were thwarted by injury and weather, respectively. my partner rolled her ankle, so instead of going to Dyke March we sat outside and drank Aperol spritzes, and then had dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. what a sweet date. we went to the Drag March the night before with some of my friends, which accomplished a similar feeling, anyway. and when we couldn’t go to Riis on Sunday because our ride (understandably) bailed over the threat of thunderstorms, we stayed in and watched gay TV on the couch until i had to leave for poetry class. we’re going to a different beach together this week.
i am also reading Miranda July’s new book, albeit very slowly, and a few weeks ago when i went to 8ball’s zine fair with a friend, i picked up a GenderFail anthology and this excellent lithograph zine by Margaux Bigou, which i think is out of print. i have a few indie comics and graphic novels on the backburner that i still need to read (i will probably take some time to do it when my partner is away next week), and i have also had DC comics on the mind. i’m a fan of stories that take place in Gotham—mostly i love Harley Quinn—and i’m about three years behind on following the action, but i keep getting Harley and Ivy panels on my Tumblr dash and i'm tempted to start reading again soon.
oh, and i’m getting back into dead mall videos and liminal content in a big way. it’s been a while, and i miss it. as i write this i’m watching the recording of this Contrapoints stream where she plays Pools.
i’m also listening to some dungeon synth.
and i think i'm writing a chapbook?
i wasn't feeling great about myself for a while, or about the state of my life, but it seems like something is shifting a little for me, which is really nice.