After a bit of nuttyness trying to find a place (the dog bite didn’t help assure me), i found the most amazing people and the most amazing home… I will be living in the Castro in the living room of a place on the third floor on a hill overlooking the city with sun-facing rooms. I will be living with three rad queer girls (one of whom shares my birthday) in a gorgeous apartment with dimmers in every room, a living room with bookshelves built in, a dishwasher and a garden! Plus, there are three precious kitties (and two goldfish, one of whom is named Calculus). YAY!!! [Oh, and for fun, we all met at Fairy Butch‘s Hannukah Hoedown.] YAY!!!!!

Cunundrum. The vernacular approach to “Happy Thanksgiving” is “Celebrate life and love with family and friends”. Yet, Thanksgiving is a holiday based on destruction, death and imperialism. What does it mean to be a holiday? To celebrate these values? I hadn’t really remembered that Thanksgiving was approaching, because i never actually wish anyone a Happy Thanksgiving, partially outta frustration that i see that day as my birth day and therefore refuse to give it the violent inscription, since i need to own it for my own sanity… But then, at last night’s Ani concert, some punk ass screamed out “Happy Thanksgiving Ani” and Ani stopped singing and said “Imagine living in a country where our holidays celebrate life instead of death.” Of course, this made me smile, because i couldn’t agree more.

And now i’m faced with a situation. I need to tell 1000 people that we’re not going to be doing our normal weekly thang because of the holiday, but how do you politely and respectfully say what the vernacular means without implying the historical insensitivity?

After spending a glorious weekend relaxing in oblivion, i ventured up to New York city as it seemed all too timely that my favorite musician and fabulous ex-housemate were playing a show together on my birthday in a town nearby. But what an odd show to see. Erin was fantastic and she looked great, smiling and all. I wanted to say hello but it was awefully awkward to do so, as i felt like i was some oogling fan; i think that i should just keep my fond memories of our adventures and wait until our paths cross in natural un-power-dynamic kinds of ways. As for Ani…. damn that girl is hurting and seeing her on stage was almost painful. Her suffering and loss of control over it comes through both in her vibe and her music. Eek.

More horrifyingly was the audience who failed to comprehend the situation with which they were presented. They acted as though it was there concert, calling out to her at inopportune times (a.k.a. any time that she breathed or was otherwise silent or quiet) to ask for a specific song or tell her they loved her. It was as though they thought that their interuptions would make her love them back? As though a boy honking at a girl on the street will make her come running and profess love. And since when did an entire audience go to listen to some asshole sing over Ani’s lyrics and control the direction her song takes? After years of doing this, Ani handled it with ease, but still it made me cringe the whole time. Or the two girls who refused to sit down in an all-seated theatre, inconsiderate of other listeners. This is precisely what makes me despise fans, particularly Ani fans. How can someone listen to her music and then be so inconsiderate of others, of Ani’s role as performer? I hate seeing the obsession and control that fans have over these environments, as though the event is about them, not about her. ::sigh:: And people wonder why i don’t go to concerts or why i refuse to publish anything more than Ani’s lyrics on my site (which btw has gotten way too popular for absolutely no good reason…).

… conference photos emerge of you and you don’t really remember when they were taken. That’s right: CSCW2002 was a blast, although i’m still not sure of how i feel about conferences held in New Orleans: recipe for disaster. But each day i woke up, had my brain tugged and prodded and then found myself relaxing to the New Orleans atmosphere and then finding Hurricanes everywhere. Free ones too. Dangerous dangerous.

Our workshop turned out better than i could have expected. 12 attendees, all rather rad folks and genuine discussion. Sure, like in all workshops, we did not get as far as we would have hoped, but i can’t complain because it’s been my experience that making connections far superceeds functionality in these situations and this was just a rad group for getting into challenging conversations.

My brain is definitely spinning from (both the alcohol and) meeting amazing people who reminded me that 1) school can be inherently amazing and 2) i am still a capable human being. Oh, and plus, so many people told me that i look so much calmer and less insane (ha! little do they know!) It’s true though – i’m smiling again…

Now.. must get back into school…

Oh, and as a side note, Stewart Brand is even cooler now that i’ve seen him speak, and he was pretty amazing as a textual figure before. Of course, i’m totally biased because 1) his introduction focused on his life with Ken Kesey and other heads and 2) he didn’t take himself seriously.

It would humor me greatly to think that the thieves who stole my cribbage board from my trunk play cribbage, but somehow, i kinda doubt it. In fact, they probably just took it thinking that it would contain CDs, but little did they know that they would be forced to learn a fabulous snotty game!

So, i had my goodbye party and it was so much fun to hang out with folks that i love and just laugh and be silly. And one friend made liquid nitrogen ice cream which was fantastic! And then i ran off to New York in theory to go dance, but in reality to have a very enlightening and well-needed conversation in gaia time. And of course, my car got busted into, which is annoying but not all that surprising. And of course, we had nothing in it in preparation for the likelihood that they’d see outta state plates and break in. But all they got was my change of clothes and my beloved cribbage board which we replaced shortly later (in a non-CD case format). And then i had one of the most lovely chill-out times that i’ve had in a long time… mmm.. connecting with people is good. So i’m very happy and ready to go off and away and start a new and refreshed life in the land where i won’t need my heavy winter coat since it was stolen anyways..

I went to bed horrified; i woke up crying as NPR articulated all of the ways in which we are becoming a society in which i have no interest in associating myself with. A Republican House & Senate??? Mitt Romney?? Mandating English-only in classrooms? Female candidates lost almost everywhere (and Hawaii gets a Republican one!). All major drug reform laws shot down (even those that would have instituted rehab over jail). At least there were two smiles: Rendell in PA and Cicilline in Providence. But dear god, it’s been a painful morning and i’m way to emotionally involved with politics.

Must remember: a grown-up activist no longer gets angry or depressed, but just finds everything in life absurd. One day i’ll be there..

Ok… at 11PM last night, i had reached a breaking point. I had been working my toosh off in a freezing cold apartment to help get a feature launched for the lovely V-Spot. My body ached and screamed at me: all it wanted to do was dance. Well, you can’t dance in Boston most nights, which was where i happened to be located. So, with a little bit of begging and a complete dump of my *entire* car, i grabbed my dear friend and off we wisked to NYC for the most beautiful bouncing that i’ve had in a long time. The party was located in a beautiful space, on the 9th floor of a warehouse in DUMBO, overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge with 2 story windows that let me peek out and have great conversations with the East River about the way in which life flows. The decos were great, the music was contemplation-style and i was in heaven. I bounced, watched the sun rise, floated around and did spirals with my friend. Then, with the party over, we drove up 15 on an unbelievably beautiful day, seeing the magical fall leaves in all of their red/orange/yellow glory. Still not exhausted from seeking adventures, i donned a skirt and we went off to play in playground land, acting like little children, so excited about everything. We swang on swings, walked the railroad tracks, played cribbage and saw Spirited Away before finally reaching the point now of sheer exhaustion. But OMG was it a magical and most wonderful adventure!!!

Ok.. so i never remember my dreams, which is why i never recorded them here even though old friends of mine used to use their blog for precisely that. But somehow, today, i managed to actually hold on to bits of mine…

I was standing in line to get Howard Zinn’s autograph. Although i wanted to get it on People’s History, i only had one of a million copies of The Vagina Monologues on me, so i planned to get his script there (which is weird given my reasoning for getting authors’ signatures). When i got to the front of the line, the book’s cover fell off, but he signed it anyhow like it was no big deal. And then he started giving me advice about life before he was joined by James Bond who was also giving me advice. Somehow everyone else disappeared and we all got into this really fascinating discussion about the meaning of life. Then, we were outside of the school hall where signatures were happening and were on a cruise boat and Zinn and Judith Butler were sharing a cabin and trying to get me to join them for lunch, but somehow i was busy and had to go….

When i woke, NPR’s Connection was just starting a piece on James Bond… I wonder what other NPR discussions i slept through (luckily there were no sniper conversations in my dream).

This week’s Village Voice Horoscope reads like one of my Zen tarot cards… Interesting.

I’m going to suggest an “as if” exercise, Sagittarius. It’s meant to take place entirely in your mind’s eye and most definitely NOT be acted out, at least not yet. Here’s my proposal: Spend four days imagining what your life might be like if you decided you were no longer saving yourself for a mythical “later.” See yourself doing exactly what you long to do most, passionately carrying out the mission you came to Earth to accomplish. During this brief sabbatical, you will banish all excuses about why you can’t possibly follow your bliss. You will act as if you are aligned with the heart of creation-as if you’re a genius in love with your life.

For the last year, i haven’t been able to see a friend or family member who hasn’t made some comment about my weight. My old roommate was the only one who was humorous about it – “i’ve seen 80% of you; where’s the other 20%?” Most of my friends get uber worried, telling me i look skinny, while others, including some of my family members say i look great and refer to my college days as my fat years. Realistically, i don’t think my weight has changed that much – i just started actively dancing and bouncing around instead of vegging in front of the computer.

But then i came back to my college town, good old Providence, and have proceeded to gain at least 5 pounds in the last week on my traditional food tour. I mean, no wonder i gained an absurd amount of weight in this town – the food is !fabulous! Now, i should point out here that i despise eating with an adament passion… it’s just something i have to do on a daily basis so i do it with much frustration. But in Providence, i love eating… and i find myself waiting until i can bear to put more food in my stomach before going on to another one of my favorite restaurants… So far this week:

Geoff’s: my favorite sandwhich shoppe.. mmm.. the Juggs – hot turkey, special sauce, cranberry sauce, bacon, lettuce and other extras on a bun. This restaurant used to be comprised of all of these really bitchy boys who would give you shit the moment you walked in the door, which of course i loved… It gave me someone to argue with without getting into any trouble because if you were a big enough asshole back, they gave you your sandwich for free.

Nippon/Sakura: my favorite sushi restaurant. They serve non-fishy miso soup, amazing seaweed salad, hot edamame with the right amount of salt, and the best sushi bit ever: temporahed yam in a maki.. damn is that good.

Bagel Gromet (Gourmet): you got it – a real NY bagel toasted with their own garlic & herb cream cheese…

Cafe Dulce Vita: Copa Maria 1 – a hot peanut butter and chocolate brownie with vanille gilato, complete with an atmosphere that Buddy would be proud of… I mean, where else but Federal Hill can you hear full on mafia talk outta people my age wearing tuxedos and sporting some major attitude? It’s like you walked into the Sopranos and it’s just too entertaining. Oh, and don’t forget the pear nectar or the vanilla milk..

La Creparie: a crepe with nutella and bananas topped with powdered sugar…

Oh.. and then there are the falafel places, the breadsticks at the CIT from the evil corporation (only in Providence though), the yumptious pad thai, the fried pita chips that i can only find in Store24 on Thayer Street and quite a few other delectables. So my tummy is puffy and pleased and needs to leave Providence before it explodes….