see how they run

I’m writing to tell you I’m not unhappy. If that’s been a misconception. She nodded grimly when I said I’d been feeling lonely. I don’t know who can sit with me these days, on the kind of benches I sit on. She winced apologetically, “It’s hard when you’re so unhappy.” I was surprised to hear this assessment. I corrected her. I’m not unhappy. I am happy most days. I am just also very sad. I think there’s a difference in being unhappy vs. being both happy and sad at once. I noticed, in that same conversation, how I tend to talk about what makes me so sad. I often outstretch my arm, just off, as though the genocide is in the room with us. Like, hey no sudden movements—the climate crisis, it’s right over there.

It’s been one of the grander discoveries of my life that it seems most people have some kind of brain mode that can numb the sad away. I wasn’t born with that toggle. While we’re watching TV, Puhg will sometimes even reach his paw toward my head and make a “click” sound, like he’s trying to turn it all off for me. But he knows, as I do, there is nothing on Earth that can silence the beehive in there. For the love, I could be on a beach chair in Tahiti and still be consumed by my hatred of capitalism. I say “I could be” as though this example isn’t just an anecdote from three summers ago.

Living unnumbed used to be slightly easier because I prayed about the horrors, which offered me the illusion of control. But now I see prayer as an oppressive tool. Not all the time (gray areas abound)…but in instances of inequality and injustice. In instances when it’s a frilly little sugar pill to make people feel better about their lack of action. In instances when it makes us feel better about what is unnatural to just “feel better” about.

As of late I would describe myself as “haunted all the time.” It’s not so bad. I’ve always liked ghost stories. I remember not minding when Haley Joel sees the hung corpse in The Sixth Sense. I used to think I’d turn off the Darkness if I could, god knows I've tried. Recently I wonder if it’s part of the package. I can go sicko mode for hours over school shooting data. I click through pictures of children’s rooms, their little coffins. I read through their parents’ crashed out Twitter feeds. I listen to the 911 calls. At the festive party of course I randomly sit next to the woman whose third grader has recently died, and to be honest it was the best seat in house. I watch looping videos of the floods at that summer camp or ICE raids or interviews with sexual assault survivors. I let rage flow through me, as it has the right to do. This world inspires rage in me, and I won’t pretend it doesn’t. But the only time I think I am actually truly unhappy is when I feel I can’t be myself. And being myself includes speaking my truth. I simply cannot pretend disturbing things aren’t happening when they are. It’s not who I am. It makes me want to die to pretend. So that’s probably where the confusion comes from: I need to express the sadness to be authentic to be happy. This paradox probably explains why, historically, when I am most myself, that is when most people run away.

Some really nice things have happened lately. In mini August alone. Started STRONG with a last minute ticket to see Lady Gaga, one of the top five concerts of my life! Maybe I’ll write a postlet about it. Last Monday went to the basement wine bar to see Bunhead’s set with SW. Laughed in the mood lighting at two girls doing musical prop comedy. Puhg and I saw Weapons in a nearly sold-out theatre. It was an incredibly rowdy room, we were all screaming and laughing and cutting up—such fun. My sweetie has already inflicted two heinous scares on me, inspired by the film. He hit the lights and lunged at me, then a couple days later, he sprinted at me from behind when I thought I was home alone. I wrote something a bunch of people seemed to enjoy. The gal who runs the local shop and I went to lunch so she could tell me about her real life. So our seven year “friendship” is more than “And how are you today? Good?” Sat down at the hip lunch spot with Big Comedian's exec and he kicked it off right away: “How does it feel to be the coolest kid in Hollywood?” I nearly spit my water out, told him I’m not. He was SURE I was being modest. If only he knew! Can you be cool if you’re actually just a sea cucumber who responds to emails efficiently? I wrote a ton of PSAs for a local immigrant collective. I called the White House about Gaza. I got to be in a mini writer’s room for a brand new musical show, and it filled my cup full. Caught a matinee of a Mary Kate & Ashley classic at The Academy Museum. Wrote at the knoll, listened to Knox at the pool. Went on my friend’s podcast and we all laughed until we cried and then they paid me $100. The monthly gab was useful. I walked around the hills for two hours chattering with Snake, pool following. Taylor Swift is releasing her 12th studio album sooner than I thought she would.

you you you broke my rose-colored glasses  / so go play in traffic

saw your face in mine, in a picture by our bedside

songs of this past rotation, last year's list

HOT TO GO -- Chappell Roan

so many places I got to dance! festivals and cemetery movies and in the car and in the mall and at the gay sports bar and with friends and enemies

Espresso -- Sabrina Carpenter

THE song of the summer, I feel like it was always playing when I walked into the comedy theatre, and I loved that

I Had Some Help -- Post Malone & Morgan Wallen

my little morning dance work-outs

Taste -- Sabrina Carpenter

pool afternoons

Constant Headache -- Joyce Manor

stomping around the neighborhood, then screaming it at the Greek

Girl, So Confusing -- Charli XCX & Lorde

one of the most inspiring pieces of art of the past decade!

Apple -- Charli XCX

just great vibes tbh

Michigan, 1975 -- The Gaslight Anthem

the older sound of my grad school band, I'm older also

Final Girl -- CHVRCHES

maj inspo for my movie with AB! often blasted it (or "The Man" driving over to her place)

Ivy -- Taylor Swift

I listen to this song every single time I work on my newest play, sometimes a hundred times in a row

10 Drunk Cigarettes -- Girly Girl Productions

not taking myself seriously, or trying anyway

Dial Drunk -- Noah Kahan & Post Malone

alone in a cottage, at night

Good Girls -- CHVRCHES

angry

Ego -- Halsey

watched the VMAs performance a few times, I think about it often

Don't Take the Money -- Jack Antonoff

shaking serious booty with J, second row, Jack jamming right to us as we jumped

When the Sun Explodes -- Very Nice Person

relaxed, zonked, in the back row then the front row of a movie theatre in Washington

State of Grace -- Taylor Swift

driving before dawn, cinnamon roll in my lap, leaves falling, on our way to hike

Got My Mind Set On You -- George Harrison

for some reason spoke to me, on the radio, after eating a burrito at a folding table

Please Please Please -- Sabrina Carpenter

HEARD A DUET OF THIS WITH TAYLOR SWIFT LIVE IN NEW ORLEANS WITH TWO OF MY CLOSEST FRIENDS I'M WORKING LATE COS I'M A SINGER

Fall -- Something Corporate

my goodness, my band still rocks, I got to sit alone at a tabletop, what heaven

Labour -- Paris Paloma

the election

The Manuscript -- Taylor Swift

all my cork boards of analysis

Hits Different & Welcome to New York -- Taylor Swift

the most blessed mash-up that's ever been mashed! truly hit...different

Colorwheel -- Liz Huett & Pretty Bird

under the tree and dreaming!

Yoko -- Maisie Peters

thinking

Hard to Love -- Lee Brice

enough said

She -- Greenday

something about this, not sure what

Nostalgia -- Suki Waterhouse

while escaping fire

Tubthumping -- Chumbawumba

screaming in A___'s living room, we all know what's happening, what could happen

The Giver -- Chappell Roan

skipping in the cold fields beyond the hospice center

How Bad Do U Want Me -- Lady Gaga

strutting like I'm in a music video when I am, in fact, walking to the grocery store

Eh, Eh -- Lady Gaga

dancing at the club with Grief, cherry cherry boom boom

Vanish Into You -- Lady Gaga

a deep meditation on who or what we all ever are, plus her Coachella videos!

Bodyguard -- Beyonce

loving on my bb hamster and also Queen B at the same time

Sweet Honey Buckiin -- Beyonce

look at that horse, on the very first night of her tour!

Sue Me -- Audrey Hobert

classic TikTok trend melted into my subconcious

Is She Really Going Out With Him? -- Joe Jackson

well, is she?

jasmine in bloom

Spring Formal 2010

In line with last week's bicep explosion incident, last night I danced so hard that I ripped my shiny six buck spring formal dress wide open. Oops.

Here are two photos from before that tragic incident. The two most important dudes of my college career and one cutie peach:




Sometimes I feel like I live in UNION STATION.
Tonight I'll be takin' no calls 'cos I'l be dancin'.