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2/23/11 07:22 pm - Three months later, like a boss


12/24/09 05:02 pm

Happy Birthday Jesus...

... you fucking asshole.

12/15/09 02:37 am

whoah livejournal. Longtime no see.

Anyone still read this shity anymore? I think I'm low on places to vent/process. I'm not ready to write much yet. We'll see. I'm smelling a possible small livejournal return coming.

10/1/09 09:38 am - Subacademic paper post oh noes!

I'm posting this paper I'm turning into my Fundamentals of Environmental Design course today because I am motherfucking hilarious. And depressing. Ugh. I don't normally write like this for "academic papers" but I think I needed some catharsis after a summer of reading derrick jensen. its also just a 1-2 page response paper to some readings, probably worth 0.5% of my grade, so even if my teacher decides I'm a moron I'll have plenty of opportunity to recoup the grade.

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7/12/09 03:26 am

im drunk. I'm in love with someone i can't have since they live across the country. (maybe love is a strong word but goddamn) and there are girls throwing themselves all over me at various dance parties I may or may not have been to tonight where there is one person I'm still seeing, another person I'm sort of still seeing flirtatiously at least, another person I'm definitely actively seeing and two girls I made out with.

My life is fucking strange. Fun, but strange. What the fuck world?

7/7/09 11:47 am - A lesson in dirt

Dear Livejournal,

There is something wonderful about a week in the woods, something purely primal. Beyond all the workshops I attended, the climb training, the brutal trial and error process of learning how to set up a conflict mediation and advocacy team, I learned something new about loving myself. Or maybe I already knew this from traveling, in any case I was reminded that if you spend enough time away from proper civilization you begin to be more free of its self-limiting constraints. I am dirty. Despite having showered twice since returning, it will be a few more showers before I wash the woods away from my body, and I am in no hurry. The elements of the cascadian landscape so thoroughly blended onto my face, legs, hands and hair I became just one more animal moving about in the woods. An animal, admittedly with a great deal of baggage, a tent, and a coffee and nicotene addiction.

I think it is incredibly powerful to spend time away from mirrors, and to allow yourself to roll in the dirt for days without washing, without "renewing." If washing is renewal, what are we renewing? Our vow to chastity? To civilized "humanity"? It is a good thing to challenge. I have not vowed off styling my hair or picking outfits based on criteria other than utility, but I am powerfully reminded that all is not what we make it to be. There can be more, but by more I mean less. Less of everything we associate with the urban environment. Less pollution, less concrete, less smug judgmental fashion-whoring, less self-flagellating nihilism. We can do better. We are doing better.

My week with ecodefense warriors, poets, queers and radicals of all stripes in the woods gave me something camp trans has failed to do: Intense political inspiration. I love CT and value it as a powerful healing space for transfolk, but I want more than healing for myself.

I learned a ton of useful tools, and got to climb and descend fifty feet or so in a tree hanging from a rope and harness. I had crushes for sure, but one of them I really connected with in a way that's left me shaken. I'll call them "Potter" here, Potter is hella amazing. I feel like trying to describe exactly how so would trivialize them. So I'll leave it at hella amazing. Potter is a badass punkish travelling kid who taught me how to play "Caleb Meier" and then we kissed forty feet up in a tree for the first time. It was a little epic, if awkwardly orchestrated. Potter is genderqueer in a totally complimentary way to how I am genderqueer, I think. They identify more or less as F to M to F and/or F - fag/twink etc. Queer. queer. queer. I'm not in a good place to deconstruct the genderedness of our connection, and I probably wont ever, but I'll just say it was good to have a romantic connection be as genderfluid as I feel in myself.

Of course falling for travelling kids is dangerous business. Potter left the gathering with a promise (maybe?) of looking me up in portland, but declined exchanging concrete contact info. The reality of having a few days of intense connection with a person and then having them leave quite possibly never to see you again is harsh, but a learning opportunity. What do I want from partners, lovers, friends? Where is the line between what I need and what I want? Regardless of the outcome or whether I ever see potter again, I had this profound and valuable experience.

How do you learn to just value your experience without necessarily expecting more? I think the hopeful ache in my heart is just that. Learning. Growing hurts and I am overloaded with emotion thinking about that whole week. A lot of love, lust, crying, inspiration, daring and fury.


6/11/09 01:42 am - I'm sorry livejournal.

I'm in love with facebook. I know our relationship has suffered, I hope you'll understand that this is what I need right now.

yours truly,


5/28/09 10:56 am - shameless

Any of you queers got Melissa Ferrick's Drive? I want to put it on a "squishygirlsex" mix and I need it. Help!

5/27/09 06:12 pm

+++poetry night at The Mississippi Co-op+++

come share your own poetry or bring your favorite poets to read at an informal gathering of word-lovers. no mic, no stage, just space made for expression and mutual respect. No one has to read, but everyone has something to share. No theme or style constraints, but we are a feminist, anti-oppressive space.

This gathering will also be a snacks/dessert potluck so get cooking!
questions can be sent to kateofeugene@hotmail.com

Saturday May 30th, 6:30pm

5/17/09 11:41 am - I should be doing other things...

But I am so in love with the weather today, and also: Adrienne Rich's poetry. Today is another date day with Studio girl. There is no plan, just bike rides and adventure. We'll see. Anyone have amazing suggestions for what we should do?

Moth Hour by Adrienne Rich
Space mildews at our touch.
The leaves of the poplar, slowly moving --
aren't they moth-white, there in the moonbeams?
A million insects die every twilight,
no one even finds their corpses.
Death, slowly moving among the bleached clouds
knows us better than we know ourselves.
I am gliding backward away from those who knew me
as the moon grows thinner and finally shuts its lantern.
I can be replaced a thousand times
a box containing death
When you put out your hand to touch me
you are already reaching toward empty space.


*Update* Studio Girl is sick, so I am riding out to her house, and probably cooking her soup and being sappy. I think I might also be getting a little sick... again. After weeks of it! And poor itchy sleep! Needless to say there will be kissing involved no doubt, and thus germ-share danger. Meh. I live a life of danger. I don't wear a helmet. Bring it on world.
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