little boxes of life

I’m not sure if I should be amused or appalled that my first set of boxes has already been filled with comics and books. Certainly shows where my values lie… Everything else can be tossed. Even a few books. And I think about how many books I gave up while in VA.
..at least my Tetris skills are coming in handy.

And now, a note on Axis:
Axis has been one of the best things of my life. One of my favorite things to go to as well as one of the things I actually allow myself pride. Creating this event with Libby has helped to solidify the community in Bloomington (and surrounding areas) that really just needed a focal point. An Axis, if you will. Which is not to say that Axis isn’t as kick-ass-amazing-epic as it is.

Why am I getting so sentimental on you, you ask? Well, I’m moving to Seattle. I start driving January 17th.

And while Axis will continue under new guidance (Adam, your resident DJ; and Matt, your favorite Math Geek; with Libby in the wings), it will certainly change. What matters is that all you amazing people – the people that make up the community we helped give a name to – keep it alive. Keep dancing. Keep talking to each other. Keep sharing music and meeting new people and dropping quarters.

All this said, I’m pleased at what my last Axis will be. January 1st we will have the Ghosts Project back from Atlanta (you remember them, the violin/drums/bass amazing music that we waltzed to at the Steampunk Axis), and Nathan of Abney Park is also returning to play with them. Dark Side Tribal will shake those amazing hips for you again. And – here’s the kicker – it’s a black-tie event. Take that as you will. We’ll provide some snacky-treats, good tunes, and the dance floor.

Come celebrate the times you’ve had at Red and bl00 Axis, and get geared up for the new times you all will create. Give me a hug. And dance. Always.

/cheese

sometimes I wonder how scared I would get at the world if I ever put my head up, looked around. But then I realize I already do that sometimes, and it always ends up ok. Katamari was right : “The Earth really is full of things.”
..take that as you will

all-mighty uterus

So last night was a work party, and there were lots of wimminz about. Interesting to be around such a group of people, with enough sexual tension to build a suspension bridge with (maybe the Religious Right would make better infrastructure for our country).

Later in the night, everyone moved to the Spoon (of course, we just can’t stay away) and discussion continued. My good friend and co-worker Blaine was there, along with one of his Rastafarian brothers, Anthony. We talked about what it is to be gendered in our society, and what it means to be a woman (after all, I am not used to spending time with women – Red, V, P, etc do not count as female – and I also don’t consider myself to be very feminine). I was a bit too inebriated to wax Constructionalism with any sense to be made of it, so instead we talked about personal experience.

Here’s the thing. I don’t like being a girl. Well, I don’t dislike it, but I don’t like all the baggage that automatically comes along with it (and I know no matter who you are, all sorts of things give you baggage). Especially this idea of growing something inside of me and then pushing it out into the world. It’s creepy. I can’t deal with it. It’s like a parasite.

So Anthony, Blaine, a random guy and girl, and I are talking about this on the porch. And Anthony says “Your gift as a woman is your innate ability to create. That doesn’t have to mean a child.”

It’s the first thing anyone’s said to me in a long time that’s made me not just accepting of my double x’s, but a little proud of them.

I’ll still stick to pursuing androgyny though, because I love throwing people. I love how they correct themselves, embarrassed, after calling me “sir,” and the conversations that ensue when I say it’s ok.

Eep, /pontification

As far as the East is from the West.

Warning : This entry is extremely image and thought heavy

Matt is appropriate Road Trip Buddy material. This means, if shit hits the fan1, things will still work out. We drove the twelve hours to NYC in nearly a straight shot, occasionally stopping to stretch the legs and weird the locals out with Matt’s enigmatic t-shirts and Libby’s hair2

We spent Thursday, Friday, and Saturday until morning in New York City.