REID #84

May 10, 2022

i wonder what this baby’s life wil be like

SHORT:

I’m tired.

I don’t rly feel like doing the newsletter.

I finished my first year of grad school.

The 40 year old hottie on Selling Sunset named Crishell is dating a 27 year old nonbinary TikTok singer/drummer named G Flip.

MEDIUM:

Can you believe the news about Crishell and G Flip?

First JoJo Siwa’s a dyke and now this?

What did I do to deserve such sweet sapphic E! News headlines?

Here’s G Flip performing “Blame It On The Boogie” at New Year’s Eve Sydney 2018.

Look at those shorts onstage... mwah. Stunning. It’s giving me at karaoke in Providence 5 years ago <3

If I saw this video as a youth, I would’ve maybe grown up to be a nightmare or maybe believed in god.

By the way, I love “Blame It On The Boogie” because famous Silicon Valley-based DJ “AJ The DJ” used to always blast it at Bar Mitzvahs.

I wonder where AJ is now…

I wore so many “tunics” to Bar Mitzvahs…

I keep waiting 2 c a subway ad that’s like, “if you wore tunic(s) to Bar Mitzvah’s in the early 2000s, you may be entitled to compensation.”

LONG:

I decided to try and do this newsletter instead of just saying “I’m tired I don’t want to do this this week, read the archives” for every section (genius idea I had 10 minutes ago).

The reason I decided to keep doing it is because my dad sent my a photograph of our 95 year old neighbor mowing his lawn.

If he can do that every few days, I can surely keep thinking thoughts and letting my fingers slam the keys, thrusting letters and phrases onto the digital page with reckless abandon.

I think the last time I truly did something with reckless abandon was when I dressed up in spandex and learned the entire single ladies dance in my friend Eliza’s room and then we recorded ourselves doing it “full out” and then I put down that I “was shy'“ and “interested in biology” on my college applications.

Who was I kidding?

The administrators could smell the slutty sensational spandex sweat thru the computer. I was gunna b a star.

God, I rly do have “main character syndrome” but my character is super undeveloped and just keeps saying “slay” instead of anything of substance.

What else…

My gay senior citizen pen pal thinks it’s outrageous that tickets to Into The Woods at City Center are 400+ dollars and I agree. He has friends in the show but they can’t get him a discount and he said “only way I’m paying 400 dollars is if I get to go home with the lead of the show… I’ll show HIM into the WOODS.”

Then he talked about seeing Funny Girl and how “on the night [he] went, Jane Lynch fell down… I don’t think it was a part of the show… I think she just fell… I was like ‘get up, Jane! … She’s good, but she’s not a Jew”.

On Beanie as the lead, he said: “post-intermission she came out of the orchestra pit, and I thought, ‘oh, she’s trying comedy’… also at one point somebody tap danced but not at a time that made sense to me.”

So now we’ve all basically seen Funny Girl.

In other amazing news, I am feeling very burnt out on writing, and everything I write feels a little stupid and bad and not in the fun way.

I kind of hate everything I turned in this semester, but I think I learned a lot. So that’s good.

I don’t really know what I want to focus on this summer.

At least being burnt out means there was originally a spark or fire or something warm and nice there at some point… right? Gotta remind myself of that!

I think I’m also just a little frustrated with where I am in terms of hormones and transition and my PLACE in this WORLD. I found myself eating a piece of sprinkled chocolate and vanilla cake the other night at an event, listening to myself strain and shout to speak over the noise of the bar, and I just got very weirdly deeply sad. That I was struggling to sound like… whatever version of me… I am rn. And that I’m no longer one of “the girlies” who I’d been interacting with… but I really don’t feel like… a man. Ew. No offense. I shouldn’t say ew. My therapist says not to say ew like that.

WHATEVER.

Sometimes I think the very nature of transness, if really interrogated, means a complete lack of stasis and boxes and labels. Which sucks because then you’re flipping in amorphous space forever with no roots. And that’s not a healthy way to live. So you create anchors. To make life bearable.

And maybe nobody’s cis or binary. Some people are just more able to delusionally hold onto and honor and live with their big heavy anchors. And I can’t.

Does that make sense?

And of course there’s power in not being cis too and seeing the world like a trans person yada yada. It’s not all bad. It’s mostly good. Or like… idk. Good and bad is a limiting binary.

There’s power in flippage and disregarding boxes, but it’s also hard to ascertain what feels viscerally “true” and solid.

Anywayyyy

Happy belated Mother’s Day to my mom who one time in Starbucks drive thru realized Peach tranquiliTEA was a pun while ordering and laughed so hard she cried and couldn’t drive.

C u next Tuesday.