Tonight, I dress up as Elastigirl and

go to a party of a bunch of real graduated people who work on gay rights. Yesterday, our campaign won its first victory and I turned in probably the worst Wellesley paper that I have ever written. I might not be falling in love, I can do 5 pullups, 7 on a good day, and…

s.p..a…c…..e……………… [part the first]

My birthday gathering has wound down a bit by now. The background noise from adjacent conversations is no longer shout-inducing. People have relaxed beautifully into each other despite (or perhaps because?) of the fact that they’re wearing ridiculous outfits and drinking hard apple cider on a cool Saturday September evening. I find myself standing in…

Cotton-Eye Joe, bell hooks and National Coming Out Day

It’s National Coming Out Day and all of these self-prescribed labels zinging around the internet are making me anxious. Labels feel like the women’s shirts with shoulders too narrow for actual upper body strength and the undressing stares of lounging men as I walked Valparaíso’s streets. Labels feel like the first time I put on…