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 my hair is now incredibly henna red. I have 1 dreadlock left, symbolizing 1 unit of cultural appropriation, a kind of chunky undercut, which I hope is not culturally appropriative, and hopefully soon new glasses. Wellesley is in the throes of fall colors, the sky is blue, and I am right now watching a lot of people swim laps. The world is full of possiblity, I slept 11 hours last night and 2 the night before. I have decided to take up the spiritual practice of writing “10 things I appreciate about you” cards to my friends, because they deserve it, and I have gotten too task-focused and forgotten what is wonderful about spending time with the people I love. I kind of want to cry right now, and I’m not sure why, perhaps because life is a little bit too much, but in a good way. I have stopped feeling so paralyzed about post-grad things because I think that organizing is my calling. I am reading a book on how to love by bell hooks and another one on peaceful societies by Elise Boulding. I write in my journal every night, and eat scrambled eggs with salsa almost every morning. I am learning how to be vulnerable with people, how to be there with people who battle depression and PTSD, how to give copious amounts of hugs. I am trying to learn how to be simultaneously present with myself and the beautiful humans I am with. I haven’t yet learned how to juggle. I am learning how to say no, and also when to say yes. I am trying to see myself more and more as a person and not a gender. I am trying to love you, even when it’s rough. I am trying so very hard.