[militant?]quack(&)bleer

first night back on campus was spent nursing 40s and talking loudly about popcorn and other non-important things that i can't quite remember.

first morning was spent productively. got an appt for therapy, talked to linda abt moving off campus (although that's still in the air. if she says no then i have to leave hampshire. im still praying on it). TAed a TO class, and am very tired. worked on the script (or at least thought abt working on it). soon am going to dinner with an old high school friend who i haven't seen in years. i am very nervous. i'm definitely not the same person that i was 4 yrs ago, and i doubt he is either.

here's a monologue i'm working on. i still need to create mammy's monologue, but this is the main character, Adanne (meaning resembling the mother- playing around with the names :-/) talking to the human-sized mammy statue abt relationship type stuff. also sort of talking abt issues with expressing femininity. obviously semi-autobiographical.

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when i was in high school, i was in love with my best friend. it's not a very original story, but it's true. i feel like every lesbian is in love with her best friend at one time- it's a rite of passage. anyway, she was beautiful. blue eyes, thick brown hair. big boobs. she taught me how to roll a joint, and how to apply eyeliner without looking like a hooker. she also taught me that itwas okay to be myself. that liking girls was okay, and that it drove boys crazy. one day afterschool, we sat in her attic listening to the dead kennedys on cassette tape. she turned the volume real high and asked me if i had ever kissed a girl before. she told me that she had- lots of times, and that it felt good because it was softer, and sweeter. the night she told me she thought she might be a lesbian, i wanted to tell her that i was in love with her. but i didn't. she also gave me my first nick name. Mama Danne. she said that i was always looking out for everyone, that i made her feel safe. like a mother. like a "mama". that nickname followed me through highschool. when i got to college, i felt good, like i might have a fresh start. i met my first girlfriend, sarah, in my american lit class first semester. the first thing that comes to mind when i think of sarah is that she was really nice. the second thing is that she was hairy. it was like her body was covered in a soft, mousy-brown fur- her arms, her legs, her upper lip, the space in-between her eyebrows. even her stomach had a trail of brown fuzz that i liked to sniff at and follow with my nose, mouth, lips. we didn't last long. sarah said i was too caring, too protective, too safe. she said that being with me wasn't adventurous enough. that it was like being at home. no one wants to date their mother. so after that, i cut my hair real short. i wore cut off jeans andbound my chest. i took up smoking and af am history classes. i got angry. and white girls flocked to me. i went from mammy to mandingo. and they loved it.