When Faraway Things Seem Close

This post is long overdue.
Originally intended to be a cross-post with Emily, this was written by both of us at various points throughout the 24 hours leading up to Pride Weekend. Intoxicated and driving around my hometown and the surrounding highways aimlessly, we stopped at a CVS to purchase a notebook. And by that I mean I got nervous, shoved two dollars in Emily's hand, and made her go buy a notebook. I don't think we kept this up as long as we intended. Nevertheless, I present to you the chronicle of two really anxious girls overwhelmed by possibility. And Tegan and Sara a little bit.

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June 26 2009 10:30 pm (Emily)

I GOT INTO Katrina’s house last night at 1 am. I went 24 hours without sleep and woke up at 1 pm.

We drove around Rockland aimlessly listening to Tegan and Sara which was so epic it cannot properly be described. We should ideas and dreams and things that would make us happy. I’m having an I-Thou relationship with the road. The roads in America are all the same.

We have the same idols and we constantly bring the conversation back to autostraddle. We auto-dance. We are auto-hot. We are auto-blazed, auto-drunk. We auto-win.

We don’t know how to get there. All we know is that City Girl is the best Tegan and Sara song and it’s possible to be nowhere and not lost at the same time.

The road is magnificent.
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June 26 2009 10:45 pm (Katrina)

WE'VE BEEN ON the highway searching for the overlook for about 20 minutes. It probably would have been only ten, but as I am probably in no condition to be driving, I’ve been going at a steady 40 mph on a 65. This adds a new element to auto-blazed.

I look over at the clock. 10:40. There is so much night to be had. It reminds me of DC, of the apartment, where we’d be too high on uppers to sleep but too stoned to have a real conversation. It’d be 2:30 and we’d feel like the night was so new. 10:40 is so early and I wonder if this is what it’s like to not know you’re young.

If someone asked me how long I’d been young for, I’d say my whole life. If you asked me when I’d stop being young, I would tell you that’s not up to me. When does one stop being young? Do you wake up and know, or is it something that only occurs in retrospect? And if youth is defined by behaviour, I plan to always be young. If growing up means giving up your voice and forsaking your selfish desires , and well... being no fun, then, regardless of the number of years we've actually been around.. well, I’m gonna be forever young. So suck it, Rod Stewart.
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June 27 2009 1:51 pm (Emily)

DRIVING IN THE CAR with Katrina’s parents. We’re listening to The Clash. My heart was pounding at the beginning, thoughts like “holy shit” kept going through my head and I almost forgot where we were going. To be honest, when “Rudie Can’t Fail” came on I felt relaxed, it was a little sound from home, something familiar. Because everything here is new. Every step I take is one into the unknown and it is both exhilarating and terrifying. In fact the past two days have been exhilarating and terrifying and these next two should be so intense I’m expecting my heart to explode at any time.

Except I’ve got this feeling we’re all in this together and together we can deal with anything.

Katrina joked about me sleeping in the car to avoid questions but now her brother is passed out next to me.

We’re about to get on the highway and it’s end to end traffic. My heart begins to pound again. I just want to get there.

I don’t know if the nerves are from pretending to be from Boston and going to AU or from meeting autostraddle and really Riese really. Both options are plausible.

I am having a heart attack again. We are on Lexington.

2:34 pm we are on the corner of Lexington and 56^th.
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June 27^th 2009 2:44 (Katrina)

WE JUST DROPPED EMILY off at Brooke’s which means we pulled off this incredible charade.

Waking up at a quarter to noon and laying on top of the sheets listening to “City Girl” on repeat, we knew we wouldn't be this still again.

Tegan and Sara were singing about me when they said “I know you’re scared even though you say that you’re not”. They know this as I try to stride confidently through my house in my baptism-ready dress and heels, sending secretive, self-assured smirks to Emily, trying to convince her we’ll make it through the car ride.

We will, and we do. Off I go to the house of God.

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Also, if you just read that and thought to yourself, "Well that was cool, but I'd prefer it as a stoner comedy," here's a badly edited video that was never really supposed to see the light of day, due to its bad jokes and continual breathless laughter over nothing.

I'm working on a lot of things right now. While you wait anxiously for them, check out how the rest of this weekend turned out by clicking my link at the top or reading Emily's exceptionally beautiful coverage of the same event. You could also do both.

We're Sorry to Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Programming

This has nothing to do with the Philippines.
I've been writer's blockin' a little lately, and all I have to show for myself is a bunch of unfinished observational pieces (including a sequel to this one) and some uninspired afternoon poetry (actually a great concept if you like irony and facetious postmodern fuckery).

This, like my last post, is going to be sort of a clusterfuck, as my mind has been sort of a clusterfuck.

So I've decided to drop a lexicon post.
And then I realized I missed school a lot. So I'm dropping my first picture post as well.
Hi, I'm Katrina, and I can't focus anymore.

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interrobang (v) – 1. to engage in sexual activity resulting from ambivalent attraction; to commit the act of a questionable hookup. May result from drunkenness, desperation, poor judgment, or Welcome Week at American University.

2. though usually hypothetical, to engage in sexual activity with a person who is contrary to one’s “type.” May result from the same factors as definition #1, but is usually less embarrassing, as individual in question is probably at least a little attractive.

X: So you think she’s hot?
KC Danger: Yeah she’s pretty cute; I just don’t usually dig redheads.
X: So you wanna interrobang her‽
KC Danger: Yeah, I guess.

Origin
In collaboration with X Fantastic Walters

#smallearth (n) – 1. conceptually, a small-scale model of planet Earth. Although the exact dimensions of #smallearth have never been determined, it is commonly accepted that the planet is small enough that such nonsense as 12-hour time differences simply cannot exist, resulting in a cohesive society of #smallearthlings

2. a community that is so small, that it is entirely feasible for all or most of its members to somehow come in contact with each other, regardless of actual physical location; a significantly less lame way of saying “small world, eh?,” a community where an unspoken set of rules/tendencies exist

See: the lesbian community, the AUniverse
Origin
In collaboration with saintmodesto

AUniverse (n) – the self-sustaining microcosm existing at American University, also known as “the AU Bubble,” an example of #smallearth. Katrina Fucking Casino lives here. Rules of the AUniverse include: I’m-making-out-with-you-because-you’re-making-out-with-me, you’re probably gay, let’s get high and talk about gender, sorry I’m crashing from my uppers, Apex Thursdays, drinking on Tuesdays due to classless Wednesdays, and TDR at 2 y/n?

S.W.I.M. (n) – acronym for Straight, White, Ignorant Male, a privileged individual who outright ignores the existence or opinions of women, racial minorities, or gays. Essentially the reason you felt really uncomfortable during high school, that guy who keeps making ignorant comments in your gender studies class (what the fuck, why is he even in this class?)

50s House Dyke (n) – a lesbian who aspires to be a traditional stay-at-home mom. A 50s house dyke is not an assimilationist; rather, she is a well-educated, articulate feminist who simply chooses a domestic lifestyle

In collaboration with ilikeyourshirt
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Oh hey, remember that time I was short-haired and freshly pierced?

We were alone for the first time

And in love with everyone we met.

We were so curious about each other

That we forgot to wonder about ourselves
And who we'd be in a few short months.

So...

We got drunk

In public

A lot.

We got drunk in public a lot.

And no one ever slept alone.

I am sometimes embarrassed because I'm prone to getting really emotional (ex. short-term nostalgia) late at night, but for everyone else, it's just the middle of the day.
This would never happen on #smallearth.