11/28: "Faaaan-ceeeee!"

-I've been home with Mags for Thanksgiving in the Bahston Metro Area, which has been too much fun (and too much awkward time with the Duffies. We went out Bah-hahpping, first to Not Your Average Joe's in Acton, which is kind of like if Yuppies took over TGI Friday's in a violent coup, and then to the Rosebud Diner in Somerville. The Rosebud, a little boxcar diner oft-favorited in local magazines, apparently, had the Disney Channel on, but I realized soon that there are few things I'd rather do than watch Hannah Montana while bathed in the neon pink glow of diner signs with an overpriced soco in my mitt.

11/24: "That's not what you want to hear from a scientist."

-Yoko bought pizza for the ceramics studio around 10:00, which was amazing. The thing is, I ran out of clay around 9 and didn't have any other work with me, so I just went up to men.nem.op and read an amazing old copy of A Streetcar Named Desire, which I have never actually read or seen before in full. Surprisingly affecting. I think I'm going to start calling people "Tiger."

11/20: "'Happy Feet' is a terrible, terrible movie."

-I took a nap in Audrey's bed this afternoon, and dreamed about living in Welling again.

-Also, I know this isn't part of the "best thing" spirit of the blog, but maybe it is: I had a lot of good cries today. My amount of crazy shit going on in my life meter is definitely in the red zone, and on top of that, today is the Transgender Day of Rememberance, where we trannies look back and think about all the transpeople (largely transwomen of color) who have been killed in hate crimes over the past year, and think about how fine a choice it is to go ahead with transitioning even though it makes you 12 times more likely to be murdered. Holy hell, right? But I've been crying a lot, which is arguably better than being an unfeeling robot.

11/19: "Or what if you just shattered the gun on the edge of the table and STABBED them with it?"

Plenty of good things have gone on in the past month, but I'm not even going to attempt to catalogue them all. But here are some extra-special things that happened today:

-Chicken tenders, my secret weakness, made an appearance in the dining hall. I ate six, and I'm not even kidding.

-At registration, everything fell into place, which gave me hope after a term of mediocre classes and even more mediocre performances in said classes (today Carol Pal pointed a witchy finger at me and yelled "M.I.A.!", which really attests to her being fantastic more than anything.)

-I went to my trans therapist lady, and it looks like she might be coming around to writing me a perscription for man-juice sooner rather than later. I think it's because I told her that I would be thrilled to have a receeding hairline, which is actually true, oddly enough. Also, Hannah Torkelson was in the van when I got a ride back, so I got to blather with her about senior reviews instead of having my weekly awkward post-therapy chat with Bill the Van Driver (I think he thinks I go for physical therapy for my ankle; he keeps saying things like, "So, can you kick a field goal yet? Har har!" I usually say, "Looks like I'm benched for the season.")

-I spent all evening being more of a geek than usual about internet testosterone research instead of writing my M.I.A. paper for Ms. Pal (it's actually about Martin Guerre, not M.I.A.)

-Nedjo demanded via facebook that I start blogging again. I didn't even think he remembered who I was, not to mention that he read this old thing. These days I smoke alone in front of VAPA, and I miss your monotone complaints about the stupid bitches in your playwriting class, old friend. Hats off!

Now perhaps I'll think about that paper.