I made Kale salad and went to Angelo/Xtian’s show, where I made fun of the pre-set projection-mapping visuals with RJ. I found MC in the Tech Corral and we went out for beer. We got a taster-tray. A woman with an Eskandar shirt from last spring walked out and I noted that it cost around $800, then I described Eskandar’s history as a designer, feeling disgusted at how much I know about things I don’t care about due to being a nerd and having had a job. MC knows everything about ceramics, which is cooler to know about.

Xtian, Angelo, and Sarah joined us. I said Xtian and Angelo looked fresh, Angelo scoffed and complimented my bottle of Gerolsteiner. We all chatted in the parking lot, wondering what to do next. RJ wondered if millennials care about the situation in Palestine. Sarah gave me a ride to my car and we ended up talking in the parking lot. MC texted me: “come over?” and I said “Yeah!”It started raining and we admired the patterns on the windsheild. It stopped raining. Sometime later  I got back to MC “sry me n Sarah r having a  d n m.”


I have been feeling bad about myself for not getting enough done, but working sluggishly on projects nonetheless. I finished archiving/tagging/editing 5-years of my blog, and bought the URL StickyPsyche.com. I got through about half of the MaxMSP tutorials, which are easy – I just have to finish knocking them out to fill any gaps in my knowledge. I can’t work on my computer for about six hours out of the day because the room gets unbearably hot and this has impeded my progress. Other than that I am about a third of the way through Pimsleur’s Italian 1, and have begun prototyping the large scale vapor screen I’ve been thinking of for a while.

Summer weather has me intensely dysphoric. Mom and I talked about hormone replacement therapy. Her position has typically been not to fuck with one’s hormones. I mentioned that our environment is full of things that fuck with hormones and while our family has rarely used any sort of big pharma, we happily self-medicate with coffee, cigarettes and alcohol. She concurred that it was my choice.

I made an appointment with the endocrinologist and she was receptive/respectful. She gave me a somewhat experimental prescription for low-dose HRT and DHT blockers, which perplexed the pharmacist. I explained that it was because I am non-binary, which perplexed the pharmacist. My therapist gave me a supply to start with, which would have cost me around $600 (no insurance until I move to Europe), saying “mozeltov!” The DHT blockers cost $9 – I also bought .98 flip flops, lemons, cabbage, and cashew-based ice cream to celebrate ;)


I went to Keiko’s Gastronomical Society with Noah and we were disappointed no one got our jokes except Rick and Alex. It was good to see Keiko. The sushi, naturally, was delicious. It was too hot. It was too early. We missed MC’s birthday party at the lake anyway – this is sad but also fine because wow I sure h8 my body, which is sad but also fine.


I waited for a $25 $85 haircut (promotion where proceeds went to the interfaith homeless shelter Pete’s Place) and texted Kristen about plans. Then I walked around the mall, found some friends painting a mural, and went with them to a restaurant where I got a shot of probiotics and shilijat.

The head of the salon wanted to cut my hair cuz short hair is her specialty. I said I didn’t care what she did and that she probably knew best. This was true.

I made spicy VLTs and we drove to the lake, where it had just begun raining. We sat on some rocks and ate sandwiches, talking about regressive liberalism.

We had stopped at the Betterday for coffee and people were protesting outside the Co Op. Kristen wondered what it was about “they’re all middle aged and white” she noted, then rolled down her window to ask. Turns out, they were protesting the inclusion of not-certified-organic produce, saying “it’s poison.” “Do you realize your position is racist?” Kristen replied.

The produce in question comes from operations like smaller farms who could not afford organic certification, but who don’t use pesticides themselves, and the Co Op is transparent about all of its sourcing. The implementation of “non-organic” produce provides a lower-cost option, expanding to a wider socio-economic sphere and supporting small-scale local farms. 

Jesse had been crying all day because Kristen was accepted into the Peace Corps and will likely chose to move to Albania for that, but he slowly moved from quiet/sad to passionate about the parallels between Kenneth Anger’s Scorpion and Drive. I learned that he had worked on the camera crew of Better Call Saul, season 2, and asked him about the single shot that took place on the highway with the ice cream truck. He told me about how they built a highway and used special effects to replicate the line of traffic to make it longer, using a crane and steadicam to get the one-take, only cutting at a zoom-in on a cop’s jacket.


Sarah and I went to Currents, when we approached a piece we would do rock-paper-scissors-counting and instead of making the appropriate hand-shape, say the first word that came into our heads about the art. If we both said the same word we took a shot of vodka. 1, 2, 3: Fractals… 1, 2, 3: Projection Mapping…

As with all openings it took us a while to visit much of the art itself. I was watching a (very good) performance with my idol, Juliet Myers, and giving a side-hug to the 15 or so pallies that walked by.  

A group amassed, many of whom had helped to install the show. This got us on the subject of hardware stores, and the Home Depot bucket that had been full of candy at Meow Wolf. The Home Depot bucket is perfect for trick-or-treating because of its color – it’s the adult’s pumpkin-bucket. I joked about going to the hardware store with a pumpkin-bucket, and carving “Let’s Do This” into a pumpkin. Cole and I belly-laughed until we were falling over.

Jess walked by with some cutie and said “hey.” Leo noticed my change in demeanor: “oh those people were cute!” I said it was more painful than that, then “say, remember the last time I was weeping in your arms?” Sarah and I went into a bathroom stall together and drank the rest of the vodka.

Crocket wanted to do something so we went and bullied teenagers at the basketball court, throwing a flip-flop through the hoop. We drove to Noah Devore’s, looking to form a roving-gang, but the lights were off.


Nodia came over for dinner and asked me and Noah about our love lives. Noah talked about being a slut and I talked about being perpetually heartbroken, and not pursuing dating people or even hanging out with them because of unyielding dysphoria.

I then decided that this commitment to suffering was unnecessary, and asked Jessica if she wanted to meet me at the big metal industrial sculpture.  Which we did. And we held hands :)


Standing on the sidewalk outside Eangelo’s, where I’ve never been, where I was to meet Feather for drinks, I chatted with those people on the sidewalk who I knew. I didn’t note the person approaching westward toward our blockade until she was in my arms.

Jessica, Feather, and I went to Duel, drew with crayons, talked about personal histories in caves, cults, and christianity, in and outside queer culture, native culture, etc. etc.

Feather and I are both INTP, we found out, by saying that that is what we are. She said that is the rarest type or whatever, but I heard it is the second rarest type, or whatever. We will collaborate, probably in two years, when we are both deep enough in our fields. I drove the taxi home(s) and Jessica dozed off.

I pushed Jessica’s hair back as it fell across her face. She climbed across the stick shift and centre console. “I’ll see you again before you leave?” I held a quiet giddiness, thinking about how we had kissed in my car as I drove my car home.


I deep-cleaned the laundry room and re-organized the cupboard at mom’s house, getting rid of many tiny mouse-shits, listening to Sam Harris’ podcasts, thinking about AI and the hard problem of consciousness.

When the kitchen was clean enough, I made perfect pizza crust and marinara sauce. A monsoon started and I yelled through the Lizzy Mcguire of Noah’s room to make a pizza-invitation. 

Sarah, Noah, MC and I went outside to admire the rainbow and clouds, along with the rest of Santa Fe.

Sandra and Crocket came with a chocolate cake, which we dug into, carefully avoiding the “MAGIC BLOOD” text rendered in sprinkles.

Crocket, Noah, and I made fun of Game of Thrones.

Sarah, Noah, and I talked until 2.


At Xtian’s tape release, I was the first wet guest to arrive. For the second year in a row, monsoons came early.

Technical issues and I was so thirsty. Rain was strong enough to put out cigarettes but not fill my little paper cup.

Luna, Sarah, and MC came from a party at Buffalo Thunder, filled my cup with wine. Angelo played sweet, his back to the crowd. Xtian did dark and foggy with yelp-jokes and clarinet. Outside, touring act said he would try to ascend to the level or brattiness embodied by the sensitive bros before him.

I joined Angelo on a dance floor of no-kick. Experimental Housewife outdid herself with a non-dance set.

I gave Sarah my jacket, I said I would give Sarah a ride.

Sarah: “What do you wanna do?”

Me: “By gang!”

(Angelo and Luna sitting in a chair)

Angelo got up, hugged me close. Locking eyes and looking away: “When do you leave?” “As soon as my visa comes.” “Don’t go.” “I won’t.” We kissed.

Sarah and I got in the car. Laughed. “I feel like Angelo has been a little flirty toward me.”

MC: “What a fucking psycho.”

Me: “What I should not do is go to the after party at Luna’s”

Sarah/MC: “True.”

We talked about our days and shared the two Tecates that were in the fridge (Angelo moved in… he brought his stuff over…)

Sarah: You’re dying to go over there aren’t you?

Me: “Yeah.”

We met the new neighborhood cat, she was dressed in all black. Read her collar: “Banana”

Sarah and I went home.