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Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

will you guys please please pleaaaase throw another rodeo disco party at this year’s pride? I had SO MUCH FUN LAST YEAR SRSLY

YES I HAD SO MUCH DRINK LAST YEAR SRSLY. But there were not enough people there. This year there has to be twice as many people. Can you do that for me? Two of all persons! If so, I say yes. Yes, June 27th at nighttime we are having a party but that is all I can tell you about it right now. the rest is a secret.

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when can we read your review of emily gould’s and the heart says whatever? any other reading suggestions (that aren’t on the feminist-book list)?

i was writing it today actually! i keep wanting to make it into something else. it has given me 50 ideas of topics to write about and i need to figure out which of those topics fit into a story called “and the heart says whatever: a book review.” but i’d say today i was very close to breakthrough when alex’s mom said it was time for ikea meatballs and potatos, and then my flow was fucked up. i hope tomorrow i can finish it, if nothing else comes up. read “my misspent youth” by megan daum, or “like life” by lorrie moore or “bad behavior” by mary gaitskill or “two or three things i know for sure” by dorothy allison, for starters

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formspring.me
There were plenty of opportunities, plenty of perfectly reasonable reasons, for us to split up during those first few years together. We ignored them. Partly because it was almost unimaginably scary to be navigating what we were navigating – being nineteen, twenty, twenty-one in a giant place that manifestly did not care whether we failed or succeeded – on our own– and partly because we were in love.
Emily Gould, “And the Heart Says Whatever”
“Because "normal” people don’t have to think about being normal, they don’t shirk from evincing the occasional bit of “abnormalcy” (odd opinions and behavioral quirks) that, to a person like me, seem a dead giveaway. So I experience less freedom and act even more rigidly than the average “normal” person. In addition, the effort to mimic normalcy distorts it, if only by the self-consciousness one brings to what should happen effortlessly, as when one tries to feign “sincerity” by gazing into someone’s eyes. So when I evince enthusiasm for something I feel no enthusiasm for, I may exaggerate (I am, after all, an actor mouthing words that are not mine), or pick the “wrong” aspects of an experience to become enthused about, or something else will give me away—so that the falseness of the entire enterprise is quickly exposed.“
Jane Delynn, “The Secret Agent”