June bugs

"You'll disappear like a June bug in July, I'll be thankful for my time."

At night, I prop my feet against the banister on my porch and let the rain drip down my toes. The cool droplets collect on my feet before meandering down my calves, falling into the space behind my knee, and then down my thighs. Like fingers trailing the contours of my legs, the rain is a sensual presence within my own.

And the June bugs! Dark, full of rich ambers and browns that have an iridescent quality in my streamed porch lights' shine. They fill my ears with little nothings. In the clicks and chirps, I have full conversations with myself like my mom used to when she thought I was asleep and NPR played on the radio. Like a lively friend provoking a deep conversation, the June bugs are a filling presence within my own.

This summer, I have stepped into learning on my own. I moved to a new city where most don't live for half the year, and where people have their own lives and work and have their own friends; the occasional dinner party felt like an oasis in the desert of social abandonment; and real life took precedent over play, most days.

It's scary when I realize how temporary people are. As it is, I tend to build superficial relationships with folks to keep from getting too hurt when they leave (we all leave, sometimes). But when I let people in, and they leave, it feels like a severed chord; a missing finger; and something to be mourned as a loss. The Flaming Lips, though, have a lyric:

"And instead of saying all of your goodbyes - let them know You realize that life goes fast It's hard to make the good things last You realize the sun doesn't go down It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round"

I find that comforting. If not completely upfront about that with every person I meet, I try to remind myself as best possible of that when I start letting someone in.

But the better question is how do you let yourself in? How do you be friends with yourself? Depend on yourself for support, comfort, security, and love? These are those age-old questions that get wrapped in with growing up; the questions we have to answer (or strive to answer) through life and experience; and the answers come more intuitively than given.

For me, I feel my presence as supportive when I lie in bed and grab my pillow to hold onto tight at night. I feel comfort when I laugh and scream at something that just passed through my head, or for tone deafness in the shower. I feel myself keeping me safe when I make decisions about what to buy, where to be at night, and what creeps to avoid. I feel my love everyday when I nourish my body; when I cook myself biscuits; when I smile at something I've said or seen and appreciate it as perceptively independent from my own existence.

I used to have so many best friends, but now I think all I want is one: me. And you know as well as I do that's not an abandonment of people I love and care for as so much a found connection that will never tear, and that I will never loose -- that's special.

Conrad's DO'S:
** HAVE SUSHI WITH PEOPLE YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IN 5-6 YEARS AND END UP SPENDING THE ENTIRE NIGHT TOGETHER.
** GO TO THE CLUB SOBER AND DANCE WITH YOUR SHIRT OFF.
** LAUGH UNTIL 6 AM AT THE SAME JOKE WITH NEW PEOPLE YOU'VE HARDLY HUNG OUT WITH.

Conrad's DON'TS:
** RESPOND TO 2:30AM TEXT MESSAGES WHEN YOU'RE STILL ASLEEP.
** LAUGH OUT OF NERVOUSNESS IN FRONT OF LESBIANS OUTSIDE OF A BAR.
** SASS THE WAL-GREENS EMPLOYEES OVER MANGO ICED TEA.

Is This What Jaded Feels Like?

"Hold up, hold up, wait a minute, wait a minute."

It's the one time the dog bites;

The first time the bus driver gets angry;

When you see your parents fights;

Your heart breaks and a piece of it stays there.

And I wonder, "Is this what jaded feels like? I hope it passes.

I hope I am always able to give away everything

With no expectations

Conditions, --

Ultimatums.

I hope to God my Heart always breaks like this.

That I am always surprised by how cruel we can be,

And how nonsensical we can be, --

And how beautiful we are. Amen.

LEGS

On the back of my quiz, I wrote this poem. My TA and I met regarding my grade, and at the end she asked me if everything was going ok. I said, "I mean, with my life? Yes." She handed me my quiz back, back side up, and said, "Well, I read this, and I just wanted to let you know if you need to talk, you can."

I paused, turned red, and asked if I could take back my poem I thought lost to the recycling bin. She made me a copy, and I thanked her for her concern and outreach. I shared a brief amount, although, always too much in this type of relationship, with what was going on in my life. She said, "We're all in this together, right?"

I think so. I think we can all, to some degree, relate to feeling as if a part of our body is being singled out. Whether that's your crooked teeth, your uneven breasts, your shortness, your tallness, you jaw line, your perfect ass... This is for our brief encounters with our own bodies where we realize a particular part of our bodies is means more.

For me, it's my

"LEGS"


My LEGS code sex -- long and slender stems leading to the cherry on top.

My LEGS code gender -- ambiguous at times. Smooth and attractive, defined and shaped by movement dynamics in a dynamic where they don't fit.

My LEGS code race -- white and pale and full of rose colored privilege that keeps me in a comfortable space where I am isolated, at times.

I never knew how well versed my LEGS were until I walked down the street and all I heard was, “Baby, so sweet!”

Or when I walked into a gas station and eyes became helper-T’s recognizing a molecular invasion of the normalized body.

I could have guessed, but when a man shows his legs and wears the short shorts that I wear, the reactions unleash a script of social rule,

And maybe they are just LEGS -- muscle, flesh sparsely covered in a coat given to me by my master code, by my biomasters whose lives and deaths wrote my legs.

My LEGS are code for the nights in that seedy dark club on White and Llamar pulsing to the music against your legs covered in piss and cheap liquor.

My LEGS are code for the bruises he left on my thighs and the cries I wanted to cry but stayed quiet in the black and blue light.,

And before that, the sweet touches of my mother caressing me to sleep,

And soon to be translated, my legs will code for a love in his eyes when he sees me walking towards him.

CONRAD'S DO'S
** VOTE LIKE YOU MEAN IT.
** DO WHAT YOU SAY YOU'RE GONNA' DO EVEN IF YOU DON'T GET THE WORD.
** HOLD THE DOOR OPEN FOR OLDER WOMEN AND TELL THEM YOU RELATE.

CONRAD'S DON'TS
** USE GIANT TRASH BAGS TO CARRY ALL YOUR CLOTHES ACROSS CAMPUS.
** LOOK AT COLLEGEACB AND EXPECT YOU'RE NOT ON IT.
** DOUBLE BOOK SEX ED WITH YOUR GRANDMA.

Feeling for Roots in Piedmont Park

"I like to get dirty. Do you like to get dirty? I like to cause trouble. I like to cause trouble, but only in the most sweet way."

I make the trek to Piedmont Park most weekends to run my hands through the grass and press my toes into the dirt. In this urban jungle that is Atlanta, my rural East Tennessee spirit finds solace in the slow moving beetles climbing and shifting through the leaves of grass.

When I first came to Atlanta, I searched endlessly, like the beetle, for a place to call home. What I realize now is that no matter how hard you look, you'll inevitably simply sink into comfort. It's the ease at which it happens that surprised me most. It's the folks working at the Mediterranean bodega recognizing me; it's the in depth conversations with strangers at Flying Biscuit; it's the ritualistic spot where I always sit and feel at the roots of trees in Piedmont Park.

It's this sense of belonging that, for me, spurs ownership and engagement. I'm no longer a tourist, but an Atlantian. We hop on rickshaws and careen through Virgina knowing exactly where our free ride is taking us and where it's not. And where it's not taking me, I put in the energy to walk.

I'm taking a graduate course on feminist engagements with synthetic biology and bioethics. Every week we have a speaker, and this week, we welcomed Cara Page, an Atlanta community organizer and feminist-anti-racists-achiever healer. After class, we spoke with enthusiasm about my efforts to settle into this place and my eagerness to do so. At Emory, you get the theory; you get a kind of knowledge that's very useful for writing papers and talking to people and coming up with ideas. With Cara Page, you fuse that knowledge with the knowledge of real people by working with them and experiencing community. With Cara Page, you get a hug.

That's not unlike my work with a fabulous KSU student, Edric Figueroa. Edric found me in Piedmont Park and invited me to join the anti-war protest marching down the sidewalk. He said, "Hand these out!" and immediately I threw myself into the midst of asking strangers if they knew what the federal budget looked like. It's as if I'd forgotten how to interact with people. Do people in Atlanta act like people in Knoxville? To some degree, but the same thing could be said about me.

CONRAD'S DO'S:
** BUY A FLAMING KATY AND NAME HER GWEN.
** SPEAK HONESTLY AND DEVELOP BLUE FLAMES.
** WRITE POEMS ON THE BACK OF QUIZZES.

CONRAD'S DON'TS:
** TOUCH PIECES OF LUNCH MEAT CAUGHT IN THE DRAIN.
** WALK ON WET HILLS.
** RIDE ON BUSES WITH DRUNK EMORY STUDENTS.

Serendipitously Craigslist

"I think we've figured something out if only for a little while."

I know we've all been there. I know that we've all had those moments, maybe weeks or months or years for some of us, where we just don't quite grasp how we could have ever done something so reckless or so unruly, where the reality of the situation, even undramatized, seems like a chapter in one of those memoirs you read and say, "Oh well that's just ridiculous." Now that I'm in college, it happened. We're owning it. We're acknowledging it. We're understanding and processing the absolute preposterousness of it all. BUT -- at least it makes for an interesting story, and it was all so serendipitous.

Let me lay the scene for you; B.L., my roommate, R.B. and K.B., my two new girl friends, and I were in B.L.'s and my dorm. B.L., a true romantic and a beautiful boy, was, in what some would find flirtatiously, talking to an upper class man. Said boy was telling us he wanted to go out, that he'd find a way for us all to go to Jungle, that we were golden. I believed him -- until 9:30 p.m. when we were still in our dorm and he was saying, "I don't want to go, but I'm still going to find a way for you all to have fun." Me, being an independent and competent young gay man, I responded, "You know what, uh uh... Imma' find my own way to go to 'da club!" In jest, I suggested to B.L., "Why don't we post a craigslist ad asking for someone to take us out!" B.L. responded, "Absolutely not!" Which I then took as a challenge and, with the squeal of gay laughter, replied, "Ok! Fine, I'll do it!"

My add went like this:

"Hello!

Cute skinny twink type here (and possibly one more) looking to go out and have a fun night! Not looking for anything scandalous, just good company. My friend is a little scketched out by me doing this. I'm just trying to be as outrageous as possible. Be beautiful, fun, and fierce! No closet cases, please! Sugar daddies welcome, but as long as you got a car, we're cool. Come pick us up, take us to Jungle, let's dance and party the night away.

xoxo "

For those of you unfamiliar with craigslist and it's litany of personals, this is mild to nothing, venturing on joking. Very facetious. Very fierce. Very bold and mad -- and reckless. At the time I was thinking of it more as a whimsical play thing. The responses were priceless: "I'm 42. Is that too old?" to, "Discreet guy lookin' for a regular thang." Needless to say, those garnered no responses other than a scoff or a quick laugh, but the first response caught my eye. It was from a senior here at Emory saying he wanted to go out, too, that his friends had ditched him, that he certainly wasn't a sugar daddy, but he had a car. I then went out on a limb, wrote back, "This isn't classy, but let's skype!"

Here I interject with a piece of knowledge that I have mad luck on craigslist. No, not for this sort of thing, but read back into my earlier blogs and you'll find I found an apartment for free in New York City -- not an easy feat. I also have a good sense of things, a solid head on my shoulders, and a very perceptive gut. I don't do things that don't feel right.

B.R. called me on skype. We instantly clicked. He talked about Emory Pride, the local LGBT group on campus, and gay rights, and mutual friends, and about being a student here at Emory. Very personable. I found his facebook. We established very quickly that we would have met on Wednesday anyway.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? YOU ARE UNDERMINING MY EFFORTS TO HANG OUT WITH THIS GUY?!"

I looked at B.R. and quietly said, "We might not be able to hang out tonight."

I looked at B.L. The first tension between roommates was between some craigslist bullshit and some guy flaking out on us. We decided to take a breath, find our space, and finally made the conclusion that there were three of us (K.B. had left because of the screaming) would stay together no matter what, and, because I was bent on my loyalty and trust in this stranger, that we would go out with B.R.

Needless to say we had a blast, danced the entire night away, found a new best friend, had a shared experience, and fell in love (if only for a minute). This is college -- go with it!

That "Roll with it!" sentiment didn't sit well with me the next day. I promptly apologized to my friends for instigating a potentially dangerous situation. I would never do anything to put my loved ones in harms way. Regardless of B.R. being a new staple in our daily routine, and the serendipitous luck on craigslist, there are so many things that could have gone differently. We could have been left at the club. We could have been taken advantage or abused in other ways. It's not the context of craigslist, but the total trust in a stranger to take care of us. Someone very close to me once told me that I should have a stronger dose of skepticism with people, that I should give people time before I invest too much in them. I know I need to learn this, but how do you go from being the most naive and innocent and trusting person to anything but that? It takes time; this is college -- go for it!

CONRAD'S DO'S:

** DO ASK PEOPLE WHAT MAKES THEM INTERESTING AND START A COLLECTION OF INSIDE JOKES.

** DO GO SEE THE B52'S AND BLONDIE WITH THE ONE PERSON YOU WOULD MOST WANT TO SEE THEM WITH.

** DO HOST BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S PARTIES.

** DO TALK ABOUT INAPPROPRIATE SUBJECT MATTERS TO GAUGE PEOPLE'S RESPONSES YOU MIGHT BE INTERESTED IN BEING FRIENDS WITH LATER.

** DO SAY, "SALUTATIONS" TO KITCHEN STAFF.

CONRAD'S DON'TS:

** DON'T FAWN OVER BEAUTIFUL GREEK GODS THAT YOU WILL NEVER HAVE BECAUSE THEY DON'T SHARE YOUR SAME AFFINITY FOR MEN.

** DON'T HAVE THE AUDACITY TO QUESTION MY GLITTER.

** DON'T USE NEW TOWELS WITHOUT WASHING THEM.

** DON'T ACCEPT FREE ICE CREAM FROM BAPTISTS.

** DON'T RENAME PEOPLE WITHOUT THEIR CONSENT.

I am an Anti-Nazi Fairy

"Chasing the Devil, catching his tail, fishing him out, we've reached our quota. Here is your answer, now go to hell! The Devil's daughter -- St. Petersburg farewell!"

It's one thing to be anti-Nazi, but it's another thing to have a 'tude about it. I don't mean an edge. I don't mean a slight gleam in the eye. I mean a middle school attitude full of, "Hey fatty!" and "Na-na-na-na-na!" But, more importantly, having a sign of Hitler shooting his head and blood spewing everywhere with the text, "Follow your leader," was a little too much for me. My reaction? Get a bunch of UUs to sing "We Shall Overcome." That didn't work, and I tried my best. But, my question, to start this dialog, is, "How do we raise our children to practice non-violent action when you have people holding signs that provoke the idea that we're asking our 'opposites' to kill themselves?"

Regardless, the rally was a whole bash of fun. I mean, it really was the best send off to Atlanta I could ask for. All my old friends were there. People got to see me and hug me and tell me how beautiful I am. We danced and screamed and sang and we were outrageous. For me, this is what I love about my community in Knoxville. It's stepping into a crowd of people and knowing everyone. It's the disregard for what's "appropriate" in some instances for what feels right. It's our need to grow from our mistakes, but our comfort in making them. I hope I can find something this powerful in Atlanta. I hope I can be there to make something this powerful for someone else.

At the rally itself, I was an anti-Nazi fairy. While Bob Marly blasted through my hair and around my waist and in my ears, and the rain cooled me, I danced ethereally in the middle of the crowd of clowns and accordion players. I felt the energy of my body, and I felt the fun. I hope they saw that on the other side and were a little envious, or maybe curious. I think that's what fairies are supposed to inspire. Behind all the, "That faggot..." I hope there was a little voice, or thought, that broached, "That looks fun!"

CONRAD'S DO'S

** DO HANG OUT WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND OF ALL TIME.

** DO HAVE TEA AND FALAFEL AT THE BISTRO.

** DO WEAR FAIRY WINGS AND GLITTER.

** DO LOVE YOUR COMMUNITY.

CONRAD'S DON'TS

** DON'T HOLD YOUR SIGN UPSIDE DOWN IF YOU ALREADY LOOK STUPID FOR BEING A NAZI.

** DON'T SHOUT BACK, "HEY!" TO MEN IN RED TRUCKS THAT CALL YOU SEXY.

** DON'T PARK DUMB.

** DON'T BRING HOOLA-HOOPS INTO RALLIES WHERE PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO BE CLOWNS.

Summer Cont.

"Let this be our little secret, no one needs to know we're feeling higher and higher and higher."

Elliott and I were talking the other day before heading off to the pool. We were saying our thanks to the world for finally meeting each other and being able to be friends. "I think we'll be friends forever," he motioned, and I can't agree more. This is a summer to remember for the rest of our lives. It's not full of quips of New York City. It's not meeting the President. It is meeting new people and laughing and being outrageous and taking life for what it is. It's shaking our hips and letting down our hair. It's living for ourselves.

Let me catch you up.

It was the Fourth of July and I made dinner for my gays. Having dinner with friends is healthy, and part of becoming healthier in your diet. I explored this idea at Highlander with Yasameen and Sheena and Jardena, but let me elaborate:

At Highlander, our theme evolved around maintaining a healthier lifestyle for your mind, body, and heart. It is in this that I realized a healthy meal consists of three things. First, something that is filling, nutritious; something that provides your body with the new carbon backbones it needs for growing, the minerals and vitamins and proteins for function, and the fuel to run. But it also needs thought and consideration. Who are you cooking this meal for? What tastes and spices and combinations can you create? Most of all, at least on the Fourth of July, a healthy meal requires you to share that food with someone else, or a lot of someones. It requires you to exchange communion between friends and partners and strangers. It means laughing and saying, "thank you" and, "you're welcome" and some love. With that said, Paula Dean should have manifested with the amount of butter I used. Probably not the healthiest thing in the world, but sheer comfort and fun was there in abundance.

Aside the food, we had an outrageous time. Between the fireworks and the Passion Pit and the charades and the bubbles -- we were absolutely positively what fun is supposed to be about. I have never had such a outrageous summer.

On another note:

Do you have friends scattered through out the world? Maybe ones you connected with so fiercely at one point in your life, but lost contact because of space and time? Madeline, one of my favorite bisexuals in North Carolina, pinned me down last night for quite the phone date. We laughed and screamed and hollered and shared the deep secrets that have happened in our lives for the past year. I should have never hesitated to call her.

CONRAD'S DOs:

** LAY BY THE POOL LIBERATED BY THE SELF-CONSIOUS OF YOUR BODY AND WEAR SPEEDOS.

** BE AN URBAN EXPLORER. GO INTO THOSE HOTEL LOBBIES YOU'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO AND LOOK AT THEIR LIBRARIES.

** HAVE PHONE DATES AT RIDICULOUS TIMES.

** GO CONTRA DANCING.

CONRAD'S DON'Ts:

** DON'T LIMIT YOURSELF.

** DON'T PUT TANNING OIL ON YOUR FACE.

** DON'T BE THE WOMAN IN THE DANCE AND FORGET THAT YOU'RE THE WOMAN AND THEN TRY TO BE THE MAN.

** DON'T NOT LISTEN TO YOUR GUT.

Summer Adventures 2010

"Darlin' you got to let me know, should I stay or should I go?"

This is literally the first summer in four years where I'm not out and about doing something. Whether that something has been organizing demonstrations, traveling around to different conventions, or working in NYC, it feels like I've been going nonstop for the past four years. Though nice to have finally slowed down to the point of enjoying myself here in Knoxville, you know I can't help but feel a little unproductive!

That's not the case anymore. I have quite a few things already under my belt as accomplishments, and some things that I will be doing to keep myself more entertained than the constant newsfeed on facebook (you know you need something to do when you've reverted to watching people's activity on facebook and feel comfortable commenting on it and liking it candidly).

The summer began with graduating. That's right, I have a degree! Sorry! A diploma. More importantly, my friend, Zach Grimac, threw a dildo into the crowd at graduation and hit the kid next to me in the face! It hit me in the leg, and my whole row laughed and screamed and we made quite the scene! It was amazing! I'm beaming with a smile just writing about it. Naturally, I took the opportunity to inform the woman organizing graduation, incidentally the woman who threatened my transcript and admission to Emory. She was petrified. Also, I did appreciate our class President, Sarah Stevens, spending a substantial amount of time in her speech talking about me. I'm not saying I feel like I should be commended for everything I've done, but I did represent that school in the White House. Just sayin'. Thank you, Sarah!

Afterward, it was just a matter of time before my friends and I were saying good bye for the summer as they all commenced with their plans or work and me with my little nothings. The days started to drip together and the nights were really drippy because of the heat and being outside for the fireflies and for the fun and for the moon. Mackenzie and Taylor and me, in particular, had quite the night in the field looking up at the sky.

That same night, me and Taylor were downtown. We ran into Josh Fillis, who lead us on a walk to South Gay Street. We sat and met Theresa, an ex-bougois living in Sterchi Lofts on a trip for a new life. She of course then attracted some random rough necks who proclaimed they were the best men in the world. They had credentials. They were in the military. One was banned internationally from Wal-Mart for stealing so much while working there. He's also a heroine trafficker. Mackenzie showed up after we all pulled together to walk some 40 year old drunk woman home, Kendal, who's daughter had just died. The entire experience culminated in my friends and these rough necks being invited back into this woman's loft, her explaining why there were so many blood stains on the floor (and why she liked them), and having a little bit of a sharing circle. "I think I need to go," I said after 20 minutes of it all.

"Oh my Gosh! You should come visit me!" is something I've said pleasantly to a many of my friends living farther and farther away from me without any real expectation of ever seeing them again. This is not the case with people in Berea, Kentucky. Just last week, a crew of Quakers came to visit. I showed them all around Knoxville, all my usual spots. I share this because I think people should do this! Maybe I'm more naturally of host, and I do love giving tours, but showing people Knoxville who have fresh eyes to it was really fun! It was also affirming for me to find that I am still excited by this city.

This weekend was an immense amount of fun! Patrick, Elliott, Darren, Brandon, Stefan, and Emily and I all went out to the club. Of course, the Cell is a seedy dark place that no one likes, but it's still my seedy dark place that no one likes (if that makes sense). These people are amazing. My advice? Make new friends, make new connections, and don't be afraid to have fun. Just go with it.

The same crew is going down to Atlanta this Thursday for a day trip. We'll have a lot of fun, laugh and squeal way too much for Patrick's taste, and talk about the world, and have a summer.

A summer is something relaxed. Something light hearted. Something meaningful. Something touching and moving and fun and exciting! A summer.

CONRAD'S DO'S:

** GO TO QUEER EROTICA POETRY SLAMS, INTRODUCE YOURSELF TO LESBIANS ON THE STREET YOU DON'T KNOW, AND SPEND TWO HOURS WITH THEM.

** FIND PEOPLE THAT MAKE YOU LAUGH AND RUN WITH IT.

** ENJOY CREPES.

CONRAD'S DON'TS:

** DON'T FEEL LIKE YOU NEED TO COMPROMISE YOURSELF AT ANY POINT FOR ANY GIVEN PERSON TO MAKE THEM HAPPY.

** DON'T UNDERESTIMATE THE SMALL THINGS THAT HAPPEN.

** DON'T ANSWER BOOTY CALLS (I DIDN'T!)

Summer 2010 and Me

"Sunrise, sunrise feels like morning in your eyes."

Good Lord! Are you like me and try to steer clear of what you think is deadly and painful and dreadfully dramatic? I'm not saying I avoid conflict, but I am saying I do like to lay it out of my way and try to deal with what really matters in life. In the past six weeks, there's been some happenings that are important, and of course when you attract that sort of business, you attract what could be compared to spam to your life. Conclusion? Life resembles your email inbox (especially if you have Yahoo).

I am sorry to say one of two things. The first is that I was sexually assaulted by someone I thought was a friend of mine about six weeks ago. Here's my experience: I was too scared to say no. I didn't know what would happen if I didn't just go along with it, and here I am. So far, people have told me I should have punched the guys lights out, or I should have screamed, or I should have done this or that. What I've taken the time to learn is that feminized brains tend to draw into themselves and do whatever it takes to protect themselves. That's what I did. The follow up to this is that he's out out out of my life, needless to say, I have a healthier dose of skepticism when making friends, and I'm much more conscious of what I need as far as friends and loved ones go.

The second is that your favorite little gay couple decided to go our separate ways. "AW! OH NO WHY BLUH?!!!1?111??//!" Well, my lovely friends, people grow and change and make new pages in their lives. Also, long distance relationships make you realize how much you love being individuals and unassociated at this age. All smiles, no tears. Overall, I think it was the perfect decision at the perfect time because now I have a very open summer, and I'll be moving to Atlanta without the conditions of having to be something to someone; all I have to do is be me.

CONRAD'S DO'S:

** DO BE FRIENDS WITH BRANDON HOPPER.

** DO TELL YOUR MOTHER EVERYTHING.

** DO TELL YOURSELF TO GROW AND LEARN.

** DO GET TESTED FOR HIV AND TAKE SIGHS OF RELIEF.

CONRAD'S DON'TS:

** DON'T INVITE PEOPLE OVER LATE AT NIGHT IF YOU DON'T ABSOLUTELY KNOW THAT THEY WON'T TAKE ADVANTAGE OF YOU.

** DON'T CALL PEOPLE DISGUSTING OR SLUTTY IF THEY GET RAPED.

** DON'T NOT NOT EAT FOR FOUR DAYS. IF YOU'RE SAD, GOURGE YOURSELF EVEN IF YOU FEEL LIKE YOU MAY THROW UP. ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE ALREADY LITTLE.

** DON'T INTERNALIZE THINGS.

And Then There Were Us

"Party like a rock star!"

Today, I woke up, and I felt the energy of a 200,000 person march pulling me out of bed. The sun light and city sound filled me with heart and soul of the people. The people who are fighting for everything that we believe in. I heard the calls and the cries of those lost, those born and died to a world that surrounded them with hate and despair. I heard these cries and it made me realize that these cries will only continue to echo through out our time unless we do something, so I got up and got ready.

After looking at the schedule, at least 17 workshops per session, Mario and I strolled out without saying a word, or at least that I can repeat because all we did was talk shit about people and ideas that make us nervous or frustrated or confused as to why they exist. That space to vent and express that agitation in my heart is so essential for making sure I treat everyone with respect and listen to what they have to say -- no matter how I might think it's ridiculous; every voice should be heard, processed, and given the same respect.

My first workshop was about sustainable leadership, recruitment and retention in the not for profit sector. Though somewhat unaccesible and frustrating that Eliza Byard wasn't there, I found the time to think about two things: how can sustainable leadership in the youth movement last continually, and does it need to, and is working in the not for profit sector something that I want to do?

I walked down to a Theater of the Oppressed workshop put on by a Boston Youth group. It was refreshing to be able to do something creative and applicating our high level thinking in a way that provokes social change. In our workshop, we split up into groups to "share our stories dramatically."

Holiday and Shatavia and I got to have lunch today. Beautiful people. I'm so excited to be moving to Atlanta.

Then plenary where Rea Carey talked about being active within the LGBT movement and that equality isn't a compromise; you can't be just a little equal. Her suggestion? Once a month, talk, write, and meet with people to change their minds. One person. Do you know how many people that is if everyone at the conference did that for a year? 72,000. That's a lot compared to just me, but really? I think we need to do more. Tanner and I agree.

I went to the third session with Kip and Robin around Queer Radical Minds retreat. The retreat focused on this idea of building a broader base and incorporating civil disobedience. I facilitated and presented the small group discussion on radical inclusivity. It turns out I'm a good facilitator. However, some kid from TEP said that he didn't come away with anything. I told him he didn't sound very open to the info, and he responded by aruging he was. He walked into the meeting and said that he was sent to spy on us by TEP. Great. Queers spying on queers.

Finally, and I think most importantly, I made it to the Gay for Pay workshop, which brings me back to whether I want to do this for a living. Honestly, if I'm going to be doing something in the not for profit sector, it's gonna' have to be in the queer movement. I met an Emory student today and I was talking to him; he told me that a lot of people do pre-med, but there's excellent liberal arts programs to utilize. I guess we'll have to see! Regardless, I came away from today with a really clear idea of what it would be like to work in the social justice movement. It sounds fun!

After the conferences we had caucuses. I don't want to go into how angry I got, but let me just say how I feel: SOCIAL JUSTICE IS AN INTERGENERATIONAL PROCESS. If you think it's ok to completely disregard all the work, progress, and people who have come before you, and disrespect those who have come before you, there is no room for your attitude in this movement, and you better check that at the door.

Later, Sherry Wolf and I tooled around and ate hour'dourves and talked about socialism.

At last, Kyle and I came back to our apartment to meet up with Mario. We all had a big ole' time talkin' love. Kyle and I went to S4, and it was fabulous.

CONRAD'S DO'S:
** DO SPEAK UP ON BEHALD OF YOUR ADULT ALLIES
** DO REMOVE YOURSELF FROM FORCEFUL PHYSICAL ATTENTION FROM STRANGERS.
** DO MEET YOUR BFFS DAD

CONRAD'S DON'TS:
** DON'T BUY INTO PATHOS SPEECH RIGHT AWAY
** DON'T DISREGARD EMPOWERMENT SPEECHES
** DON'T BUMP INTO PEOPLE AT S4

If Today Could Talk

"We have to ride this new wave of activism."

Today I woke up next to the right man, hopped on MARTA to the airport to Dallas to Creating Change to make a difference in the world.

I should say my journey began with a mid-flight realization that this fear of flying in planes is completely rational; it stems from a fear and discomfort with being out of control. On further inspection, I realized that I (as in the human population) are rarely in control of everything. Is that control really necessary to NOT flinch every time there's a bump or start prayin' when the plane jostles. Letting go of that fear, albeit hard, was such a relief.

When I got to Dallas, I was ready to hop in Mark's red-orange Hummer, catch up with him and Mario, and make our way to the W residency. When we walked into the lobby my first comments were, "I feel so privileged right now!" the residency is truly beautiful, posh, and hip. The windows overlooking the city are enchanting; the orchids are magical; the living space is divine.

Without hesitation, we made our way to the Sheraton for the conference. Mario, my companion in all this, and I wondered around running into wonderful people. The day proceeded as such -- every once in awhile grouping with folks from Radical Minds. It was just so refreshing to be around so many queer activists. I must have talked my ass off because my voice is so horse right now. It all started with our instantaneous screaming kiniption we had with Tanner and Michelle. it progressed with conversations with old friends and new faces -- all of which are beautiful and amazing. This is truly a gathering of fabulous souls.

That really came out tonight during plenary. It was started with aknowledgement that hearing and language barriers will not be present at this conference. This sentiment indicates the accesibility that Task Force is considering when laying the foundation for this event. The next was the aknowledgment that this used to be Native land. Then a progression of awards and speakers that inspired clapping and screaming and hollering and laughing. Kate Clinton is our emcee, and boy is she hillarious. Her advice? We need not only have sit-ins, but laugh ins. Laugh in? Next time someone says something ridiculous about LGBTQIA rights/equality, listen, but then start bursting out laughing.

Finally, the keynote speaker, Thomas Seanz, a straight ally working on immigration, made 5 clear disctinctions why bridging and recognizing the intersections of the immigration movement and gay rights movement coorelate. Though dry and academic, his message was very stirring. To think so clearly that despite different specific goals, different socio-cultural implications, the tactics implemented against LGBT people and latin American people are very similar and our experience of oppression has distinct similarities such as fear of hate crime, living in the shaddow, and being denied full citizenship.

This concept of intersectionality is popping up everywhere. It's as if people are finally coming out the wood work and recognizing the fact that we need to be doing this all together. Together, we can make a difference.

Highlights: Tanner Efinger and "Rock for Equality" campaign around same-sex social security benefits; free "Legalize Gay" t-shirt from CampusPride; Michelle, Shannon, Michael, Robin, Stacey, Mandy, and Marquez hug; Kyle and Noah; Mario's and Conrad's conversations; meeting up with GLSEN; randomly running into Angel and Paulina; talking to represenatives from the census about queering the census; plennary speakers; making friends with Andrea from the Trans Hospitality room; flash mob planning; literature from "Gay? Fine by me!"; and sex positivity.

Tonight we tried walking home. Epic fail. As we're mapping out which workshops of 17 in each session, we're also mapping out better directions.

I think what I've come out of today with is two things: Self-actualization works and queer activism does, too. Also, it's the best to have a lot of friends.

CONRAD'S DO'S:
** SCREAM WHEN YOU SEE PEOPLE LOST TO DISTANCE
** VISIT ALL THE DIFFERENT HOSPITALITY ROOMS
** WALK WITH NUMBERS AND BUTCH DYKES

CONRAD'S DON'TS:
** RESIST THE URGE TO CARTWHEEL IN AN OPEN ROOM
** GET STRESSED OVER LITTLE THINGS
** DENY THAT YOU ARE SOMEONE FROM AMERICAN IDOL

Creating Change Means Flying to Dallas

"May I congratulate you first for human, human of the year; you've won!"

A fluorescent pink suitcase sits zipped up, not full, but accomplished. It's a carry on; ready for the quick maneuvers of some international airport time.

I am not a particular fan of the airport. Security, checking in, busy people doing busy things on PDAs and iPods and with small children that don't know what it means to be busy. It's not the people; the people are delightful. It's not the food -- though airport food is notoriously overpriced and under quality. It's primarily the flying part.

However, destination Dallas requires a good hour and a half of flying. Last time I flew into Texas the plane felt like it was going to plummet. Terrifying much?

Going against Gandhian practices of thinking about the means as justifying the end, I'm taking the bullet and accepting the fact that Dallas is the headquarters for Creating Change. A hotbed of activist activity and advocacy and networking and mainly tweeting. It's essential, if you're an activist, to have a twitter.

Just last week I was at Highlander with some real activists. Activists looking to change the structure of how we work in advocacy and social justice. I like to sum it up by saying I was there to explore the possibility of expanding the LGBT Equality movement to incorporate a broader base and civil disobedience. I like to think that this is going to work because I believe in what's right. I'm wondering what others think is right, and that's why I'm going to Creating Change. I'm going to create change, too.

First: pit stop in Chattanooga, then Atlanta.

CONRAD'S DO'S
** THINK OF MIKE AND DANTE AND THANK THEM
** DO STUFF YOUR FACE WITH PRETZELS AND HOT CHOCOLATE
** DO GET A TWITTER

CONRAD'S DON'TS
** DON'T WAIT UNTIL 12:30 TO START PACKING
** DON'T ANTICIPATE FEAR IN FLIGHT
** DON'T LOOK FOR A BELT THAT IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU FOR 30 MINUTES.

Brooklyn is for Lovers

Friday, July 25

Welcome to our house we only wanted to be good for the caller. Welcome to us, leave a message let us know what you're after. It may seem like there's nobody home. Really we're sitting right by the phone, letting you speak to the machine, letting you go first to say what you want.
Good morning, Jake! Good morning, Marie! Oh wait, oh no! Good bye! Good bye! Good bye!

Marie walked me to the elevator with my luggage in tow. We hugged and kissed -- and told one another how much we adored the other. It was as if I was saying goodbye to a relative. Perhaps it truly is just how lovely and open she is, but I feel as if we've exchanged heart pieces.

Then the sweat came.

I briskly walked down to the subway for a few blocks as I exited the building. Then it became more of a chore. By the time I was too the stairs I was doing my best not to pant! The 1 came crowded, and I debated whether or not to wait for an emptier car. No. I shoved my way on with two hot pink suitcases and backpack with wrapping paper jutting out the back. Incidentally, I only had one person say anything, and it was after my Lucho wrestler gift wrap body slammed his face! Embarrassing!

Before too long, I was blushing again as I pushed my way off the elevator into an anti-oppression workshop for the Media Ambassadors that GLSEN Communication was training! A lobby full of young people spread out all of a sudden staring at me, some hugging me, while I clumsily and awkwardly waddled to the front desk door. It was a relief to finally sit down at my desk and fall into the realm of spread sheets.

An hour or two later, Bailey and I took a taxi to Columbus Circle for a Mac appointment. It was the first time I had driven above ground in NYC, and the experience was one of interest, fascination, and extreme fear. I was enamored by the sights and views while I held on tightly in the cross-town traffic. Try it some time!

Jake met me at 3:00, and we collectively made an easy ride to Brooklyn for our new residence. Mike, the previous sublet, let us in, and we made ourselves comfortable. The apartment is beautiful, and Ally, the cat, is more than adorable! It has a wonderful living room/kitchenette with all the good (gay) channels on TV. A full bathroom on the right, a study at the end of the hall, and our bedroom is up the spiral staircase. It's really the perfect place; I fully advocate making life long connections via craigslist sublet section.

After settling down, Jake and I toured around 5th Avenue in Park Slope. The area is absolutely gorgeous, and reminiscent of a more developed Asheville. The people are nice, and there's a diverse range of food options. We probably walked around for an hour before deciding to try and decide what to eat! Jake got Greek, while I found some good soul food options in the grocery store. We mozied back to the apartment, and cuddled up for a good ole' horror movie. Brooklyn is spectacular!
CONRAD'S MUST-DO'S:
** ESTABLISH LOVE BETWEEN STRANGERS AND THEIR CARETAKERS.
** SLEEP TWO TO ONE AIR MATTRESS.
** RUN ERRANDS IN EXPENSIVE PARTS OF TOWN AND SUGGEST JAMBA JUICE.
** MAKE YOURSELF A HOME IN BROOKLYN.

CONRAD'S MUST-NOT'S:
** CARRY LUGGAGE ON THE SUBWAY.
** TRIP OVER YOURSELF IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE CITY.
** SASS THE APPLE GENIUS.
** BE SNAPPY WITH PEOPLE WHO DON'T KNOW THEIR WAY AROUND.

JAKEJAKEJAKE

Thursday, July 24

and in the daylight we can hitchhike to Maine. i hope that someday I’ll see without these frames. and in the daylight i don’t pick up my phone cause in the daylight anywhere feels like home.

Counting the hours and minutes until Jake's arrival filled my day. Hopping from the 1 to the 2 in efforts to get anywhere faster, I check my phone: 15 minutes until 9:30, which means 5 1/2 hours until I need to dash out of work. Not only was I excited to be with my boyfriend, but to a certain degree breathe air with a familiar and close relation. In NYC, I have no one -- not a best friend, partner, family member, of whom I can simply be myself around! Sure, I've made friends, but my best friend here has known me for a total of 10 or days; it would be unfair to expect such platonic intimacy.

Jake was supposed to call at 1:30 when he got off. I looked at the clock to see 1:55 changing fast to 1:56. Nervous, I checked on his flight (because you can do that these days!) and found him redirected to Baltimore. Naturally, I freaked out! I called flight information and sat on hold for 20 minutes before being told that the flight was safely arriving into LaGuardia as we were speaking. Whoo! It actually worked out for the best because this way I could leave GLSEN at an appropriate time and not leave Jake waiting for 45 minutes.

By the time my train stopped at 116th, I was bolting down the road with my scarf flying in the air, and rain drops pelting my sunglasses. I looked for the tall figure on the corner of Morningside and Amsterdam and saw him from a block away. I kept running until I was safe in a warm hug and the familiar breath of Jake.

Before too long we were settled into Marie's apartment speaking with her and doing introductions. She seems enchanted by him, and even gave an impromptu dance/song performance of Jambalaya on the Bayou! She even offered for us to sleep in her bed while she curled up on the couch! Of course, I said no, but the thought was nice: "I want you two to sleep together on your first night together in the city!"

Before too long we were walking down 125th and exploring commercial Harlem with ease. Though the rain caught in our socks, and the wind sparked our necks, the day could not have ended any better.

CONRAD'S MUST-DO'S:
** RUN THROUGH THE FINANCIAL DISTRICT AS IF ON A SECRET MISSION.
** JUMP DOWN SUBWAY STAIRS TO MAKE YOUR TRAIN.
** BRING YOUR PARTNER TO YOUR FAVORITE CAFE IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD.

CONRAD'S MUST-NOT'S:
** EXPECT H&M TO ALWAYS BE AMAZING.
** INTERACT NEGATIVELY WITH PEOPLE IN HARLEM.
** MAKE ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT HOW PEOPLE ARE GOING TO FUNCTION IN NYC.

You Look Like Home to Me

Wednesday, July 23

I smile when he grins even though it was the television. Still, I'm glad to be around while he's laughing. You look like home to me.

This is the time I realize that this endless living situation does in fact come to an end. Though I've complained countless numbers of times to individuals and on my blog, I am truly sad to be packing my suitcases away from Marie's. She is beyond what it means to be a sweet old lady: Marie is a genuine, caring, loving, and dear person. I don't think a day has gone by when she hasn't apologized for not feeding me, giving me a bed, and not making me more comfortable. Of course I haven't let on to her that I could be more comfortable, but she isn't ignorant; I appreciate her awareness and willingness to make things pleasant.

Her spirit fights hard, and her accomplishments speak her truth about advocacy and securing living opportunities for all peoples. She has gone up against some heavy institutions with success, and garnered the respect of the colorful and diverse population around her. She is an organizer to this day, and a fierce one at that! Though her life is culminating, I am deeply grateful for my opportunity to meet, talk, and live with her.

I came home from work today to sit and speak with her. We chatted about what I am doing in NYC, the different places I've visited, and the sort of work I'm doing with GLSEN. I began to ask her about her day and what she was getting involved in. A simple curiosity seemed to brighten her day, and the act of sharing made her smile. This base level of communication was not being taken for granted by her, and it made me feel as if this grand feeling of disconnection was widespread; I cannot help but to promise myself to be more engaging to those around me.

My bags are packed. My area is cleaned. Marie's gorgeous apartment is ready for me to leave.

CONRAD'S MUST-DO'S:
** TAKE A WALKING TOUR THROUGH MARIE'S APARTMENT.
** BEFRIEND PEOPLE REGARDLESS OF AGE.
** DRINK OTHER PEOPLE'S APPLE JUICE WHEN YOU DON'T WANT TO SPEND SIX DOLLARS ON A BOTTLE.

CONRAD'S MUST-NOT'S:
** LET AWFUL AND TERRIBLY STRESSFUL ROOMMATES RUIN THINGS.
** BUY AN ABUNDANCE OF RASPBERRY SODA.
** LOSE ALL YOUR SOCKS MYSTERIOUSLY AND ALL AT ONCE.

Hard Work Helps

Tuesday, July 22

Put a hole in the ground just to bury your poor uncle. Let him settle down, gettin' ready for the savior. If his heart is light as a feather he'll just float right in. It's a shame it's heavier by the burdens of his sin.

I'll tell you this: California is being presented with an alternative! I found a resource that will allow us to have a rather significant portion of the information we need for the school districts, and therefore the remaining information will not be nearly as much of a hassle to deal with. This is exciting!

GLSEN had it's monthly all staff meeting today! We heard from Community Initiatives about Camp GLSEN and how amazing it apparently was. The idea was to train a national intergenerational team to enter their community to start a plethora of localized JumpSTART teams; it's something that East Tennessee GLSEN is going to debut with (hopefully!). Next we heard from Communications about Sirdeaner Walker testifying on behalf of the Safer Schools Initiative Act. Her story and compelling testimony enchanted the congress people, and had a few of us in the office tearing up: http://www.glsen.org/cgi-bin/iowa/all/news/record/2449.html.

It struck me how important GLSEN is to the lives and support of LGBTA youth around the nation. Though at times our struggles with GSA or Spectrum Activities may seem futile and wasted, I know that just by providing a space, by existing, we are what makes the difference for some young people. Many youth feel isolated and alone; a presence and visible charter of folks can be what saves that child from self-destruction or violence from others. We have to keep working! I'm going to keep working.

After my day at GLSEN was over, I trained to the Center to meet George for the last time: he'll be on a plane tomorrow for Myrtle Beach. We stayed for a discussion group around Gender and Gender Identity; it eventually turned into a slight argument about whether the term Metrosexual is derogatory or not. I'm of the persuasion that it is merely a way for narrow minded people to maintain the stereotype that A) The majority of straight men aren't consumed by maintaining a clean appearance and B) That all gay men are. The term metrosexual encourages the hierarchy that places gay men below straight men because the general feeling that metrosexual men are closeted implies that a metrosexual man is below a straight man, and therefore gay men are below straight men, which is just totally heterosexists!

I learned that some people don't have boundaries, and cannot understand others' boundaries. George and Marcus left me to fend for myself with this gay boy from Yonkers who could not stop trying to touch my butt! I mean, I know I have a nice one, but it's really uncomfortable when I don't know you and you're either trying to take a squeeze (or punch? I don't know. He's obviously crazy!). By the third or fourth time of politely and , I finally said, "You cannot touch me there. Get yo' fuckin' hands off me!" George made him leave.

I helped George get ready to leave by cleaning his kitchen from last night, and then cleaning and organizing his entire kitchen area like I usually do. We walked back to the subway and said our goodbyes. It's interesting to know that all the people I establish connections with here in NYC will all be out of my immediate life very shortly. I'm sad.

CONRAD'S MUST-DO'S:
** ESTABLISH BOUNDARIES WITH CREEPERS.
** LISTEN TO OTHERS' VIEW ON HOW GENDER AND SEXUALITY RELATE.
** BE ENTHUSIASTIC WHEN YOU PRESENT YOURSELF TO A ROOM FULL OF PEOPLE.

CONRAD'S MUST-NOT'S:
** EAT CHIPS LOUDLY DURING A MEETING.
** SUGGEST CULTURING ROLLY-POLLIES AS A CRAFT FOR YOUR DEPARTMENT.
** BE IRRITATED WITH PEOPLE WHO DON'T KNOW YOU'RE TIRED.

Movie Night And Indian!

Monday, July 20th
I feel it all! I feel it all!

Today the anticipation for Jake's arrival really kicks in. I wake up and start counting the days, hours, until he comes. There's a dynamic change coming, and I'm interested to see how it plays. On one hand I'm more than enthusiastic to see the love of my life for the first time in a month, and spend a week together in my new city. On the other hand, I'm so used to being independent and free of consideration or thought for other people around me. The shift shall surely be noticeable -- at least to me!

GLSEN Research work is pretty much coming to a culmination. I don't want to say I've worked to fast, but I have. I've compiled a seven spreadsheets, completed any side projects, and really just blown it out of the water. I suppose I'm still working on California, but that's so daunting that no one wants to deal with it! It's too big!

After work I trained to George's for a relaxing evening. We ended up almost taking a nap, but then I woke up. I was going to just leave, but Marcus called and said he was coming down. I decided to make Indian food for my new friends! Although, George's kitchen is about the size of a closet; there was a little bit of frustration among SOME of us. Regardless, the meal was cooked, and everyone seemed to really enjoy it. I find that cooking for people is something I really enjoy; the act of providing is a good one, and so is sharing. Maybe it's the Montessori in me, but I feel that interactions on a more basic level (communion) do signify a deeper connection between people.

Afterward we watched Saw V and ate chocolate chip cookies. I nearly vomited. I think I've reached the point in my life where gore and blood no longer excite me as so much terrify and emotionally scar me. Of course, as an old person, I have to say, "When I was younger these movies didn't have so much violence!", which is true, but still only old people say it! I'm gettin' old, y'all!

CONRAD'S MUST-DO'S:
** TAKE A BREAK FROM WORK AND EAT 100 CALORIE COOKIES.
** OPT OUT OF WALKING AROUND FOR LAYING AROUND.

CONRAD'S MUST-NOT'S:
** TAKE THE SUBWAY AT 11:30 AFTER WATCHING SAW V.
** DELAY WRITING BLOGS.

I've Never Tasted THAT Before

Sunday, July 19

Pancakes for one is always depressing because eating them with you was always so much fun!

This morning, I slept in. The air was nice, and the construction was merely a dull roar in the background. Marie's apartment is beautiful; the sun and the breeze fill the large spacious rooms comfortably. The quiet takes over, and even the streets obey the majestic peace I find at Marie's.

I hopped on the 1 heading downtown to meet George at his apartment for an unscheduled day. We went here-and-there around Astor Place and St. Mark's. I happened upon the cutest little smoothie shop: strawberry-mango smoothie, huge, $5.74! Getting deals on huge amounts of good stuff in NYC is probably one of the most fun parts about being here. It's so satisfying. I'm fairly certain New Yorker's live for it!

I needed to do some homework, so I suggested we make the usual trip down to the Pier. Being the good NYC host friend that he is, George suggested a bit of adventure to Bryant Park off of Times Square. Sworn to hate Times Square, I scoffed, and resentfully made the subway ride to 42nd Street. Bryant Park isn't nearly as cute or fashion-forward as it is on Project Runway. My impression was that it was just another patch of grass in the middle of the city, but more awkward because of Time Square's immanent presence! I tried to read my Economics book, but it sucks. Boo econ.

George and I toured around the area for an hour or two waiting for his friends Marcus and Lauren. Best Buy. Barnes and Noble. All things to find in Knoxville. Not that I don't like Knoxville, but I don't like being in a culturally diverse mecca and being surrounded by franchise after franchise. I suppose that New Yorker's need their cheap and dependable chains, but I found it a little overwhelming. How can a city who fights so hard to keep Wal-Mart out allow... It doesn't matter: Capitalism.

No sign of the friends. It's time to go.

Back in good ole' Harlem, I quickly readied myself for a night out with my family's friends, Barbara and Joel. They had invited me over last week for an Ethiopian dinner, but because cell phones are made out of evil, we missed one another. I was happy to be welcomed into their beautiful apartment. Though smaller than Marie's, their apartment was cozy, spacious, and delightful. I commented, "This is a magnificent place you've got; I absolutely adore it!"

"You do? We hate it! Maybe we should give it to you."

The night progressed with me asking questions about all sorts of things: my dad, nuclear work/activism, Columbia. After half a glass of wine, we walked downtown into Manhattanville, a failed attempt to move gentrification uptown, for Ethiopian! For those of you unexposed to Ethiopian cuisine, let me first encourage you to try it. I did. It was... something I've never tasted before. The spongey bread remincient of Naan has a very sour taste to it. The ground beans and greens seem lathered in spices. The meat? Oh, the meat. The meat is surrounded by fat, sauce, and deliciousness. Although I walked away with an upset stomach, the expereince was invigorating.

CONRAD'S MUST-DO'S:
** SCHEDULE TIME TO DO HOMEWORK AND THEN PRIORITIZE EXPERIENCE OVER GRADES.
** MAKE PLANS TO COOK DINNER FOR FRIENDS YOU JUST MET.
** SNACK ON PECANS TO FILL TIME.
** LAY IN THE GRASS AND LISTEN TO PEOPLE TALK IN NYC.

CONRAD'S MUST-NOT'S:
** VENTURE TOWARDS TIME SQUARE.
** DRINK RED WINE FOR THE FIRST TIME.
** ORDER LAMB.
** EXPECT WHAT YOU'RE GETTING TO SEEM NORMAL.

Gayzelle

Saturday, July 18
If I flew with wings from my spine, do you think that she'd let me carry her? And if I grew big and strong, do you think that I wouldn't be so scared of her?

Back at Marie's and couldn't be happier. The familiarity of NYC and Harlem/Morningside Heights is growing on me. Though this city is famous for being ever changing and ridiculously unsolvable, my niche and treks across the familiar paths going to and from provide a sense of security. Perhaps not quite as mundane as the drive to school every day, or the same route taken in the hallways, but the routine at Marie's is especially nice because of spontaneity and chances for variety are clearly everywhere in abundance. Whether it's walking down Amsterdam instead of Morningside, or taking the 2 instead of the 1, -- or just exploring a street that seems interesting, the possibilities seem endless! This is what makes NYC so interesting, even when I'm sticking to my same old way every morning.

However, this morning I did something different: I went to meet my friend whom I knew before coming to NYC: Sam Cramer. The dynamic of being here with someone that knew me before being here was interesting. It gave me a chance to see what's new about myself, and gauge if I really have changed. Thankfully, my social moth (handsomer, more endearing, and just as awkward as butterflies) was released; we just walked around getting lost, eating panninis, and exploring a dirty part of town. It was fabulous. Her mom is great, too.

Afterward I speedily found a 2 train heading towards 14th street for a YES program. I was 15 minutes late, but it seems like I had just missed check-in. We played the Big Wind Blows, and gradually more people came in. A total of 35-ish young adults came to a Saturday afternoon gathering in the summer. Competition with Spectrum? Only a little. Maybe it's because I'm not really a part of the program, but I feel so much more at home... at Spectrum. In Knoxville.

George, Hal, James, and some three or four others -- and myself, walked to the Pier after making a quick stop at Magnolia's. Delicious. Plain delicious. Cheap. Amazing. A line going around the corner! We took our goodies to the Pier and laid out in the sun enjoying the decadence. Before too long, the group was playing Truth or Dare, Ten Fingers, and then finally, RUNWAY!

The game is simple. Five competitors giving their best walk. The game is modeled after America's Next Top Model (America's Next Top Bottom), which Hal dragged out for the duration of the real show -- he even cried. Desira, Blue Star, JonJon, James, and me, Gayzelle walked our walks. Double elimination! Desira, Blue Star, and Gayzelle move on. The others flat out leave. Two more walks: Beyonce inspired, and accesories. I funk on Beyonce, and run the accessories! Bye, Desira. Two more walks: Tell a Story and Final Runway. Gayzelle.... WINS! Because they dragged it on for SO long, they ended up giving me this cute shirt from H&M. I think someone posted a video on YouTube -- strangers have no inhibition.

George, Paolo (Blue Star), and I speed walked to Harry Potter, where I sat in line for our seats while my two friends make a candy drive. The movie was... I liked it, but at the same time it didn't give me the same feeling when as when I read the book. For instance, I balled at the end of the book, and merely teared up while watching. However, **SPOILER ALERT** I flat out screamed during the zombie part.


We ended the night by a few rounds of Hangman in some 70's inspired diner. It was swell!

CONRAD'S MUST-DO'S:
** DISCLOSE NYC LINGO: YAK, MUCH, DOWN, MAD, GOOP, GAG, BIRD.
** EAT APPLE ANYTHING, AND SHARE WITH HAL.
** BE RIDICULOUS IN YOUR POSE ON THE PIER.

CONRAD'S MUST-NOT'S:
** TRY TO GO TO CALIFORNIA PIZZA KITCHEN.
** WANDER AIMLESSLY IN A NEW TO YOU PART OF TOWN.
** ALLOW A TRANSWOMAN TO TELL YOU THAT YOU ARE A WOMAN, AND NEED TO CORRECT YOUR BODY.

One Quesadilla, Please!

Friday, July 17

Remember that I love you!

I woke up this morning to the wonderful comforts of hotel luxury, and my best friend. Little did I realize it was 7:15, and Ginny had texted me to tell me to be downstairs by 7:30 for a breakfast meeting.

I snagged a bagel, finished the meeting, and sluggishly heaved my way back to my bed. Starling enjoyed the bagel, though I'm sure she was eating it in her sleep. It was a sight to see! I mean just take a second and imagine someone laying in bed, completely zonked out -- eyes closed -- chewing on a big piece of bagel. Amazing!

I eventually made my way downstairs for the workshop I was speaking in. Fortunately, the presentation and content was 10X better than before. I don't know if I just felt more comfortable speaking or if I really did feel like what I had to say was making an impact on my audience, but it just felt better. I can officially say that my first national gig went well.

After speaking, I booked it out of the hotel to go meet Starling in Columbia Heights at this adorable little restaurant called Sticky Fingers. I ordered a quesadilla before realizing it was vegan. I didn't like the cheese.

I have a question, though: When is Knoxville's vegan/vegetarian place opening? I think it's called Veg-o-Rama, and it's on Central. Someone check into it, and we can have a coming home party veggie style! I was ready to come home that afternoon, but at the same time I was missing NYC. I'm interested to see what my reaction will be in Knoxville! D.C. is much bigger, and seemingly has more variety of things to do than Knoxville, yet when I was there it seemed small and insignificant. Huh...

The flight from D.C. to NYC was, of course, terrifying. Turbulence. Thunderstorms. No snacks. Yet, again, no one else on the flight seemed to mind, so I didn't outwardly panic.

CONRAD'S MUST-DO'S:
** REFRAME WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY WHEN IT DOESN'T APPLY TO WHO YOU ARE SAYING IT TO.
** ALWAYS HELP PEOPLE WITH GSA WORK.
** FORCE QUESADILLAS ON MELANIE.

CONRAD'S MUST-NOT'S:
** RIDE THE M60 BUS (SORRY JAKE).
** GO GROCERY SHOPPING ON AN EMPTY STOMACH.
** START CRYING ON THE AIRPLANE.