--both hands--

I really need to stop writing my 15 page term papers in one day.

I start my paper on bisexuality tomorrow morning, it's due Tuesday at 9am. This is going to be such an undertaking. I LOVE the topic, I LOVE the class, and I LOVE my professor... but I wish this could be like a phd thesis or something--I need a year for this topic.

And I know I'm arguing for the legitimacy of bisexuality, but that's been done. I need to argue it from a different angle. The why, the what--I've narrowed it down to female bisexuality because bisexuality itself is a gi-normous topic. I really want to write about the lesbians vs. bisexual women bias, which may be the next narrowed down step. I got so many good surveys from straight women, and the male population, and it's a shame not to be able to use them. Ya know, I really want to write a book about bisexuality in the form of Ariel Levy's Female Chauvinist Pigs--approachable, New York Times Bestseller-able, funny, sharp, and really fucking smart and poignant. That's what I aspire to be. Fucking smart and poignant. Razor sharp. Zing!

Yawn.

I graduate this Saturday.

Hmm.

It hits me about once every three days. Right now I'm in the nonchalant completely shrug shoulders mood portion of the three days.

There are bradley folk and profs I want to say a big ole mushy goodbye to.... but a part of me feels it'd be better just to not bother. Not because they're not worth it, but I mean...life is a big revolving door. It might be better to just not say goodbye, because, it's not really goodbye, everything's circular, they'll be in my life again in some form, regardless. I don't know. Maybe I'm just telling myself that in order to avoid feeling empty and shitty and sad and confused, because I'm not sad--I've wanted to graduate since Sophomore year-so where is all this complicated emotion coming from, hmm? I hate that sadness pit of your stomach feeling. I avoid it at all costs. That's actually not true at all. I succumb to it whenever it comes to visit. Mais oui! I still loathe it.

Okay, I need to read more on bisexuality, sketch out a thesis/outline and call it a night. None of that will happen--I bet myself 5 dollars I'll fall asleep.

I swear, I would be much more productive if the good Lord had made me a robot.

bon nuit.

***
in each other's shadows
we grew less and less tall
and eventually our theories
couldn't explain it all
and I'm recording our history
now on the bedroom wall
and when we leave the landlord will come
and paint over it all

and I am walking
out in the rain
and I am listening
to the low moan
of the dial tone again
and I am getting nowhere with you
and I can't let it go
and I can't get through...

so now use both hands
please use both hands
oh, no don't close your eyes
I am writing graffitti on your body

I am drawing the story of how hard we tried
how hard we tried
how hard we tried

-both hands-
(ani difranco)