Hormones are embarrassing and cause people who are already incredibly emotionally unstable, like me, to do even more awkward and humiliating things than usual. Not only did I burst into tears after realizing that one side of my hair was significantly longer than the other, I also ate an entire breakfast of chocolate and texted everyone in my phone book (actual phone book…..look what you’ve done to me Verizon) no less than 5 times each something manically depressive that received many “Where are you???” responses. Crying while driving is also another feat I’ve accomplished, and since my radio has been out of commission since I blew up my battery a few weeks, it was less than poetic to time my tears to the sound of my engine thudding loudly. Oh foreign cars, built to last. Today was the culmination of my magical whimsical life. Nothing says you’re an important contributor to society more than realizing you are running full speed down the hallway because you walked in on a man using the unisex restroom.
“Being born a woman is an awful tragedy… Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars - to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording - all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night…”—