I am Chelsea. I study art at SUNY Purchase. I would not reccommend college to anyone straight out of high school. College is just more school. It's not the same as high school. But it's close. You have some control over what you get to take.

Don't go for your parents or anyone but yourself. And realize why you are there.

I am at school because I love making stuff. And I get to do it six hours a day, three days a week, and the rest of the time I sit around and make stuff that a grade isn't riding on, or I watch teevee or dawdle on my computer. You're bored already aren't you?
It'll be more interesting next time. Peace, C.

22 March 04

I have been browsing the internet looking for sex toys for a friend. So far I've been to Toys in Babeland, a Seattle and New York store, women owned, women run. Inga Muscio, in Cunt, (An amazing book! If you haven't read it you should!), highly reccommends it.

Wonderful sex info is online at scarleteen.com. Safer sex, news, basic questions, all that stuff. Helped me out, when I was a wee fifteener.

soapboxgirls.com is a zine i discovered from a zine, Bitch, (bitchmagazine.com), both wonderful, enlightening reads. Give em a go.

As I go. Love, C.

Yanked into abrupt conversations that find me in the heat of a coffeeshop, near to the drizzly jissom and piss smelling park, streets black with oil and spit and shit and gum and rain drenching up all the dried up stains on the asphalt and sidewalks. You look around into the clamor of too-hip-to-be-hipsters wildly typing urgent emails to their friend in southern california about nothing, on their plastic clear classy cheap lap tops.

And down into that swirling black oil coffee, “better than what most people around here use” says the sign of “why we raised our prices” near the bathroom. There is a ring of girls, eager chirping knowing voices uttering muttering names I’ve heard but don’t know. I’m a chair apart. My friend with his wet pink lips and elbows leaned into the white formica table picked up at a yard sale, toted from Williamsburg on the F train, is in it with unsynchronized “yeah”s and inconsiderate declarations. What is bullshit and what isn’t. Like he knows. It is so fake and clammy.

Like I would know. I never talk to these kids. Because I do not know how to butt into conversations. But I am listening intently. I sometimes say something, but it never gets in.

Which is why, mostly, I dislike social people who sit in circles and don’t want anyone in with them, who doesn’t look
talk
smile
accuse
dress
hate
just like they do. -C.