Last week I graduated, and finally my life feels like my own. Everything from here on out will be for me.

My mom threw me a family graduation dinner on Saturday. Everyone complimented the homemade food. The store-bought cupcakes (which I ignored until a few minutes ago as I scrounged in the fridge) sported little plastic signs screaming 'Good luck!' at me, and now I feel weirdly bad for ignoring them, because it doesn't feel the same reading that stupid plastic message in the refrigerator light at 3am. Everyone asked what my plans for the future were. Instead of making interesting lies up like I had ideally planned, I told the truth, which always seems to get the better of me-that I was going to work small jobs until I got enough money to move out, then see what happens. I don't think I managed to convince anyone that I had my shit together, but I guess define 'shit together.'

Friday night my friend Alex, his girlfriend, his friend, and I drove down to Pridefest in Milwaukee. Many couples all around, which was nice, but not, since my second heart wasn't with me. This cute butch girl gave me a high-five and her friend complimented my dress. I told them to come dance with me later, but I never saw them. Despite buying $6 beer after $6 beer, by midnight I was only mildly drunk, which isn't the caliber of drunk I like. I danced with Alex and Kelsey for a while, kept looking over at an attractive girl who kept looking at me until she came over and we started dancing. Damn could that girl move. We talked and danced. She was 24 and from Paraguay and liked swing. She had curly hair, a nice mouth. I told her I was disappointed by how many people here didn't seem to know how to dance at all. She spun me around and I managed to pretend to be smooth. It was awesome. We talked of going clubbing in Madison, and I got her number. I wish I could find her on Facebook so that I could talk to her more, but I'd feel weird texting her to ask for her last name. O vicissitudes of modernity.

I'm leaving for St. Louis tomorrow, where Avi lives, to spend a few days getting our shit together before we start driving west. I still have so much to do before that happens. The prospect of the six-hour drive there makes me grumpy.

I slept for most of the day, had dreams I was hugging a boy I don't know very well in real life but am quite attracted to. I felt the planes of his chest through his shirt and told him in the dream how attracted I was to him, and it was cathartic and wonderful all around, but I was in a bad mood once I woke up, maybe just by the act of waking. This dream makes me want to talk to him more. I'd probably admit that the reason I was talking to him was because he showed up in a dream, and then it would eventually come out that I'm attracted to him. It seems that a lot of my life is composed of weird impulses that I quash for the sake of seeming normal.

It's 4am, I need to sleep.