Phases of the Moon (and other zines by Stacey Marie). (Featured: Phases of the Moon #3.)
I’ve known Stacey for quite a long time now. We started trading zines and writing letters when we both did our not-so-great old zines, when we both romanticized everything and were super into the punk rocks. We’ve been IRL friends, and pen/zine/online friends, and we’ve seen each other grow as writers. But you know, I can’t help but feel that she has far surpassed me in recent years. Like, she’s getting over Punk as a Thing, and I’m still way too into it. Like, I’m still a hopeless romantic lovesick dork (to borrow a phrase she used to describe her old self), and even when she writes about the same kind of stuff I do, she seems less apt to romanticize everything. She’s a bit younger than I am, but for some reason in her writing she comes across as older, more self-possessed, and wiser than I do. All comparisons aside, her stuff is awesome and she’s an amazing photographer, too, and she’s a great person.
I owe her a letter. I owe a lot of people letters. I am actually the worst penpal ever.
(More Stacey Marie on my blog: I don’t want my 30s to be entirely consumed…)
Rust Belt Jessie wrote this amazing thing about me and I’m super flattered and have to post it for shameless self-promotion reasons.
But I also wanna disclaim that while #getting over punk is an important thing for my own ~personal development~, I know that cool punks can also exist (case in point, RBJ! You shouldn’t feel bad about being “way too into it” because you are not the jerk type of punk!). Maybe I will write about this in a future zine because I haven’t been able to articulate it very well outside of snarky text posts yet, but to try and keep it concise: I still believe that I learned some important things as a result of my involvement in punk — like DIY especially, and being punk when I was a teenager was what got me into some activism/radical thought/questioning everything. These are ideals I want to keep with me always!
But I got too disillusioned by the usual BS: punker-than-thou types calling me a poseur when I was 16 because I listened to Other Genres of Music (gasp! SECRET: I am actually really into techno sorry not sorry!), false-sense-of-entitlement drunk punks tryna get a free ride because paying rent is THE MAN (I spent too much time living in a punk house lol), false-sense-of-entitlement abusive dudebros convoluting punk theory into a massive guilt trip about my having job/degree = fake/inauthentic, false-sense-of-entitlement white anarchoprimitivists, “”“accountability processes””“, uh “”“community”“”, etc.
I know those crappy things aren’t What Punk Is About but in my experience it’s just too easy for jerks to gravitate towards this particular subculture…the bad has outweighed the good for way too long for me and I’d rather not hang out in a scene that seems to harbor a shockingly overweighted percentage of drunk abusers. (MAYBE it is different in other cities HMM). & honestly I’ve found the ex-punk community far more welcoming and supportive than I ever felt when I was very actively In The Scene (hey y’all).
Anyway I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hijack this post so I’ll get off my soapbox and say that despite my apparent rejection of all things punk I really admire RBJ for successfully being a grown-up punk, continuing to romanticize everything in her writing which is an inspiration to me, constantly introducing me to new music, being a great mixtape-maker, being a fantastic writer, being an A+ mama, and generally being an all-around awesome person who I’m happy to have been friends with for a very long time.
(PS - Also, I’m kicking myself for having gotten a hand tattoo when I was 19. 19-year-old me thought it would be just grand to spend her entire life slinging coffee, washing dishes, or entering data in an office cave NOPE UGH WRONG.)