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but do I have to eat?

I have not a great deal to say I don't think but sometimes I start with that and end up writing 1500-word treatises on.. something or other. so let's presume that at the moment I haven't the slightest idea how or if I am going to fill this screen with words.

therapy yesterday was sort of like being beamed across several lightyears of space for the first time (you know, because everybody's done it by now): matter being torn apart only it's you and then being reassembled completely elsewhere and it's still you but rearranged slightly. several times in the space of an hour. leaving you with a metaphysical hangover the size and approximate density of the black hole at the center of our galaxy.

I took a short walk today to philz to get some rocket fuel coffee to see if that would put some bounce in my step but all it did was warm up my insides uncomfortably to where I was starting to sweat while still shivering cold on the surface of my body. zyprexa screws up your autonomic thermoregulation or at least it can. my core can go from 98.6F to 104F in about five minutes of walking and/or drinking a hot beverage but my skin stays the same temperature as the air surrounding me. so the inside of my body thinks 'overheating!' and fires up the sweat glands while my skin is saying 'whoa! too cold!' and I am trying to regulate heat exchange with the atmosphere by removing my hat and then putting it back on at a frequency of about ten minutes.

when it is cold outside, and I mean reasonably cold where you can actually say 'hey it's cold' like under 45F, my body core will still get too hot no matter how gracefully I orchestrate the removal and rotation of layers of clothing and so as I walk down the street I am taking my hat off and putting it on while unzipping this layer and then the one underneath it or zipping them back up and removing my windbreaker or putting it back on and well I guess it keeps me busy. idle hands, devil's workshop and all.

ah you've heard it all before. I'm just as tired of it as you are.

there's nothing from yesterday to run by the friendslist or I would do so. what do you do when you are participating in a talking cure and you reach the limits of language? no, really. I want to know. I need to know.

thursday I go see my disability lawyer to sign an application for state disability insurance. I keep forgetting about that option. I don't know how much I can expect, since I have maybe two, three years of part-time teaching from which SDI has been drawn, but anything will be better than nothing. of course, I expect nothing, but I've been told that CA SDI is phenomenally easy to get. I'll believe it when I see the deposit or the check or whatever form it takes.

I keep thinking I should learn a few popular tunes on the guitar and go sing in a BART station. I even have a couple of books of riff charts and stuff that I've procured from here and there that could help but much like the chinese and sanskrit that I want to learn so that I can read canonical buddhist texts in their original languages, where available, and the Objective-C programming so that I can try developing OS X and iPhone applications, I not only have to decide which to do and which to neglect--decisions to neglect always being painful--but I have to find the motivation once I've decided on a course of action.

or it may be that I search for motivation before choosing course of action and when there is none or no energy to back it up, I try going for a walk which takes me around a 1-mile long block and brings me back home sweating and freezing at the same time.

because I decided to have a small-scale freakout instead of writing a preemptive letter to my folks I think that soon there will be an xxxxxxmas package for me in the mail. joy. I always feel as though I cannot throw it away without opening it, like I'll get struck by lightning or bad karma or something. I mean, I know I should pull the chocolates out before I do that, but otherwise every year I think well maybe there will be something in there that I actually find interesting or useful but it never happens and instead I get kitschy trinkets that are grossly inappropriate for an adult male. even a gay adult male would find these things repulsive. and I do. but really that's not the problem. the problem is that these gifts are not even addressed to me. they come to my house, but they are not addressed to me. but I'm supposed to open them and feel grateful that they are thinking about someone who is not me.

so maybe this year I'll pull the chocolates and toss the rest and see if I get an extra day in hell for having done that.

I have a folder of lolcat pics that I've collected; there's an alias on my desktop so that I can drag them right out of my browser into the folder. I look through them occasionally not only so I can laugh but to prove that I have a sense of humor. I really do! it's been a very difficult last few weeks/months, though.

I also want to get back to researching the neolithic revolution in Europe as well as Europe's conquest by Christianity. i still want to know what went wrong and I think it lies in one of those two rather longish moments. what I'm finding though is that I still end up arguing with almost every book I read and this slows research down because I have to take notes of the arguments. especially in prehistoric archaeology: bunch of European men making things up according to how life is currently lived in Europe! how this is supposed to be applicable to Western Asian groups of hunter-gatherers is beyond me but they eat each others' theories up like they explain something when all they really explain are the political, economic and social views of any given archeaologist.

no offense if you are an archaeologist but I am still trying to find an archaeological text that is aware of the context in which it is being created. anyone happen to know of any I would love to read one. I've tried Ian Hodder but he writes as though his knowledge of postmodern theory was gleaned from American newspaper clippings, so his efforts to respond to its ethical demands are, well, simplistic if well-intentioned. I know he teaches at Stanford and maybe I should try to correspond with him but that would be another social demand and I don't know.. I've flaked on a lot of people because at some point I always get squirrelly and am trying not to add to that column. not that anyone but me is taking count.

there're still Judith and Lyn and Felipe but Judith and Lyn are busy organizing the faculty end of UC protests and I have had little energy this semester for forays over to Dwinelle Hall where Felipe spends much of his time. and yet with just three names my dance card seems full. what on earth would I do with fame if I actually had it? it would be hell on earth.

still want it.


Dec. 10th, 2009 12:31 am (UTC)
ah, that jackson! :D

ouch is right on the cat bites. zack's only accidentally ever nipped me, but yow. he's very patient, really, with me and with the vet and the tech when i take him in -- doesn't scratch or bite. bless his kitty heart.
Dec. 10th, 2009 02:51 am (UTC)
Jackson and Santiago are both very good patients: Jackson turns into a lump of absolute meekness (er, he becomes even more of one, I should say), whereas Santiago turns on the charm even when he is deathly ill. sweet boys.

I think I've mentioned in my journal that I have seen cats go all the way around a room without touching the floor, right? and not by jumping from counter to counter: literally bouncing off the walls! welder's gloves and fishing nets for them. =:0
Dec. 10th, 2009 12:50 pm (UTC)
they don't touch the floor? good grief. yeah, i must be really lucky that ol' zack just meows a lot and sheds!


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