tiny bubbles

Back in the saddle after spending a day out of commission. I wasn't horribly sick -- but it was sure nice to keep my ass on the futon all day. I watched only two things: the Star Trek TNG marathon on TNN (formerly The Nashville Network, but now it's apprantly The National Network), and the best tv movie of all time, See Jane Run, starring the new queen of tv movies, Joanna Kerns. I believe she has surpassed Meredith Baxter Birney. Plus, I think Joanna is hotter. What's wrong with me? Absolutely nothing. Between Joanna and Gates McFadden, I was a happy happy sick boy.

Stayed home last night, though I did leave the house to take a walk, which is good, and spent more time watching TV (Buffy) and talking on the phone (Tara and Damon). My boy's got a hot lunch date today, so hoepfully that will go well for him. She's a former porn director and dominatrix in NYC, but now she work as a director at the Art Institute. Hmmm.

Also, a happy happy birthday to Mr. LegalMoose. May all his birthday dreams come true -- especially the hot and wet ones.

Tonight is therapy. Feeling sort of neutral about it. Probably because I'm still feeling weird about having not written to my parents yet. Maybe I'm just not ready since I don't seem very capable of dealing with it as effectively. In fact, I'm not dealing at all. But I guess that's what I'll talk about tonight.

This morning before going to work I spent 5 minutes scratching and cutting up Dinah Shore's Any Place I Hang My Hat is Home. I'm a freak. But it sounded good as hell. However I realized that I either need new cartridges, or perhaps just a nickel to tape on the head because it kept skipping. Though I think I also need to adjust my touch -- I'm so heavy handed at times.

Have I mentioned lately that I love olives? Mmmmmmmmmm.......

(no subject)

I've sort of resisted talking about my current feeling of low-ness, perhaps for not wanting to sound like a drama queen. It's weird when my tone suddenly is affected not by the fact that people will read my words, but that people will comment. It's very rare that I don't want to hear responses from people. But when it happens, it's a very strong feeling.

I think I'having delayed feelings of 'depression' right now -- a lot of isht has gone down in the past month, and so all of my emotional energy just went into coping with the actual problems, whether they had to do with moving, my relationship, my jealousy, my friends, my parents, fears of an unsafe world, work, whatever. And now things have settled and all is well in the world of Raymond, supposedly, which makes me feel weird when I'm compelled to not leave the house. Or leave the house in my own private bubble, protected by headphones (whether the walkman is on or not), a magazine, and a cigarette. All my senses are then focused or controlled, and I can easily fight off any stimuli. I struggle to pick up the phone and dial numbers and converse with people that I like and love and need to talk to or want to talk to -- and hang up the phone completely drained of all emotional energy. This is also why I'm unable to even begin to construct a letter to my parents. If I'm unwilling to make small talk with close friends, how am I supposed to venture into intimacy with people I don't trust?

I'm having physical symptoms of previous "depressions", just not as severe. And I don't want to indulge them at all, whic is also new. I don't feel compelled to just sit and let them pass and wait for the cycle to get back to the top. I just want to flip a switch. I want to turn on the light and yell at the shadows to go away.

I haven't taken my anxiety stuff in awhile. I just took a pill. So who knows. I haven't necessarily felt anxious, so to speak, in awhile which is why I wasn't taking them. I'm feeling compelled to sleep all the time, so a relaxant isn't necessarily called for (versus the periods in the past couple months where I would grind my teeth all night while wrestling with the covers and running in my sleep -- what's up with waking up and having sore legs??). But I should realize that the same part of my brain that causes any physical depression also causes physical anxiety and it all seems so gloriously stupid since I don't feel like I can stake any claims. Nor do I want to.

I almost made this a "friends-only" post but why the hell does it even make a difference? People I don't know may read this or mgith not but it doesn't really matter. If anything, I'd be more likely to make it a non-friends-only post. As in only "non-friends" could read it. Because I like to hide, I guess. Whatever -- it's my journal, as one would say.

And I guess I sort of just forced myself to write this because I needed to rant a bit and get it out there, but also so I can look back and try and find patterns or at least look back and realize, yes, I was a little bit aware despite any attempts on my part to deny, and no, things weren't as bad as this post makes them seem, but yes, they did exist.

11:11. Make a wish.

"the niceties are the first to go."

for some reason I've recently taken to passing the time with the game of "what if $5,000 were to suddenly be made available to be in a non-loan form?"

today, $1000 of it would go towards the Roland CDX1. though it's so new, I don't trust it yet. I need it to be reviewed in a trade publication first....

i'm sooooo hungry. I can't wait on Damon anymore -- I have to start heating up my food.

"I didn't know PM Dawn had a best-of album."

So, I should probably get to work if I'm hoping to be chosen as a MacArthur Fellow in the next 10 years. In the meantime, maybe I can acquire my $5,000 in similar ways. Hell, even $500 would be helpful. This all got started because I looked up my stupid scuptor prof who I loathe/love/hate/obsess/stalk/whatever and found out that she got some grant this summer for $10,000. Damn. This woman knows her contemporary isht, but as an overall artist, she sucks. And that's my professional opinion. Ok, ok, she doesn't really suck. But the point of all this silliness is that I feel I have at least a tenth of her talent, therefore I could qualify for a grant that one-tenth of that amounth. Maybe even more. So now I'm doing some research. Of course, I might have to do a demo to send a proposal. But I need a grant to make a demo. Why do I need ID to get ID?

In other related news, I bought the new issue of Mix, which went up in price by one dollar, but it's twice as thick. I also bought MC2 which has Bj--k on the cover. Tonight I'm doing more studying. I started on Monday night, and got through the section on sound and the physics of it. Luckily I skim through that and get to the section of coaxial cables and such, i.e. the new stuff.

Why do I think it weird that she bought Pearl Jam's first album? Am I that big of a music knowledge snob (i.e. why are you so damn late)? Or am I just envious of her ability to find something refreshing about an item that was beaten into the ground for me? I'm probably just negative because I have no energy. Had lunch with Damon and that drained everything out of me. If I'm planing on opening my mouth to my therapist as all tonight, I need to be quite for a couple hours.

Perhaps I will go treat myself to chocolate right now. I wish I had remembered my sour brite crawlers -- not to be confused with sour gummi worms. Two totally different candies....