spells of misery taking hold.  shall i keep track?  thursday i just about cried in yoga class.  some welling up on sunday afternoon. today i did, in fact, cry during my morning break.  i am finding it very difficult to maintain pretend happy enthusiasm at work.  which i ought to have expected considering my struggle to maintain pretend happy enthusiasm of a much lower level when in social situations.  but everything hinges on pretend happy these days...positive reinforcement to mould little children's behavior.  frightening really.  some high pitched caricature of the falsehood i get so rankled by in normal adulthood world (or some idea of normal adulthood world anyway). 

i had resolved to reassert health and wellness while sinking into the muck on sunday.  and went on a little bitty hike on the coastal trail.  fine.

but.

i hate this constellation of things: the unending fatigue, always hungry, those oh so unbecoming waves of worthlessness and how everything reminds me of this pitiful and wrong stasis. 

ever imagining that if i can just eat good nutrients and move and keep going it ought to be fine.  but. 

always that unfortunate qualifier statement.  oh that sinking pit of the stomach nonsense.  tightness in the chest.  sink, diffuse, and move on through please. 

moving on, yes?  so she says anyways.

in other news, irritated with myself and my anxiety.  we are having a charming get together.  many people to eat a swank vegan meal to be cooked by mysterious visiting vegan chef.  roommates happily prodding me to invite people.  makes me nervous as all hell.  but i sent emails and all that.  to the pseudo something danceable friends.  plus i think not psuedo pal of boston times.  it makes me stop digesting my food just to think of it.  fuck.

but everything will be fine (she pretends on her keyboard, practicing for work and for so-called play).

ho ho ho

in other news...i read milan kundera's identity quick quick quick.  all charms.  the end was a little erksome.  but really. all charms.  i recommend it.

also finished the bell and the butterfly.  not too thrilling really...though interesting mainly in the fact that it was written letter by letter according to a code based on the number of times the author (ex-editor of elle who had a stroke and locked in syndrome) blinked his left eye.  small little chapters with little autobiographical bits, memories, happenings in the hospital.

 good evening motime.  my blog is on a downturn.  or it was on a downturn commencing upturn?  dunno.  but definitely not tip tapping too much these days.  this whole pretending to be an adult among crazy kids all day takes it all out of me.  meanwhile.  also taking adventures on chartered green tortoise buses to the mojave desert to visit hotsprings and dance under the desert full moon takes something out of you too.  though puts something back in too.  so what can i say?  nothing too thrilling not quite. 

urges to write are tempered by a desire to not fill lines of text with frustrated complaint about absent aides and overabundance of children and the sinking sense of losing contro of various situations.  as i imagine these things will pass and am  trying not to dwell. 

happily, i think my post herniated disc back life seems on the up n up.  i started doing yoga again.  things seem to be moving twisting and sliding along more properly these days.  happy to feel like i am healing.  left foot still a little weaker and stiffer but the ol downward dogs feel pretty symmetrical as for as the feet go.  quite different from some months ago.  i even took time out at night in the desert to wander off and go through my watchamacallit.  under a certain influence.  such a curious feeling floating there in plank.  something seems all right body wise.  i like it. anyways...

so there was this beautiful scene.  this huge full moon slightly obscured by cracked little clouds slowly setting while opposite in the east rose up that desert sun and all the accompanying colors pinks purples pale greens.  incredible.  dancing out of night into day.  your friendly ecstatic nature moment.  these adventures keep getting better.  sense of strange progression. .  .   .

and those hotsprings.  lounging there after sleeping all the way down (this bus equipped with beds. swank. yes?).  naked in warm water under the nearly full moon? 

wow.

other things? hey. i made a friend.  coincidentally the roommate of the girlfriend of this other friend fellow of the psytrance scene who had previously surprised me with friendship intelligent conversation and silliness, also help with tax forms. neato.  a fairly funny kind of sullen eccentric fellow and a nice quiet sleeper with whom to share the bus bed.

scary: i saw a rattle snake.

also a mine shaft.  and supervised the improvised tool made to obtain a snakeskin on a ledge inside the mineshaft. 

i am taking an anatomy class.  no opinions yet. 

i finished hermann hesse's gertrude.

methinks tomorrow i will start the diving bell and the butterfly...

that's the life update.  minus daily details.  the almost black eye from my drunken roommate last weekend.  and the interrupted phone call from the oregon boy.

 it's a fine friday night in this big little city recently struck with a shivery fall sort of feeling.  california possibly turning me into some sort of weather wuss. but. i'm ok with that. not so cool and hip.  i've been sinking down every afternoon after work into a folded heap.  the combination of burning man and work week taking it all out of me.  sometimes i feel a bit like a crazy person with all this overemphatic reinforcement of little autistic children (good walking!  that's nice quiet sitting!  oh! good talking!  time to go to the bathroom!  good listening! etc).  though this employment seems to be shaping up far better than previous maddening periods of autistic children teaching.  though wiping shit off the bottoms of certain little poopie diaper people remains a most disgusting necessity.  gross. i can say this, at least: this mashed down sat upon for a few minutes diaper shit is a far cry from fifteen year old boy diarrhea erupting in the hilltop mall family bathroom. yes?  yes.  i can very well say this.  but. so. well. a small feeling of progress.  i think.  wondering if maybe perhaps well...could i do this for two years while i got prerequisites done for naturopathic medicince school (which are the same for medical school...still kind of sneaking around in the head back there...my degree-oriented ambition often resisted, but carefully planted in my self-evaluation system by my md phd mummy and, should one choose to believe, my being born in the year of the rooster (ho ho ho, she said))? 

after all, reading still life with woodpecker.  i see i see a good college read.  nothing too special too thrilling.  but entertaining.  a good thing to read for five or ten minutes during breaks at work.  though kind of wishing to be blown away by  some kinda ambiguous ironic yet not opaque work of fiction.  with ways with words all windy (like the clock not the weather).  but not too condescendingly over the top.  know what i mean?  or something so bare and spare where pretty phrases that take you all by surprise.  some perfect concise expression that knocks off your socks.  yes? 

so what can i say.  feeling like a regular person.  fairly content.  pretty much in order. saw old bostonian slash russian pal, ate much thai food.  domestic lesbian high school pal in town with her girlfriend.  all full of dim sum tasties. yum.  for the moment feeling not too disconnected from the universe.  i danced and watched the dawn all wide eyed beautiful distant and all that and flat.  the pinks and the purples and subtle little greens all came to greet me.  rumbling whirling dancing.  good. more to come in a few weeks in the mojave.  still stuck on my little ritual.  not sure if i am clutching to old things, embracing what i enjoy, appreciating me my body nature and such, or indulging beastly in my fanciful human neurochemistry.  well well. always a combination.  ever listing the factors, pretending they are separable, reassembling them into a dense crumpled balls and flicking them at people at appropriate moments.  oh well. i won't way a word.  ha ha ha. 

i'm told by email that there is a letter for me in the mail (funny how these various avenues of communication all serve to notify of messages coming by another road).  from that excellent fellow. this evokes a small expectant giddiness.  a tinge of embarrassment at this giddiness.  a comfortable pleasure in my middle.   a miniature pre melancholy at the thought of the gradual disentangling of our questionably tangled threads.  my self fulfilling doom thoughts.  ever eager to cramp my style.  cute as a button.