"her psychology today" or how i learned to stop loving and worry the bomb
2002-08-27 7:07 p.m.

situations are still tearing at me.
heidegger is despicable.
i'm stinky.
heidegger is beautiful.
and i tried.

micah is still. micah. at least for tonight, i think. sunday was no good at all. i think (i hope) he's going to call the army people tomorrow. whoever the army people are. its very scary. on monday his sister called, and his mother, and his sister's boyfriend, george, who i understand is a black leather jacket wearing italian. and very nice. i've never met any of these people before, and its the most awkward and awful of circumstances to be introduced to each other.

while i talked with him this morning, he quoted a book he was reading. i asked him which book, but he wouldn't tell me. i wish that such tiny acts as this wouldn't bring me to tears. i don't think they should let me go out in the world, anymore.

because of all the unnerving activity this week, classes seemed to go amazingly smoothly. except for the fact that i'm attending 24 units, enrolled in 16 but trying to swap two courses with another two. so i've been learning introductory sorts of things about moral psychology, chinese and ancient philosophy, hume, wittgenstein, and heidegger. chinese philosophy is taught by a very witty man from denmark. who speaks english superbly except when he composed the beginning of a sentence, "confucius, the wisecracking sage..." maybe confucius really was a wisecracking sage, though. heidegger is taught by my former advisor dreyfus, who is a dearheart. i tell you, if i was 70, i'd be all over him. i'd so have done him by now. if he were still capable of doing, which he probably is. he's putting up audio of the lectures online to encourage students to stay home. there are too many of them for the class room.

(it just so happens that sexy hot girlfriend of the infamous carlo sat next to me. i hate carlo, whom i don't even know. see myriad entries in former diary for development of unjustified hatred. but she's like twice as hot now because she's stopped wearing fake boobage and her hair's twice as long as last semester. why do pretty girls make me so nervous? i'm not a dykerider. i'm not even a dyke. i'm not even a sexual being. i'm not even a being. i guess its hard for me to grasp that some girls can really look so perfect. its like sitting next to a beautiful melody... in a sentimental and stupid way... you know you'll never be the melody, but you wish you sounded sweet enough to sing along. there is my daily trite assed sappy metaphor, diary. i'll spare you from here on out. maybe.)

in moral psychology, i was nice and managed to lend the professor my watch without having to speak. i was closest see. a note to any fellow students: if you lend the professor your watch, um, you won't get to see what time it is. which is kind of hard to deal with in the last hour of a sixhoursstraight period of lectures. also, you probably want to make sure your watch isn't slow. or other students will get pissed and jump you on your way to the bus stop. and nobody will have your back.

hume was pretty good. ideally i'll take hume and heidegger, and nix ludwig. even though i think that would be the most interesting, we're required to have discussion in lecture. grade based discussion. in a lecture of 55 i think. sigh.

i realized today... being unbearably self conscious and shy takes up a lot of time, you know? it really does. getting ready in the morning can take 1 to 2 hours. and makeup application is seldom a part of my life most days, so that is, of course, excluded. meaning i look like trash, but i've put a lot of effort into cultivating my generic "please let me go unnoticed" look. i don't really have time for. life.

lets face it, i haven't done anything, outside of academic obligations, with anybody besides ben, or micah, in. ages. and i'm not even lonely. or i'm so lonely that i don't recognize it anymore. so it goes.

maybe its cause i do things like read an old copy of mother night which has a huge swastika on it while listening to a heidegger lecture. you assfaced nazi.

maybe its cause i stink. i decided i would fast. gaymo. it started sunday evening and was ended today by a tomato. and some more tomatoes. corn. i binged and purged on garden food. homemade jam. if i'm breaking my fast, at least i can be frugal about it, right? so i'm going start again. i guess. except i stink so much when i fast. i sweat like a pig. which is better than eating like a pig, but neither choice is particularly feminine. in the winter, i freeze. everything is just off kilter when you fast, i guess. but today i sweated. i swat. today's sweat was silly though. i didn't want to take off my sweater cause i was wearing a tank top and didn't want to expose other people to me so tank topped. instead, i sat starving and sweating in a basement lecture hall in which everybody was fanning themselves because at 90, it was one of the hottest berkeley days all summer. i think. i think i'm so stupid, diary. i thought i was going to faint. except i couldn't do that to the danish chinese philosophy professor. because he reminds me of mork. if mork had studied in china after leaving mindy and had gone gray and sounded like he should be a professional fairytale reader.

i'm so so stupid, diary. sometimes you just have to write. about how stupid you are. like its a confession. but i don't think i'd want to live in a world without guilt. so confession is meaningless.

enough is enough. david the jazz piano player and law student is moving out. so his apartment is very nice and much larger than my studio and available. won't you be my neighbor?

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