- Mood: a little buzzed but tired and hungry...
- Music: it's a Bob Dylan Sunday today...
been a terribly busy week. out of the slump i was in last week and haven't had anytime to do anything personal at all. classes and classwork have kept me at full tilt. the hot tub at the club is broken for about a week now, and i haven't even had time to go use it even though i really need to. i had been planning all week to go to Santa Cruz today - and the weather is fine for a drive there and a dip in the ocean today but i'm just too whacked. started to suffer a pretty severe alergy attack last night, sinus headache this morning. i dunno, maybe i could still go. got too much work to do though. have to create a webpage for my final project for one of my library classes that is due next saturday. and i am having trouble getting focused. i think i'll stay home and work, get this class finished and then next sunday after this class is all over i'll go to Santa Cruz so that i can really relax and celebrate. that makes more sense. the other thing i'm noticing is that my appetite IS all screwed up. taking the Topamax at night time means that i wake up with no appetite for breakfast. i never eat until 4pm. on top of that it's a form of self abuse. and the money excuse plays into it too. "i don't have enough money to buy food..." my dear cousin gave me a birthday present, not what i was expecting, or hoping for, but it is AWESOME. i have to be careful with it though as it is very powerful. basically it is a necklace with an image of an egyptian god on it, one that holds a scribe and is writing. but on the night of the full moon she empowered it. she is a wiccan. i've been wearing it for a couple of days and now realize that i shouldn't do that. i will only wear it when i am ready to sit and work on my novel. well, it is only 1:30 and i am actually feeling hungry. and i do crave some indian food, so maybe i will go get some?
there are some comments i made about the last pdoc visit after he read the last letter at STRINGIER THAN THE TRUTH.
I Shall Be Free No. 10
I'm just average, common too
I'm just like him, the same as you
I'm everybody's brother and son
I ain't different from anyone
It ain't no use a-talking to me
It's just the same as talking to you.
I was shadow-boxing earlier in the day
I figured I was ready for Cassius Clay
I said "Fee, fie, fo, fum, Cassius Clay, here I come
26, 27, 28, 29, I'm gonna make your face look just like mine
Five, four, three, two, one, Cassius Clay you'd better run
99, 100, 101, 102, your ma won't even recognize you
14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, gonna knock him clean right out of his spleen."
Well, I don't know, but I've been told
The streets in heaven are lined with gold
I ask you how things could get much worse
If the Russians happen to get up there first.
Wowee' pretty scary!
Now, I'm liberal, but to a degree
I want ev'rybody to be free
But if you think that I'll let Barry Goldwater
Move in next door and marry my daughter
You must think I'm crazy!
I wouldn't let him do it for all the farms in Cuba.
Well, I set my monkey on the log
And ordered him to do the Dog
He wagged his tail and shook his head
And he went and did the Cat instead
He's a weird monkey, very funky.
I sat with my high-heeled sneakers on
Waiting to play tennis in the noonday sun
I had my white shorts rolled up past my waist
And my wig-hat was falling in my face
But they wouldn't let me on the tennis court.
I gotta woman, she's so mean
She sticks my boots in the washing machine
Sticks me with buckshot when I'm nude
Puts bubblegum in my food
She's funny, wants my money, calls me "honey."
Now I gotta friend who spends his life
Stabbing my picture with a bowie-knife
Dreams of strangling me with a scarf
When my name comes up he pretends to barf.
I've got a million friends!
Now they asked me to read a poem
At the sorority sister's home
I got knocked down and my head was swimmin'
I wound up with the Dean of Women
Yippee! I'm a poet, and I know it.
Hope I don't blow it.
I'm gonna grow my hair down to my feet so strange
So I look like a walking mountain range
And I'm gonna ride into Omaha on a horse
Out to the country club and the golf course.
Carry the New York Times, shoot a few holes, blow their minds.
Now you're probably wondering by now
Just what this song is all about
What's probably got you baffled more
Is what this thing here is for.
It's nothing
It's something I learned over in England.
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and Wishing You All The Best For 2007 
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