You gave me hyacinths first a year ago. They called me the hyacinth girl.

currently listening to: "how do" by sneaker pimps

have completed "daria" in its entirety. finished perversity think tank in one sitting and it cheered me up more than i could have dreamt possible. pizza made me sick/gave me a ferocious headache and i think i have to completely abandon dairy and bread. if i want to avoid illness of such ferocity, that is. i do. jesus. this came out of nowhere. my mom took me grocery shopping and we got almond milk and a nuclear stockpile of hummus, bruschetta, black beans and other such legumes that i don't have a problem digesting.

i am more than halfway through violette leduc's la batarde, which i got in new york, and dangerous muse (caroline blackwood biography) and the collected works of jane bowles now reside in my queue. this is called moving: a critical poetics of film is speeding towards me. the joy of reading for pleasure has not diminished in any capacity. it keeps me feeling challenged.

AND MY COPY OF "UNE FEMME EST UNE FEMME" ARRIVED. it wasn't the one i ordered last month, because amazon was not straightforward with me about it being in stock - i ordered it used and it arrived with the disc peeking out from the box, which was harrowing. but it played fine. so i will not worry about it. i adore the movie and i think i might watch it again tonight. anna karina transports me.

i am feeling better and better and better. it is silly. i know it is only a matter of time before i forget about it all. as soon as something else occupies my attention with such vigor. and something always does. it sincerely comforted me to read that supervert feels falling in lust is a sensation not unlike brain damage. i only hope that next time this happens i can eat while i suffer. there is no concise way for me to phrase how stupid and awful that was. it was not entirely the fault of my utterly inconvinient crush - i probably would have experienced something like it anyway - but it really aggravated my torrential loss of appetite and elevated it to a wee thanatopsis. i think it's the change of lifestyle in as far as work shifting to the forefront rather than school. i went completely insane when i started my last job, too.

i think i am on my way to making friends, though. real friends. besides him, though i ardently wish to be friends with him because i like him so much and we have so much in common and aside from one or two pretty staggering aspects he is precisely the kind of person i like to be around. but lots of people like me and i like them. i got the hint the other day that i have a reputation for professionalism (where people get these ideas...) and am greatly admired. i am honored.

and that specific, miserable lonely that knows what it is missing and cannot mold itself to fit any other filler than what it has gaped itself around - lame! so fucking lame!

i think about him and i think about the observations i have made: how he emotes, his posture, his inconsistencies in behavior and his default reactions/responses - to me and to others. how he presents and extends things to me. the him of my fantasy: i cannot - i don't think i ever have, so this doesn't indicate anything about him - plant designs in him verbally, i never imagine him making pronouncements, telling me things. i never imagine men telling me things. i am all the more shocked and delighted when they say things that i want said to me. i only think about acts and that has, in the past, been tough, but not with him. before i've rarely gotten past the romantic and it has been hard for me, no matter how much sex played into it, to imagine such a scenario. it isn't anymore. i have given no thought to romance. he has, inadvertently, done the most romantic things a man can do for me (in terms of our perscribed relationship) and so i don't need to worry about that. his fulfillment there only fuels my preoccupation. the extent to which i do not know him keeps the fantasy exclusively and extremely animalistic, cathartic, void of sense and reason.

one day soon i know it will all be gone, but how interesting. for me. it's all new. it's always new.

this has taught me much about my attitude towards unions. the remnants of what i thought growing up i ought to want has corroded viciously since starting to date, and with it anxieties and concerns have fallen away, leaving the view clear for financial, career and self-fulfillment to take much healthier places on my horizon. worrying about relationships to me is like worrying about losing weight: when it is not my focus, it comes. naturally, healthily, with no neuroses, nothing one can find in the DSM-V. and what is more i do not worry about where those relationships will lead. i know what i would like to do: i would like to have my masters, i would like a small but functional livingspace, i would like a job that i enjoy, i would like to work hard, i would like to have friends, i would like to write. either that jives with my hypothetical other, in which case things might go very well for a very long time, or it doesn't, in which case things might not go so well - either swiftly or after a long, drawn out, perversely rewarding affair. anything could happen. and i'm fine with anything.

i don't have any concept of security when it comes to other people. that strikes me as counterproductive.

if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
JOBJOBJOB
interviewinterviewinterview
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start
(& etc)