10:55 p.m. x 2010-11-03
currently listening to: "sleepyhead" by passion pit
ACK. i had this weird medical issue in high school that required invasive surgery and it was awful and weird and one of the very few things i Just Don't Talk About and it is recurring. after being totally gone for all these years. it strikes RIGHT when i don't have insurance. i am guarenteed to have insurance again in september which is now less than a year off and i maybe hopefully will again be a student by then anyway but WHAT. WHAT.
my mom panicked and said i should reconsider my diet, which i did not appreciate. i know she was just upset and groping for something to say but i eat vegetables and fruit and hummus and corn chips and multigrain anti-bread and all the awful things i used to love now make me violently ill (in an irrelated revolution staged by my innards i can no longer consume dairy or concentrated bread without getting viciously sick [headache/nausea/everything awful] and i don't eat meat anymore because it no longer tastes like anything - this is psychosomatic, i think, but i may as well roll with it).
recently somebody asked "WHAT DO YOU EAT ANYWAY" in response to my barrage of "can't eat that"s. i usually eat black beans, rice, hummus, pumpkin in any form (easy to get around here in the fall - like pumpkin bisque! motherfucker!), oatmeal, mushrooms, gala apples, saag, pad thai, mangos, pico de gallo - i am not really one for anything that pretends to be meat. i have yet to find a fulfilling dairy-cheese substitute. there are plenty of fruits and vegetables i despise. it is hard for me to not buy THE SAME THING ALL THE TIME when i go grocery shopping because grocery shopping is usually me dashing out of the car and grabbing what i need to take to work for the coming week on my own money, which is slight now that i am paying loans and working less.
but no, this has nothing to do with my diet. even if it did i wouldn't want to go back to eating meat and cheese to near exclusivity just to check.
I HAVE SUBMITTED MY NOVELLA TO THE CONTEST. and to my uncle, who is an english professor. i don't know him, but we have connected via the internet and he has expressed interest. i am pleased to get to know him in some manner since he is in china.
my novella is a weird little thing and sometimes i get insecure thinking about how weird but when i read it i'm reminded i am a good writer, i have written a good book, the writing is impressive, the story isn't aberrant and there is so much there. i am just i think very insecure about my writing being considered smutty or lurid when it isn't, when i know quite well how to do smutty and lurid and that isn't it. and there isn't anything wrong with smutty and lurid and i don't want to have that conversation and i don't want to invite it with the content of my novella it is a fact of human interaction but i think it is all me, all neurosis, having had this for so long stirring in my adolescent imagination and its beginnings were so purile, so kiddy, and i knew with such conviction that it was MORE THAN THAT. and it is now it is a real beautiful mature work for what it is.
i have now (talking about it always does this to me) submitted it to another press (it's been rejected elsewhere). i have applied for two jobs in the past week (adulty sit-down ones to supplement my dilettantish baristaship) and am working now on completeing a grad app. i am sliding into home with all this business now. i want to be DONE DONE DONE BEFORE THE SEVENTH OF DECEMBER. i am researching busses to providence. it is reasonable. I AM GOING. shelley jackson will be at brown and i have been promised a college visit anyway (i cannot visit them all, alas - i didn't even see lycoming before getting in).
if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start