In the cemetery where Al Jolson is buried

On the morning she was moved to threw cemetery, the one where Al Jolson its buried, I enrolled in a"Fear of Flying"class.

"What is your worst fear?"the instructor asked, and I answered,"That I will finish this course and still be afraid."

I think of the chimp, the one one with the taking hands.

In the course of the experiment, that chimp has a baby.Imagine how her trainers must have thrilled when the mother, without prompting, began to sign to her new born.

Baby, drink milk.

Baby, play ball.

And when the baby died, the mother stood over the body, her wrinkled hands moving with animal grace, forming again and again the words: Baby, come hug, Baby, come hug, fluent now in the language of grief.

-Amy Hempel

Doggy style

I record my thoughts the way a dog marks his territory.

There seems to be a method to this madness.

Pink posterity

I've never been completely honest with any diary that I've confessed to...

a rosy posterity has always been more important than expiation 

or the pursuit of in self.

I am a liar,

to myself 

and 

more so to others...

Perhaps that is the only truth 

I can permit myself to disclose.

Martyr

Drinking black coffee made me feel like a martyr-some one who forgoes the pleasures of a creamy, frothy sweet coffee with the choicest of the toppings...

As a kid I faked an allergy to eggs to avoid eating them.I hated the way the yolk stinks.

Still do.

I've stopped eating simple carbs.

The object of my dieting was never weight loss or weight gain.

Self control.

Thats what it was.

And external control.

In a life that is largely run on schedules and timetables set by someone else, this is one small area where I can still wield power-exert some control-retain some sanity.

I've eschewed rice and roti and embraced eggs and beans.

I still don't like them...eggs, but I'm certainly not allergic to them.

Recently, after a short snorkelling session in the glassy waters of the cook islands, I found out that I'm allergic to sun...polymorphic light reaction is the medical terminology, but the results are large scale scaling of the skin...I turn reptilian, and itchy, and oozing red.

I switched over to chai recently.

It's tiring being a martyr.

My chai is light-just one teabag, very sweet-two heaps of sugar and one third milky.

The chai is an exception to my diet, but I do retain some control over it.Never more than a cup a day.

Some habits die hard.

I'm normalizing slowly, I think.

I'm normalizing...or thats what my intentions are.