like a bad-tempered prom-queen

I'm fascinated with the cardinal vowels and how they anchor the extremes from high-front to low-back. Having thoughts of burning a cd of Ladefoged repeating them so I can walk around

"eeeeeaaaaahhhhoooooohhhhuuuuuu"

The sleeping is getting better. Mom suggested no caffine after 5pm, and limited beverages in general after 7pm.

So I don't pee in the bed, I guess.

The other thing that I believe is helping me sleep better, is that the whole distraction throughout the night was my mental processes.

Now that I'm aware of my own need to control my mind, my mind is becoming more controlled.

Before it was as though my brain was intent on keeping me alert during the night, until I heard my neighbor wake up, and then my brain relaxed.

Now that my mind is pissed at my brain for being so paranoid, my brain is sort of calming down.

Like it's learning to trust me.

Mind control is so important, when it is one's own mind she seeks to control.

If only I could concentrate and study more. More? goodgod.

There was a time when people found my journal through all sorts of crazy searches, but since last October when my NY boss found the ole Justcircles on Google by searching his son's name (shitshit) I put an HTML block in my template so search-engines couldn't find me. This explains the lockage of last fall and the purging of any personal names for my employers in NY.

The only thing I regret about the block is that people no longer find my journal by searching song lyrics. That was the recurrent theme of searches, and I felt sort of good for (maybe) helping some people figure stuff out.

Because I listen to really fabulous music.

Like when an Interpol song played on Friends (when Joey kissed Rachel), and people who didn't know the song sought such information, which I provided.

My work there was done.

This weekend will be busy, which is good, because when my study time is restricted then I tend to study more intensively.

Karaoke tonight.

Party tomorrow.

Rent Saturday.

Suberbowl Sunday.

Joe is getting a Mastif puppy this weekend, and I'm really excited. I don't even particularly like dogs, but I think he'll be a good daddy.

It's just a thrill to see a friend add something as potentially meaningful as a pet to his life.

Two cartons of cigarettes came in the mail for me yesterday, so today I'm smoking Nat Shermans.

You know how when you get lonely, you think back on people who you used to really, really care about? And your memory shrouds them in this perfection that excludes any of the reasons why you stopped really, really caring about them? So you think if you saw them again then they'd be just what you needed because so much time had gone by that surely the two of you could ignore - or, better, reconcile - those differences?

I hate it when that happens.