BACK IN MY OWN HEAD

Today I really realized just how nice it feels to be rid of culture shock. The whole time I was in London between March and June, I was so scared and so upset all of the time. It was horrible. I was a gazillion miles from anything familiar, the one person I knew best was constantly being mean to me, and everything was just so difficult. I cried every single day.

Today I feel perfectly all right. I mean, sure, I'm worried about this thing or that thing, but for the most part I feel like I can handle it. Like everything is going to be just fine.

I slept for twelve hours last night, by the way. I was utterly exhausted.

Sorry to interrupt this train of thought, but the guy sitting next to me is listening to the new David Bowie album on his walkman, loudly enough that I can tell you he's listening to the new David Bowie. Er, that one that's a cover of a Pixies tune.

So I've found a synagogue I'm going to try out next weekend, and hopefully this one won't be racist and horrible.

I don't have anything interesting to say.

How is today different from all other days?

I ask you.

STALKER

This stalker has already ceased to be amusing again. There's nothing like spending a really long day in which everything is an effort and everything goes wrong, and then coming home to read hate mail that some psychotic freak has sent to your email account.

Feh.

YET AGAIN I AM AN IDIOT

So last night at the party I said another one of those stupid things I sometimes say.

We were talking about this new rash of "humanising Hitler" movies that are coming out. Someone was talking about how he clearly had some kind of charm, and we were all guessing what that would be.

"It's that little moustache," I said. "It just kills me."

Then, after a brief pause, I said, "Come to think of it, it killed most of my family, too."

Dead silence.

Oy.

MY FEEBLE HEART

I wish it was possible to have my brain completely override my heart. I mean, how many times have I known that I really should hate someone, and I can't? I wish so much that it was really that easy. To acknowledge that I should, and then that's it. It's over.

Last night we had a great Buffy party, of course. Afterwards, I had two different people talk to me and ask me why I can't date people who are more like my ex. Who just so happens to be exactly what and who I always wanted. I know I couldn't marry him again, but I also know that the person my heart last fell in love with will never be half the person Michael is, simply because he will never choose to be. And even when I realized that, I couldn't force myself not to be in love with him.

Oh, well. Maybe the thing to learn is that you have to do what you have to do in spite of your heart.

This lesson sucks, in my humble opinion.

Anyway, I didn't get enough sleep last night (hellooooo, insomnia!) and I have too much to do today. More later.

STALKERS AND THINGS

I have so much work to do, and yet I can't concentrate because I'm waiting for a very exciting package from FedEx, and after it arrives, it will set off a chain of events that should keep me busy for quite some time.

In the meantime, I'm not quite sure how to feel about the fact that my most entertaining stalker is back. I'm not really afraid of him, because he's too stupid to be dangerous. At this point it's more like Found Performance Art. The guy is completely wacked. His emails always have these sinister implications surrounded by many ellipses. You can see his eyebrows twitching as he types.

He won't be able to find me anyway, so why worry?

By the way, the epicenter of the 7.9 earthquake yesterday was about 50 miles from my hometown. The only injury I've heard of was a woman in her 70s who fell down the stairs trying to get out of her house, and broke her arm. Not too bad, considering. We sent someone over to look at the house, but I haven't heard back yet on anything. It would be a serious bummer to lose my parents' things, but I'm mostly just glad that everyone is all right.

My sister, Leslie had surgery yesterday, and the results of the biopsy should come back soon, so I'll know whether or not she's dying. Somehow it puts the whole house thing in perspective.

Later I might post some of the more hilarious stalker mail, but at the moment I should probably get back to work.