Yesterday Laura praised me and praised me and praised me for the new routine I'm doing till I didn't know which way to look. I wonder if there was any ulterior motive or if I'm being cynical. But if I'm good, it's all Steve's work really. He's uber-patient, kind and so flamboyantly gay. I had to throw that in there. I adore him and his exuberant gay-titude. It's good to have such a great teacher.

I get the whole Classics thing. Take North and South

From the silent laughter over Mr Thornton's "oh Margaret"-ing when I was fourteen or fifteen to my more curious porings over the depiction of the strike in industrial revolution England and the economics of it now. Different things strike me every time I read it

Half an hour of talk with Becker.

And I don't think I make much of an impression.

Sigh. I am not impressive at first glance. And it is questionable if that changes thereon. Too many uses of the 'impression' word. And (mope)

In other news the vivid dreaming continues. I dreamt I was put on my first case as a full time consultant. This means I dreamt all night of working really really hard and solving problems in my sleep. I was also married for five years in the same dream although I have no idea who the husband was supposed to be. I was painting glassware (this biiiiig crystal bowl) for the upcoming anniversary in my free time (which luckily there was very little of in this dream) and discussing the painting and designs with 3 housewives who were supposed to be friends (but who don't exist in real life). I think I must be really disturbed subconsciously and have real fears about becoming domestic. Ha! No fear of that. I don't have many domestic bones in my body.

Giffen, meet Veblen

Fascinated with upward sloping demand curves. It's good I'm taking the economic analysis class. It keeps my head out of theoretical quirks like these curves and forces me to think and apply in a real way.

Prayer

There's something to be said for unburdening your heart. Even if it involves heavy showers and being helplessly upset. The knots unwring, the places that ache get a little respite and everything is cleaner for the sunlight

I look outside and I can see so much that is beautiful that I can't believe a little while ago I wanted to numb myself to sleep. The clouds grow in momentum behind the peaks of the buildings across the silent river but the moon seems to edge ever away from their rising reach.

Please let me ever ever see what is beautiful and marvelous wherever I find myself, in both happiness and despair.

Edit: Unburdening can also give you terrible dreams. I, for whatever god forsaken reason, dreamt that I was going to get married to Harbhajan Singh. I was desperately trying to wake up all night. I succeeded at around six and feel like I didn't sleep all night.

Convection currents work!

I was doing stretches at home when I realised something. Hands held up high - warm air. Hands by my side, cold air. By golly. The hot air rises to the top!

Of course the effect was heightened by there being a ready stream of both hot air (heater) and cold (window open a crack) but stilllllllllllll

Physics moment (hugging self)

Bad things seem worst just before you sleep and then when you wake up. When you sleep, the dark of night and the alone-ness of it all distorts all rational thought. And when you wake the thought of the long day before you can be wrecking. But when actually up and doing things, it's not as bad. Especially when these "bad" things are really a product of my imagination.

On another note, I am such an awful person. I had the most pleasurable smug grin from reading someone else's resume. Sounth Asia and terchnical, anyone? There is nothing like a good dose of healthy contempt to cheer one up.

Cheerleader

"You're not stupid. Not very, anyway"

I've always been a little indisciplined. I find it hard to concentrate long on a particular thing. It's a kind of ADHD. I've tried to shut my thoughts down but sometimes they buzz in my head so fast and so hard that I'm dazzled and have to look. This isn't good for me. I can't crave excitement all the time. I need to slow down, to settle and enjoy the steady.

Of course there's a point to all of this. And not least is the fact I have three assignments to complete today and all I want to do is read, sleep and watch movies

The art of peace and concentration is in ignoring the distractions. Even when they're niggling at the corner of your eye, saying, "stop working and play!"

Ah, if only

Patience.

I'm so fidgety in dance class. I swing from extremes, from triumph at mastering something for the first time to vales of despair if I don't get something immediately. Must... be... patient... or my teachers will lob footstools at me.

I nearly punched one of my teachers, not because of him, but because I had to fly at something from my frustration. I went for the wall instead. Must not become the Hulk. Must submit to the inevitable slow learning process.

Was reading about the impostor syndrome. I was just imagining that agreeing that you had the impostor syndrome must be the first step to understanding that you tend to downplay your own role in any achievements. A sort of "Aha, I have this syndrome. I must have won those awards all by myself (dawning realisation)"

or something like that...

Success

Fed eight people without running out of food or drink while guests seemed pleased with food.

Kept them around for three hours with only conversation.

Did not feel fatigued or lagged :)

Happy now to be out of jet lag and to feel a little bit more in tune with people

I am so hungry these days yet feel so fastidious. I'll be starving but to see the food in the cafe under its bright lights, glistening I'll turn away to get a nice tub of yoghurt and orange juice. I'll think and look and think of what else I could want, but I don't really want anything there. Hungry and clutching my side I pay and eat my yoghurt and drink the juice. I'm still hungry.

I got home hungry and faint. I took out my big carton of juice and guzzled it. I'm still hungry. I had some cheese and bread. The immediate need has been met. But what will I do for dinner? I feel like there is a hole in my stomach that nothing here is worthy of filling. Stupid Singapore and its good food.

I hate feeling hungry. Hungry Hungry HUNGRY

Oh God. So hungry. I fear I'm going to have to go to a restaurant and get some good food. Or cook? I don't want to cook. but I'm so HUNGRY

A man on tv wiped his eyes as he spoke of his old dog who had passed away. I mirrored his action.

oh Brutus.

I just finished an assignment and I'm feeling buzzed. Why do I procrastinate?

And yet, I'm just going to go and do it all over again...

On another note, I'm writing an awful lot in you... You're my shrink. The school counselor couldn't hold a candle to you. That was just plain silly. It's basically when you want an outside voice to bolster your inside voice. Or maybe when your inside voice is a little ill or badly callibrated. You do that for me. I write my heart out, either directly or indirectly and edited and then when it's on paper it makes it all a little more objective and makes me laugh a little at myself. All my big problems, all my self aggrandized issues and the roommates of my brain-case: ego, doubt and immaturity; they come into proportion and I know a little peace.

Mental equivalent of a calm sunny room in my head and me in a rocking chair.

"You seem so mature for 26."

Really? What do women of 26 do? Traipse around? Play practical jokes on their Deans? Do everything to excess?

Alas, I was born 40. And proper.

Now shoo, I'm going to bed early on Saturday night.

Fool, Buffoon, Imbecile

I am such an idiot.

(thinking of ways to make it okay...)

When things don't go the way I secretly want them to, I feel bitter.

When good things happen, I wonder how my enemies and ill-wishers will feel

When doing the right thing, I let the thought of shame influence me to do it instead of the principles that make that decision right

This is wrong. I am in myself, the most anyone can ever be to me. Why can I not be more graceful in accepting that which has happened?

I shouldn't be like a mouse, presented with a toy sniffing at it, looking around anxiously to see what everyone else thinks of my toy before deciding how I feel. I'm going to be a big happy dog with a bone in my mouth chewing peacefully under the sun.

Five thirty in the morning and I'm so hungry I feel like writing poetry to a gorgeous crusty sour cherry pie.

Overwhelmed with hunger. That's an emotion skipped over by most poets. I sense a niche here...

Edit at 6:49: Hungry!!!!

Everything is blurring together

Mcdonalds breakfast:

salty sausage mcmuffins. So much for vegetarianism. Tomorrow, tomorrow

Unpack:

where did it all come from and where will it go?

Nap:

Only, I couldn't sleep despite the heavy grogginess

E(x):0

+-infinity

Cha-Cha turns

one-two-twist-stick knee out-kick-three-cha-cha

No movie:

will probably fall asleep through it since people are keen to go late

What will tomorrow hold?

More breakfast, more dancing, more school, less jetlag and if I'm very good, added credits toward permission to buy and wolf a whole cherry pie.

Back in Chicago. Thank goodness I landed in the afternoon and got back when my room was flooded with light. That cheered me up a little. Now, jet lag and the gloom of night upon a city is little contagious.

But I'm fine and doing better with every second, amn't I? It shall only get easier, Ipshita. I hope.

I don't deal very well with change, I fear. And uncertainty.

Singapore lacks 2% salicylic acid. My skin is not pleased

Remember children, things are more frightening when you're running away from them.

Of course, they're just as scary when you face them head on, no?

Do...Not...Want...To...Go...Back...

(written with gritted teeth)

Begin limbo again.

I hurt to think of leaving to return to Chicago, loathe to speak to anyone there but unable to rest easy in Singapore. It is absurd that I should be like this every trip. Leave from Chicago with pain but looking forward and then leave from Singapore with pain but looking forward. There are significant differences to what and how I feel, situations in Singapore and Chicago are not symmetrical, but still. Absurd!

Why do we forget king Alfred?

legendary Arthur gets movies and ballads and the very real Alfred get nothing.

I feel outraged

Lady of Shalott

There's a place by Cityhall, opposite raffles city where you stand with your back to a pillar and face four tinted doors. During the day, these tinted doors fan outwards and reflect the world behind you. As I waited there I saw clearly the world go by while I stayed sequestered.

very Tennyson