Summer is really here. I was strolling by the river in the evening. It was so beautiful. I am going to miss Chicago.

"The idea, for instance, that the ring of power should be given to two undersized amateurs to throw into a volcano at the very center of the enemy’s camp makes sound and sober sense, of a kind, in Tolkien; but you would never expect to find it as a premise at the Middle Earth Military Academy"

Consumed by dance. Last night I was tossing and turning dreaming about it and I had to get up and do a rhumba box step to convince myself that I hadn't forgotten the cuban motion.

Yes, yes, I do still do my other work. But who knows when I'll be able to give this much time to something as light hearted and yet demanding like dancing? I feel in good shape because of it, my muscles are happy and toned. I have a nice neat little sixpack and my feet bend to 120 degrees (my actual foot, between heel and the base of my toes from the usual 180 degree line). Little wonder. I'm going to miss this happy lithe me. Not that I won't be happy but without dancing I doubt I'll still be as disciplined. There's always the gym but I find them boring. There's always dieting but I love food. Sigh

What will I miss about the US?

I'm not sure but one of those things has to be mexican food

I am going to see a real work of art today. Banksy is in Chicago and has left some very interesting work behind.

My heart is thumping like a drum and I don't know how to express myself.

got back from the conference today and I felt introspective. I am eager to know what I will do and become. I don't want to be ashamed of me. You there! Future Ipshita! Looking back at this. I really hope it turned out well. Tell me all about it..

edit: I is so full of myself :P

I love my Sauron doll

Couch Battles

The devil in me doesn't want to work. It wants to surf, snack and laze on this couch.

the more practical me, needs to get the Hall-woodward plan understood and written out.

We're battling it out. I heard myself say aloud sharply, "Ipshita, use your brains and get it done."

Surely I'll be schizophrenic soon

A big goose hissed at me on my way home last night. Ah Chicago. Where else would geese hiss at one?

There is something like the paralysis of being through too much thought. When everything comes to a stop because an idea is running itself over and over where a thought is being worn out slowly through iterations.

I'm like that now. I know my plant needs watering. I know I should go to bed. I know if I stay up I should instead read my case. But, I'm just lying here on my couch, thinking. Thinking, thinking, thinking. There are some second order thoughts: Thinking about how to stop myself from thinking these things, thinking about how I am failing, thinking if I blogged about it perhaps I would stop thinking, thinking that the second order thinking perhaps bolsters the original thinking, thinking that perhaps it will make me more aware of this loop I'm stuck in and that I'll get some spine and kick myself out of it. Spine. I do have that. I have that especially when I know the alternatives are shame, pity or waste.

Getting up to water my plant before I sleep. Goodnight mine Blog.

I never thought this would be a problem with me but I'm suffering from a slight inflexibility of imagination. Isn't that awful? Is this the beginning of the end?

In context, I should have been feeling sorry for someone I know distantly who recently broke up with someone else, but I just felt myself shrugging. I caught myself at it and thought, no, thats no right. Where is the sympathy? But I couldn't force it to happen. I felt detached and was really thinking that it was her own fault that she should have been in this kind of situation and that I would die if I had to be an object of pity like that. Do not ever feel sorry for me, I added.

But what's the point of all of this? Is it an attitude of 'I am determined to be fine' that is the moral? That I will be a cold hard shell of a person soon? I don't know. I look at myself, I think of all the energy pent up inside of me, the sloth which exists comfortably by its side and I think that I am really alive. I love lazing and feeling the luxury of time and being. I love working and getting things done. But I also loved listening to the heartbeats of people around me and I must continue to do that. One cannot be alive oneself without knowing how others feel alive too.

But really. Don't ever feel sorry for me till I give up fighting for everything I want. And then you may feel sorry for me as much as you like for I will deserve it then.

I hate saying goodbyes. However I may recover afterwards, at that moment what could be more painful?

Some people are really liabilities. If I start to become one of those I shall bow out of the circle. Must not become one of those