Uh Oh Part Deux

So now it's possible that the tonsils are a way for HIV to enter the body?

Everyone I know is screwed. Again.

Hot.

I think I actually got heatstroke wandering around today. Yikes. Going to work on pilot with Saas over the phone in a bit. Currently in Laundry hell. I'm ready for the hsoue in the suburbs with the washer dryer upstairs and the central air, please and thanks.

I'm sorry.

It's been quite some time since I have posted anything on here.

The dieting continues apace, and I am losing weight. I should be where I want to be by the end of the year. Just in time for the holidays to set me back a whole bunch.

I am adjusting to the lower calorie input, which means I am overdoing it with the coffee because I am sleepy. It's a bad cycle, and I am going to need to switch back to decaf for a bit. Hellish, but it's what needs to be done.

In other news - still in love with the past, and waiting for it to materialize like a genie from a bottle or some such. With the haze of happiness that food causes lifted away, you can see much more. And a lot of it it not nice.

I'm overfull.

OK, so I have now eaten all of my alloted calories for the day. It's 4:30pm. There's a lot of time ahead of me. This means a piping hot bowl of icebeg lettuce with an extra scoop of anger on the side for dinner tonight. I'm not sorry; I wanted that pizza.

This brings me to think about other areas of my life that I binge/overindulge in. The foremost being the life of memory. Just a few entries ago I was waxing on about how memory cannot be trusted, and this is true. But memory, or at least the memory of emotions of the past is a tempting place to wander through. Or, not so much as wander through as to explore and then inhabit. If one is not careful, that is.

I find myself turning into a bit of a cliche these days. After watching "The Boys in The Band" again I am reminded that it all has, in fact, been said already. Most of it has been said already in alternatively hilarious and annhilating dialogue, delivered with timing that could only be beaten by a bitchy atomic clock. I also wonder if people have figured out that TBITB is actually the template for that other gay ur-text, "The Golden Girls."

Love is on the mind always. Love is the root of all evil. Sounds harsh, and a bit sophomoric, but what evil under the sun was not perpetrated by someone enraged by not getting what they wanted? The money, the girl, the guy, the whatever. All anger comes from unrequited or refused love. The latter of the two kinds of love is so much more damaging than the first, I think. Nothing is so nullifying as to be told that not only are you not loved back by the one you love, but your love itself is quite simply uninteresting in the first place. It does not even bear consideration. The ego rages to Heaven at the injustice. It should be enough for you - that I want you. The infant knows no other way. Just ask Orlando. Or me.

I've had my fill today, indeed.