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Postings are in chronological order, with the most recent entry at the top. The tunes come from flashkit.com.
Oct. 2002 Boo and whatnot. Hope you're enjoying a ghastly Holloween! The world spins onward - and there's not a whole lot I can do about that... On a personal level, I have to admit to feeling better since I fired all those people and my guru stopped calling me back. It could also have something to do with my acupuncturist (Needles? Sure, why not). She's the most gentle soul I've met in some time. I'd pay her simply to sit in the same room with me for a while once a week. Instead, I pay her to stick needles in me... Anyway, she's listened patiently to my theories of why my body decided to take issue with me all of a sudden. She's an excellent listener. Her response is a look that says, "If you really knew why you were here, I wouldn't have to stick all of these needles in you." You're probably wondering if I've forsaken Western medicine all together. Absolutely not. It just so happens that it takes up to two months to get an appointment with a specialist. And if that doctor happens to get arrested before I get a chance to see him, that means I have to wait another two months to get an appointment with one of his less colorful colleagues. Does this kind of thing only happen to me? All of this time that's elapsed has done wonders for my condition. And in the meantime, I focus on reducing my stress, hence the massage and acupuncture. And of course it doesn't hurt that this acupuncturist isn't difficult to look at. At the end of today's session, she told me to move slowly, drink water and stay warm. This is sound advice. It's the kind of advice I never got as a kid. I'm learning that when delivered in a deft manner, the most simple statements can have the most powerful effect. 'Tiz the season for one of the hippest spots online: entropy8. These folks have been around for ages - after checking out this page, have fun digging into the rest of the site: click here  To view some great graphics opposing the rhetoric that has accompanied the war on terrorism: click here And a funny anti-war flash movie by the same guy: click here Thanks to the kind reader who sent me the link that lead to these. Things are busy here at Club Brulee. My personal trainer tells me that unless I get my ass in gear, it may fall off. My life coach quit in a huff the other day when I told her that I thought it was under-handed to employ the techniques of psychoanalysis when she'd advertised herself as a fuzzy, consumer-friendly, watered-down alternative to that system. She broke down and confessed to actually being a trained psychoanalyst who'd lost all of her clients (because they couldn't bear the social stigma of being in analysis when their friends had gone off and gotten fashionable gurus and life coaches). She then told me that while she had expected her struggle to adapt to a new career to be difficult, I'd made it unbearable and she was going out west to become a cowgirl. I told her that I didn't think she had the legs for it. She replied that it had never occurred to her to become a cowgirl until she realized that it was the least likely setting she could envision me in. I found this an odd method of arriving at a life decision, but wished her well in any case. My guru, who claims to be psychic, hasn't answered my phone calls or e-mails. You'd think a psychic would know when you were trying to get in touch... And sadly, I had to fire my publicist. I know, I know, a good publicist isn't easy to find, but he crossed the not always well defined line between truth and fiction. I recently proofed one of his press releases in which he'd stated that I'm a giant of internet fiction, when in fact we all know I'm vertically challenged and everything that I write is the bald, if not buck-naked, truth. Ah well, do not fear - all is well. A cellist has moved into the neighborhood. I've been listening to scales played on a string instrument! It's a fine distraction from the cheesy middle eastern pop and screaming family next door. So you see, life is good. Last night, Ume started cracking up in bed. No, this was not a critique of anything I was doing (shame on you and your gutter-bent mind), it was a response to reading this: Once he retired, my father was able to devote all his energies to his three major interests: painting, astronomy and getting angry whenever he reads in the paper or sees on television that public interest in the supernatural is on the rise. --Mark Salzman |
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