I got to hear about how I do everything wrong, I have no idea what's best for me, why can't I be like normal college students (that's what *I've* been wondering... any ideas?), I need to learn how to grow up, I think I can do fun things all the time, I refuse to do anything difficult that isn't exactly what I want to do... at which point I interjected, "I am doing something difficult! I'm miserable!" and so on. But eventually I convinced her. It's only 2 weeks before I was going to go home originally. sheesh. I kept almost crying as she screamed at me and after she left I just wanted to cry more but then this thing dawned on me: I'm going home to Portland in 2 weeks to see Donna and Sam!!!! It seems way too good to be true, and I'm wary of being disappointed. I'll let myself hope a little.

I just have to get rid of these thoughts. bad thoughts. "I could be bounded in a nut shell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams." My dreams are fine. But part of my brain is attacking me. It's getting better, but it comes back at the most unexpected times. The only cure is exercise, so if you were here, you could watch me doing jumping jacks in the living room, and running around the whole house like a little kid. i really am going mad... but when my heart pumps faster my brain leaves me alone. For a while I was staying at Gabe's just so I could ride a bike around the city, but I was getting no work done. I am trying to be proactive about whatever the fuck is wrong with me. I absolutely refuse to be unhappy. I'm going to live forever or die trying.

So today I had this altercation with a bagel... ok. At 8 am I ate some yogurt. 11 am I ate oatmeal. 2 pm, 1 slice tomato. At 3, I was so hungry I was dizzy and couldn't concentrate on my reading, so I ate a bagel. The dizziness didn't go away, and suddenly my stomach hurt like HELL. like someone just kicked me in the gut. I staggered to the couch and lay down, but no position made it feel better. I tried eating a little more, to no avail. I crawled into bed and curled up in the fetal position and whimpered for about 2 hours, in excruciating pain. I became almost delirious, lost touch with reality and had these strange visions and memories for a long time.

After a while I thought maybe the bagel was poisoned or rotten so I tried to make myself vomit, but all that came up was some red stuff that looked like blood but was probably the tomato. Back to bed. After another 2 hours I started to feel better... by this time it was 7:30 and I'd wasted tons of time, and felt weak from the ordeal. It still feels like I just tried to do 5000 sit ups or something. jesus christ! All I did was eat a fucking bagel!

Here is my favorite Russian quote today, from a woman around 1990 in Moscow: "...There is something wrong with me. I don't know what it is, it is vague, and I have been to all kinds of doctors; they give me this remedy and that, but nothing works. I think perhaps it is my soul that is sick. How can you cure a soul? How can you cure the soul of a whole people?" Russian people are the BEST. (I've been reading Russian ethnography nonstop for the past week.)