Sunday

I saw these guys - Fishbone - must have been - 1992 or so. The most fun I ever had. People kept hoisting my ass up over their heads and passing me along - surfin - I'd end up all the way across the floor and go back again. They were lettin people come up onto the stage just so that they could dive off. The guys on the stage were cheering for us out in the crowd! It was the most mass energy of crowd I've ever witnessed. I'm getting goose bumps remembering it.
I'm taking IQ tests and trying sample LSAT questions and looking for any other mirrors or gauges of performance, maybe I'll do the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator thing next. Still trying to find myself: my skills, my identity, my aim, my art, my abilities, my disabilities. Who am I? What do I do? What should I do? Am I just some dumb-ass fool who ought to just make as much money as possible - while I can - in order to prepare for when senility sets in? Pre-pay my looney bin tuition, save up for the rent payments at the group home.

I do this now and then: I do all of this searching - self-searching, and I gather some data, and then I do nothing with it. Sometimes you just need to check under your own hood. You just need to know your abilities and thus have indications about your options. Whether you take advantage of any of the options is another matter.

My class starts tomorrow. It's an online class. Cost me more than three hundred beans. It's a creative writing class.

The Engish Department adviser said that creative writing took a hit because of how jacked-up the budget is. You see, Florida doesn't have state income tax. And now that the real estate market has pooped in the bed - there ain't no money - and the Governor is off hangin out in DC trying to get on with the next phase of his career - and meanwhile there is a serious budget problem here in Florida. So important stuff like cops having enough bullets in their guns, firemen having enough hoses, the arts and me being able to rant and rave in a creative writing class - all - facing cutbacks. But I'm getting off track here. (Was I ever on track?)

The Engish Department adviser also said that they lost some key staff in the creative writing shop. I recently obtained a copy of their journal, Florida Review. Not much of a web page, but the actual hard copy journal really got me excited. It's a serious journal, no doubt. I hope that journal doesn't suffer because of the budget mess.

Anyway, I'm searching and searching for myself - if you see me out there sleep walking, give me a call when I wake up.

Friday

I've been reading about personality disorders for hours at Wikipedia. I guess schizotypal personality disorder looks promising, except for the bullshit about believing in magic. I don't believe in magic.

I was liking borderline personality disorder, but I don't think my trip is quite that intense, you know what I'm saying? "Pervasive instability in moods," they say. My mood swings aren't that pervasive, but I'm not a good judge.

As I read about schizoid personality disorder, I thought I had found my disorder. But then I read that the people who suffer from this disorder, "Harbor little desire for sexual experiences with others." That's not the one.

I guess I'll keep reading. I know I ain't right. I'll find what's ailing me.