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2001-06-21 - 2:43 p.m. Lots of times I end up hating June. The rest of the summer is fine, but June is muggy and traumatizing. I'm visiting my friend Di in SI right now. SI is weird. It's suburban but not. Coming to her Ukranian fam's house is like being a foreign exchange student- a constant influx of Russian, being thrust upon with constant shots of whiskey and wodka caviar blintzes. And they've got more mirrors in this place than a porno set. Yeah, but I watched Requiem for a Dream last night, and I knew it would bother me, and I went into it knowing it would, and sure enough I was up for the whole night with a stomachache fretting about old ladies in Brooklyn with involuntary drug problems. I spend half my time wanting to do a "service profession", but wuss me would end up being too freaked out by reality. My friend Danielle from home got her first post-undergrad-psych-degree job working with high-functioning schizophrenics living in Albany. I can't even listen to her stories. I can't even think about these overmedicated folks and their zombie lives. I'm the most, most scared of all the things that can't really be explained, like religious phenomena and the possibility of the existence of ghosts. I know mental illness can be explained- but why do our brain synapses do these things? To deal with our fears we have to try to understand them, I guess. If, hypothetically, Shawn and I were to have a kid, it would have an approximated, punnet-squared 25% chance of being schizophrenic. Ha! That's like an arachnophobic having a twenty five percent chance of having a spider baby. That sounds so selfish. I'll never understand what his early life was like having a sick dad. I mean, sick like that. That's why it's scary. � |