Had my first anatomy session last night and it was...well...boring. It felt like CCD class. (For non-Catholics out there, CCD is Sunday School, except that it's usually on Saturday morning or some weeknight when your favorite TV show is on, and it is dull and dorky and awful, and usually held in some drafty after-hours Catholic School classroom with horrifying corpus christi hanging on the walls...)

I can't seem to dredge up any enthusiasm for learning about synovial fluid and femurs (though I admit a special fondness for phalanges and carpals), and am seriously questioning whether I should proceed with this teacher training.

I am questioning everything, everything, everything. It's an uncomfortable state of mind. not inappropriately, I found a copy of Dark Night of the Soul today in the garbage...

Soft Boys album: goodski! It's a Soft Boys album, not a R. Hitchcock album, and as such, it is hooky, jangly and pretty straightforward. I like it.

Jury still out on Beck and Peter Gabriel--I haven't listened attentively enough to either and don't want to dismiss them out of hand.

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