It’s a blow job, a form, a paper, a lesson plan, a grant, a document all forming a tap dance…

Igama lami ’nkunzi emnyama My name is black bull
Yimi ’nkunzi emnyama I am black bull
Ngicitha amasoka I am the one who tests young men in love

~ Johnny Clegg & Savuka – Live Is Just a Dream

It seems to keep afloat I’ve mastered the art of tap dancing, through meetings, through the day, through work, through assignments, through working out, through paper writing…everything has turned into some kind of psychedelic whirlwind that blends in together…a dance where seconds and minutes and hours mean nothing as they fly by at rapid pace: writing, turning in, turning away, presenting, taking in, handing out and refereeing between adults and twenty somethings that behave like three year olds…I can’t recall what sleep actually feels like.

I’ve been in a perpetual state of ‘tired’ for two months and in between all this, between this dance of either getting work done or figuring out how to get it done there are brief interludes, momentary pleasures that begin with the smell of pheromones of aggressively and wonderfully strong and masculine men, the smell of alcohol gently trailing off their breathe and the smell of cologne and deodorant radiating from their bodies as they breath in and out as their hands make beautiful, passionate, hard contact with my body all ending with beads of sweat and tremors moving through me as I make phonemic ejectives and gluttoral noises of pleasure…

Of course then the guilt sets in rapidly after I realize how much time I ‘wasted’ because I haven’t yet perfected the level of multi-tasking necessary to coordinate expressing love, paying attention, making love, enjoying it and going through flash cards all at the same time…not that I really want to master that skill (somehow ‘harder, harder, harder…that’s a third column, second row, low tone, low aspiration Cha, yeah…hit me…harder, harder…okay let’s move onto spectrographs…yeah…keep moving like that…okay, the first formant…’ just doesn’t seem like a turn on for anyone).

So mostly I don’t feel like a human, and sadly that feeling won’t go away until the last day of classes on December 7th…though this kind of scheduling mistake is something I will never make again (and I have only myself to blame)…so I’m chalking it up as an important life lesson offered free from the School of Hard Knocks (pun possibly intended) and playing the cards that I’ve dealt myself.

During finals week I have to head down to Newark, NJ to go to the Garin Tzabar informational session (one of two that I’ll be attending in the United States, I’ll attend the others in Israel)…these are of course, conducted entirely in Hebrew…which means I really, really need to brush up on my Hebrew. Then I fly back up to Buffalo to finish the rest of finals and finish out my contract with Hillel. Then I fly back to NYC on December 21st and after one or two days I fly down to North Carolina to relax, then I’m back in New York for my last month in the States (January) which will be spent working out and exercising at the Krav Center near my house to finally return home to Israel on February 1st…I want to do nothing more than to get off the plane and kiss the ground at Ben Gurion. I want it so bad that I had a sex dream about it two days ago, where I dreamed that Vince and I ran into each other at El Al and we started getting into the heat of it then and there.

I can’t tell you how much I look forward to education, debate, and argument outside of the confines or grades: for no other reason but to come to an understanding…my grades are fine (if not wonderful)…but writing because you know that the way you write or investigate something will amount to an A is a much different motivation than arguing simply for answers.

My apartment, while a level 2.5 disaster area (down from a level 4 disaster area since the tentacle that was growing in my sink and I finally had it out the other day); is getting cleaned out even more…I just need someone to buy and take the last of my furniture so I’m left with nothing but clothing and food and a few books and my two duffel bags. Everything that’s too big to fit in my bag turns into something that holds back my movements, that inhibits my freedom, that keeps me one step away from my goal of ultimate mobility.

I look forward to the physical labor and the rigors of basic training…sadly UB has no areas for sparring, for weapons use (not guns – I have a rifle range I go to – but there is nowhere to just practice with anything Bo based), or boxing practice…and I don’t have the time in my day to go to the combined martial arts club…I need a 24 hour, full range, Gym to handle my stress levels…and since I don’t have that at the moment I’ve been putting myself through intense Pilate’s sessions, Special Forces Pushup and Ab Routines, Yoga…and averaging just enough sleep at night that my downstairs neighbors think I’m running a one man whore house upstairs as they look out the window to see if anyone’s leaving when I go to bed after the noise I generate each night (on nights when I get to go home).

My diet has moved to mostly vegetarian; I consume vegetables, fruit, v8 juice, water, tofu, carbs, and various sources of non-meat protein at such a rate that I’m startled I’m still loosing weight…fortunately, I’ve found a love of Soy…this isn’t so much a rage against the meat industry as it is a realization that I can bring fruits and vegetables with me, requiring far less prep time, more easily than I could bring meat and meat products that require more preparation and maintenance…no one looks sexy when they have mad cow disease or catch a food born illness.

Tonight I have Tibetan class and then I have to finish my lesson plan for the TESOL/TEFL/TESL Certification course; as well as Phonetics homework, and this weekend must be spent working on my independent study looking at India’s Educational Language Policy from 1929 and comparing it with 2007 in the hopes that I can complete my independent study ahead of time…of course, that has to occur after the TESOL/TEFL/TESL certification course which is from 9a-6p on Saturday and Sunday…

Only a few more weeks.

…and now, to get dinner, before Tibetan class, where I’ll get to study the language of the Lamas and stare at the hot lacrosse jock…then to Starbucks and then the Library for most of the night.