So here is a Guamanian joke:

What helps Mr. Camacho with his curls?

A Leevin conditioner.



Ummm.. just another day at math-workshop business, giggling silently at the unavoidable Germanic slippages or the alternate Argentinian professor, whose accent is surely more Gallic than Latin. Already I'm into these routines and these hours, and I have been more excitedly recently than in memory, as if again with a fresh start, somehow, and a career to really build, even if some aspects are beginning to look rather bleaker.

My diet has also improved, though I think yesterday I had about 6 servings of dairy: two slices of pizza (2), a yogurt-milk-whey protein concoction (a cup of each) (3), and a glass of whole milk after dinner. By this reckoning, I have, as my brother would say, had enough milk for a pregnant woman. Today I'm essentially on the same pace, and the hunger pains which dog me are acceptable, in that they represent not so much starvation as a subsistence diet. Ideally, I'd feel as hungry as I did in New Hampshire: always hungry (tensies, elevensies, etc) because always working.