Dear Diary . . . day by day

Thurssday November 16th (and Friday the 17th)- Finger Tips
Burning Man
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2000 Today's entry will come a little late (as in, after work) as I couldn't get to sleep last night, kept hitting the snooze this morning, and need to leave in 18 minutes to catch the BART. I'm coming straight home today (day off of exercising) as I am going to the Smuin Ballet with Ian and Elle; exciting, but I wish I had more sleep!
(Friday:)
Here's a rough poem I wrote Wednesday night. That's all I have time for today, sorry:
Finger Tips
Right after
I cut my nails, my fingertips
felt exposed,
no longer hidden so
deeply under my nail.
Like peeled turtles.

I hope now I
can press more
accurately
on the strings.
Press down
strum,
I bite my lip;
(something's off)
as I stop to pluck
each string with
my last four nails.

My left wrist
wobbles around
the neck of the guitar painfully
the tips of my fingers
are cut by nylon cord.

I press harder.
You, teacher,
tell me I'm holding it wrong.
Yes, I know;
I can see the pad of my
ring finger
pulling, muting the other strings
Clumsy fingers!
G and C seem impossible to me
at first
I have to use my right
hand to
place my fingers
before hurrying to
strum,
before they wiggle off
their tightrope.

Later,
I sit down to write
and I feel my finger
tips
hit the soft keys
like raw, sensitive nubs.
My callouses are smaller
than yours
and not so deep;
they press
like small discs
digging into
bruised skin.

Exercise log:
Lifted weights: chest and triceps, 18 minutes on the precor machine and a very, very difficult 15 minute abs class.
Writing log:
The Many Masks of Halloween in Strange Horizons.
I'm currently reading:
Born with the Dead by Robert Silverberg
Woman: An Intimate Geography by Natalie Angier

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