Some months ago when I was pushing (obviously
not too hard) myself to write more I
wanted to write a post about the changing
light in the morning. I'm awake by 5:00
and out the door shortly after 6:00.
Every morning there was more light in
the morning and more at the end of the
day, peaking on the day after my birthday.
Now the days are getting sorter. I finally
had to accept that I needed to turn
on a light in the morning. I like both.
I like the light and I like the curling
in feeling that comes with the darkness.
I was going to write about it although
I don't know why I thought it would
be interesting. And days and weeks and
months went by.
writing tonight because I have some
energy. I stayed home today because
I've been having some pain
in my heels and so I went to a doctor.
The doctor is very cool. She has not
mentioned my weight.
was hobbling toward the train the other
day and noticed two people hobbling
in front of me. One was an older man
and one was a woman who may have been
my age, or younger. We all had the
same hobble on the same side. I'm not
sure why they were hobbling. And suddenly
everyone I talk to has either had or
known someone who has had the same thing
I have. They all talk about the pain.
It really does hurt. They are all sizes
and all shapes and all ages.
doctors would be tempted to say something
to me about my weight, which is why
so many fat people don't go to them.
It just gets tiresome. I wouldn't argue
that weight might have something to
do with it and might be part of the
pain but it isn't useful to mention
it. My doctor has been focused on getting
me out of pain. I trust her. I like
her. And I feel better than I have been.
I started writing I was listening to
Roy. They play this
show during pledge often and I can
never resist it.
I'm watching one
of the summer cooking shows. Why?
I do not know. They always irritate
me. I was sad when waffle
house girl left despite the fact
that I knew she couldn't win. The best
part of the show was when Ramsey told
her he'd pay for her to go to culinary
school. I normally don't dig culinary
school but in this case I think it will
give her some basics. She's being a
brat tonight but I still love her. One
of the other
shows has left me cold. Why do I
watch? The restaurant business never
really lets you go. I dig what Bourdain
Consuming link wasn't working. Why?
I fixed it but I'm not sure how. Even
when I'm not writing I keep that updated.
Back when a
simple question from George woke
me up to the lack of music in my life
I took a bunch of stuff to work and
ripped it. But then I started testing
on the PS2
and the Wii
and needed to use the earphones. I'm
back on PC now and hauling more music
to work. I'm putting some of that in
the AC list as well.
game is pretty great. I still play
on the weekends. Crazy chick that I
book out, which I just think is
so cool! When I started reading blogs
again I was thrilled to see littleshops
for some of the people whose creativity
I so admire.
unfocused. And tired. And not sure what
The last time she was here Kristina bought
us both a copy of a small
book and recently she bought me
I want to follow him around and just
listen. In the latter book he writes
snippets, one of which tells about a
protest in Nigeria over the Miss World
contest. The protesters were fundamentalists
who ran through the streets yelling,
" God is great! Down with beauty!"
Stuff like that sends me into hours of reverie.
have no strong feelings about beauty
pageants. I have no interest in them.
They seem odd. I just don't care. I
think the women are beautiful but I
think so many people are beautiful.
And I think beauty is good. It's more
likely that I will disagree with people
about what is ugly than what is beautiful.
is a part of me that likes the idea
of men protesting a pageant. But things
are rarely simple. I find myself wanting
to say this ... but not that. That ...
but not this. Beauty is good and worth
celebrating. The pageant format is problematic.
I can argue against them. But I don't
care enough. I just love the complexity
in the little snippet from Manquel.
I imagine him telling me the story with
a smile of irony.
wrote to me about a friend of their's.
The friend is fat but has not been ashamed
of it. And then someone said an extremely
nasty thing to them and they had a rough
time. I tried to respond to the email
but my reply bounced back. Not sure
the email I was directed to a blog on
which the nasty thing was written, which
I will not link because there are some
things that are just too gross. When
hatred is so unfounded and badly articulated
I just back away. I might like to have
verbal dexterity of Cyrano when
he responded to a crass comment
about the size of his nose. But I don't.
In the face of vitriol I am rendered
are times ...
matters. I guess I always hope that
as people become more , oh, I dunno,
authentic, or something, their perception
of beauty expands. No pun intended.
inability to write continues. I think
about writing. I read about writing.
I read about reading. My life is all
of the Manquel I thought I might just
try to write really small posts. Just
notes from my reveries. Like the day
after the parade
I walked past a Gay Pride sign in a
window. It seemed to me that there would
be no need for pride about something
so intrinsic as preference if there
had never been shame. Someone gave me
a fat pride necklace but I can't wear
it. I am not proud. Nor am I ashamed.
I simply am fat. Any meaning making
that gets layered onto that attribute
of physicality is just fluff.
... but not that. That but not this.
need to rest now. Shore up for the bus
and the train and the shuttle and the
job and the shuttle and the train and
the bus. I have eight more pages of
the second Manquel to take to bed and
a bit more of the first for tomorrow.
often think in terms of whether or not
I feel like someone knows me. Sometimes
I use it as a distancing mechanism.
I don't think I know anyone who I haven't
had that thought about, even my closest
can defend it. I know how it became
a default response. I also see it as
petulance. But, ya know how it is with
default things. It happens. I try to
stay calm and wait it out.
when I got the same card twice I knew
that my friends know me. I also got
a card with a picture of a martini and
a cig in an ashtray. That's me too.
Not that I smoke anymore. And martinis
are few and far between. But still.
asked me what I've been listening to
and I realize that I haven't been listening
to anything. I'm a singer who never
sings any more. A cook who never cooks.
A writer who never writes. I ripped a
bunch of discs into my computer at work
and I've been trying to listen to music
I'm having trouble writing for all the same
reasons. I worked some overtime and I had a coughing
sneezing thing that lasted for weeks. I still have a
bit of it. I'm tired all of the time. It may sound grim
and sometimes it is. Mostly it's just time on a train
and time doing my funny job and time in the pool and
three times. A bit from which you can see here.
the heading: not sure if this good news, EA hired me.
After a year I have finally left Geppetto's work shop
and now I am a real child. Which means better money
and benefits and a plaque with my name on it. It's not
a bad job. It is a corporation. It is corporate culture.
It is a corporation that makes games and it is in California
so things are mellow. In some ways. But there's no question that
we are in a corporation.
a kind of silencing. I can't talk about it.
no part of me that wants to write about game secrets
on my blog. And I don't want to bite the hand that feeds
me. And things aren't bad. The company has been through
some changes since the days of EA
had a really, really great dinner with George.
Seems like it was a long time ago but it was only a
few weeks. There are pictures of my pasta
and asparagus and his burger.
We had great conversation. It was good.
is in town for a few weeks. We had burgers
with Kathleen. I think I'll get to hang with her some