January 2004

February 2 2004 The Good Mother was on some channel the other day. I kept thinking I should turn off the TV but my current emotional state lends itself to lots of thinking I should do something and not actually ever doing it. I'm not sure if I saw the movie when it came out. I'm pretty sure I didn't. Some of it seemed familiar and some of it didn't. I was only half watching.

But there's this part where the Diane Keaton character refers to herself as having been frigid. And it occurred to me that you don't really hear that anymore. Do you?

I guess I don't spend much time in the places where that kind of thing might be discussed but the movie brought back this awareness of how vague sexuality seemed to me back then. That was before Betty Dodson and Good Vibes and Eve Ensler. And if you were a het you were hoping someone like Liam Neeson would slip under the covers and melt away your fear of not being good in bed.

I just remember that sex wasn't entirely clear to me. And, to some extent, that's still true.

Heh.

But I was thinking about that and I saw this video for QEFTSG in which one of them is ... uh ... dancing and there's a woman and ... well. If you've seen it you know what I'm talking about and if you haven't it's not even that risque by current standards. I just found it confusing because it is pretty risque. Kids growing up now see sex ( or very close to it) on TV.

And it all puts me in a very on-the-one-hand on-the-other-hand frame of mind. Because I certainly don't want sex to be this mysterious taboo don't ask don't tell place. But. I mean. I'm not sure it's any easier for someone coming of age to day to be clear about their own body and their own sexuality than it ever has been.

The news today is all about Janet Jackson's breast and the FCC investigation. Picture my eyebrow arched. MTV has an apology on their site. Everyone is apologizing. And I'm just not sure why. Is the little bit of breast we saw more sexual that all the dry humping and flesh exposure we regularly see?

It just seems odd.

I always vacillate on this kind of thing. On the one hand I want sex to have context. If not love at least something that looks like people who realize that there is a relationship of some import occurring when we touch. And that not all naked bodies are sexual advertising. On the other hand. People get jiggy with it from time to time. So?

I think it's good that there is more open public conversation about sexuality. But I'm not sure we're getting very far in terms of a truly liberated joy in our experience.

I don't really care if Janet's breast was exposed by accident. Before we saw the breast we saw lots of booty shaking. We see it all the time.

While everyone talks about this little bit of flesh I wonder about the person who died last night in Boston when a car crashed into a group of people who were celebrating the stuperbowl. And the person who was seriously injured and the cars that were burned. I don't think that's because football is a bad thing. I think it's about the hopped up market driven sexualized context in which football is watched.

But I remember that feeling. That way that Diane Keaton's character just didn't know about her body. Just wasn't sure about boundaries. And love.  

                                     3:06 PM

February 3 2004 I ate this huge bowl of lettuce for dinner. Really huge. It made me laugh. I might be exaggerating. It might not have been huge. But it was really big. It was a bunch of green leaf that I needed to eat before it went bad. There were artichoke hearts and roasted bell peppers and avocado in the bowl but it was mostly lettuce. I do not know why I got such a kick out of it. I also had some mashed potato. That's one of my favorite dinners. Potato and salad.

Over at the North Coast Cafe I read about a new film. Supersize Me. I keep thinking about it because there's been a flurry of stuff around the evils of fast food. The house passed H.R. 339 to prevent the fast food made me fat law suits. Alternet took the Bush administration to task for not being more supportive of the WHO's push to combat obesity. I find myself in a game of internal ping pong.

I've been consistently critical of fast food. Not critical of hamburgers and french fries. I like hamburgers and french fries when the meat is fresh and the potatoes are real. I don't like them every day. I don't even like them once a month. But I like them. Fast food is like salty cardboard. I don't even know if it should be called food. And reading about what a steady diet of fast food can do to you makes the case for its badness. And clearly gaining weight is one of the things that happens when you eat fast food every day. And clearly Americans eat too much fast food and that's partially why people are fatter. And clearly we are exporting this bad food culture to the world. And clearly kids are targeted by the fast food companies.

Here's another thing that's clear. Not all fat people eat fast food. When all the fast food companies are gone there will still be fat people. Thin people also eat fat food. Many people eat fast food and don't gain weight but suffer all the negative health impacts.

When I was in school I ate some fast food. Usually late at night, after a class. I would be hungry and tired and salty, greasy carbs seemed comforting. I'd always get a stomach ache. But I understood why people eat that stuff. Time. Energy. Money. But it is hard for me to understand someone eating it every day.

I wasn't in support of the fast food made me fat law suits. But I wish someone could come up with a way to make fast food companies accountable. I guess I could be happy that the congress is saying that we can't use fat as the reason. But I don't think they were saying anything about weight based discrimination. They were making sure that money could be made.

Marilyn says she gets a sick feeling when she hears phrases like "preventing obesity" or "weight problem". Me too. I can't remember who said it but there's this line that goes: when all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.

                                     11:23 AM

February 4 2004 I was hanging out at city hall yesterday. The task force saga which began last year continues. The task force is now sitting and yesterday was the first meeting. Jennifer, Elena and Ester are on the task force. Marilyn was there.

The first meeting was mostly business which included one of the city attorneys explaining The Sunshine Ordinance, the Brown Act and Robert's Rules in ten or fifteen minutes. I might have been the only person in the room who liked that part. Then there were introductions. And a protracted discussion on breaking into working groups. Which I thought was a terrible idea and said so in public comment. But they did it anyway.

I left feeling two opposite things. The task force is aware of our concerns about the targeting of fat kids and they give lip service to that concern. And we are represented. And we there making sure that they keep their word. So things may be OK. Or not that bad. And watching how slowly everything moves there may not be much to worry about.

On the other hand it's clear that when people talk about nutrition and physical fitness they mean eat less and exercise more. And what they really mean is don't be fat. You just don't hear about the thin and average sized kids who eat crap and drink soda and play computer games. You just don't.

I always get the feeling, when I'm there, that we (the fat people) are being placated. They think we are in denial about our bad health. They think we are a fringe group of people who don't get it. They think we'll go away. And they are surprised when we keep showing up. But I don't get a really deep feeling that they are getting why.

Fat people are discriminated against. In the job market. In heath care. In access to public facilities. Can you imagine a fat candidate? Think of how often Clinton was joked about for his weight. And really. On what planet is he fat?

But, as with all bias, the kids are the ones who pay the price for our unwillingness to make this culturally unacceptable. The kids are the ones who endure the worst of the harassment and who internalize the ideas about how far they will be able to go in life. And it is the kids who will hide the candy bars and feel the shame but want so much to be able to eat candy - like all the other kids - without fear of being shamed. Is the candy good for the other kids? Can we all just have a little candy?

Can we talk about good food and the joy of movement without always always always mentioning that we do those things so we won't be fat? And can we admit that we don't want to be fat because we all know how hard it is to live in such a fat hating culture?

After the meeting one gentleman came up and talked to Marilyn and I. He was quite nice. Later he saw me at the bus stop and asked if I needed a ride. North Beach is usually out of the way for most people and yet he gave me a ride home. He was very sweet.

And here's where I get to bust myself. I had a lot of appearance based judgement on him. He was thin and white and I just thought he would really not be open to our ideas. He is on the task force because he has a son with disability. We had a really lovely conversation. When I'm wrong. I'm wrong. And I was happy to be wrong.

The task force will meet for a year and then give suggestions. The whole thing has me thinking. About lots of things.

                                     1:29 AM

February 5 2004 While I was at city hall there was a protest across the street in front of the state building. I could hear them through the window. It was about Kevin Cooper. There is still time to make a call or e-mail the governor. As difficult as it is to address him as governor.

I must admit that I feel little hope about a man like Arnold doing anything in response to phone calls or e-mails. Leadership in this country doesn't seem to be listening to the voices of the people.

Massachusetts becomes the wedding state and the president threatens constitutional changes so that "activist judges" won't ruin the hetro strangle hold on commitment. Apparently if you disagree with him you're an activist and if you're an activist we need to make sure there are laws to protect us from you.

And the news is all about Janet's breast. I didn't watch the superbowl. I didn't see the performance. But if you watch the mainstream media news for two minutes you've seen some of it. No one seems to be upset about the portrayal of a man grabbing at a woman. We elect people who do that. The big upset is about seeing the breast itself. So upsetting that ER is editing a scene from tonights show in which there was a bit of a woman's breast visible.

I heard someone say that we wouldn't be seeing live shows anymore and I thought they were exaggerating. But maybe not. And despite the fact that we are all so offended, we seem to be watching.

The conversation feels all wrong.

And while there is much effort to make sure Scott Peterson gets a fair trial Kevin Cooper waits through this long day with little media attention.

                                     11:13 AM

February 6 2004 Sometimes, when the moon is full, I can't sleep. When I got into bed last night I felt wide awake. I read for awhile.

Years ago I answered the question - how are you? - by saying - living to tell the tale. I think I was being rather more sardonic than Marquez. I was saying that it wasn't going well and the best I could do was to tell the story. Marquez is telling the story of his life and family. Every single member of his family. Oh. That's a joke. But I keep thinking about One Hundred Years of Solitude while I read. There were so many people. So many Jose somebody or others. I found it annoying. It's kind of like when you're trying to tell a story and you have to tell a lot of back story to make yourself clear. But the beauty of the language kept me reading. Love In The Time of Cholera was the book that won my heart.

I finally felt sleepy enough to try to sleep. Apropos of nothing I was remembering a conversation I had with Marya, or maybe it was something I read in her book. And I was remembering when I was a teenager and Mom and I were living in an apartment. I came home from school and was alone for a few hours until she got home from work. I didn't love being alone. And I was hungry. So I'd eat Pop Tarts. They come two in an envelope. I'd eat one cold while I waited for one to toast. There were three envelopes in the box and I'd sometimes I'd eat all three. It just seemed like such a gorge. But Marya would tell me what she ate on a binge and I'd be slack jawed with disbelief. She is such a tiny woman. But she can eat some food. I was trying to sleep and I kept thinking about how often I thought I was eating huge amounts of food. And maybe they were large amounts. But not necessarily huge.

I did get to sleep. And I woke up dreaming that I was trying to save a kid who had fallen into the water. It's hard to wake up from that kind of dream because you want to find out what happens. But my arm was caught in my pjs pants. I wear a magnetic bracelet and it had, somehow, wound itself into a place where the pants are torn. Disconcerting.

For many reasons, most of which are about event of the last six years or so, but really having to do with my whole life, I've become extremely reclusive. Certainly the last few months have given me enough reason to want to sit in my apartment and not ever go out again. I'm not really worried about it. I keep thinking it will pass. But I can feel it at play when I apply for a job. I send out the resume and then it's like I run and hide under the blankets. None of the jobs I'm sending resumes to are ones that I want. What I want is a book deal. But I'm not really doing anything about that.

This week has been particularly bad. I did go out to the city hall thing but that was only four hours. I talk on the phone a bit. But I am under the covers.

I know it's important for me to push myself out there. Kristina sent some encouraging e-mail with a link to a memoir about a woman who is the sister of a woman who had gastric bypass surgery. There are plenty of books glorifying weight loss. Not too many talking about an engaged life in a fat body. She included a quote from Achebe. "Until lions produce their own historian, the story of the hunt will only be written by the hunter."

Yeah.

I signed up for Readerville because Kristina said the message boards are a good place to meet people who are working on getting published. I haven't introduced myself. Yet. Sonia has sent me a zillion things to check out. Every excursion out seems to send me back, deeper into the covers.

And it's not a satisfying place to be when you can't even sleep.

                                     10:27 AM

February 7 2004 The electricity went out for a while last night. It wasn't a big deal. I lit some candles and I have one of those book reading lights, so I read.

I was bummed because I knew Jim Hightower was going to be on going to be on Now talking about Rolling Thunder and grassroots politics. Fortunately the power came back and I got to watch.

There was not one word about the outage on the local news. Not one word. Just the usual be afraid of your neighbor stuff.

                                     11:06 AM

February 7 2004 I went over to Laurie's. She's been writing so beautifully about her struggle to write. And she uses the word anhedonia. A word I learned from Suzanne in many discussions of how I'm doing. Great word. Terrible way to feel. I notice that ntexas99 has a blog. Has had one for two months now. Which just goes to show you how out of the loop I've been. There are just so many great blogs out there. I feel too slow.

Laurie makes me smile with musings about checking her stats and wondering why people don't leave comments and yes yes yes. Been there. Done that. Still do. Except I've been feeling so dreary that I fear my writing is ... um ... uh ... wrong some how. Not good enough. Too something. I've been afraid to check my stats. I don't want to know.

That whole problem of not wanting  to go out impacts my blogging sometimes. I don't always comment. I read. I smile. I sigh. And I get very shy. The other day I was thinking about how Dru's was the first place I felt totally comfortable commenting with no worries about how smart I may or may not be.

These days it's less about that and more about a fog filled brain. Writing my own post seems like a push.

Although. Sometimes I just can't get the comment system to work. Enetation hates me. I tried to leave a comment for Kell six times the other day. I had trouble leaving a comment here the other day.

While at the new to me blog I noticed the Ecotone topic: Food and place. I should pay more attention to the Ecotone prompt but that shyness, or reticence that I've been mentioning keeps me tight. Some what.

Food and place. Where do I begin.

Ironically it's a food from my childhood that comes immediately to mind. Chipped ham. Sundays. Coming home from church. Stop to get chipped ham for the gathering family at Grandmom's. We ate it piled on pasty white hamburger buns. Sometimes lettuce and tomato but mostly just the ham. It would tickle the inside of your mouth. We ate it with Wise potato chips.

I held this memory for so long. And then I went to Pittsburgh for a family wedding. I insisted that we have a chipped ham sandwich lunch. It was so not good. The ham had no flavor. The chips were too salty. You cannot go home again.

I should spend more time on this.

But the blog tour continued. I went to Jenni's to check out Tony's letter. Perfect. And she had a poll about which party you're going to vote. I've been saying I'm holding onto my Democratic registration only as long as it takes to vote for Dennis and then I'm going Green. But I may end up voting Democratic anyway. (puts her head in her hands and groans)

                                     7:32 PM

February 8 2004 There's nothing quite like waking up to a restaurant dream. In the dream I was cooking at a new place and I was working with a guy who wouldn't tell me what I needed to know. I was in the walk-in looking for things and I couldn't find them. I couldn't read the tickets. The funny thing is I wanted to stay asleep until I could solve all the problems.

                                     11:39 AM

February 9 2004 I thought last Monday was the first yoga class. When I woke up it was raining, really, really hard. My joints were aching. I just couldn't push myself to take the two buses I need to take to get there. As the day went on the sun came out and I was kicking myself.

But I was wrong. Class begins today. The sun is out. I'm in a remarkably good mood. In a few hours I'll be on my way.

I also got an e-mail about a speed dating with agents event next Sunday. So this week I'm going to pull up Avoirdupois and work on it. I've been calling it done and it pretty much is. But you can always make things better. And I hope that reading it will give me confidence. I have a sense of purpose.

I'm not sure why I'm feeling so positive. Nothing has actually changed. But I do. I'm even looking forward to the bus ride because I get so much reading done on the bus.

The only shadow on my mood is the worry about Kevin Cooper. So I'm going to send some of this good feeling into the big energy bank and hope it opens some hearts.

                                     9:28 AM

February 10 2004 Yoga was very good. And, as it turned out, I only needed to take one bus. And it was sunny beautiful day. All good.

Yoga has always seemed to me to be about presence. Being deeply present in your body. We did warrior pose, which is one of my favorites. It feels like dignity.

Paul wrote a column on BFB about NAAFA . It's stirred up some thinking in me about the idea of fat people as a coalition. There are comparisons made to the Gay community. In the gay community there are many kinds of people with a full spectrum of perspectives on many things. But the one thing they can agree on is that their sexuality is not pathological. And they agree that work, health care, access to public facilities and education are all things in which they deserve full participation.

Fat people have a hard time agreeing about the most fundamental thing. That our bodies are not a pathology. Many of us think that if we hadn't eaten that cookie last week we'd be thin.

I never object to anyone eating in a healthy balanced way. And part of being balanced is about knowing that a cookie is a good thing. Eating to celebrate is joyful. Food is comforting. I never object to anyone moving more. Movement is a good thing. But many people are never going to want to do an athletic level of movement. And for some people eating a balanced diet, with some joyful moments, and moving regularly is all they want to do. And some of them will be fat.

I think it's true that we, as a country, are somewhat fatter as a result of fast food and too many screens. I'm happy to advocate for good food and physical activity. But there are some folks who will always be fat. And they can still be healthy.

When fat people get asked the question about the magic pill that will make it possible for them to be thin, many find it hard to say they wouldn't want it. And we have had some pills haven't we? But we still want another one.

I always say I wouldn't take the pill. And that has to do with a desire to have an authentic relationship with my body. Which doesn't mean I try to stay fat. it just means I'm not hoping for a magic pill. And I eat my veggies. I try to do something physical every day. But I'm not interested in working out for hours every day. And I will eat a cookie with joy when I want one.

Not a day goes by that I don't hear some fat phobic comment or see something that suggests that fat people are ugly and lazy and contemptible. Not a day. Fat phobia is so hopped up right now that even diet gurus are targets for hatred. It would be nice to have an organization that did work to create a strong, informed, fat community. Conventions and pool parties and dances are fine. But we need an deeper analysis.

It's very powerful to be together as fat people. To tell our stories in places where they will be believed. But we don't need a fat ghetto. We need empowerment.

I'm kinda achy today. The yoga and the walking to and from the bus worked me. But it's a good feeling. I take great pleasure in knowing about all those little muscles. I still have that hopeful feeling that I woke up with yesterday. And I am breathing a deep sigh of relief.

                                     9:14 AM

February 11 2004 Usually I wake up, go to the living room, turn on the radio and turn on the computer. Today I decided to do some yoga first. I did as much as I could remember from and hour and a half of class in about ten minutes. Clearly I need to slow down. But it felt good.

I never remember when Karen's birthday is. I remember that it's in February. And I have it written down. So all I gotta do is look in one of my many date books and get it together. But I don't. For the last few weeks I've been thinking about it. Trying to remember to look. I noticed that I've been thinking about it more and more often. So maybe I'm tuned in because her birthday was two days ago. Picture me smacking myself in the head.

My mom gets her cards for the month together on the first of the month. She's the queen of cards. I want to be the queen of cards.

Smack.

I guess I shouldn't keep smacking. I'll undo what little bit of Zen I got going this morning in my speed yoga session.

                                     10:08 AM

February 11 2004 It's possible that I'm vesting too much hope in the speed dating event. I spent some time going through the list of agents and looking for information on line about them. I'm making little packages with a sticker on them that shows the cover I designed. It feels like something tangible to do. The agency that already rejected me will be there. Guess I won't be visiting them.

Meg has a new icon for me on the quija board. And she says subjects vary on my blog. Indeed they do. And much like Reverend Ike, I never let my subject interfere with what I have to say. Heh. The quija board is such a great community builder. I appreciate being on it.

It seems like I did have something more I was going write about but I can't remember now.

                                     9:22 AM

February 11 2004 Kobi and Kara had a baby.

Kobina Jan Ushun

And I got to hold him.

                                     5:43 PM

February 13 2004 It's Friday the thirteenth. I've always had a good feeling about Friday the thirteenth.

Much as I distrust our mayor I will have to admit that I'm very happy with what he did yesterday. Ari and Leslie, who already have rings and have been making plans to go to Canada to be married in the fall, are on their way to city hall today.

Babies and weddings. What is going on in my world?

                                     8:36 AM

February 14 2004 My feelings about marriage are not entirely positive. But I am still so pleased about what's going on in SF. I spoke to Ari. She and Leslie were at city hall today. They are now married and I am very happy for them.

I was born into a marriage that was ending. Maybe that's why. Maybe it's because I have never found a partner. But there is something about the privileging of the nuclear structure, the way people who aren't in a relationship often feel like there's something wrong in their lives. There's something about the way marriage creates credibility. There's something about the money that gets spent on weddings. There's something about property and the ways that family forms an exclusive primacy. There's something about the way I, as the single friend, am just supposed to accept that plans with me will be broken in deference to the family. It all bugs me.

But love is good. Ritual is good. Celebration is good. And there's such a feeling of joy and rightness in all of this.

Dennis was in town yesterday. I was going to go see him but an old friend from New York is in town. I spent the afternoon with her talking about old times.

One of the problems I had writing my book was that I had to write about things that were painful. It's no wonder that I resist working on it. And sometimes I feel like someone who keeps reaching for and missing the brass ring. And I have to ask myself how much of that is because I'm using ways of assessing my life that don't reflect my inner values. The up side of that kind of deep reconsideration and attempt to draw meaning from my life is that, on good days, I feel a sense of resolve. On bad days I feel lost.

It's always a coin in the air.

Moyers was good last night. But I was somewhat taken aback by the section on the FCC and decency. First of all because the conversation is still framed around the appearance of the breast and not much is said about the portrayal of a many (a white man, by the way) ripping the clothing of a woman (a black woman, by the way) while she says no. I remember when Fran Lebowitz was called upon to defend the Brooklyn museum and a piece of art that she didn't even like because the decency police were threatening funding. I feel that way now. I feel like saying we need to stop finding body parts offensive. And I wish someone was asking Justin why he thought grabbing and tearing a woman's clothing was OK.

Ah well.

So here I sit. Not on my way to a wedding. Trying to get ready to find my literary soul mate tomorrow. Feeling a little bit mooky. But also happy to have seen an old friend. And happy to live in a city celebrating love.

                                     9:06 AM

February 15 2004 It's a official. Dru is my valentine. Although, Laurie sent me a beautiful valentine early in the day. How did I get this lucky?

I woke up a little bit after five. I was going to get up at five thirty but I couldn't get back to sleep. I'm glad I got any sleep. I figured I'd be awake all night practicing talking about my book.

Yesterday I printed out a bunch of three page summaries. I've been working on the book all week. Last night I read the last few pages and I really do feel like it's a good book. But I swear, there's a part of me that gets tense as I type that. It's almost like I fear that if I'm too proud I'll get a slap from the gods.

I'm nervous. But I'm on my way. Buoyed by valentine wishes and a little heart in my comment box.

                                     6:50 AM

February 15 2004 Well.

That didn't work out.

I go everywhere early. I was awake early. I was out the door early. I didn't freak out when the bus took a long time to come. I didn't freak out when the hotel wasn't where I thought it was going to be. I sat in the lobby in front of the stairway to the room where I thought the event was going to be, reading. Finally I looked around and realized that there was another door, up a different flight of stairs.

I went and the room was packed with folks. Packed. I found the woman who was checking people in and was told there was no room. They were full. And they were.

I'm not sure it would have made a difference if I'd been there earlier. It is part of a bigger writers convention. But I felt like an idiot. I walked out of the hotel, got in a cab and was home ten minutes later.

I'm trying not to go for the fall I feel myself going for. I'm tired and I'm trying to tell myself that it might not be the best way to meet an agent. They will be meeting so many writers today. I'm trying to tell myself that it's OK.

But I feel like a fuck up.

                                     9:01 AM

February 16 2004 I did crash. Partly because I was just tired. I tried to sleep but my apartment building was noisy. I tried to watch my Netflicks stash. I couldn't get the subtitles to work on one. I had trouble concentrating on another. I tried to nap again. I ordered some Chinese food and watched Vatel. And then a lot of television.

There was a point last week when I was going to register on line for the event. I really don't know why I didn't. It may have been full then. I'll just never know. And it was a meat market. I'm not sure how much I could have handled. I might not have stayed long. I have the agents list. I can contact them on my own. It's all OK.

But it just felt really weird when the woman said we're full up. There so many people. It felt overwhelming.

If I get this book published it should be interesting to reread all this. I did give some thought to the agents coming to read my blog.

Heh.

Oh geez. It's just all so fraught.

It's Monday. It's raining. I need to get ready to go to yoga and practice my warrior pose.

                                     8:42 AM

February 16 2004 This is a post in response to stuff that's been said in the comment boxes on Paul's post about NAAFA.. The conversation there seems to have come to a conclusion, of sorts. And I felt the need to hold back there because some things that were said pissed me off. A lot.  And I don't want to go on and on at BFB. But I need to go on and on a bit.

I keep thinking about how a massage therapist has to know how to touch a person in a non sexual manner. For people who have been abused, therapeutic massage can be a way to relearn a positive relationship with their bodies. And if the therapist can't establish a sense of non sexual space, it just doesn't work. It just seems to me that understanding that sex is only one part of who we are is pretty basic.

Why is it so hard for an organization to get that maintaining a culture of dignity and respect is essential?

I think NAAFA needs to come out with a clearly articulated position separating itself from Dimensions. It's not about rejecting what has been true. People can honor the work that has been done and articulate a definite change of focus. NAAFA began as a social organization with some attention paid to civil rights. And now it's time to refocus. So thanks to everyone who helped get the organization get to where it is, but there have been some people who have felt disenfranchised and they hope people are willing to give them another chance. And they are going to make a renewed effort to educate people about the concerns of fat people and fight fat phobia.

Paul mentioned the logo. The whole web site needs work. There are broken links on the front page. Everything that has happened for a few years is all there. It give me a feeling of no one being home.

There's a lot that can be done but I honestly don't feel that there is any will on the part of the NAAFA board to fully address the issues. I'm trying not to judge that based on the comments in Paul's post. But that's what seems to be true. I don't have a lot of hope.

But I'm actually OK with NAAFA being a social organization. I'm not interested in pool parties and dinner dances but so what? People are. Let them party. Just don't ask me to pay dues.

Paul has some interesting new posts. He's doing great work. The revolution is happening. NAAFA needs to keep up.

                                     6:54 PM

February 17 2004 The other night, when I was slumped out, I watched The Extreme Makeover Home Edition. I don't know why these home make over shows capture my attention. I think it's because you can see things change. And I need to see things change. But the ideas of improvement are so dubious. This show was financed in a big way and lacked some of the charm of the shows on Discovery. I mean they spent some major money on this house.

The family's father was in Iraq and there were three boys and a mom in a very small house. The mom and boys were sent to Disney Land while the make over took place. They didn't know that the dad was brought home to "help".

So there was all this problematic meaning making. Knowing that the family was going to come home and find the father added an emotional dynamic. At the end of the show the designers put a flag in the front yard, much in the manner of Iwo Jima. The portrait of an "American" family was just so strong. And tacky.

After the mom and boys take a tour of their new house they see the dad. And believe me, I cried. It was very moving. Made me wish all the dads were home.

The make over included taking off siding and putting on stucco, tearing out bushes and making a cactus garden, moving the dad's office into the garage and making the boys bedrooms bigger, giving the mom a beautiful bathroom and the boys, who all share a bathroom, got a bigger shower and two sinks. There was new everything, dish washer, laundry machines, televisions, dishes, furniture, on and on and on.

I'm just so torn when I see this stuff. The family seemed very sweet. And they were so happy. And I was happy for them. I was happy that they got all that new stuff. They built the boys a batter cage and a miniature baseball field. Tommy La Sorda came to give them hats and bats. It was an "American" image festival. And very sweet, in many ways.

This morning I woke up dreaming that I was there at the house helping the family get used to their news stuff. Things were a mess and I was folding laundry and trying to clean up. It's the second time I've had trouble waking up because I wanted to stay asleep until I got all the problems solved.

A bunch of new stuff is fun. I kept thinking that the family wouldn't need to buy much for awhile and they could use their money for other things. Like three college educations. And I hope the high from all this gives them a boost.

It seems like the narratives of my life were about people who found a way to be happy without stuff. And I worry about families who feel the pressure to give their families all that stuff.

One of the young boys said that the best part of the whole thing was having his dad home. So maybe it's all good.

                                     10:55 AM

February 18 2004 Every once in a while I have a day in which I can not wake up. Yesterday was one. Sometimes I think it's hormones. Maybe it was the pressure of the waves of rain storms we got hit with yesterday. But I was sleep walking all day.

When it came time to go to bed I was still tired. But an hour later I was awake. I spent most of the night sleeping and reading in alternating fifteen minute segments. And yet, this morning, I am awake.

I wouldn't say I'm wide awake and full of energy. I have a little bit of a headache. But I don't feel like I'm narcoleptic.

It's all a mystery.

                                     8:56 AM

February 19 2004 I didn't really like Howard Dean. But yesterday I had television news on a lot and they were going on and on about ... hey, wha happened? He was so far ahead and wha happened? Duh huh? In each segment they played his shouting moment. The media massacred this guy. I'm not saying that he lost all those primaries because of that one thing but the way information is manipulated is just too much a part of what's going on.

The media tends to ignore Dennis. Or treat him like a joke.

I saw Noam Chomsky on CSPAN this weekend and he quoted some study that said an alarming number of people get their news from comedy news. Like, I guess, the Daily Show.

The other I day I jumped to this article form Ms. Lauren's site. I had mixed feelings about it. I was appalled reading about John Edwards daily consumption of Mctrash. I think I've made it clear that I hate fast food and would be happy if it all went away and we ate food from our local farmers markets instead. But there is this peculiar moral overlay on what the candidates eat. John Kerry comes off as the most moral since he skips meals and is upset because he can't get more bike riding done.

I had a friend who suffered from eating disorders. She told me that the anorexics were held in high regard by the bulimics because the anorexics didn't eat AT ALL.. Very moral.

There's a one liner in the article about Dennis being a vegan. As usual, since he is the guy that proves the article wrong, he isn't given much space.

This kind of thing bugs me because articles about the evils of fast food almost always include mention of how fat we all are. And I will concede that it's somewhat true that we are somewhat fatter because of fast food. But clearly you can eat fast food and not be fat. And clearly, you can be fat and not eat fast food.

I'll tell ya the one place I might be tempted to eat fast food. On a road trip. Usually when I'm on a road trip I take bags of fruit and veggies and snacks that aren't filled with chemicals. But there is something about bad diner food in the middle of no where that tastes just right. It's part of the funk. You come off a road trip feeling a little bit ragged. Like you've been through something.

When I had my band I loved the after the gig chow down at places like Denny's. I would never go into a Denny's unless it was the only place open. And it was. So we drank bad coffee and ate breakfast in the middle of the night and hoped it would calm our booze and drug poisoned systems. It was all part of an outlaw identity.

I'm more disturbed by the site of Edwards sucking down a Coke because of the corporate food smashing of real food culture than I am concerned about what it might signify in terms of his health habits.

Yesterday, while I listened to Howard Dean call it a day I had to admit that I live in a rarified political atmosphere in which the guy I didn't vote for in the last mayoral race because he wasn't radical enough is leading the country in a cause that makes me so happy. Dean calls himself progressive. And I just never felt that he was.

There's a great new Fiore.

                                     11:15 AM

February 20 2004 Democracy Now played the testimony John Kerry gave to the Senate in 1971 calling for the immediate withdrawal from Vietnam. It was remarkably fierce. It got me thinking about what being an elected official does to a person. Politics is such a maze of compromise and manipulation and image.

It's been interesting to feel as good as I do about Newsom. I'm still suspicious but I'm pretty happy with him. If Matt had done the same thing the fact that he's Green would have been an issue. The conversation would have been about the Green party and political radicalism. I'm not sure Tom would have even tried but if he had we'd be hearing about the Gay agenda. But Newsom is white, straight, married to a woman who considered beautiful, doesn't really have the support of the left and he's a liberal Democrat. So they can't take shots at him or his politics. The conversation is about Gay marriage and the constitution. As it should be.

He isn't getting a lot of support from political leaders. Even Barney Frank has said he's worried about the weddings in SF. He's worried that if things go too fast the right will push back hard. And they might. But there is some energy moving in this country right now. It feels great.

It could be argued that politicians have to represent as many people as possible, whether they agree with them or not. That's the excuse you get for the middle of the road positioning that happens in the Democratic party. "There isn't enough support." I think the people are ready for a lot more that their leaders give them credit for.

I just got an e-mail from Barbara. She and Ellen got married. I just can't belive that anything that feels this good is wrong.

Life. Liberty. And the pursuit of happiness. Separation of church and state.

On CNN they're showing film of Kerry at war. Let's hope he is the winter soldier he once was.

                                     2:41 PM

Marriage is a human right. Not a Heterosexual privilege.                (Via Cleis)

February 21 2004 Chip Monck is 64. I don't know why that bit of news struck me this morning. I wasn't at Woodstock. Mom kept me on a tight leash those days. I was grounded for most of my junior and senior year of high school.

It's not that she didn't have reason. She still doesn't know the worst of what I was up to. She doesn't know how often I took acid and hitchhiked into Georgetown during the hours I was supposed to be at school. I used to like to take acid and go to the Woodstock, the movie. And there was Chip Monck warning everyone about the bad acid.

And now he's 64.

It's not like I'm awash in remorse about how old I am. I actually like how old I am. I was just surprised.

I do understand the fear that she had every time I walked out the door. I have a lump in my throat for a week every time Renee goes back to college. But I trust her. I trust her life. I wish I could put my self between her and any harm but I know that sometimes the things that harm us are the things from which comes great realization, compassion and art. I some times wonder why we need so much realization, compassion and art.

No. No. Kidding. I'm kidding. Realization, compassion and art are good.

Sigh.

The guy who does the Socrates Cafe was on NPR this morning. Talking about the importance of talking about it all. I'd like to wander around the country talking about it all.

Thursday was the day of remembrance for executive order 9066. I didn't hear anything about it on the news. Of course too much discussion about how the US puts people in concentration camps might evoke a discussion abut Guantanamo. I read Jenni yesterday and was reminded to remember.

I remember when we heard that they were making concentration camps for political radi