"If we refuse to do the work of creating this personal version of the past, someone else will do it for us."    - Patricia Hampl

3 1 2002                                                                                                                                                           8:58 AM

Well...I didn't remember to say Rabbit Rabbit first thing...(despite the fact that I had taken a reminder note to bed with me )...but when I got to the computer my purple gorilla reminded me and I said it right away. Here's the problem. I haven't done the dishes for a few days, first because of school and then yesterday I was just lazy. It isn't a big deal because I haven't been cooking so it's really just some cereal bowls and coffee glasses. But when I walked into the kitchen I was pissed at myself for not doing them and I thought ...jeez, Tish, this is ridiculous. The problem is I think I might have said it out loud.

1. What's your favorite vacation spot?  I don't really take vacations...I just have extended times of unemployment. ( grimace)
2. Where do you consider to be the biggest hell-hole on earth?  Suburbs, in general. It's hard for me to be west of Divisidero.
3. What would be your dream vacation? Hmmmm, well, I guess it's fun to go to beautiful places like Maui and if there were massages and great dinners and someone with whom to have a great conversation...well that would be cool.
4. If you could go on a road-trip with anyone, who would it be and why?  Right now I would choose Mary Patrick, so that we could finish a conversation. We'd probably have to drive to Maine.
5. What are your plans for this weekend?  See...I just never have an answer for this one..but I might have dinner with Rick and Renee tonight.

Barbara did ultra sound on my arm yesterday and it does feel better. I knew I needed to have an adjustment but I was just trying not to think about it. My back and neck were so tight from the days of not being able to move. I'm better.

I finished the Archivist last night because I was completely obsessed. The book says lots of great things about privacy and trust but I was completely caught up in the characters and their psychological process. Not to mention the notions of spirituality and family and romance and reading. It is such a great book!   

 3 2 2002                                                                                                                                                            10:00 AM

I used to rearrange my furniture when I felt powerless. Now ...I redesign my web site. The thing is ...I really liked the way Refrigerator Door looked after I fussed with it. So I copied it. And I am feeling powerless. No specific reason. Just a general reaction to lack of income, inspiration, intention. ( Is that alliteration?) I know I don't have to worry about anything. After all, we have a shadow government, ready to handle all the problems. It gives me chills. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

Jennifer got some positive press yesterday. And, if you didn't blink, and you knew what my little blue hat looks like, you could have seen me on KPIX last night. They did a piece on fat and fit in which they replayed some of the Jennifer tape, did a brief interview with Francis, showed the fat yoga group and the swim. They had a doctor who said yes...you can be fat and fit. It was token but I do think that Jennifer's case is stirring up the kind of dialogue that needs to happen.

I did go out for dinner with Rick and Renee. We had burgers at Mo's. It's great to go there. Especially if you read Fast Food Nation and worry that you'll never again be able to eat a burger and fries. At Mo's they grind the beef daily, cut the fries from whole potatoes, use a whole leaf of romaine, tomato and red onion. They make a sauce, a blend of mayo and mustard. It's all so good and filling and real. And Renee and I have been going there for quite a while.

I love The Mirror Project. They have folks picking ten with a common theme. Right now Jessamyn West has chosen ten where books are featured. picture me grinning.

There are all these tests you can take on the Internet to find out what color you are, what cheese, what Tolkien character. Actually I haven't seen that one yet but some one must be working on it. This one caught me. I'm always whining about being one day too early for grace.

3 3 2002                                                                                                                                                                 8:25 AM

I am trying to be in a better mood. Really I am. I was happier after some conversation with Suzanne, Barbara, and Kristina last week. I felt happy after I saw Rick and Renee on Friday. But, yesterday was so full of bad news. And I read a heart rending entry from Anita, blogging in Bombay. There is just so much going on in the world and I'm here in Babylon by the bay. There's the layer of worry about the world. And then there's my own dissatisfaction with what's going on in my life and worries about money. And the worries about friends and family.

My arm is better. And I've been doing a good job of drinking more water.

A while back, right after I'd graduated and before I began the MFA program, I had a talk with Kara. I was kind of trying to work out what I wanted to do, so I described the way I might like it to feel. I said I wanted to spend the morning quietly, writing, doing e-mail, drinking coffee. And that's pretty much what I do. I mark time by Democracy Now. When it's over I need to do stop spacing out and do something. These days that means write or read for school.

Saturday only differs in that I listen to NPR. ( National Purchased Radio) When car talk comes on it's time to move. Yesterday I pecked at some writing until my elbows began to burn. Then I tried to read the HD. I love HD but my concentration was nil. The only thing I could read was blogs.

I've been reading new blogs lately and on Jeneane Sessum's blog she gives some the best advice on writing I've ever read.

"Write like no one’s there. Write like everyone’s there. Write as if you have no audience, because you don’t. You are part of a conversation. You are completely and perfectly free to explore, to not care, to lose yourself in conjecture. You are free to destroy notions you’ve always had. You are welcome to challenge me and everything I thought was true. You are advised to listen, to reflect, to engage.

And then, when you are done with all of that, do it again tomorrow."

 So...that's what I'm doing.

3 4 2002                                                                                                                                                        8:17 AM

This was on NPR yesterday morning.

Karen noticed a shift in my page and articulated quite well. It has to do with my new blog infatuation. I barely noticed but it's true. Lately I do make an effort to find interesting things for people to look at or read. The people that read me are mostly friends with no time to trail around the Internet looking for silliness. But Karen pointed out that it's like I'm in a conversation with all these people. It's true. And it's cool. Because there is all this art and expression going on. I don't really know these people and it's more like I'm talking to them when they're not around. In other words they may not read me. And I'm not necessarily looking for friends. I just admire the drive to communicate and share info and make pretty stuff and write. And I like the variety of voices on blogs.

I'm not sure what differentiates a journal from a blog. Willa has both. Bloggers cross referance each other. They really do have a conversation. I'm not in that loop. I don't want to spend any more time on line than I already do so I don't sign up for a blogger account or anything. But my journal almost seems boring with out the links. There isn't that much going on in my life. I read. I write. I worry. That's about it.

I did swim. Always fun. Arms moving through blue water, weightless, dreamy. I can do things in the water that I can't do with gravity pulling at me. I can do jumping jacks and run in place and it all feels so good.

Chicago.

It's Monday. A new week. Must do things. Now.

3 5 2002                                                                                                                                                           8:37 AM

Yesterday was full of distraction. Good distractions, like long conversations on the phone, but distractions none the less. So I just didn't get much done and I've got stuff to do for school.

And I wanted to go to a lunch time conversation with Rela Mazali, an Israeli writer and feminist peace activist who wrote a book Maps of Women's Goings and Stayings. As a result, I'm feeling slightly harried.

Meanwhile, this paragraph from Kalilily demonstrates my blog addiction. But don't even start clicking if you have no time. I'm still wanting an uninterrupted hour to work through it all.

"Sometimes it’s like meditating on a string of beads – from Golby to Himmer to AKMA to Sanders… At other times my blogrolling seems like saying the Stations of the Cross – dramatic, moving, disturbing, yet somehow distant, and only of peripheral interest to me. Until I move away from the computer to do the dishes that are stacked up in the sink and start thinking..."

Today is election day. Doesn't that seem weird? Just another thing I have to do. But I want to cast my vote for Jeff.

OK, gotta go.

3 6 2002                                                                                                                                                       9:27 AM

It's raining. I'm sitting here with my coffee and my toast and I'm feeling pretty lucky that I don't have to run out the door. The rain bugs my knees but right now I'm enjoying the sound of it against the window.

Rela Mazali was fantastic. She's going to be at Modern Times on Thursday. I'm thinking about going. Kristina was there. We found a little Japanese restaurant, the name of which I do not remember, and ate California rolls, Gyoza, Tempura, more stuff. Then we went to Green Apple and Kristina disappeared into the poetry section. I barely got her out in time for class.

Supervisor Chris Daly is doing his Homeless Summit tomorrow. I'm hoping they'll have it on Channel 26.

Cynthia noticed that my homepage was in default grey. DOH! Since I now know where to look for the HTML I looked and there was no code for the color, despite the fact that it was set in the preferences. Can you say tweaky software? I am going to have make the time to learn some HTML. It's just too frustrating when I can't get what I want to show up. thanks to Cynthia's HTML skills and advice I think it's white now. Am I right?

Must read more HD for tonights class now.

3 7 2002                                                                                                                               9:47 AM

The schedule for the Homeless Summit. It does not seem to be on 26. Unless they start the broadcast late.

Arundhati Roy did jail time. The court kept in mind "that she is a woman." Uhhuh.

It is raining again. Today it just seems to add to my bad mood. I got a reality check about my financial situation and now I'm feeling tense and miserable.

                                                                                                                                                                         12:04 PM

So, when I published this morning, at 9:47, I had actually just broken through my misery as a result of this, but I felt like I needed to get on with the day. I took a shower, got dressed, made the bed, gathered up the laundry, all the while I was smiling, thinking about Henry and his Dad and the gum.

I had myself buried under needing to find a job, learn HTML and CSS so that I'm not at the mercy of my web editor, write the paper for Ethical Issues, work on the writing for workshop despite the fact that I hate it, find a job, pay bills, do the laundry, shop, clean the apartment, stop the war, feed the homeless...all today. Yeah, right.

Yesterday I was telling Marilyn about a childhood (that I did not have) in which you know that there are bad things going on, like war and money problems, but the adults are taking care of all that and your job as a child is to learn how to do long division (not that I ever did) and play with your toys. I want to think about god that way. Like there are all these bad things going on, but we are contained in something larger, god, spirit, the universe, the dharma, whatever. And we have to focus on our individual part of all that and do it really well. Which isn't to say that I should ignore all that bad stuff, but rather I need to focus on my task list for the day and work through it and have some faith in life.

And something about this guy and how much he loves his son and the art full way that he documents his sons life and Henry and the gum...it just made me feel ...better. Henry works better than the thought screen helmet!

3 8 2002                                                                                                                                                           8:43 AM

It's International Woman's day.

After my dramatic mood shift yesterday (thanks again Mike and Henry) I did the dishes (including the aforementioned silverware drawer - all coffee grounds are gone - that only took two months), unearthed the job application from the pile of crap on my table, filled it out, cleaned up the pile of crap on the table, figured out how to use my fancy new computer checks (almost, I didn't see where to enter the memo line until I'd printed all of them), hauled the laundry down the three flights of steps, went to Walgreens to pick up my film, discovered that I'd used Seattle Filmworks film (sigh, now I have to figure out if I want to deal with mailing it or throw it away), mailed the bills, made Westbrae seaweed ramen with some asparagus, read a pile of old The Nation, Sun and Harpers, voted for purple and ate an apple.

Is that the longest run on sentence ever or what?

Life is such an up and down thing for me. I was feeling so nutrionaly superior because of the ramen. I mean it had seaweed in it, and miso, and whole wheat noodles and I was going to put tofu and asparagus in it. But the tofu I had was sour. I realized it was like two weeks (maybe more) old. Then I felt bad because I had wasted the tofu.

1. What makes you homesick? I don't get homesick.
2. Where is "home" for you? Is it where you are living now, or somewhere else (ie: Mom & Dad's house, particular state/city)? This might be the reason I don't get homesick...I don't have a place I call home. Maybe Boulder, since I lived there during my twenties and still have such great friends there. But, I wouldn't want to live there again.
3.What makes it home for you? People? Things? People and things. My books and music and salt and pepper shaker collection. I mean my stuff gives me that home feeling.
4.Where is the furthest you've been from home, miles-wise? Well, since I haven't identified home...this is hard....but I guess...India is the farthest I've been away from this country and I lived in Boulder at the time so, 7686 miles.
5.What are your plans for this weekend? I'm going to see Laurie Anderson tonight. Swim on Sunday. Hopefully get LOTS of writing done in between.

Pattie is going to be on CFUV at 4:00 PST. Talking about love!

3 9 2002                                                                                                                                                            10:13 AM

Laundry. Recycling. Cooking. Eating. Cleaning up. It just sucks up the day.

I didn't have much to say about International Women's day yesterday. It was fun to listen to Amy Goodman interview Eve Ensler who was on top of a mountain in Kabul. There was celebration in Kabul and protests in Singapore, both of which I learned about from Heather this morning. I can't explain why I didn't write more yesterday. I felt detached from the whole idea. And then I read these articles.

I was being detached and abstract about it all...like...everyday should be women's day...blahblahblah. It's hard to maintain that kind of detachment when you read about women who've had acid thrown in their face.

Laurie Anderson didn't say anything about IWD but she was pretty great. This morning I'm sleepy and spacy.

Perhaps more coffee...

Cynthia...did I fix it yet?

3 10 2002                                                                                                                                                       9:02 AM

I was so tired yesterday. And I knew I needed to write. I was determined to not leave my computer until I had something written, which I knew meant pizza driven nutrition. I just didn't want to take the time to walk to Safeway, prepare food and clean up. I should have North Beach Pizza on speed dial. I got about two pages down and I succumbed. I took a nap. I often have weird dreams when I take a nap. And pizza gives me weird dreams. The combo was extra weird. I woke up dazed and confused. Ate an orange and an apple hoping that they would usher in some sanity and went back to the writing.

Caitlin called. That was fun. And then Renee called and came over to do school stuff.

I'm not the only one struggling with my background color.

Yesterday on This American Life they did stories about people with mental disability. People from this film were on. It was quite lovely.

Here's a petition to sign to save the Musee Mecanique.

I woke up and made waffles. mmmmm

3 11 2002                                                                                                                                                       9:48 AM

Laurie Anderson said she's been looking for ways to escape her own perception by putting herself in weird situations. One of those situations was to get a job at McDonalds. Yesterday I found a link to this on blog sisters. EEK.

Yesterday was mellow. Renee did physics homework while I worked on writing. It was great to have her here. Then we went and got the stuff we need to make mac and cheese. Well, we used shells and four kinds of cheese so it was not exactly mac and cheese. We had salad and chicken, artichoke sausage. She went off to other adventures and I crashed. I watched TV and did some Internet stuff.

It's hard to belive that it's been six months since 9/11. It seems both years ago and like yesterday. Sometimes I feel like our desire to get back to normal is so strong that we ignore the fact that there is a war going on. I feel helpless. Ineffective. Sometimes I am tight with misery. Every Saturday morning brings news of more violence in the Middle East.

"Some people practice throughout their entire lives just by paying attention to breathing. Everything that is true about anything is true about breath: it's impermanent; it arises and it passes away. Yet if you didn't breathe, you would become uncomfortable; so then you would take in a big inhalation and feel comfortable again. But if you hold onto the breath, it's no longer comfortable, so you have to breathe out again. All the time shifting, shifting. Uncomfortableness is continually arising. We see that everything keeps changing." -Sylvia Boorstein on the Daily Dharma

I try to find perspective but I am also mindful that this is going on.

Peace.

3 12 2002                                                                                                                                                              9:31 AM

Other than banging on the computer keys all day, I didn't do much. I did get some writing done. My arms were sore when I was done. Oh well.

I've been musing on my spirituality lately. It's so ill defined and it shape shifts to my mood. If I'm feeling needy and inept I reach out to the father god that I never really had. Pretty foolish. It's like driving into the same brick wall over and over. I like mother gods, but I never really know how to interact with them. I end up with this loose idea of energy, noticing the connective tissue in which we all live. And I get fired up by the political god, the fight for social justice. All this thinking is probably up right now because I'm writing about India. It was so much easier to be in the swoon of guru love.

I think it's just about wanting to acknowledge that there is something larger and maybe even unifying. Unifying worries me because, too often, it's seems to squelch diversity. So, I keep coming back to silence. I just don't know what I mean by spirituality. I only know I feel it when I am quiet and attentive. I know it anchors me. And I'd like to be able to talk about it more.

And just as I type this, Steve sends me a link to an article about his brother in law. This is courage. Wake up every day and don't give up.

3 13 2002                                                                                                                                                     10:41 AM

Oh no! It's Wednesday the 13th!! Oh...wait..it's Friday the 13th that we worry about...false alarm.

This is why I love blogs and on line journals. I woke up this morning in my usual morning after workshop funk. I wasn't going to do an entry because my workshop really gives me a deep feeling of ...what's the use? But I do my morning web wandering and I get to Jessamyn's journal. And she blogs this. I didn't even know that this was going on.

And Jessamyn was hanging out with Judith, who blogged a whole bunch of things about Israeli soldiers who refuse to serve, and The Not in My Name site and more links to people who don't support the invasion and occupation of Palestinian land.

Paul blogged the fuckcorporatefood blog, which just made me happy!

There is a laugh out loud story on Blogsisters about a woman's trip to the gyno.

Kalilily worries that blogging is too much life-of-the-mind. She quotes Dave Weinberger.

 "We humans are at our best when we are involved with others. We are at our best when we are social and connected. The Web is a world that is profoundly social. Its geography itself is social, a map of connections and passions. It is thus a world that we've made for ourselves that is a reflection of our best nature and a place where can imperfectly perfect our imperfect natures."

But she uses ball room dancing to keep it actual as well as virtual.

I know that I'm lucky to have the time to do all this reading and thinking and life-of-the-mind stuff. I know most people don't have the time to click through blog after blog. But, for me, today, blogging makes me feel better.

3 14 2002                                                                                                                                                                9:36 AM

OK. I read this story on Blog Sisters in which a woman has an appointment with the gynecologist. She gets a call from the doctor's office to tell her that she is rescheduled for early that morning. She comments that she likes to take a little extra effort over hygiene when making such visits, but this time she wasn't going to be able to make the full effort. She uses a wash cloth that is sitting next to the sink to give herself a quick wash. She says she was a little surprised when the doctor said, "My, we have made an extra effort this morning, haven't we?" After school, while her six-year-old daughter is playing, she calls out from the bathroom, "Mum, where's my washcloth?" She tells her to get another one from the cupboard. "No!", she replies "I need the one that was here by the sink. It had all my glitter and sparkles in it." I laughed out loud  and tried to blog to it but I haven't figured out how to link to the exact spot in a blog where something is, so my link just goes to Blog sisters. Later, I start to tell Marilyn and before I get a sentence out she's finishing it. She's heard the story. Later still, I tell the story in class and several people have heard it as well. I am so shocked! Is it a joke? Is it an Urban Myth? Wha happened?

I was talking about my blog/journal addiction last night and someone asked me how much time I spend reading them. So, this morning I timed myself. Close to an hour. But, I think that was because there was this great god conversation going on between Jeneane and Tom in which Tom says, "God is not just -- he is attentive." And then there was an article about blogging. And Mike linked to Harper's Weekly because it talks about Bush trying to get Stevie Wonder's attention by smiling and waving at him. So, it all just took a long time. (She says, desperately trying to rationalize.)

I do have lots to do today. I have a paper due next week and, although it's more than half done, I might delete huge parts of it and take it in another direction. Why? Because I'm nuts. I need to clean my apartment....in a big way...like move the butcher block in the kitchen and mop under it. I need to do some laundry. And I think the last time I was working on this paper and doing laundry I ended up not being able to move my arm for three days. sigh.

On Tuesday, when Marilyn was driving me to school, I saw a Girl Scout selling COOKIES!!! She deftly pulled the car to the curb and I flew out of it, running toward the unsuspectiong girl. Marilyn thought it was odd since I'm such a food snob but come on...

...Thin Mints.

3 15 2002                                                                                                                                                            9:23 AM

It probably doesn't matter, but the reason I think of my site as a journal and not a blog is that I write in the morning, publish, and that's that. Bloggers go back and add stuff during the day. It's a small distinction. Sometimes I write and use no links. Willa has Moodswings, her blog, separate from her journal and it seems tidier. Or something. I keep the refrigerator door filled with links but it isn't really a blog. And sometimes I have nothing to say, so blogging gives me something to put on my page. I'm probably the only one obsessing about it.

So, yesterday, after I had already spent an hour blog crawling, I went to Wanna Write. There was a link to this article about Arundahati Roy. And then I checked a few more journals. Sheesh. I spend a lot of time doing this. It's different every day, sometimes there's not much going on out there and some days I'm not in the mood. But if you add it to the time I spend in the Gab Cafe the time I spend writing this stuff and e-mail...well...it adds up.

Uh oh. Cynthia sent me a link and I learned the truth. They also say the George waving at Stevie thing was false ...but I think that's just Washington spin.

Since I had worried myself about my web time I spent the day cleaning, doing laundry, even made myself a real dinner. Snapper, salad and the rest of the mac-n-cheese. I drank a glass of wine and talked to Mary on the phone. It's so good to have things all clean and cozy.

I watched as much as I could handle of the Rosie helps the children show. AKA Rosie comes out. I'm glad she came out and I think the reasons she came out are a good ones. But, it pisses me off that she's had a relationship that she has denied. It was very hard to listen to the anti gay rhetoric. And Rosie reaffirms this loopy idea of normal. Straight. Thin. She idealizes these things. She gives a mixed message. She hopes her kids are straight, because it's easier. I guess I just don't understand easy. What is easy? But it is just bitchy of me to criticize her.

 1. What's your favorite animal? uh.....
 2. What pets have you had in your lifetime? A yellow parakeet with red eyes, named Jerry, when I was a kid. Cats,(maybe eight) and a dog named Tennessee. All came to untimely ends. Don't take me there. Fish. Nothing now.  
 3. Is there any specific pet that you've wanted but never had? Why? I've wanted an Old English Sheepdog. I love the big fluffiness of them. But, I think I like the idea of having animals more than I do actually having animals.
 4. Are you allergic to any animals? Somewhat. Cats.
 5. Do you have any 'pet' pet peeves (your pets or others')? I wish people with dogs wouldn't act like you shouldn't be afraid of their dog when the dog is running toward you. I've always been a little afraid of dogs.

(Phew! I'm glad there was no -what are you doing this weekend -question. I always feel like such a dweeb when I have nothing to answer.)

3 16 2002                                                                                                                                                       9:49 AM

Spent most of yesterday working on my paper about Incidents. When my hands started to feel like ice-cycles I knew it was time to stop. That's usually the first sign of problems. The blood just can't push through the swollen tissue, I guess. The paper is almost done. I was having trouble finishing it and then last night, in bed, I came up with an idea. Hope I can remember it. It drives me crazy. I can't think of a thing to write until I shut down the computer and get in bed. Then I am flooded with ideas. Ideas that won't let me sleep.

But I had to get away from the computer. I read for a while and watched DarkAngel, wondering all the while why I like these chicks-who-kick-ass shows. It seems so antithetical to my main...theme...project...or something. But, in fact, I love them. Watched the Afghan girl. There was something troubling about it to me. I was intrigued but there was something about how much money was being spent to determine if she was "the girl" and how poor she is and how America makes everyone into a star. I mean, imagine the Afghan girl on Letterman and Oprah. I'm not trying to be funny. There was something gnawing at me while I watched. I think the photographer guy is very sweet. But still...there's an exploitation going on. But she is compelling. I wanted to know what happened with her. And I want to know if she got any money for being the icon that she has been made into.

I saw this yesterday on Mike's site.

This morning they're all over the place. I love that!

Paul blogged two articles about folks who have died from diet drugs. Yesterday Kaye told me a story about a woman who had he stomach stapled and vomited for two years as a result. She now has esophageal cancer. Anything but fat.

3 17 2002                                                                                                                                                      9:58 AM

My name is Patricia, as a kid, I thought it was my day.

But I'm not Irish and I'm not Catholic. I'm Welsh and English and Methodist/Buddhist/Hindu/Sufi/etc. I knew nothing of Irish history. I don't love the drink a ton of green beer thing.

When I saw the Girl Scout cookies, I went crazy. I bought four boxes. I've eaten a box and I'm already sick of them. This is the problem with sentimental food. When I was a kid in Pittsburgh, PA, we went to a place called Isalys after church for chipped ham. It was ham that was sliced paper thin, almost shredded. We made chipped ham sandwiches on soft hamburger buns and ate them with Wise potato chips. The last time I went to Pittsburgh, I made a big deal about having that meal. It just wasn't great. Some things are better left to memory. The Girl Scouts are cool. But, does any one want some cookies?

I've been teased about my is it a blog?/is it a journal? debate. And it's true. Who really cares? But, then yesterday I started to register with this new blog portal and I read ...this is only for blogs.sigh. Am I a blog? The portal is cool.  

Brought to you by the Friday-five folks.

You hear writers say, "Writers have to write." You hear writers say,"I'd rather do anything but write." I fall all along that spectrum. Some days it's like pulling teeth. Some days it flows. The paper is pretty much done. But I know I'll keep picking at it until Wednesday.

Is it just me or are commercials louder the later it gets? I swear. I know they put the sound up on commercials in general but it seems like as the night goes on they play more commercials with rock and roll and drums and screaming. It drives me crazy. I mute them if I'm only watching TV. But, if I'm doing something on the computer I just ignore them, which is really hard when it's like disco time for capitalism. I think they know people get sleepy so they play drums. Uh huh. How's that for a conspiracy theory?

I haven't done anything for Women's month. I didn't do anything for Black history month. I keep thinking it might be a good idea but...I just don't do it. However, Pattie sent a link to this article about Our Bodies Our Selves. Some memories are worth revisiting.

It's Sunday. I'm goin swimmin.

3 18 2002                                                                                                                                                         9:27 AM

I'm all wound up. Today, the mighty, mighty Noam Chomsky is speaking at my school at 1:00. I love this guy! I'm going early, so that I can get a good seat. Then tonight some of our lovely teachers are reading, including the much beloved Aaron Shurin. How's that for sucking up?

Swimming was perfect. We did jumping jacks in the pool. Then found pretty good Chinese food. Spicy eggplant and green beans in garlic sauce. We found a store that didn't make me want to run out of it screaming. Marilyn wanted to go to Down Home Music. And ....I'd like to blame her .... for the money I spent. I mean, book store, music store...it's like too hard for me to resist. I didn't buy all 100 things I wanted. But I did get Shumba, Thomas Mapfumo. And I flirted with one of the guys in the store. Deep sigh. Definite Eros buzz. Did an Internet chat with Pattie for a truly ridiculous amount of time. But I was having so much fun! It was late when I snapped out of it and realized I was hungry. Ate turkey and an apple and Terra Stix for dinner. Those stix are spiky! I bout cut my lip open on one of em!

Chomsky. Gotta go.

3 19 2002                                                                                                                                                          8:51 AM

I am a happy dahlia.

Trying to paraphrase Chomsky seems...unwise. And there were 500 take home messages. But the one I liked the best ...don't talk truth to power...talk truth to each other. I do like to think of my self as a storm the Bastille kind of a girl. But it can be said that the most radical things occur in relationships. And if we work together to educate ourselves and each other...power will hold no sway.

Since I have never actually matured emotionally (not past 12 or 13) the truly high point for me was when Kristina and I were walking into the parking lot and we saw Noam driving out.

I said, "Thank you."

He leaned his head out of the car window and said, "You're welcome."

Sigh. Heart swollen.

The faculty reading was good. Aaron was .... well ...perfect. Aaron uses language like a painter, a cook, a musician. I love it when someone uses a word,or words, in a way that I walk around thinking about those words for the next few days. How did the person use them? How has everyone ever used them? How might I use them? And the individual words now have a new resonance. Echo and Amplitude. I have to look them up, even if I know their meaning, because suddenly they have been used in a way that makes me wonder about their possibilities. That's what Aaron does.

Heart swollen more.

Yeah, it was a good day. It takes a lot to fill up my double Gemini, Libra moon air head. And I was full. And then...so was my heart.

The poem tag project has its own page. And I'm linked on it. Woo Hoo.

 3 20 2002                                                                                                                                                     11:25 AM

It's been one year. One year ago put up my first on line journal entry.

When I was in high school I kept notebooks. I wrote daily, almost hourly. I filled them with drawings and poems and quotes and blather. With each passing year of working-adult life my journals got smaller. Even now my efforts at keeping an offline journal aren't going that well. But I do come to the screen and the keyboard every day and put something together for the site. When I do miss a day...people send me e-mails.

People wonder why I do this. I wonder why I do this. At first I thought I had to write meaning full essays every day. I worried about content. Now there are days when I just blog.

There is a certain kind of depression that I get into. I am silenced by it. And I isolate when I feel that way. Doing the page blasts through that reflex, sometimes. I do my morning blog crawl and my mood is shifted. Sometimes it gets worse. But sometimes it gets better. And the people I read are not pundits. They are real and struggling and every day (or most days) they come to a screen and a keyboard and tap out a message, put it in a HTML bottle and hurl it into the Internet ocean. It's an act of hope.

When I first got my computer and went on line, it felt like standing in the middle of Manhattan. I knew there was a lot of cool stuff going on ... but where? Micki told Jeane to tell me about Willa and she became my portal. I followed her links to the cool stuff.

I still fuss with the design of the page. I still don't know HTML. I worry about the coolness of my site. I still get thrilled if I see my name on someone else's site. It's a funny mix of public and private writing.

I still read Willa. And now I read bobbi and Elaine. I go to Jezebel. I saw Justin on MSNBC, way back when he had long dreds. I still read him. I watch the development of Blogsisters and read Jeneane. I am comforted by the shared ire of Paul. I spend the morning looking at Jessamyn's vacation photos. I check in on Henry. I look forward to Friday. Most of these people don't know me or read me. I am still shy about connecting. But I am anxiously waiting for the new MT and I'm gonna try to put it in my page. I go to aortal and ageless and look for more. I am blown away by the artistry. I click on connect. I click on publish. I eat more Pad Thai and try again.  

3 21 2002                                                                                                                                                  9:03 AM

Kobi took some amazing photos of the Cannery fire.

So...I was in class...and my teacher is pregnant. She's been showing a little more every week. This week she defiantly has a little more baby belly. I heard someone making the joke to her that they'd noticed she'd been showing but that if they had mentioned it earlier she might have been mad because it might have implied that she was getting fat. It as one of those casual, no big deal jokes in which the implication is so obvious that sentences are barely completed. Another classmate had given me something to read in which she mentions that a photo makes her look fat. It occurs to no one that I do not just look fat. I am fat. I am not pregnant I am fat. And that the embedded notion in their inference that fat has meaning and that meaning is not good is spoken in a room where I am sitting. It occurs to no one that it is incredibly rude. Because ...after all fat is ugly, right?

So ...say it to my face.

Let me clear. I'm sure if any of these folks read this, they'll be abashed. They're nice people. They wouldn't want to hurt me. And ...after all...we all agree don't we...fat is ugly and no one would want to be fat. Well...we don't all agree. And I am fat. And I didn't wake up one day and think...gee..I'm going to lay around and eat and not move until I get really fat.

This stuff just gets me so mad and so sad.

But Nader is in the fight.

I'm tired.

3 22 2002                                                                                                                                                          8:28 AM

So...yesterday...I was a slug. I did...not much. I was just weepy an beleaguered.

Late in the day, I decide to work on a blogger project that Pattie Thomas and I had discussed. We both were tagged with the Fatty Pattie thing as kids. So, we have been saying we should start a think tank, or a journal, or ...sumin. So ...I started a blog. It was pretty fun. She was in Canada and I was in SF. We were in a Yahoo chat, picking templates for the blog, it was so cyber-wild. And fun. In the process I found a way to put comments on my page. If you click on amplify you should be able to leave me a note. But...we'll see... if it works. It works on the blogger page. But I'm not sure about how it will work with my page.

I don't think we know what we're going to do over there at fattypatties. Lot's of pomo riffin. We know we share some fierce political analysis of fatness and culture. Pattie wrote the brilliant side bar explanation of who we are.

And somehow...doing it ...made me feel better.

3 23 2002                                                                                                                                                           9:47 AM

The comments work! Now you can make wise cracks, give sage advise or just share the love. I love this stuff! I was glued to the computer trying to work through it all. If it works the way I think it does ...I'll be working on all my pages. Maybe I can get the MFA page going. Suzanne put in the first comment. This morning I have to see if it travels with the post when I move it to the story. Gulp.

My new epigraph is from Doris Lessing and she's talking about when she was a Communist. The link goes to an article in the New York Times, which I think you might not be able to get to unless you're a member. But membership is free. In the article, she also makes a comment about feminists not working toward participation. I'm not sure what she means by feminists. Every once in a while I hear a conversation about feminism that confuses me. I mean feminism is about many things because it's about a formalization of the discussion of women's varied experience. Certainly it's about equal participation. And it's about understanding the ways in which our experience is different than the experience of men. But, the male experience is not one thing either. Some day we may be past all these words and conversations, but we have a long way to go. We're no where near anything that looks like equality. But Lessing implies that feminists just shout at men. Uh...no. I used her quote because I just love her. And I love the fact that she challenges belief. But I do not get why anyone disparages the idea of feminism.

I got to spend the afternoon with Adrienne yesterday. We hadn't seen each other since September so we had lots to talk about. It was a gab fest! So, I had a great day.

Now I have to publish this page and see if I followed directions and the comments still work. If they don't I may never get away from my computer. Actually, if they do it may be worse, because I'll want to them on every page.

 3 24 2002                                                                                                                                                          9:06 AM

This was spooky. Blogger went down and I couldn't access FattyPatties or any of the other Blogspot hosted blogs that I read. Then, my cable went out, right in the middle of a replayed rules committee meeting. I started to wonder how I would survive, deprived as I was of input. So, I cleaned my stove.

It was covered with oil splatters from the other day. I put a frozen veggie burger into hot oil. KaBoom. Well, KaBoom isn't the right word. More like CrackleSplatPop.  And I did other domestic chores, including making soup with chard, miso and tofu. Such culinary purity and it was good.

My screen life was back by then and I had comments. Yippie! I listened to my supervisors, read my blogs, ate my soup, the scent of Ajax wafting from the kitchen. Life is good.

Found this rant about feminism. Followed by another. A lively discussion ensues in her comments, featuring this quote "I myself have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is: I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat." - Rebecca West. Which I've heard before and smile every time I hear it again.

I decided to read Wake Up I'm Fat last night. Camryn quit smoking and gained some weight. Her father told her that maybe she should start smoking again, until she could get her weight under control. Uhuh. A father who would rather have a daughter with lung cancer than fat. She didn't talk to him for a while, returned his letters unopened. Ultimately she forgives him. I'm still mad at him though. I'll probably finish the book today.

I can't go swimming because I don't have a ride. I am a bit bummed. But I have writing I need to do.

 3 25 2002                                                                                                                                                         9:56