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<td width="708" bgcolor="white"><p><font face="Arial" color="#0D660D"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><b> December 2003</b></span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><a id="e462" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e462"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e462"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
1</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font></p>
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<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(763)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_763"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 8:26
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e463" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e463"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e463"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
1</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
think I should clarify something about my
Sunday post. I was in a weird state of mind
when I wrote it. I'm always frustrated by
having physical pain. I never know what
to do. I know there are resources but I
become paralyzed by the idea of what should
be true. I shouldn't have to use resources
that are there for the poor. I should have
it together. And the shoulds are loud and
wrong headed. I spin for a while and then
I go on. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
was tired and achy from a night of restlessness
and pain. I read something that bugged
me and it reminded me of some other things
that have been bugging me and I tried to
write about it without taking it on directly.
And, honestly, I still don't want to take
it on directly. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It
was something that was written in a manner
that I knew was intended as parody, or hyperbole.
But I had to stretch to hold it. And it
reminded me of all the times I've stretched
to hold something that is intended to be
one thing but hits me as sexism. I have
a friend who sends me lists of jokes about
men and women. I just don't get the joke.
Or. I do get the joke. But I don't like
it. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Writing
about something without writing about it
makes for bad writing. And I'm still doing
it. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Oh
well. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">So,
for the record, I get linked plenty. I have
found some wonderful friends on line. It's
not just about links. I'm grateful for anyone
who spends the time it takes to read anything
I write, ever. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
haven't watched Oprah for a while. She pisses
me off too much. But when she's good, she's
good. And I knew she had <a href="http://www.booksite.com/texis/scripts/oop/click_ord/showdetail.html?sid=3471&isbn=0743262174&music=&buyable=0&assoc_id=">Cry
The Beloved Country</a> as her book group
book because there are stacks of it in every
book store with the sticker on the cover.
I do hate those stickers. As always you
gotta give her propers for getting people
to read. It's a beautiful book. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">She
<a href="http://www.oprah.com/tows/pastshows/200312/tows_past_20031201.jhtml">sent
three women from the book club to South
Africa.</a> As the show began we see the
women in an expensive hotel and shopping
in a mall. And then they take a trip to
Soweto. The obvious portrait of the extremes.
Which isn't to say that the extremes don't
exist. But there was something about Soweto
as a stop on a grande tour that felt unreal.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It
was in the <a href="http://www.apartheidmuseum.org/">Apartheid
Museum</a> that things got a little bit
real. The women of color went in one side
and the white woman went in the other. They
were separated by bars. The African American
woman wept. If you go to the site for the
museum you are given the choice to enter
through the white only or black only door.
I stared at the screen for a few minutes
in shock, unsure about what to do. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">The
women on Oprah continued on their tour.
Villages. Schools. Mountain tops. And <a href="http://www.robben-island.org.za/">Robben
Island</a>. They sat in the cell in which
Mandela began so many years of imprisonment
and the talked. I don't think I would be
able to talk. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">At
that point the show turned to <a href="http://www.oprah.com/tows/pastshows/200312/tows_past_20031201_b.jhtml;jsessionid=CIWGOZ5FUT23LLARAYICFEQ">some</a>
<a href="http://www.acloserwalk.org/">talk</a>
about AIDS in Africa and other parts of
the world, ending with Oprah and her book
group at the <a href="http://46664.tiscali.com/">big
concert.</a> </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It
was moving. And interesting. <a href="http://www.datadata.org/flash.php">Star
studded</a>. Oprah will be sending a gazzillion
books to South African libraries. Which
is a good thing. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It
also felt slick and glamorized. An
on the one hand/on the other hand kinda
thing. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">So
much beauty in the world. So much horror.
So much. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(764)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_764"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 10:37
PM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e464" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e464"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e464"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
2</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;"><a href="http://elayneriggs.blogspot.com/">Happy
Birthday Elayne</a>! Happy birthday <a href="http://randomwalks.com/drublood/archives/016010.html">Monk</a>!</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
may be falling into a brain blur. Everything I see seems
to splay into a spectrum of meaning. I am given to seeing
both sides of things. I'm actually given to seeing more
sides of things than may actually exist. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Heh.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;"><a href="http://www.sapphosbreathing.com/">Cleis</a>
<a href="http://www.sapphosbreathing.com/archives/000200.html">picked
up on</a> my <a href="http://www.fatshadow.com/November2003.htm#e461">sexism
post</a>. I got the thrill/paranoia rush that I often
do when I see my own words on someone else's page. Cleis
looked at how many blogs on her blog roll were by men
and by women and notes that "My blog roll is just
a list of what I read." Which is absolutely true.
And there are people with no blog roll. <a href="http://www.yarinareth.net/caveatlector/">Dorothea</a>
<a href="http://www.yarinareth.net/caveatlector/archive/week_2003_06_01.html#e001759">moved</a>
her <a href="http://yarinareth.net/stats/blogroll.html">blog
roll</a> off her main page. My own blog roll has become
completely unwieldy. I do not get through it every day.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">So
what is the meaning of a blog roll? </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">When
I come upon a new blog I look at the blog roll. If I
see people I know and read I feel connected. It's a
superficial connection. It's the beginning of relationship.
I have also had the experience of seeing a blog roll
full of unfamiliar names and, a few clicks later, I
find myself in a whole new world of interesting writing.
I often read through other people's blog rolls. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">There's
only been a few times that I took someone off my blog
roll. I do think about how people feel when they are
delinked. Recently, I was delinked. It happened when
the person was reorganizing. I think it was unconscious.
But it's been a while and I'm still not on the roll.
And it does make me feel erased. But should it?</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">There
are people on my blog roll who don't have me on their's
and people have me on their blog roll who aren't on
mine. What does it mean? Some times it's just about
the amount of time that any of us can spend reading.
Sometimes it's about naming our tribe. <a href="http://www.amptoons.com/blog/">Amp</a>
has a completely overwhelming blogroll. But he does
this very cool thing. He regularly posts a <a href="http://www.amptoons.com/blog/001050.html">list
of things he's been reading</a>. Of course, I might
use Amp as an example of all things good about blogging.
<a href="http://easybakecoven.net/">Susan </a>does something
similar. <a href="http://elayneriggs.blogspot.com/">Elayne</a>
does. <a href="http://www.allaboutgeorge.com/">George</a>
does. (Although why I'm not on George's blog roll I
can't figure.)</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
don't. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">If
I'm liking someone in my post I'm usually calling out
something they said, or did, or linked to. In part that's
about the constantly shifting purpose of my blog. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Cleis
goes on to talk about unwitting marginalization. And
that was what I was trying to talk about.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
think there's a fair amount of who gets linked that
is just about interest. People find something that you
are saying interesting. They link it. There is a big
conversation happening on the web. When it comes to
things I'm not all that interested in, I don't link.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">But
there are things to be contemplated. I don't participate
in things like <a href="http://www.technorati.com/">Technorati,</a>
or the <a href="http://www.truthlaidbear.com/ecosystem.php">Ecosystem</a>,
or Blogshares, when it was happening, because I can't
handle the emotions. I can't handle the competition,
the feeling of not being good enough. Maybe that's about
maturity. And maybe that's about resisting the way hierarchy
overlays so much of what we see and read and think about.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">My
post suffered from oblique reference. I was talking
about two things at once. Sexism in the blog world is
often subtle. And the blog world is big. There are many
different reasons for writing on line. When I get too
whacked out trying to parse the meaning I try to remember
my <a href="http://www.blogtree.com/blogtree.php?blogid=4348">blog
parents.</a> Both are still writing on line. Neither
seems to pay much attention to metablogging. I followed
their lead when I started. I wasn't sure what I was
doing. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I'm
still not.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(765)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_765"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 12:54
PM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e465" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e465"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e465"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
3</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Matt
kicked rhetorical butt last night in <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2003/12/03/DEBATE.TMP">the
debate</a>. Of course it wasn't hard. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I'm
still feeling bad. Still not sure what to do. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(766)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_766"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 9:48
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e466" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e466"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e466"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
3</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">As
it turns out I have <a href="http://www.lung.ca/diseases/pleurisy.html">pleurisy</a>.
Isn't that the weirdest thing? </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">My
doctor is as sweet as I remember her to be. It cost
so much money. Makes me want to cry. But I have pills.
Big pills. I should be feeling better soon but it might
take a month before it goes away. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">A
month. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">So
strange. And it hurts. But not that bad.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Doesn't
it seem like I should be laying on a fainting couch
reading Mary Shelly? </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(767)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_767"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 9:59
PM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e467" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e467"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e467"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
4</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">DOH!
I never get the lay/lie thing right. Cheryl (best editor
in the world) tries and tries to explain it to me and
it's in one ear and out the other. And my copy of Strunk
& White just sits on the shelf. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">But
really. Doesn't pleurisy seem like something people
got at the turn of the century? The truth is I
can't lie anywhere for long. That's the big problem.
In the day I feel OK. Some movement hurts. Sometimes
taking a breath hurts. But I'm OK. It's when I<b> lie</b>
down in bed that things get bad. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
can lie on my stomach for a while but not too long.
I cannot lie on my side. I can lie on my back if I'm
propped up on pillows. But for the last three nights
I've had to get out of bed because it hurt too bad and
sleep in my chair. I love my chair. But it isn't a good
sleeping chair. I tried to use enough pillows to sit
up straight in bed. It just didn't work. Being in my
chair wasn't even working last night. At one point I
was staring at the ceiling in my living room trying
to decide if it was a perfect square. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">So
I'm dingy from lack of sleep and pain. But it really
isn't that bad. I'm taking my pills. I'm taking it easy.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
read a few blogs today. It turns out my metablogging
was a few days early. There is some discussion on the
web about the <a href="http://wizbangblog.com/archives/cat_2003_weblog_award_nominees.php">Wizbang
weblog awards.</a> I nominate Lauren for <a href="http://www.feministe.us/blog/archives/000485.html">the
coolest response to her nomination.</a> I haven't read
them all. There were so many blogs I didn't know and
the ones I did know seemed to be on the conservative
side. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Not
that there's anything wrong with that. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Heh.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
want to go off on a nice long rant about hierarchy and
marginalization and what does it mean to be a feminine
writer but I fear my lungs aren't up it. And when I
say that I really want you to picture me with one hand
to my forehead and the other clutching my chest. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Maybe
I should be more worried about having pleurisy. But
it just seems too kooky. I need to not make jokes because
it hurts when I laugh. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(768)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_768"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 12:24
PM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e468" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e468"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e468"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
5</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It's
raining and cold in SF. The perfect weather
for pleurisy. I've entered into some Dickinsonian
dream state.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I've
been planning to bake some cookies. I haven't
done anything for the holidays for years.
School sucked everything out of me. But
Mom & Ken will be here. The guy who
cuts my hair, having received some cookies
from me once, always asks if I'm going
to bake. So...</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Yesterday
I made dough for some cookies and baked
oatmeal, date, walnut cookies. It's hard
for me to move around for too long because
my chest starts to hurt. But my chest hurts
when I
stay still as well. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;"><a href="http://www.redpolka.org/">April</a>
posted <a href="http://www.wehavebrains.com/archives/001320.html">a
question at WHB</a> about holidays and politics.
She also had interesting things to say about
<a href="http://www.redpolka.org/blog/archives/001319.html">Buy
Nothing Day and diet mentality</a>. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">There
was a commercial for Walmart in which a
man and a woman were shopping, buying plastic
storage tubs and new pillow cases and whatever.
At the end of the commercial they look at
each other fondly and one says something
about having a productive day. Every time
I saw it I shouted, "NO! YOU'VE HAD
A CONSUMPTIVE DAY!"</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It
doesn't really bother me that people buy
stuff for their home and feel happy. I do
that. What I like about Buy Nothing Day
is that it calls out the frantic cha-ching
of the holiday season. But I take April's
point. There is a way in which this time
of year is about bacchanalia and should
be. It should be about pleasure and bounty
and all that. There's a great convergence
of more than one holiday and it's a big
party before the long dark winter night.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">But
if you can't keep up, financially, emotionally,
it can just suck. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">So
my politics are a comfort to me. My politics,
my general world view, makes it possible
for me to opt out. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">The
neighbors down the hall moved out a while
ago and the apartment is being painted and
fixed up. The handy man asked me to check
on something the other day so I got to walk
around in it. It's great. Beautiful view. All
new and shiny. I've been imagining my furniture
in every
room. It's way too expensive and my life
is way too uncertain to move. But I have been entertaining
myself with thoughts about how I'd arrange
every room. And I would feel happy for a
while, having more space and new stuff.
And I need some fun. Some sense of things
beginning. So I day dream. And then I wake
up and I'm in my already pretty cool apartment.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It
is raining and my lungs hurt and I'm worried
about the parent visit. I still need a job
and an agent and ...</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Sigh.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I've
been operating outside of the holly-daze
for a few years now. It just wasn't what
my life was about. If I had money I'd buy
stuff for people. But I don't. And in a
way my politics are a comfort to me. Because
I do think Americans have consumption and
production mixed up. And I think we take
both too far. And I think this time of year becomes
a hetero nuclear family Judeo Christian Hallmark frenzy.
It's too hopped up. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Diet
mentality is about fear of pleasure. It's the thought
that pleasure will have a negative impact on who we
are. And maybe sometimes pleasure does have a negative
impact on who we are. So? We can recover from most excess.
I think moderation and balance is a good daily practice
and excess is a release. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">My
politics are (hopefully) about inclusion and understanding
that life is full of surprises and possibilities. This
year I'm baking some cookies. I have the time. I almost
have the energy. I'm pretty good at it. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Honestly.
I don't know if any of these last week of posts makes
any sense. My thoughts are just all over the place.
I did get some sleep last night. When I first got into
bed it felt like there was a ton of bricks on my chest.
I put my pillows in a pile and managed to sit almost
straight up and the pain dialed down. I woke up a few
times because I was uncomfortable and I was still having
jabs of pain but I got more sleep than I've had in a
few days.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">There's
something about the dreariness of the weather and the
ache in my chest and the pondering of the meaning of
the season. I'm woozy. And loopy. Someone pass me my
<a href="http://www.nycgoth.com/more/laudanum/">laudanum</a>
and guide me back to the pillow pile. Pat me on the
head and say, "There there dear, do try and sleep
some more." </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(769)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_769"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 9:22
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"> <a id="e469" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e469"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e469"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
6</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Sometimes
you think a thing is gonna
be OK and then you get into
it and you know it's not but
you're already committed. Like,
I
had an appointment to get my
hair cut yesterday. My hair guy is only
a block away so I figured I
could go. The minute I walked
out the door I felt like I had
a fever. I didn't have a fever
at the docs office the other
day. I guess it might
have been a hot flash.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Getting
the hair cut was OK but by the
time I got home I felt pretty
bad. I guess I need to take
pleurisy more seriously. I've
just been having too much fun
making jokes and thinking that
because I'd seen a doctor I
was all better. She did say
it was going to take a while.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
tried to take a nap but I couldn't
get to sleep so I watched <a href="http://www.netflix.com/MovieDisplay?trkid=3257&movieid=60023637">The
Four
Feathers.</a> I couldn't stand
sitting in the chair any more
so I moved to the computer and
started fooling around with
the site design. As you can
see. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
don't know when I stopped feeling
flushed and achy. I was in a
daze. Have I been saying I'm
in daze for awhile now?
Well. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I think I was afraid
to go to bed. Despite the fact
that I felt so tired. It's just so weird because I don't
feel that bad as long as I'm sitting up and not moving
around too much. So I convince myself that it's not
that bad. When I finally went to bed I didn't even try
to lie down. I sat, propped against the pillows. At
about five I woke up and decided to roll onto my stomach.
Which turned out to be the second bad idea. After about
twenty minutes of misery I ended up in my chair. When
it hurts, it really, really hurts.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">My
hair looks good. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(770)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_770"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 10:58
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e470" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e470"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e470"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
7</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I'm
changing the name of the blog to the woe is me blog.
Or is that woe is I? </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Night
time is a trial. The day is really not terrible. I'm
tired. I get pains. But no big deal. It's the night.
I can't lie down. I can't get comfortable. And the more
I try the more pain I feel. Last night, at three-thirty
eight, I was standing at the side of my bed. I'd already
been in the bed and then to the chair and now I was
back at the bed. And I just didn't want to get into
it. But I did. At eight I moved back to the chair. I
am not getting deep rest. And it is making me cranky.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">In
the middle of the night I was reading <a href="http://www.mcsweeneys.net/subscribe/issue1.html">an
old McSweeney's</a> because it was on the shelf next
to me. I finished <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/articles/2003/06/13/1055220759554.html">The
Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night.</a> I'm gonna
write about it. I never do that in my <a href="http://www.allconsuming.net/">All
Consuming</a> lists. I keep thinking I need to that.
Maybe later. After I take a shower. It's the middle
of the day and I'm still in my pjs. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Mom
said
something interesting about
pleurisy. I was commenting
on how odd it seemed and that
I'd never known anyone who'd had
it. And she talked about being
from <a href="http://www.wqed.org/erc/pghist/logs/downtown.shtml#DT03">Pittsburgh</a>.
She said people from Pittsburgh
often had problems. Things in
the city were being cleaned up
when I was young. It is true
that my grandmother had emphysema
and my uncle had lung problems.
Mom spent more time in Pittsburgh
than I did and she has a funny little cough. But she's
never had big lung problems. I dunno.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It's
also been interesting because
now I seem to know so many people
who either had, or have, or
know someone who had it. It's
always like that, isn't it?</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">The
Internet is just too much fun.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;"><a href="http://www.sapphosbreathing.com/">Cleis</a>
Linked <a href="http://www.mrpicassohead.com/">Mr.
Picasso Head</a>. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;"><a href="http://akma.disseminary.org/">AKMA</a>
linked this <a href="http://ww12.e-tractions.com/snowglobe/globe.htm">Snow
globe</a>.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;"><a href="http://leslie.harpold.com/">Leslie
Harpold</a> has her <a href="http://harpold.com/advent/">advent
calendar</a> up.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;"><a href="http://www.randomwalks.com/drublood/">Dru</a>
and <a href="http://uppity-negro.com/">Aaron</a>
blogged this <a href="http://www.facade.com/content/">cool
tarot</a> site. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Countless
hours of fun.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Rene
<a href="http://www.luxomatic.com/blog/index.html">is
blogging up a storm</a> about
Matt. I'm missing the action.
But I wont miss my time in the
polling booth. I had another
dream about Matt. He walked
into a bar and ordered a beer
and then poured some darker
beer into it. I can imagine
him doing that. I want him to
be the mayor. So much. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Sigh.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">So.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Yeah.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Sleep.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Woe
is <strike>me</strike> I. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(771)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_771"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 12:45
PM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e471" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e471"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e471"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
7</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">David
Weir wrote <a href="http://www.fatshadow.com/Hallinan.htm">an
article</a> about slumlord support for <a href="http://www.kamalaharris.org/">Kamala
Harris</a>. I haven't mentioned my support for <a href="http://sfgov.org/site/da_index.asp">Terrance
Hallinan</a>. I've been focused on <a href="http://www.mattgonzalez.com/">Matt</a>.
But I will be voting for Terrance. If you live in SF
please <a href="http://www.fatshadow.com/Hallinan.htm">read
this</a> and link to it. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(772)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_772"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 7:52
PM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e472" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e472"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e472"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
8</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
did watch a bit of Average Joe
after <a href="http://www.bigfatblog.com/archives/001095.php">Paul
blogged it</a>. My antipathy
for reality shows (except the
<a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/show_jk/0,1976,FOOD_14520,00.html">ones
in which cooking</a>
is involved) remains in tact.
I knew there was going to be
a fat suit on the show and frankly,
I wasn't in the mood. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Of
all the reality shows the ones
in which a group of folks vie
for the (cough) love of a man
or a woman are the most offensive
to me. Maybe it isn't about offensive.
Maybe it's about fear. I can't
really bear the idea that love
is about beauty and money and
a few dates on national television.
And there's always a deceit
involved, isn't there? All the
people think their love interest
is a millionaire and they aren't.
The girl pretends to be her
fat cousin. Is love about surviving
deceit? </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Frankly
if someone wore a fat suit to
find out how I felt about fat
people I wouldn't be feeling
love. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Why
is it that these shows can't
use real fat people? Would it
have been too real if they watched
the men react to me? I guess
the idea was that this was the
same woman - inside. Thin. And fat. Why
should her appearance change
their feelings for her? </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Well.
Because their feelings for her
are developing in about six
weeks. They don't have time
to know her in any deep way.
And there's a camera. The whole
thing is about appearance. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">There
was a section of the show in
which she is walking along in
her fat suit and she asks a
few men where the nearest movie
theater is and is shocked when
she is ignored. Apparently when
she is thin she has no problem
getting directions. So we learn
that fat people aren't even
afforded courtesy on the streets.
Gee. Who woulda thought? </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
didn't watch the whole show.
Really. I do not have the strength
to fend off the horror I feel
knowing that this is called
reality. I see the guy
that they are saying is average
and I just don't get it. I don't
really know what average means.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">But
I thought I might want to write
about it. So I kept the sound
off and watched for the parts
in which she wore the suit.
I may have missed a few of them.
I resent the use of fat suits.
People in fat suits aren't fat
people. They don't live in those
bodies. I bet I could get directions
to a movie theater. I would
know who to ask. There certainly
are people who have been rude
to me on the streets. But I
also know how to navigate all
that silliness. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">One
of the things you learn when
you aren't someone who people
react to because you look beautiful
by some social construct is
that people actually enjoy being
treated as if they matter. Approaching
people to ask for information
with an open heart sometimes
works. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">The
idea that being fat isn't part
of who I am is what bugs me.
Fat suits are a lie. Love isn't
served by a lie. Love isn't
served by competition and rose
ceremonies. And we aren't served
by these ideas. But it isn't
as simple as if you love what's
inside a person you don't care
what's outside. the inside and
outside are connected. Love
is a process. The inside and
the outside both change with
time. Love is the thread that
holds it all together. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Or.
Maybe that's just what I hope is true.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
don't know why I didn't write
about the show the next day.
Maybe I was on my way to becoming
pleurisy girl and I just didn't
have the energy. I don't know
why I'm feeling the energy now.
Maybe it's because I'm spending
so much time staring at the
ceiling in the middle of the
night. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">There's
a place in town where homeless men are given chairs
in which to sleep. Suzanne told me that they all end
up with problems in their legs. I'm getting about half
of the sleep I do get in a chair. This morning when
I woke up I noticed that my calves were really swollen.
I did manage to sleep on my stomach and on my side for
a little while last night, which I thought was a good
sign. I started off sitting up in bed and then rolled
over, sat back up for a while and then rolled to my
side. By six I was in enough pain that went to the chair.
I guess a pain killer might not be a bad idea. I'm trying
to wait a week to see if the meds she gave me work.
But I'm staggering. And I'm awake in the middle of the
night thinking about love and fat suits and bad TV.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(773)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_773"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 9:07
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e473" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e473"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e473"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
9</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Vote
early and often. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
wish I could vote more than
once. It's gonna feel so good
to vote today. <a href="http://www.mattgonzalez.com/">Matt
for Mayor.</a> </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
felt pretty good voting for
Clinton. Completely betrayed
by the time he left office.
More so <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/news/archive/2003/12/08/state1847EST0121.DTL">yesterday</a>.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;"><a href="http://www.hallinanforda.com/">And
Hallinan
for DA.</a>.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I'm
holding onto my membership in
the Democratic party long enough
to vote for <a href="http://www.denniskucinich.us/">Dennis</a>
and then I'm going Green. I've
voted Green in the last two
elections. I'm voting Green
today. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">But
the truth is today has never
been about party politics, for
me. It's about the issues and
the men.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">And
Matt is the one.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">My
polling place is right across the street. So I should
be able to get there. And I actually got a fairly good
night of sleep. Maybe I'm healing. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Why
does my computer sound like it's working so hard? It's
making very weird noises. That cannot be good. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(774)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_774"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 8:55
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e474" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e474"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e474"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
9</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">The
<a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/usa/story/0,12271,1102950,00.html">Guardian
article</a> is interesting. I didn't know Matt had been
called the Socialist stud. The "scruffy, combative"
Socialist stud. That kind of stuff drive me crazy.
But the mayoral election has been shadowed by notions
of virility from the beginning. Now we have the battle
of the cute boys. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">What
ever.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I'm
trying to ignore all that. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
love that Matt's supporters are always characterized
as young. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Heh. Somebody
check my ID.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
guess from the outside this looks like the left eating
the left. But I think it reflects exactly how much the
Democratic party has drifted from some core values.
We really need a third party. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Listening
to <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/uselections2004/story/0,13918,1103322,00.html">Gore
say that Dean</a> is the only candidate who has been
able to inspire a grass roots movement pissed me off.
Almost as much as listening to him <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/news/archive/2003/12/09/national0504EST0490.DTL">(and
Clinton) endorse Newsom.</a> If either of them had looked
at the sloppy, inhumane care not cash bullshit and the
redundant panhandling measure that Newsome sold with
money and hype, if they had checked out Matt's work
with <a href="http://www.ci.sf.ca.us/site/lafco_index.asp">LAFCO</a>,
just so many things...</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Well.
Actually. As I write this I'm thinking about NAFTA and
GATT and all the other lovely ways Clinton betrayed
us and I realize there's no where to go with my point.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Gore
can ignore <a href="http://www.denniskucinich.us/">Dennis</a>.
The Dems can continue to walk in the middle of the road.
But what's happening in SF is happening all over the
country. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
want to get Bush out of office. I would not vote Green
just for the sake of voting Green. But I don't like
Dean. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">My
thoughts are all over the place. My lungs hurt. Earlier I was listening
to Matt preside over a meeting of the board. Marveling
that he could sit there and do that on a day when so
much is about to change. One way. Or the other.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(775)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_775"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 4:45
PM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e475" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e475"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e475"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
9</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Eight
oclock and it does not look good. Early absentees put
Newson and Harris ahead. I've been clicking back and
forth on channels and reloading the <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/election/races/2003/12/09/">SF
Gate page.</a> Every time I reload the margin narrows.
And narrows. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Finally
the television starts some reporting. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I'm
trying to be calm. But I can't be. It's so close. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It's
clear early on that Terrance won't win. Which makes
me very sad. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">At
9:15 KPIX calls it for Gavin.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">This
sucks.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(776)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_776"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 9:17
PM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:9pt;">But what is this urge not only to write, but to publish one's work?
Besides the pleasure of being praised, there is the thought of communicating
with other souls capable of understanding one's own, and thus of one's work
becoming a meeting place for the souls of men. </span></font><FONT face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:9pt;">- Eugene
Delacroix</span></FONT><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:9pt;"> </span></font></p>
<p align="justify" style="line-height:100%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;"><span style="font-family:'Times New Roman'; font-size:8pt;
mso-fareast-font-family:" Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:
EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"><font face="Lucida Sans">Via <a href="http://whiskeyriver.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_whiskeyriver_archive.html#106969817552604886">Whiskey
River</a></font></span></p>
<p align="justify" style="line-height:100%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;"> </p>
<p align="justify"><a id="e476" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e476"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e476"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
10</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Right
after Arnold was elected a friend
of mine said he wondered when
he had become the kind of person
who cared about who was in the
state house. And it made me
laugh. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">For
the entire time Reagan was in
office I ignored constitutional
politics. I went to India to
sit at the feet of my guru.
I came back and put together
a rock-n-roll band, did cocaine
and believed in the night. I
just didn't pay attention to
politics. It had nothing to do with my life. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It's
hard to pay attention when things
are so weird. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">This
was a close election. Matt is
still the president of the board.
He has great support. Newsom
out spent him 10 to 1 to get the narrow win that
he got. It's not
all bad news. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">But
it feels bad. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Matt
gave a <a href="http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2003/12/10/MNGQV3IVMC1.DTL">very dignified concession
speech</a>. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I'm
not sure how to do political
work. My heart is too easily
fractured. I can hardly bear
the way language is used to
twist perception. And when did
I become the kind of person
who cares?</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
don't know when. But I do. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">So.
My lungs are achy and raw but
I think I am getting better.
I slept again last night. Not
entirely pain free but I did sleep. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I have baked three kinds of
biscotti and three kinds of
cookies. I have two more doughs
in the fridge. I'm trying to
get all the baking done before
Mom gets here. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Life.
Goes on. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(777)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_777"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 8:55
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e477" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e477"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e477"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
11</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">For
a few days in a row I was eating
scrambled eggs in the morning
and chicken noodle soup in the
afternoon. I'd eat a tangerine
at some point in the day. I just didn't
have an appetite. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Until
yesterday. Yesterday I ate a
farmer breakfast. Eggs, bacon,
toast, tangerine, tea, and a
biscotti. When I was done eating
I wanted to make the whole meal
and eat it all over again. I
think that's a good sign. But
this morning I don't feel like eating again. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Normally
I go to bed around midnight
and wake up around seven. Now
that I can sleep I've been having
trouble waking up before 9:00.
Last night I was so deeply asleep
that when I woke up because my chest was hurting I couldn't
remember why. I turned over, went back to sleep and
woke up at 8:00.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I'm not worried about these
things but I do feel out of
sync. And not too interesting.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
spent most of yesterday on the phone. Days and weeks
will go be and I don't hear from anyone and then everyone
calls on the same day. It was fun actually. And I still
got two batches of cookies made. There are tins full
of cookies piled in the kitchen. AND I'M STILL BAKING!!
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Really
I don't feel very interesting. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
moved the Bloggers for Matt
button down to the left and
the vote for Matt button to
the <a href="http://www.fatshadow.com/rdoor.htm">refrigerator door.</a>
I have to turn the news off when they start talking
about Newsom. Not a very Democratic thing to do but
hey...I'm sad. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Still
haven't written that book review. Oh well. Maybe I'll
do laundry. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Sigh.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(778)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_778"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 8:32
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e478" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e478"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e478"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
12</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Today
is stay at home Friday. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">The
<a href="http://www.mapa.org/">Mexican
American Political Association</a>
is calling for <a href="http://www.mapa.org/News_Releases/economic_strike.htm">a
general strike </a>to express
<a href="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/news/archive/2003/12/11/state1329EST0079.DTL">outrage
over SB60</a>. I am so excited
about this. If they were really
able to get even half of the
people from Mexico, Central
and South America working in
the state of California to stay
home the state would shut down.
At the very least there would
be a bad Friday night for restaurants.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It
will be hard for them to get
folks to stay home. They won't
want to risk their jobs, they
need every penny they make and,
if they are undocumented, they
will fear exposure. It would
have been great if they had
been able to build coalitions
with other immigrant populations.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">If
I had a job I would stay home
in solidarity. I won't go out
to eat but I probably wouldn't
have anyway. I hope it is HUGE
!!! I think they should do it
every Friday.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Deb
took me to <a href="http://www.wholefoods.com/">Hell
Foods</a> because I wanted to
get some already-made-for-me
food. Mom will be here on Monday
and we'll eat out while she's
here. They can't stay with me
because Ken can't get up the
stairs. Actually up might not
be as much of a problem as down.
He has no balance. I doubt they'll
come over. Mom might come. I'm
not sure yet. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Anyway
I wanted to get enough food
to get me to Monday and I'm
trying to do lots of baking
and then I'm not in the mood
for cooking. My appetite is
still whacky. I knew it would be best
if I just had a few things that
were not a hassle. So I got
risotto cakes and roast beef
and Mediterranean tuna. I have
arugula and some beets and green
beans,which I will roast (the
beets) and blanch (the beans) today. I got some red
beans so that I can make soup with some kale that has
gone rather limp in my vegetable bin. And I also got some scallops
and shrimp because Marilyn is
coming over for dinner on Sunday.
I guess I will be doing some cooking. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">So
I'm hooked up. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">But
the shopping trip wore me out.
I had to head back to my fainting
couch and call for tea. Which
is hard since I have no fainting
couch and no matter how loudly
I call for tea no one responds.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Heh.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It's
weird because I don't have trouble
getting a breath but I can tell
that my lungs are working harder.
It's not as painful as it's
been. It's just a drag. I am
better every day. I just hope I can keep up with my
77 year old mother.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Deb
brought me a copy of The <a href="http://www.sfstation.com/restaurants/greens/">Greens</a>
<a href="http://www.fortmason.org/spotlights/2003/0503/0503-spot1.html">cookbook</a>
in which there are recipes for her desserts. I don't
think she gets near enough credit in it. She did a taste
test on my cookies. She says they're good. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
did not get the laundry done. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(779)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_779"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 9:05
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e479" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e479"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e479"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
13</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Last
night I curled up on my side. Seems like a small thing
but I haven't been able to do it with pleurisy. After
awhile I became uncomfortable and had to turn over but
it really felt so good for the time I was able to be
curled up in an embryonic ball. This morning my chest
is really sore so I may have pushed it. And yesterday
I did laundry, which meant going up and down the steps
and I did more baking. So I may have pushed it all day.
But I was so happy when I was curled up.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
guess I mostly sleep on my stomach. It's one of those
things you don't think much about until you can't do
it. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">The
boycott <a href="http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/c/a/2003/12/13/MNGDL3MPQK1.DTL">was
small</a> but it did get some press. It's one thing
to talk about what should be true about labor laws and
practices. The drivers license may have been a
non issue and maybe it should be again. It certainly
isn't the biggest issue. It is about dignity. And the
truth is that the whole country is driven by a lot of
undocumented labor. And that's about greed because businesses
don't want to pay well. It's also about how <a href="http://www.pbs.org/pov/pov2002/senoritaextraviada/maquiladoras_feature03.html">economic
policies and realities aren't well met</a>.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">One
time I was standing in a restaurant listening to a guy
who was putting stainless steel up on the walls. White
guy. Working class. Hard working. It was his own very
tiny stainless steel business. I liked the guy. But
that day he was ranting about people who came to this
country and took all the jobs. He was ranting to the
handy man and I. The handy man was from Nicaragua. He
was married to an American woman so he was here legally.
The ranting guy looked at us and realized we weren't
sharing his outrage. He tried to make a distinction
between the hard working people and the lazy people
but we were already backing away from the conversation.
That restaurant was filled with people from Mexico and
Central and South America. Hierarchy was established
by who had legal papers and who had fake ones, who spoke
the best English and who had the most skills. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
worked with one man who had dubious papers and not a
lot of English but was smart, hard working and factitious.
Eventually he became a manager in the kitchen. I had
so much respect for this guy. And he wasn't the only
one. There was one guy who had no English, washed dishes
for 5.50 an hour, always smiled and did anything he
was asked to do, was never late, never called in sick.
No hope of advancement. Just day after day of brutal
dirty work and money orders sent back to Mexico. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Not
many of the people I worked with were so in love with
this country that they left their homes to be here.
Many of them longed to go home. They spent heartbreaking
amounts of money on phone bills. Combine that with the
money they were sending home. They lived six or seven
people in studios apartments. They often worked more
than one job. They worked so hard. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Every
time I hear a story about immigration issues I imagine
all the people who are here stopping their work and
walking South. Every one of them. It would be so dramatic.
And the Latino population is only one part of the story.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">But
my friend from Australia with the blond hair and the
blue eyes and lapsed work permit never seemed as worried
about things and my friends with black hair and brown
eyes and brown skins were. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Most
of California used to be Mexico. And my attitude is
that, unless you have some American Indian blood you're
an immigrant. I am. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">These
are really complicated issues. But I was thrilled to
see the photos of lines of people marching yesterday.
Someone in the news characterized them as the sleeping
giant and that's what they are. But they were awake
yesterday. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">On
the news there was a bit of film of the manager of <a href="http://www.gordonbiersch.com/">Gordon
Biersch</a> saying that he had waiters chopping vegetables
and he was cooking. A woman on the patio said she thought
that people should be able to get their license but
she didn't like the boycott. She said life shouldn't
stop. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Life.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">That
would be the life where she sits on a patio drinking
beer and eating garlic fries, waiters take home a
living wage in tips, management takes home big checks
and over arching corporate guys take home the biggest
checks of all while some guy makes 5.50 an hour, half
of which he sends back to a home he longs to see again.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(780)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_780"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 9:53
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e480" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e480"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e480"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
14</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">So
Mom and I are on the phone.
Because we talk on Saturday
night. And because she's going
to be here tomorrow. She's
talking about how all her friends
are so happy she's coming out
to visit and how they all say
hi and how impressed with me
they were last year. And
she says that she tells them
about how I'm having a hard
time finding a job and I have
two strikes against me because
I'm 50 and because I'm ...big.
One of her friends tells her
that when she first saw me she
was shocked by how ... big ...
I was but that within a few
minutes of talking with me it
was clear that there was "something
there." </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Mom
goes on. She says something
like when a person first sees
me they're like ... and she
made some noise of disgust ...
but then they talk to me and
people usually like me. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Yeah.
That's me. Likeable. And it's
a good thing. Since I'm ...
big. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
just ...</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">sigh.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
have a little place in which
I store that kind of stuff.
It's this place that looks like
a post office. I sit there busily
sorting through all the emotions
and thoughts and compartmentalizing
like crazy. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">She's
77. She loves me. She thinks
I'd be happier if I was thin.
She's been on a diet most of
her life. I'm not around her
that often. She's only gonna
be here two weeks. People who
don't know me think I'm disgusting.
No they don't. Yes they do.
No they don't. I don't care.
Yes I do. No I don't. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Sigh.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">The
thing is, she's right. People who don't know you (me)
make assumptions based on appearance. And age and weight
are things for which I will be (am) judged. I just wish
she had some outrage about it. For me. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(781)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_781"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 8:41
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e481" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e481"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e481"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
15</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><a id="e481"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">
Wow. I really really really appreciate
all the support. There's a lot
to parse in all the comments.
But really. So much great stuff. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
realize that I have some new
readers and it's been a while
since I wrote thoughts about
being fat. So. To be clear.
I think there is
more than one fat gene. I think
there is more than one kind
of fat body.
I think there are people who
can stop eating desert and take
walks and they will begin to
lose weight. There are people
who will need to work-out with
a degree of athleticism
and become hyper-vigilant about
food and still struggle to maintain
what would be considered average
weight. And there are degrees
in between. I think it's possible
to be fit and fat and healthy
at any size. I think some
fat people have issues with
compulsive overeating (and they
have my concern) but I don't
think all fat people eat so
much. I think the eat less/exercise
more equation is simplistic
and misunderstood. Food issues
and the need for movement are
things to talk about. Being
fat begins with genetics and
there are many things, like
stress, that cause how fat any
one person becomes. I don't
think fat people are ugly and
I do think there is weight based
discrimination. If someone thinks
I'm ugly that may be about preference
and it may be about not looking
at me with an open heart. But
that's not a hill I'm going
to die on. If someone doesn't
hire me for a job I am able
to do because of my weight,
we're gonna rumble. I'm pretty
anchored in my feelings about
being fat. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I'm
not at all anchored when it
comes to my mother.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
want people to think about why
they think the way they do about
fatness. And I do want to allow
for process. But ... I'm also
tired of the ramp up of fat
hatred. So I wrote a book and
I write on line and I talk to
people and then my mother talks
about how people, and how
she, thinks about my weight in
such a mean spirited manner.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I'm
not anchored at all when it
comes to my mother. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Lynn
came over and gave me some <a href="http://www.compassionatedragon.com/acupuncture.html">needles</a>
and <a href="http://www.compassionatedragon.com/cupping.html">cups</a>
to speed up the pleurisy healing.
I'm pretty much better. The
only time I feel it is when I first wake up or if I
go out and am really active. Lynn's care always cures.
I'll be all better soon.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Marilyn came over for dinner.
I made scallops with <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/recipes/recipe/0,1977,FOOD_9936_16229,00.html">lemon
buerre blanc</a>, green beans
and roasted fingerlings. We
drank wine. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">The
big cookie bake is pretty much
done. Lynn, Leslie, K2 and
Marilyn all got their boxes.
Suzanne is coming today for
hers. I have
one for Alexandra and one for
Mom and Ken. I'm not sure how
I'm going to get the rest distributed.
I want to get some dough made
before I leave for the airport
because Renee will be home in
a week and I want her to have
fresh baked ones. It'll be easier
to do if the dough is already made. But once Mom and
Ken get here it'll be their
world. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Graduation
is Friday. Christmas is ten
days away. It will all go by
in a blur. And I will still
blog. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I've
done a ton of work on my relationship
with my Mom. I expect to do
more. I've never known a time
when she wasn't dieting or bingeing. She eats healthy
food. She doesn't like fast food or junk very much.
She swims and goes for walks. She's on no meds, unlike
many of the people in her retirement village. But at
77 she is still occasionally does Weight Watchers.
Her mother was fat. And her mother was active and fierce
and never on a diet. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Once
in a conversation about my weight Mom said two
things that made my brain hurt. She said don't blame
your genetics. And. I've been fighting this all my life.
Uh huh. I don't blame my genetics. I just know that
my genetics mean I will always be some what fat. My
body changes all the time. It has changed with age.
The way I eat changes. How much I move changes.
And that will always be true. But I'm not interested
in making changes for a goal of weight loss. But I'm
always trying to be more conscious in my body.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Mom
won't talk about my weight every day. Believe me. I
won't allow that. I love her and I want to spend time
with her but I don't really allow people to say mean
things to me on a regular basis. She knows that. And
we will have some nice times. But it has never been
a peaceful relationship. Love is never the issue.
It's all the loopy ways we express
love. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It
was deeply encouraging to read
comments yesterday. It gave
me strength. I appreciate all
the shared ire. I appreciate all the kind words.
I appreciate the candor. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Thank you. Very
much. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(782)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_782"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 7:58
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify"><p align="justify"><a id="e482" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e482"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e482"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
17</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><a id="e481"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">
On Monday we gathered Mom and Ken from the
airport and got them to the
hotel. It was all pretty frenetic
and convivial because we do
love each other and we are glad
to see each other. Mom has this joke that
she is making to pretty much everyone
she meets about how all her
friends told her that she would
gain weight in SF but she can't.
But things are convivial. And
frenetic. So I make a ... joke
... about maybe we can have
one day where we don't use the
words weight, loss or calorie.
And we laugh. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Since it
was
late we decided to eat in the
hotel. She
begins to tell Ken the story
about the friend who had a negative
response to my size but ...
you know. And something in me
pops. I say if I have to listen
to this story again you'll be
spending two weeks in SF without
me. She doesn't get my upset
because she thinks it's such
a great story about how someone
liked me the minute they heard
me speak despite the negative
first impression engendered
by my weight. And I try
to tell her why it's so mean
and we snap at each other a
bit and Ken, who really can't
hear very well, is looking at
us like he can tell something
is going wrong but he can't
tell exactly what. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">We
cool it. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
come home and feel like I'm
on some very bad LSD. Every
negative thought I've ever had,
or am likely to have, pounding
against my nerve endings. I'm
compartmentalizing like crazy.
I can't get to sleep for hours.
I can't stay asleep.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Tuesday
was better. Pretty much. I bring
them cookies and a tiny Christmas tree with a special
little frog ornament for my frog collecting mother.
We take a walk, her on two canes, him on a walker, me
wondering which one of them is gonna fall first, trying
to hold them both up with hyper-vigilance. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">When
I was walking home from the
hotel I thought about how much
of myself I feel like I need
to suppress around them. But
I think they suppress some of
themselves as well. Mom really
couldn't understand why that story upset me and she
files it under things about me that she doesn't understand.
It's a big file. Since we
had a bit of a row on the first
day we are all being sweet.
It's OK. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
think part of what I've
learned (am learning) from having
the parents I have is about
being with people who you love,
holding the difficult feelings,
maintaining your truth and allowing
for contradictory truths. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Sounds
pretty profound. I am failing
at most of that.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Failing
isn't the right word. I'm just trying to stay awake
and enjoy the time I have with them and also maintain
some kind of dignity. I think my relationship with them
shadows all my relationships, in a way. I don't really
like the term boundaries. We are all semi permeable
at best. I don't expect to not get hurt or be angry
in relationships. But how do you ... be ... in relationships
in which there are big files full of things we can't
talk about? </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I'm
not sure. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">The
comments on the last two posts have been so helpful
and reassuring. You give me hope.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(783)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_783"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 8:22
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e483" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e483"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e483"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
18</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><a id="e481"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">
And then there are moments when
it all just becomes loopy.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Mom
& Ken & I are walking
to get a coffee. Mom is out
in front on her canes. Ken is
pushing the wheel chair like
he would a walker. He likes
to get some exercise but I like
to have the chair for when he
gets too tired. A huge flock
of green <a href="http://www.pelicanmedia.org/InDepth/HistoryID1.html">parrots</a>
fly by. Ken and I are looking
at them and a woman walks up
to us to ask if they are, in
fact, parrots. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Yes.
They are.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">We
turn onto the walk in front
of the coffee place and the
woman comes back to ask where
else to look for parrots and
we chat about how they are so
beautiful isn't it cool that they're in the city and
suddenly, out of the clear blue
sky, she says she goes to over
eaters anonymous and would I
like to know where the meetings
are. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Ohmygawd.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Mom
& Ken are getting away from
me so I turn to the woman and
say something about a radical
notion of a size positive world
and race after them. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It's
not like stuff like that doesn't
happen to me when M & K
aren't around and they didn't
know it happened because they
were too far away and I think
even my mom might have thought it a rude thing for a
total stranger to say. (Although I wasn't going to test
that idea by telling her about it.) Normally
I would be pissed and maybe
write a little rant about how
people feel free to assume so much about a fat person. They
assume they know how we eat and they assume we hate
our bodies and they assume we will be willing to try
anything to lose weight. It's just so totally rude and
presumptuous and ... oh ... I am ranting.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">But really.
Just then. It made me laugh.
I mean ... whatthefuck! Is the
camera on? I'm about to graduate. I'm going to get an
MFA for which I wrote <a href="http://www.fatshadow.com/Avoirdupois.htm">a
book on my life as a fat woman.</a> A book that I hope
gives people a different view on life in a fat
body. And suddenly I'm in the land of the well intended
bully. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">We
had our coffee and walked to
the wharf for people watching
and bad food. Mom is really
happy because she's out and about. Ken is keeping up
and I think he's having an OK time. We were all tired
by 6:00. I went home.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">In
front of my door was a really
yellow big orchid from Craig
and Adrienne. So beautiful!</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Earlier
in the day I had been feeling so alone. I'm having a
hard time finding people to give us rides to things,
like the graduation. My friends are either busy, or
out of town, or they drive cars that are too high and
M & K won't be able to get in them. I get around
on a bus. I guess they could take the bus but it seems
too tenuous. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">But
I'm not alone. There are many wonderful people sending
me vibes. I took the orchid into the apartment and stared
at it for awhile. I think someone told me that being
around orchids makes people happy. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It
made me happy. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(784)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_784"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 8:31
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e484" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e484"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e484"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
19</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><a id="e481"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">
I decided to spend a few minutes
reading blogs and that's all the time I have. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Things
are OK. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(785)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_785"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 7:51
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e485" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e485"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e485"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
20</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Mom
was so excited about the graduation she didn't sleep
well. My mother never has trouble sleeping. It was kinda
cute.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">In
part she was worried that she wouldn't be able to get
a good seat. Seating was on a first come, first serve
basis. They were letting people with special needs (walkers
and canes) in through a side door. We got there way
early and they were kind enough to let us in. It was
raining pretty hard. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
got them settled in and went to the place I needed to
be. I sat for about forty minutes in the room with the
caps and gowns listening to graduates from the business
school talk about how the capture of Saddam was
impacting the stock market. Finally I wandered out into
the hall and found the poets. They were the first members
of my program to gather. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">We
marched across the yard, in our caps and gowns, in
the rain, into the church. It was all very grand. Flags
and music and people taking pictures. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">My
program went early so I got my diploma case (the
real thing comes later) from the president of the college
and sat in the pew with my friends while a bunch of
people got theirs. Families whooped and hollered. Some
people puffed with pride, some waved at the crowd. It
was sweet. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
do think ceremony and ritual are good things. And I
certainly feel like all those people should feel proud
of going to school and getting their degrees and I clapped
for them. I felt like I walking through someone else's
movie. And I kept asking myself why.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
guess I'm proud of the last six years. It seems like
I should be. I'm one of those stories of people who
go to school when they're older. Those stories always
make me cry. I definitely feel lucky. Maybe proud comes
later. After some existential delay that seems to be
an elemental part of my character.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">The
rain was making things crazy but we managed to get a
cab to <a href="http://www.mooses.com/">the restaurant</a>.
We had a very nice dinner and then got another cab back
to the hotel. I tucked them in and walked home. The
rain had calmed to drizzle.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
owe a few thank you notes for cards I got yesterday.
And thank you for the comments. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">There's
that saying, after enlightenment - the laundry. Mom
needs to do some laundry. So that's the big excitement
for the day. I'm not quite in my own experience right
now. I'm just trying to keep up. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(786)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_786"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 7:56
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e486" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e486"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e486"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
22</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">On
Saturday evening we were sitting
in a little restaurant where
they serve individual pizzas
made in a wood fired oven. For
some reason that really captured Mom's
interest. They also had a nice
antipasti with bowls of marinating
vegetables. We had just ordered
when <a href="http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2003/12/22/BLACKOUT.TMP">the
lights went out.</a> The restaurant
couldn't serve us so we headed
back to the hotel where, as
it turned out, there were no
lights. And no elevators. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">We
sat in the lobby for a while.
Finally I asked for help getting
them up the three flights of
steps to their room. Mom does
better than Ken. His left foot
turns out so far that he looks
like a ballet dancer who is
stuck in fifth position. And
he
is hunched over. Extremely unstable.
We got up the steps and into
the dark room. I left them with
a flash light and came home
to my own dark apartment. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Today
the power was still out but
Mom was set on getting down
the steps. I couldn't really
blame her but I wasn't looking forward to watching them
go down the steps. I got her down. We went backwards
and very slowly, stopping at each landing to let others
pass. And
then I got help getting Ken down
in the same manner. The guy carried the wheel chair
down and stayed with us.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">We
walked to a restaurant, where
there were lights, for breakfast
and then back to sit in the
dark lobby for the day. The
lights came back on at 5:00.
It was better that we went down the stairs. I think
a whole day in the room might have been bad for moral.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">But
I
am beat. Wiped. Frazzed. Whipped.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">The
laundry didn't get done the other day. It's in the drier
now. When it's done I'll take it to them and we'll see
what adventures await. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(787)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_787"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 8:07
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e487" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e487"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e487"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
23</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">And
then there was <a href="http://earthquake.usgs.gov/recenteqsUS/Quakes/nc40148755.htm">the
earthquake</a>.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
swear. I am NOT making this
stuff up. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
was sitting on the edge of the
bed in the hotel room. Mom was
putting away the laundry that
I had brought down. Ken was reading.
I felt the bed move in that
familiar way and I said, "
Guys. I think we're havin an
earthquake." </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">They
ignored me. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
decided to drop it because if
I was wrong I didn't want anyone
to be freaked. But in a few
minutes the news people on the
TV began to talk about it. We
are pretty far from the epicenter
but I did feel it. Whenever
I feel a quake I always want
someone to confirm it for me.
There I was with two people,
one a trained geologist, and
they didn't feel it. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">We
spent the day walking around
the wharf, looking at tourists
and sea lions and boats. I left them in their hotel
room with a football game to keep them happy. I came
home and ... I don't exactly remember what I did. I
have a vague memory of knowing that I needed to turn
off the TV and go to bed. It seems like it might have
taken a while to actually do that. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It's
an interesting time of year.
I have a stack of bills and
a stack of cards. Other than
the cookies I haven't done a
thing for Christmas. I'm just trying to keep
up with the folks. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">My
lungs are OK. I think. But I
am tired. Brain tired. Soul
tired. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">It's
raining. It's going to be raining for the next few days.
I'm a little bit worried about too much time in the
hotel. Mom is happiest when she's out walking. I think
we can get out today. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">We'll
see. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(788)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_788"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 8:54
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e488" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e488"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e488"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
24</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Mom
walks with two canes. Ken uses
a walker. Being with them, watching
them walk, is like watching
a baby who is just learning
to walk. I keep thinking they're
going to fall over at any moment.
I walk with my arms extended
as if to hold them up. I only
relax when they sit down. And
sometimes not then. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">People
zoom around us. Everyone is
trying to get it all done as
fast as possible. We're just
trying to get to the coffee
shop. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Mom
walks as if every step is an affirmation to ward off
immobility. Ken and I keep up with her trajectory. Yesterday,
because it was raining, I pushed Ken in the wheel chair.
He doesn't like that. He feels like it's too much work
for me. But we were all getting wet and that little
bit of speed kept us dry. When you care for kids you
look for development. You pull your hands away as you
see them getting stronger and more able. I feel like
I need to find a balance between helping and disabling.
And then there are things, like rain, that make the
choice for me. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">My
own mobility isn't what it used to be. My knees have
been aching from the rain. I come home at night and
slather myself with herbs. And the world is rushing
around me.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Whatever
holiday you may be celebrating, I hope it is a good
one. If you don't have one to celebrate, I hope it's
a really great Wednesday. And if Santa stops by your
house, I hope he brings good news. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(789)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_789"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 8:39
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e489" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e489"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e489"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
25</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;"> Ho
Ho Ho.</span></font></p>
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<td width="283">
<p><a href="http://www.carascissoria.com/"><img src="HoHoHo.jpg" width="320" height="438" border="0"></a></p>
</td>
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</table>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(790)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_790"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 7:55
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e490" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e490"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e490"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
27</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;"> I
don't really
hang out with people who talk
about diets or weight loss.
Most of my friends have strong
opinions about food and ideas
about what makes food good.
But the conversation doesn't
really go to weight loss. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">We
do talk about
things like how much sugar we're eating. Like
this time of year, or around
my birthday, there's sugar everywhere.
I get to the point where I really
can't bear the sight of it.
When I was in school there were
times when it seemed like everything
I ate came out of a to-go container.
Not only was it dubious nutrition
but I began to think they might
name a land fill after me. Sometimes
I ate dinner out of the vending
machines. Chips. Candy. Stomach
ache. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">My
ideas about food are pretty
clear. I like it to be beautiful,
seasonal and regional. I like
warm, hearty food when it's
cold and light cold food when
it's hot. I like lots of little
meals and I don't like to eat
after six in the evening. But
I do like multi course meals
with lots of wine and good conversation.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Because
I live in California fresh food
is abundant. Locally produced
everything. But sometimes cheese
has to come from France. Or
Italy. And sometimes soup tastes
good in the sun. I make a point
to eat protein, green leafy
some things and fresh fruit every
day. I don't really get frozen
veggies, or canned fruit. Peas
are OK frozen. Tomatoes are
OK canned. If there are words
with more than five syllables
in the ingredients, I don't
really want to eat it. I loathe
fast food. For so many reasons.
But when I was in school I ate
fast food a few times. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">One
summer I ate so many peaches
and nectarines and berries that
I stopped eating sugar. I was
getting so much sugar in the
fruit I never wanted it any
other way. And then I bought
a chocolate chip cookie and
it tasted SO good. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I've
been thinking about all this
lately because Mom is one of
those people who eats desert
and says she shouldn't. It just
doesn't make sense to me. If
you're putting it in your mouth,
you may as well be happy about
it. She and Ken can both pack
in the sugar. I took them a
box of cookies and I've been
refilling it every other day.
We often have desert with dinner
and we got candy at Ghiradelli.
I don't really think this is
a big deal. It's a vacation
and a holiday and a time of
celebration. But Mom keeps talking
about how she shouldn't be eating what she is eating.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
dunno. Maybe she thinks that
if she says negative things
about the candy and cookies
as she eats it she won't be
punished with the dreaded weight
gain.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
talk about having a fat mom
and a fat grandmom but looking
at her these days she doesn't
really seem fat. She's round.
But in some ways, she's tiny.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">On
Christmas, I called my aunt.
She always asks if I'm still
... (uncomfortable pause)...big.
It's such a loopy question.
I've always been fat. I've been
less fat and more fat but always
fat. Once when she asked I said
yes and my eyes are still brown.
She didn't get it. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Things
haven't been too weird between
Mom and I in terms of food and
diet talk. Things come up and
then they pass. But the constant
reference to what she shouldn't be eating, coupled with
our earlier conversation, and my aunt, it's all having
an impact on me. I notice that when I look in the mirror
I have a bad attitude about how I look. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Mom
is actually pretty happy and proud of my MFA. But I
am tense and tired. I can't tell if I still have pleurisy.
I have had a few pains but I think I'm better. I think
I'll spend Monday trying to ground myself. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(791)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_791"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 8:41
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e491" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e491"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e491"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
30</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;"> Adrienne
came to take Mom and Ken to
the airport. This after days
of travel to visit her own family,
in the middle of a huge rainstorm
and she came bearing muffins
and OJ. Just amazing. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">We
went very early and sat to talk
for awhile. Mom had ordered
wheel chairs for she and Ken.
Adrienne went to the desk to
ask for them about twenty minutes
before we needed them. The woman she
spoke with never ordered them.
We talked one guy with a chair
into taking Ken to security
and he and Mom went in. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">At
this point I think I just went
into a shut down. I watched
as they were told to walk around
to another area. He with her
canes. Him with his walker.
Because they had no chairs, Adrienne
went back to see if she could
get us passes so that we could
go with them. It never occurred
to me that I could go with them.
She got a pass because she had
her ID but I needed to get one.
I just wanted her to go and
make sure they were all right,
which she did. I thought she'd
come right back. But Ken had
fallen. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">When
he was waiting for the guy to
search him they took his walker
away. He can't stand with out
it. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Once
he had fallen wheel chairs seemed
to appear from no where. Adrienne
went with them to the gate.
The security people were telling
me someone from Delta was coming
to talk to me. I felt like I
was frozen to the spot. tears
were running down my face. I
could see my Mom in the distance.
After two weeks of walking behind
them, trying to hold them up
with my will, I had nothing
left. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">They
got on the plane. It was raining
and raining. Adrienne and I
saw three or four accidents
on the way home form the airport.
The day felt full of vulnerability
and risk. We went out to lunch. I came
home and slept and read. At
nine o'clock Mom called to say
they had arrived in North Carolina.
</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">In
the past two weeks I've seen
people go out of their way to
help Mom and Ken. I've seen
people bump and shove and ignore
them. There is no one conclusion
about how it is to be vulnerable
in the world. But standing on one side of the security
line watching my wobbly parents move through a group
of sullen stressed out workers I couldn't help but think
that they weren't safe. In American airports security
will take your walker. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">People
told me to enjoy the time with
Mom and Ken. It's not that simple.
I love my mom. But it's not
that simple. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
have good friends who come through
the storm with muffins and OJ
and energy when I am losing
mine. I feel like I've been
gone for a long time. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(792)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_792"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 8:29
AM</font></font></p>
<hr align="justify">
<p align="justify"><a id="e492" href="http://www.fatshadow.com/December2003.htm#e492"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">December</font></a><a id="e492"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">
31</font></a><a id="e373"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> </font></a><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1">2003
</font><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;"> I've
been thinking about self improvement.
Or inner work. Or something.
The image of a table came to
me. A table with layers of paint.
Maybe even a layer of contact
paper. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">And
when you want to return the
table to its original condition
you take off layer after layer.
Maybe you work slow because
you don't want to hurt the table.
Maybe at some point you can
see a bit of all the layers.
Identities. Phases of life. A
palimpsest.</span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Maybe
I still have a bit of pleurisy.
Maybe it's because of the intensity
of the last two weeks. Or turning
50. Or getting the MFA. Maybe
I'm just a drama queen. But
I feel stripped. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">I
kept thinking about the table but I couldn't find anywhere
to go with the metaphor. It's a problem I have lately.
Drawing conclusions. I seem to have forgotten how. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Mom
called. Medicare doesn't want to pay for Ken to have
an x-ray because someone is "at fault". Delta
says they aren't "at fault" because they
lease the wheel chairs from someone in the airport.
The someone in the airport says Delta didn't call them.
This isn't a big problem because my parents can afford
an x-ray. Ken seems to be OK. My mom is fierce and is
making calls and will be writing letters. I wrote to
Delta and SFO. I talked to someone with the airport yesterday.
When I talk to these people I feel like I'm being handled.
The worst has happened. Nothing can be done. They're
just letting me blow off steam. other than paying for
the x-ray and reprimanding everyone involved, I'm
not sure what they can do. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Yesterday
I cleaned a little bit. Renee came over and ordered
a pizza. She did school stuff and I read. I can feel
my brain starting to clear. My body isn't as tight.
But I do feel stripped. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Maybe
that's a good way to feel on
the last day of the year. Next
year has to be a year of taking form. I'm just not sure
what I mean by that. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:11pt;">Here's
to you my blog reading comrades. A mighty and luscious
lot you are. 2004 is a blank page waiting for the touch
of ink and intention. Let's fill it up. </span></font></p>
<p align="justify"><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><SCRIPT type="text/javascript">get_comment_link(793)</script> <noscript></span></font><a href="http://rateyourmusic.com/yaccs/commentsn/b=90000008560_and_e_is_793"><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;">comment</span></font></a><font face="Lucida Sans"><span style="font-size:10pt;"></noscript>
</span><font size="1"> </font></font><font face="Lucida Sans" size="1"> 8:18
AM</font></font></p>
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