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<p>May</p>
<p>May 1, 2001</p>
                <p>  Yesterday the board of supes voted 
                to include medical benefits for transgendered and transexual 
                folks that work for the city and county of San Francisco. During 
                the pre vote debates one of the supes was listing other kinds 
                of surgeries that should be considered. He said that surgery 
                for people who were fat - <b>not by choice</b> -  should be 
                included. I would have been more comfortable if he had said 
                improved health care for fat people that does not include trying 
                to make them thin. </p>
                <p>And then, in this book that I am reading, 
                <i>A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, 
                </i>the guy says: &quot;Oh these 
                fat kids. Look at these kids these little porkers. Is this a 
                genetic thing? Disgusting the existence of fat kids.&quot; Now, 
                this follows writing in which he and his friends do a thing 
                for their magazine to strike out against the image of body perfection 
                that we are bombarded with in magazines. And there had been 
                an earlier scene in which he sees a school mate of his eight 
                year old brother, a girl who is taller and larger than all the 
                others and he wants his brother to be her friend and make her 
                happy. The whole book is almost like Dave Eggers is saying look 
                at all this dumb stuff I think, so when I read that line about 
                the fat kids I tried to remind myself that people think dumb 
                stuff but the hostility is so painful. I was a fat kid, treated 
                with disgust. </p>
                <p>Happy May day.</p>
                <p>  &nbsp;May 2, 2001</p>
                <p>  My mother &amp; stepfather bought 
                me a new computer, printer &amp; scanner. It's like Christmas. 
                I'm waiting for UPS. I tracked the stuff on line so I know it's 
                in SF. These are graduation/getting in to grad school presents. 
                It's pretty amazing. I am blessed. As a result of this abundance 
                I am &nbsp;thinking of little else. This, despite our president 
                commiting to &quot;star wars&quot;, all the wonderful may day 
                events and a great e-mail that I got from <a href="http://www.michaelmoore.com/" target="_blank">Michael 
                Moo</a>re, all things I might other 
                wise blab about. The letter from Michael is on his site. It's 
                great! I'm too busy running to the back door to see if the UPS 
                truck has pulled up to write more. </p>
                <p>May 3, 2001</p>
                <p>  This is just amazing. UPS brought 
                four boxes yesterday. Because I had been manically tracking 
                via the UPS web site I knew there were five due. I&nbsp;went 
                back to the web site and checked and one was not due till today. 
                WHY? &nbsp;I'm sure there is some UPS reason but I just can't 
                imagine. I mean&nbsp;they all left Dell on the same day but 
                one of them took a side trip to San Bruno. AND ... it was the 
                monitor. So, I have everything set up waiting for the monitor. 
                It means another day of being a prisoner of UPS, waiting for 
                the buzzer. They came at 2:00 yesterday. They've come as late 
                as 5:00.  My back is out again, no doubt a result of moving 
                furniture and computer equipment. I know there are bigger problems 
                in the world and I know I am very lucky to be getting all this 
                but I'm feeling very cranky. Maybe it's just coz my back hurts 
                and I watched the UPS guy roll my computer end over end up the 
                stairs. That just didn't seem good. I woke up dreaming about 
                the computer. Kooky. </p>
<p>May 4, 2001</p>
                <p>  OK. It's all here and it is amazing! 
                everything installed with out much effort. The scanner gave 
                me a moment of misery but one call to tech support and it's 
                working. I still have to put my web publishing software in but 
                I'll do that this weekend. The first thing I did was download 
                Netscape. I just can't stand the everything Microsoft thing. 
                They even have a program that is like Quiken, called Microsoft 
                Money. When I got my first computer there was a little bit of 
                everything on it, a variety of software. My laptop was all Microsoft 
                and this new one is the same. It's so annoying. SO, my little 
                rebellion is to get Netscape, which by the way is kinda buggy. 
                Oh well. My apartment looks like there has been an earthquake. 
                </p>
                <p>I got another rejection. I had sent 
                my SIMS piece to Salon and, after a month wrote back to say 
                thanks but no thanks. If I wasn't so wound up about the computer 
                I'd be more bummed. </p>
            <i>&quot;There 
            is clearly too narrow a limit on how much money can be made from 
            health, but the profitability of disease--especially disease of 
            spirit or character--has so far, for profiteers, no visible limit.&quot; 
            &nbsp;- Wendell Berry</i>                                <p>May 5, 2001</p>
                <p>  On Thursday, in the morning, while 
                I was waiting for my monitor, I listened to <a href="http://www.democracynow.org" target="_blank">Democracy 
                Now</a>, as is my habit. Amy played 
                some tapes that have recently surfaced of Georgia state executions. 
                 They were overwhelming. We tend to debate the merit of the 
                death penalty in relation to the person being executed. We seldom 
                think about the impact on the folks that carry out the executions. 
                Listening to these voices tell what is happening as a man is 
                seated in the electric chair and what happens to the body after 
                the switch is flipped is surreal. I can't imagine that people 
                involved in this aren't struck with such cognitive dissonance 
                that they inevitably implode. Last year I remember there were 
                some tapes of people who worked in the prison industry in Texas 
                talking about their jobs. They all expressed some degree of 
                conflict. After Democracy Now I heard the tapes again on CNN 
                and MSNBC. The difference was dramatic. Amy just played the 
                tapes in all their stark misery. But on television there were 
                pictures and commentary. For example when listening to sections 
                of a few executions strung together  you could see  pictures 
                of the person and read what crime they committed. The effect 
                was ... well ... don't feel too bad that this guy is being killed 
                because he did these terrible things. This is what Chomsky calls 
                manufacturing consent. The person that brought these tapes to 
                the public was saying that we are going to have the death penalty 
                we ought to know what we're doing. Of course there is also the 
                danger of things like this enflaming the public need for vengeance. 
                Listening to a call in show about the tapes on MSNC demonstrated 
                that there is such a need. But my question is do we have the 
                need by nature or by culturalization?</p>
                <p><font color="purple">  </font>&nbsp;May 7, 2001</p>
                <p>  I'm happy. It doesn't happen that 
                often so I'm enjoying it. I don't really think that you can 
                construct happiness. I mean I think you can lean toward&nbsp;it 
                but, if you aren't happy - you aren't happy. And today I am. 
                Certainly having a new computer and going to grad school ... 
                I mean there are good things happening. But it just seems more 
                random somehow. And I'm just gonna enjoy it.  </p>
                <p>May 8, 2001</p>
                <p>  I donated blood yesterday. And today 
                I am tired. That's what happens to me when I donate, I get really 
                tired for a few days. So, I'm just eating green leafy food and 
                taking it easy. My apartment is still in recovery from the arrival 
                of the computer but it is coming back together. And today I'm 
                going to install the web software into the new computer. Won't 
                that be fun?! Yesterday I was making a card for my mom and I 
                printed it eight times before I got it right. I'm blaming the 
                blood loss. It is hot here these days and the heat adds to my 
                need to lay down.  </p>
<p><font color="black">May 10, 2001</font></p>
                <p><font color="black">  It feels like I donated brain cells. 
                I have no concentration. I think it's a combination of the blood 
                donation, the heat, unemployment, the moon, and who knows what 
                all. I'm hopein I snap out of it soon. </font></p>
            <font face="Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif"><i>&quot;An 
            eye for an eye. Making the whole world blind.&quot; &nbsp;&nbsp;- 
            Gandhi</i></font>                                <p>May 14, 2001</p>
<p>I've been tucked in. It's like this 
                for me. If I'm not clear on what I'm feeling I dive inside. 
                It's hard for me to interact. And I'm still not clear about 
                the use of this space. I've been using it as a sort of column 
                writing practice space. It could be a place where I work my 
                process but I'm not sure how. To some extent that's because 
                there are people in my life, actively or not, and some of what 
                I'm feeling has to do with them. But, my feelings are more global 
                than any one particular situation. And my feelings are unclear. 
                So, if it seems like I'm not writing about anything here -- 
                I'm not. I'm awash in confused and unfocused thinking and feeling 
                and have been for about a week. This morning I thought I was 
                getting clear on some stuff to write and now it's gone.  </p>
                <p>May 16, 2001</p>
                <p>  My emotional process can be so convoluted. 
                This occurred to me last night as I lay in bed contemplating 
                a tangled mass of feelings. I was the only&nbsp;child of a single 
                mother. So, I was THE ONE. But my father and mother divorced 
                when I was three months old and I didn't meet him until I was 
                twelve. So I was NO ONE. So, as an adult I suffer relationship. 
                It's rare that I feel truly connected to anyone. Well, that's 
                an exaggeration. I often feel connected to people. See how this 
                works? One minute I'm feeling one thing the next I'm feeling 
                the opposite. It's exhausting and aggravated by being a double 
                Gemini with a Libra moon. But the point is that when I having 
                trouble in a specific relationship my feelings get global really 
                fast. And I have been having some problems. And then there's 
                hormones. It's hard to say what all is at play but I am feeling 
                dark and nonverbal and pointless. I think school will help but 
                that's a month a way. I got accupuncture on Monday and I'm taking 
                some herbs. I kinda think that rather than trying to stay buoyant 
                I should buy a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of bourbon and 
                just go for the dive. Maybe I'd resurface faster. But I figured 
                out the software for the new computer and so I'm now publishing 
                from that computer. </p>
                <p>May 17, 2001</p>
                <p>  When I was a kid I spent a lot of 
                time playing alone, usually with dolls, making up little stories. 
                So this kind of spaced out revelry comforts me. Now I have the 
                <a href="http://www.thesims.ea.com" target="_blank">SIMS</a>. 
                I play with their little houses and tell myself stories&nbsp;about 
                them. this morning I was getting ready to write about a few 
                random things and instead of clicking on the web editor I clicked 
                on the SIMS. And of course I had to play for awhile. I played 
                with my Goth family. I got the adults raises and the kids new 
                friends and got everyone new furniture. Kooky but true. </p>
                <p>I had been thinking about a friend who 
                is trying to have a baby. And then I started thinking about 
                how much I use to baby sit. I love kids. And I loved hanging 
                out with them and for a while that little bit of babysitting 
                money kept me going. I would whisper in their ears, &quot;you're 
                so beautiful, you're so smart, you're so strong&quot; and on 
                and on. I don't know if the kids actually listened to what I 
                was saying or if they just like the air tickling their ears.</p>
                <p>May 18, 2001</p>
                <p>  &nbsp;During this stupor that I've 
                been in lately I have done two things, play SIMS and read DTWOF 
                comics. It really is like a regression to childhood except I 
                usually have KPFA on the radio or the board of supervisors on 
                the TV. Imagine the paradox. Suzanne turned me on to DTWOF and 
                a book about <a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1563410966/qid=990198079/sr=1-5/ref=sc_b_5/104-7967838-0361547" target="_blank">Alison 
                Bechdel</a> the artist. I was reading 
                it yesterday and Alison talks about not being gender identified 
                until she was in college and not knowing that she was a lesbian 
                until then. She writes about not wanting to be a girl and then 
                realizing that she was a woman. It's pretty interesting and 
                made me think about how subtle all this identity and preference 
                stuff is. There has never been a time when I didn't want to 
                be a woman but there has never been a time when I felt like 
                I, literally, fit into the culture standard of woman. So, I 
                only wore makeup when I was on stage and I've always been wary 
                of too much lace and pink. somehow because I was fat I formed 
                an idea that I would look foolish trying to look too feminine. 
                I was suppose to look capable and serious. I think this also 
                came from being father less and feeling that I could not depend 
                on men to&nbsp;take care of me. My &quot;style&quot; was gathered 
                together from all these influences. And from a very young age 
                I had crushes on boys. Boys were the mysterious and longed for 
                unknown. The easily read signs of boy/girl straight/gay are 
                not actually that easy to read. </p>
                <p>May 19, 2001</p>
                <p>  &nbsp;Yesterday, I had a fat field 
                trip day. Marilyn and I went to <a href="http://www.makingitbigonline.com" target="_blank">Making It Big</a> because they were 
                having a sale. Shopping was such a drag for me for so many years 
                so I am still like a kid in a candy store when it comes to a 
                store full of cloths which actually fit! I got a couple of pair 
                of pants, a jumper, a dress and some socks. And then we went 
                to <a href="http://www.peglutz.com" target="_blank">Peggy 
                Lutz's</a> show room. Her cloths 
                are fantastic but a bit more expensive than I can bear. And 
                this goes back to that stuff I was writing yesterday. There 
                is a way in which I don't feel as if I'm allowed glamour. And 
                I sometimes think that when I, or any other fat woman gets all 
                dolled up, it's a positive thing because we take back that right, 
                that kind of womanhood. And that butts up against my sense that 
                make up, high heels, unwieldy dresses are a way of keeping woman 
                as dolls. So, it's a bit context dependent for me. On her site 
                there is a section in which Patti, of <a href="http://www.tuckandpatti.com" target="_blank">Tuck 
                &amp; Patt</a>i, models some Diva 
                wear. Very cool. And then we went to see a performance of fat 
                dancers, <a href="http://www.bigmoves.org" target="_blank">Big 
                Moves</a>. &nbsp;There were three 
                companies performing, Kendra Kimbrough, <a href="http://www.fcbd.com" target="_blank">Fat 
                Chance Belly Dance</a> and <a href="http://www.bigdance.org" target="_blank">Big 
                Dance</a>. Big Dance was interesting. 
                I've seen a lot of modern dance and this had moments of brilliance. 
                It was challenging to watch fat bodies dance. One dancer was 
                a really good mover and did a fantastic solo. And I feel like 
                she could have done more and was, perhaps, under choreographed. 
                One dancer was not a good mover, not in her body, not committed. 
                There are often better and worse dancers in any company and 
                I was mindful of this while being troubled by her lack. We hadn't 
                eaten dinner, I was starving and it was late so we ate at a 
                Jack in the Box. I don't eat fast food and now I remember why. 
                   </p>
                <p>May 21, 2001</p>
                <p>  &nbsp;I saw <i>Memento</i> last night. 
                It's a movie in which a man has lost his short term memory. 
                He remembers things from the past but not from one minute to 
                another. It could have been a commentary on how memory creates 
                identity. Maybe it was but it just kind of annoyed me. It kept 
                circling back on itself. And you were trying to figure out who 
                to trust and became annoying. Whether or not memory is trustworthy 
                is an interesting notion and I think the movie was interesting 
                and well done. but at the end of the movie I was wondering if 
                there was an intended larger meaning. It seemed long on fancy 
                technique and short on humanity.</p>
                <p>May 22, 2001</p>
                <p>  &nbsp;<a href="http://www.oprah.com/tows/pastshows/tows_past_20010521" target="_blank">Barbara 
                Ehrenreich </a>was on Oprah yesterday. 
                Every once in a while Oprah does something almost radical. Ehrenreich 
                was talking abut her book <a href="http://staceys.booksense.com/NASApp/store/IndexJsp?GXHC_GX_jst=90c77146662d6160&GXHC_gx_session_id_store=efdee2d67ac35564&s=showproduct&isbn=0805063889" target="_blank"><i>Nickel 
                and Dimed</i></a><i>. </i>It is 
                a book that talks about a year in which she worked as a maid 
                and a house cleaner. And Oprah had women on talking about how 
                they live on minimum wage. I got a call in the middle of it 
                so I missed a lot of it so I can't really comment on the over 
                all tone. But there was this one point when I looked at the 
                screen and Ehrenreich and a woman who lived on very little money 
                were sitting there with O, who looked fabulous but also a bit 
                overdressed, almost regal. I kept wondering if they were going 
                to help the poor woman financially. It was a show that challenged 
                the notion that we are an affluent country. And, sadly because 
                of this appearance thing, the class division was literally modeled. 
                Clearly Oprah does great things with her money and she desearves 
                enourmous success but the disparity between that kind of wealth 
                and how too many people live seems vulgar.  </p>
                <p>May 23, 2001</p>
                <p>  &nbsp;KPFA is playing a tape of the 
                discussion on race and jazz that I went to in March. One of 
                the panelists, a European American man, who had written a book 
                about white musicians in jazz, more or less took the position 
                that we should focus on the music and forget or ignore all that 
                race stuff. That's exactly the kind of white liberal denial 
                that limits any real discourse about race. Hearing it again 
                this morning pissed me off. Also in the discussion there was 
                a confusion that occurred when one of the panelists quoted someone 
                who said something like jazz musicians had elevated black experience 
                from the individual to the universal. But it was said differently 
                and used the word human rather than universal and another panelist 
                took umbrage and said blacks are human. It is exactly this kind 
                of semantical glitch that keeps the discussion at odds. In other 
                words things weren't said well, or clearly, and then an understandable 
                confusion arises. I&nbsp;remember that there was something about 
                the conversation that night that&nbsp;seemed fragmented. People 
                didn't seem to be getting each other in ways. The discussion 
                on race is so important and fraught with emotion and&nbsp;perspective. 
                 </p>
                <p>May 25, 2001</p>
                <p>  &nbsp;A friend of mine is getting 
                involved with a spiritual community. It actually &nbsp;seems 
                OK to me. I'm even a bit envious. I had a conversation with 
                another friend the other day in which I made the mistake of 
                using the word god. Everything got semantic and miserable. The 
                very word seems to dredge up fear of assimilation into a Borg 
                of followers. I hung up the phone and had a little temper tantrum. 
                Of course I was alone in my apartment so it was really between 
                God and me, which by my theology means I was talking to myself. 
                It is important to me to respect people's beliefs even if I 
                don't agree with them. That doesn't mean silence but it does 
                mean a quality of respect in any conversation and a position 
                of allowance. In other words I want to allow for all possibilities 
                even as I forge my own sense of things. But a community of consensus 
                can be an enormous relief.</p>
                <p>May 28, 2001</p>
                <p>  &nbsp; Marilyn Wann
took me to my first <a href="http://www.naafa.org" target="_blank">NAAFA</a> event this weekend. We spent the day wandering around
the Westin Hotel, with a fair number of fat people, shopping in rooms full of
venders selling cloths, jewelry, fat statues and books on size acceptance.
There was also a pool part and a dinner/dance. There were a few things that I
found curious. People kept saying things to me like, well, �we fat people eat a
lot� or �if you told any fat person that if they took a pill they could be thin
they would take the pill.� Neither of these statements is true for me and both
are dubious assumptions in terms of size acceptance. Most curious was
a workshop on the choice to have gastrointestinal surgery for the purpose of
weight loss. Marilyn and I arrived late to the seminar so I spent a while
listening. There were two sisters sitting in front, one who had had the surgery
and one who had not. There were other people in the room who had had the surgery
or were thinking about the surgery. There was an effort to make sure they felt �safe�
and &nbsp;&quot;un-judged�. Their advocacy for the surgery was built on the platform of
health and a professed inability to change their relationship with their
bodies.  NAAFA, on thier
website, takes a well stated position against the surgery but in this room there
was an unspoken injunction from the people who were making the choice to have
the surgery � &nbsp;&quot;don�t make us feel bad about our choice.� Actually it was spoken
but the momentum of the conversation seemed to build on this vibe. It was more
than a bit ironic, to me, since they can get support for their choice in most
other communities in the general culture, like the medical community and the
weight loss industry. It would seem as
if a NAAFA convention might make a bit more space for debunking the underlying notions
of the value of this surgery. There was some. My thoughts and
feelings on the surgery are framed by my own feminism and personal politic when
thinking about the body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes">&nbsp; </span>And my
reactions are much the same as the ones I have to breast implants or even nose
jobs because there is a way in which we are all trying to fit into a Madison
Avenue standard of beauty. A difference is that these people are saying that
having the surgery is about health and mobility.I�ve always been
fat but I haven�t had mobility issues until my forties. Of course most of the
people I know in their forties are talking about mobility issues and some of
them exercise regularly. I have to work to maintain mobility in ways I did not
have to work for it when I was younger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes">&nbsp;
                </span>Another factor, for me, is that I left a very physical career, cooking,
and went to a more sedentary endeavor, college. My mobility might be enhanced
by weighing loss but it is definitely enhanced by � movement. And because I
have always used alternative methods to improve my health I have found herbs
and vitamins that have improved my mobility at my current weight. The surgery
in and of itself does nothing to improve mobility. </p>
                <p>May 29, 2001</p>
                <p>  If I could take a pill and be thin 
                I would not. The very notion makes me think of that bit in <i>The 
                Matrix</i> where the guy is offered two pills, one which will 
                cause him to go back to sleep and forget what he has learned 
                and one will wake him ALL THE WAY UP. And of&nbsp;course, in 
                the movie, being awake means to know that the general population 
                is in a form of  unconscious slavery to another life form that 
                lives off their energy. To be awake means to know that one has 
                to fight this other life form to achieve and sustain this knowledge 
                and to&nbsp;help other people to wake up. It was a pretty good 
                critique of capitalism. But to use it as a metaphor for the 
                size acceptance community one needs to define why size acceptance 
                is important. What defines us as an oppressed group? What cultural 
                mystification have we internalized? We have internalized a central 
                and wrong idea that being fat is wrong and ugly and it is our 
                fault and we could change it if we wanted to. The leaders in 
                this community have asked the questions and have debunked some 
                mystification. There is more than one reason why&nbsp;a person 
                is fat but it certainly begins with genetics. And that isn't 
                as simple as it sounds because there is not just <b>A</b> fat 
                gene. There is a variety of gene combos that describe the proclivity 
                for fatness. Fatness can be mediated by eating less and exercising 
                more but how much less and how much more is rarely the same 
                for any two individuals. There are people who are attracted 
                to fatness. To be fat is to be sexually attractive. And fat 
                people can look great in clothes that are made to fit them. 
                So those leaders have given us the pill, in the form of these 
                truths, that can wake us up to the battle that we have before 
                us. Knowing that if you ask me, do you want the pill that will 
                put you back to sleep? I gotta say &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<b>NO</b>!!! 
                And why would being thin mean that I was asleep? Because being 
                fat is how I learned that doctors lie, and Madison avenue constructs 
                beauty and truth and love is more powerful than all of that. 
                </p>
                <p>  </p>
                <p>May 30, 2001</p>
                <p>  After a couple of days of long diatribes 
                on my <a href="http://www.naafa.org" target="_blank">NAAFA</a> 
                experience I find that I am feeling a bit quiet. It may be that 
                I am just tired. And I am feeling a bit a drift. I spent some 
                time yesterday looking for a job in the paper. Page after page 
                and there really doesn't seem like any jobs that I&nbsp;can 
                do. I did continue to write about the weekend but I'm not sure 
                where to send it.  </p>
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