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<p><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;"><b>November</b></span></p>
<p>&quot;<i>The unsurrogated narrator has the monumental task 
                of transforming low level self-interest into the kind of detached 
                empathy required of a piece of writing that is to be of value 
                to the disinterested reader.&quot; -</i>Vivian Gornick</p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        1</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I 
                        was reading some thoughts on how 9/11 rendered folks 
                        speechless. There seemed no adequate response. I certainly 
                        share that sentiment. Kind of a sucky thing to deal 
                        with in your first semester of a writing program. Somehow 
                        the speaking has to have more body and heart. And less 
                        duality. But, even those words sound like theory. When 
                        my writing comes from my body it seems evident to me, 
                        but I haven't learned how to embody all my writing. 
                        I loose presence to fear, rage, uncertainty.  I loose 
                        presence to a sense of irreparable damage. How do you 
                        speak to that? How do live with damage and communicate 
                        with out seeming trite? I notice that I'm living as 
                        if there is no war, and I tense up. But, it serves no 
                        one for me to be tense. Maybe more aware, but not tense. 
                        </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        2</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The 
                        phrases &quot;<i>credible threat&quot; &quot;be alert&quot; 
                        &quot;live normally&quot;</i> -- are taking on the quality 
                        of repetitive practical joke. &nbsp;I, who rarely goes 
                        across a bridge or south of Folsom, have plans to go 
                        north with a friend on Saturday. I could not sleep last 
                        night. I don't really feel afraid. I just feel tense. 
                        Planes all seem to be flying too low. I keep waiting 
                        for a loud noise. </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">Last 
                        night there was a faculty reading. Our workshop teacher, 
                        Lisa Harper, read a piece about a chef in the place 
                        (dorm?) where she went to college. I thought everyone 
                        might run out the door to a restaurant at the end. Before 
                        the reading Kristina and her husband and I went to Zuni 
                        for dinner. It was great fun and food and talk. All 
                        my favorites. </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        4</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;So, 
                        I survived the bridge. The bridge was wrapped in fog, 
                        not an unusual thing but somehow it seemed protective. 
                        I was so busy admiring it that I missed seeing the National 
                        Guard. </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">I'm 
                        home on a Sunday morning for the first time in like, 
                        five years.  It doesn't actually feel bad. I think when 
                        I left the Stinking Rose, I was really determined to 
                        not be treated badly. I've been drawing lines ever since. 
                        And my awareness of how being fat has shaped my sense 
                        of what I'm allowed to &quot;have&quot; is more acute. 
                        I'm not sure what I'm going to do next week. </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        5</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I've 
                        had this intestinal flu or food poisoning or something. 
                        So, I've been out of sorts. I was trying to work on 
                        a piece of writing yesterday but couldn't concentrate. 
                        In the evening I lay on the couch flipping from the 
                        Emmys to Uprising and trying to read about Daniel Ortega's 
                        conversion to capitalism. &nbsp;Way too many things 
                        to make sense of at once, even with out stomach cramps. 
                        </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">Tomorrow 
                        is election day. Other than annoying negative campaign 
                        ads from a candidate for city attorney and PG&amp;E 
                        ads against the MUD, there hasn't been much notice. 
                        Low voter turn out is predicted. </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        6</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I 
                        went to see K-PAX last night. Let's hear it for the 
                        Metreon. They have a row of seats with arms that lift 
                        up. I was able to be totally comfortable watching a 
                        movie in a movie theater! Amazing! It just doesn't seem 
                        like it's that much to ask. I'm not sure why they can't 
                        all be that way but maybe it's very expensive.&nbsp;Still, 
                        with the cost of popcorn and soda being what it is you 
                        would think they could make the money back. The movie 
                        was great. Mostly owing to Kevin Spacey. Mystery and 
                        possibility. </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">So, 
                        it's election day. I'm hoping the MUD is supported. 
                         </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        7</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                        The MUD does not seem to have passed. But, I have to 
                        say that it's not clear to me. Coverage of the election 
                        was literally put on the bottom of the screen. &nbsp;KPFA 
                        is saying that it did not pass. I read the Chronicle 
                        on line, same thing. I guess I'm hoping beyond hope. 
                        Voter turn out was in the twenty something percent. 
                         I understand that. But it's sad. Most people are so 
                        busy that they don't even know there is an election.</span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">I'm 
                        craning toward poetry lately. &nbsp;I'm reading more 
                        of it. My language is often shaped by what I'm reading. 
                        I've been reading <i>Political Fictions </i>&nbsp;by 
                        Joan Didion. I always learn new words when I read her. 
                        It's an amazing and difficult book. But, I read Aaron's 
                        book, <i>Unbound, </i>&nbsp;one evening. it's a lovely, 
                        devastating, attentive book. I had the same experience 
                        when I read Lynn Hejinian. the world started to fragment 
                        and come to me in phrases, rather than narrative.  I 
                        feel expanded when it happens, but completely out of 
                        control. I don't know what I'm doing. Maybe I don't 
                        know what I'm doing in narrative, but I feel like I 
                        do....most of the time. </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        9</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                        Another crazy election. &nbsp;As far as I know, things 
                        are still unclear. Ballots are still being counted.</span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">An 
                        unpleasant trend has begun. When I first started doing 
                        the page I wrote it at night, woke up and tweaked it 
                        and the published. After a while I wrote it all in the 
                        morning. I woke up&nbsp;thinking about it. I stayed 
                        with the morning writing but my thinking didn't stay 
                        with waking up early. I go to bed wound up and wake 
                        up spaced out. I'm not sure how to reorganize. I thought 
                        about writing at night again, but when I am wound up, 
                        it's hard to imagine I won't still be full of things 
                        to say in the morning. All this is to say... I have 
                        nothing to say. </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        10</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                        How's this for denial? My attitude is ...if I don't 
                        see the mouse...maybe the mouse is gone. And I don't 
                        have to buy a trap! And I haven't seen the mouse, for 
                        over a week. Phew. </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">I 
                        watched Entertainment Tonight yesterday because the 
                        woman&nbsp;that Plays Gwenth Paltrow's in <i>Shallow 
                        Hal</i> was on, defending the movie. Apparently, Carnie 
                        Wilson, who had stomach reduction surgery, was on a 
                        show talking about how she cried through the whole movie 
                        because of all the fat jokes. The fat woman, whose name 
                        I am embarrassed to say I do not know,talked about how 
                        the movies is about how beauty is on the inside. It 
                        was psychologically tell tale. She emphasized putting 
                        other's before one self as an attribute of inner beauty. 
                        That's less a charter trait and more a sign of internalized 
                        oppression. She is a fat woman and they padded her for 
                        the film. Paltrow talked about how she worried that 
                        the fat actress might be hurt by seeing her in the fat 
                        suit. But, the fat woman &quot;was just great!&quot; 
                        Paltrow was put at ease. The movie is obviously one 
                        &nbsp;long fat joke. Too hurtful and wrong headed to 
                        garner my attention, but these interviews were almost 
                        worse. Beauty is a realization. It shows up inside and 
                        out. </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        11</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                        I had a conversation yesterday that made me think about 
                        my notion of politics. I do not participate in many 
                        things and that's, in part, because I am such a rec 
                        luse these days. And, in a democracy, I suppose, you 
                        can measure one's politics against their participation. 
                        But my life feels political. Walking out my door feels 
                        political. </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">I 
                        saw Alice Notely last night. Really wonderful. </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        12</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                        Drops of rain are pelting my window. They're so big 
                        and it's so loud, that I had to turn the radio up. I'm 
                        so happy that I don't have to go out. </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">Prop 
                        F failed by less than 500 votes. There may be a recount. 
                        The battle for public power will still be fought. But, 
                        it's the residual discomfort from the election irregularities 
                        that will stay in people's minds. What ever faith in 
                        the process there may have been is eroding. An article 
                        in the New York Times yesterday says that Gore may have 
                        won if all the votes had been counted. Now it's just 
                        matter of what anyone chooses to believe.  </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        13</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                        It was disorienting to listen to the news yesterday. 
                         It seems that the plane crash in New York was an equipment 
                        problem and not terrorism. And I actually heard someone 
                        use the word normal to describe it, normal system failure 
                        as opposed to terrorism. There were those kooky reassurances 
                        to go on and live normally, scattered though the day. 
                        a few hundred people have just died, houses have been 
                        destroyed, families have been torn. Go ahead and live 
                        normally. And of course, you can't capsize every time 
                        something bad happens. You have to live your life. But, 
                        I think you can live your life and know that something 
                        terrible has happened. Normal, these days, seems to 
                        require holding a certain amount of sadness.  Someone 
                        sent me this poem yesterday.</span></span></p>
                        <p style="line-height:100%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;">D<span style="font-size:11pt;">on t talk about being 
true to myself<BR>until you are 
sure<BR>to what voice you are 
being true.<BR><BR>It takes hard 
work to differentiate our inner 
voices<BR>and in 
crises,<BR>there is no time to 
waste.<BR>So spend an hour a day 
writing.<BR>Separate real from 
unreal,<BR>what stays from what 
goes.<BR>Then leap beyond anything 
you ever imagined.<BR>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;-Marion 
Woodman with Jill Mellick,</span></p>
<p style="line-height:100%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;"><span style="font-size:11pt;"> <BR></span><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        14</span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                        The first time I saw the mouse, it ran out from behind 
                        the &nbsp;etagere. But, more often I've seen it beside 
                        my desk. It runs from the chair to the book shelf. I've 
                        never seen it in the kitchen, but I thought I heard 
                        it in the oven one time. &nbsp;I'm still in if-I-don't 
                        -see-it-I don't-have-to-buy-a-trap mode. I'm giving 
                        myself neck cramps trying not to look toward the place 
                        where it runs. </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">We've 
                        been doing a lot of thinking about, and talking about, 
                        and writing about writing in school. &nbsp;It's an odd 
                        self conscious thing to do. It's good to stop and consider 
                        what the heck you're doing, but I have this I write, 
                        because I write, because I write reaction. And, actually, 
                        I don't write. Not as much as I might oughta.  There 
                        is such and overwhelming tug toward deciding one thing 
                        to be true. If fact so many things are true. </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        15</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                        I<font face="AGaramond">'m eating a chocolate chip cookie 
                        for breakfast. I already had millet cereal and multi 
                        grain toast to satisfy my inner adult. </span></font></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;"><font face="AGaramond">I 
                        wrote a poem. It doesn't happen often but the process 
                        of writing this one was like a year of therapy. Aaron 
                        had given an </font></span><span style="font-size:10pt;"><font face="AGaramond">assignment to write about writing 
                        and he asked that it reflect <i>the poetic. </i>&nbsp;I 
                        wrote one page in straight narrative and on the other 
                        I wrote a poem. I do not feel able to write poetry. 
                        I don't know how to work at it. &nbsp;A poem forms in 
                        my mind occasionally. Seeing Notley sent me into a reverie 
                        and I began to think poetically, as cheezy as that may 
                        sound. And I worked at this poem. Jo Ann sent me some 
                        suggestions after reading it. When I practiced reading 
                        it out loud, I became aware of every word. Maybe, for 
                        people who regularly write poems, this is all normal 
                        but for me it was mind altering. It brought into focus 
                        how much I am able to be with my own words. I guess 
                        that's abstract but I had to really experience each 
                        word and own what I meant. Even writing about it makes 
                        me self conscious.  It's on the refrigerator door. </span></font></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        16</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                        I wasn't going to write about <i>Shallow Hal. </i>&nbsp;It's 
                        a dumb movies. I don't feel like I need to see it to 
                        confirm that. But there has been a lot of discussion 
                        about it the fat community.  I started to think about 
                        the splitting of beauty into inner and outer. I want 
                        to be wholly beautiful. I'm not interested in being 
                        perceived, or in perceiving  in parts. It might be temporarily 
                        useful when you&nbsp;need to parse a really complex 
                        person. Ultimately, and certainly in terms of beauty, 
                        it's a way of lying. For years I worked on being a really 
                        beautiful person inside to &quot;make up for&quot; my 
                        outer lack of beauty. I believed I was the Beast, waiting 
                        for the Beauty that would love me for myself and then 
                        .... and then I thought my outside would respond to 
                        that acceptance. I was looking for the luv diet. Now, 
                        I am the love I was looking for. Which isn't to say 
                        I might not enjoy meeting someone who loves me, but 
                        I want to be loved inside and out. I want to be seen 
                        from his inner beauty. </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        17</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                         Drat! I saw the mouse last night! And of course I am 
                        resolved to get a trap. But, I don't want a snap trap 
                        or a sticky pad trap. I&nbsp;know there are ones where 
                        you get the mouse and then walk it&nbsp;to the park. 
                        It's such a drag. I could adopt a live and let live 
                        philosophy but I think it's eating my furniture. I keep 
                        finding little c hunks of my shelves. The whole thing 
                        has gotten into my dreams. I dreamed there was a frog 
                        in my house. And I was telling a friend that it was 
                        bugging me.  </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">I 
                        wrote in fits yesterday. A sentence. Five hours later, 
                        another sentence. They are all enormously awkward. Fortunately 
                        there aren't that many of them. I'm goin to work on 
                        them on Sunday. Today I'm going to see movies.</span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        18</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                         The movies 
                        were interesting. The first one, <i>&nbsp;Skin Deep, 
                        </i>&nbsp;was about a variety of weird notions of beauty 
                        and femininity. There was a fat woman, living in Bombay, 
                        very articulate. She talked about the experience of 
                        being fat. The second, <i>Desperately Seeking Helen,</i> 
                        was a memoir/self discovery piece. The woman included 
                        footage from her hospitalization for anorexia. truly 
                        heart wrenching.  And there was a film on how poor people 
                        work in a Bombay slum. It wasn't a feel good kind of 
                        movie day but it was interesting. <i> </span></i></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        19</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                         Today is one of those days when I really don't have 
                        a thing to say. I spent yesterday working on a piece 
                        of writing about myself as a reader. I might have to 
                        give up on it. It seems too meandering. I'm giving it 
                        another day to take shape and then I'm going to delete 
                        the whole thing. It's such a struggle! Sheesh! </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">I'm 
                        ignoring Thanksgiving. I'm just not in the mood.  </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        21</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                         I dreamt about Hillary Clinton. ??? She and Bill were 
                        visiting &nbsp;a restaurant in which I was working. 
                        Hmmm.</span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">I'm 
                        ignoring Thanksgiving. I may be depressed, but I'm ignoring 
                        that too. I'm just working on this piece of writing 
                        for Aaron's class. I did buy myself some turkey and 
                        cous cous with cranberries. I'll have a nice dinner 
                        tomorrow. &nbsp;I'm going to straighten up the house 
                        today, actually get out of my pajamas and maybe even 
                        walk to the store. &nbsp;That is, If I can peel my fingers 
                        off the keyboard.</span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        23</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                         T</span><span style='font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;font-family:AGaramond'>he
holly daze has begun. Television is rank with American schizophrenia. I've had
the television on for the last two days &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;  ... I don't know why. I watched Friends
last night. Brad Pitt played an old high school friend, who had recently lost weight. 
                        Comments about his beauty dominated. At one point he 
                        becomes upset and starts to ladle piles of sweet potato 
                        onto his plate. Meanwhile,  Joey  eats a whole turkey 
                        and then wants pie. So, gluttony is cute unless you 
                        are one of those people who might gain weight. A commercial 
                        in the middle of all this featured a woman sitting at 
                        a holiday table, smiling contentedly, saying, &quot;I 
                        can't believe I ate so much.&quot; A another woman agrees 
                        and notes that the overeating is particularly wanton 
                        since the first woman is getting married in two weeks. 
                        The ad was for running shoes.  Will &amp; Grace featured 
                        the main characters drinking through the day, while 
                        the maid eats the whole turkey. &nbsp;After all that 
                        toxic imagery I watched ER, which was OK. But, the thin 
                        beautiful doctors fall in love and fat people are invisible. 
                        </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;font-family:AGaramond'> 
                        &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There is a commercial for an airliner 
                        featuring a speech by Bush. It's so offensive. It asks 
                        the question what can Americans do and answers it with 
                        fly on our airline. </span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        24</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                         T</span><span style='font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;font-family:AGaramond'>he 
                        wind is banging against the window. It's such a relief 
                        to  not have to go out side. &nbsp;</span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style='font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;font-family:AGaramond'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I 
                        heard George Will on Book TV the other day. He said 
                        he never has any trouble writing all the columns that 
                        he is called upon &nbsp;to write. He always has an opinion 
                        about something. Although I realize that it's a sexist 
                        and racist remark, it occurred  to me that for a white 
                        man it's not hard to imagine that the world wants to 
                        hear all your opinions. </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style='font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;font-family:AGaramond'>A 
                        while back I decided to do a handwritten journal and 
                        my on-line journal. The last hand written entry was 
                        8/27. Uh huh. Handwriting is a totally different kind 
                        of writing. It's slower. And I'm trying to do things 
                        to stimulate my thinking about writing. Reading usually 
                        gets me going. But, these last few days I've been doing 
                        way too mush screen time! TV &amp; computer.  </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        24</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                         T</span><span style='font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;font-family:AGaramond'>he 
                        wind is banging against the window. It's such a relief 
                        to  not have to go out side. &nbsp;</span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style='font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;font-family:AGaramond'>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I 
                        heard George Will on Book TV the other day. He said 
                        he never has any trouble writing all the columns that 
                        he is called upon &nbsp;to write. He always has an opinion 
                        about something. Although I realize that it's a sexist 
                        and racist remark, it occurred  to me that for a white 
                        man it's not hard to imagine that the world wants to 
                        hear all your opinions. </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style='font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;font-family:AGaramond'>A 
                        while back I decided to do a handwritten journal and 
                        my on-line journal. The last hand written entry was 
                        8/27. Uh huh. Handwriting is a totally different kind 
                        of writing. It's slower. And I'm trying to do things 
                        to stimulate my thinking about writing. Reading usually 
                        gets me going. But, these last few days I've been doing 
                        way too mush screen time! TV &amp; computer.  </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        26</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                         I'm writing a piece about myself as a reader. I have 
                        a solid beginning and a great c losing line. It's all 
                        the stuff in the middle that has me spinning. I have 
                        gotten better at scene writing and dialogue, but I don't 
                        have scenes for everything that I want to say. So, I'm 
                        floundering. Sometimes I think being in this program 
                        is messing with my feelings about my writing in bad 
                        ways. I should also begrudgingly admit that I am improving. 
                        But, I feel constrained. I just want to say what I want 
                        to say and not feel so ...worried about getting it right. 
                        I'm such a c hild sometimes.   </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        27</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                         <a href="http://www.medeaforsenate.org/biography.html" target="_blank">Medea 
                        Benjamin</a> is in Afghanistan. She led a coalition 
                        of women, who are there who talk to the women of Afghanistan, 
                        and ask them what they need. It's an amazing thing to 
                        do. She's in&nbsp;the same part of the country where 
                        journalists were shot. I recently shook her hand at 
                        an event for public  power and thanked her for her work. 
                        I think she's great.   </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I'm 
                        still working on the piece about reading. It's just 
                        coming out so slow! If I didn't like the first two parts 
                        so much I'd trash it and start something else. </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I've 
                        been thinking about love and the way it's portrayed 
                        on TV  and in movies. There is this moment when two 
                        people look at each other, and then look again, and 
                        maybe again, and then it's love. I've always thought 
                        love was about recognition. In my own life I've recognized 
                        people who did not seem to recognize me. Maybe I needed 
                        to maintain the gaze longer. </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        28</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                         I was half watching TV last night after c lass last 
                        night. There was a commercial for Victoria's Secret 
                        in which women in fancy underwear had angel wings and 
                        were flying around. I was suddenly struck with a feeling 
                        of  futility in terms of bucking a notion of beauty. 
                         It took me back to a conversation I had this weekend 
                        with a friend who experienced the darkness of her skin 
                        differently while visiting India. After a few months 
                        of having people say things like, &quot; you're so nice 
                        I don't mind that you're so dark,&quot; she suffered 
                        a drop in self esteem. I have a life time of people 
                        saying &quot; you have such a pretty face, why don't 
                        you loose weight?&quot; &nbsp;And I have angels in under 
                        wear as a standard of beauty to compete with. </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That 
                        was another part of my thinking. I think living in capitalism 
                        has a psychological impact. We experience ourselves 
                        as products. Our beauty, our wisdom, our talents, all 
                        have to compete in the market place. So, competition 
                        becomes a substructure of our self image. </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Understanding 
                        all this doesn't help when it's late, and you're lonely, 
                        and you aren't feeling that good about the piece of 
                        writing&nbsp;that you're doing, and you turn to the 
                        TV and see angels in underwear. Just for a moment I 
                        wanted the power of that beauty. But, that power is 
                        as fleeting as any other market trend.  </span></span></p>
<h1><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;">November 
                        29</span></h1>

                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 
                          My reading went well. I came home wound up and exhausted. 
                        The semester is almost over. I'm feeling a bit confused 
                        about writing. I've been doing so much of the scene 
                        writing and dialogue. I don't remember what my original 
                        intentions about writing were. Just doing it is good. 
                        </span></span></p>
                        <p><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;On 
                        the news last night there were pictures of women being 
                        beaten in Afghanistan. The faces of misery there are 
                        haunting. What are we doing?  <a href="http://www.democracynow.org" target="_blank">Amy 
                        Goodman</a> often plays a song by Edwin Starr, <i>Stop 
                        The War. </i>&nbsp;I love hearing it. It was popular 
                        during the Vietnam war. And now we're at it again. It's 
                        all taken on a layer of tension for me. I feel helpless, 
                        angry, incredulous. </span></span></p>
<h1 align="justify"><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;"><b>November 
                        30</b></span></h1>

                        <p align="justify"><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">New 
site design. I just wanted it to be simpler. Thursdays have become the day on 
which I can never get anything done. So, I played with my SIMS, listened to 
the Supes on the tube, and did this new design. Mine is a kooky virtual life. 
I downloaded a screen saver of George Roualt paintings and last night I dreamed 
about them.  </span></span></p>
<p align="justify"><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">There 
was a big discussion on a proposal to close a section of JFK Drive through Golden Gate park 
on Saturday at the Housing, Transportation and Land Use Committee. It's already 
closed on Sunday. I am always amazed by the people who go to the meetings and 
speak out about things like whether a road will be closed. I'm figuring that 
the closing will be good for people on bikes and skaters, both of whom have 
coalitions. People that oppose it worry about access for the disabled, parents 
with babies and their gear, particularly to the De Young and the Academy of 
Science. It's so interesting, so ardent. I'm all for no car days. </span></span></p>
<p align="justify"><span style='font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:AGaramond'><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:11pt; mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;">George 
Harrison died yesterday. I'd just been talking about how he got sued by the 
people who wrote He's So Fine because his song My Sweet Lord sounded so close. 
I don't really know how that suit went. </span></span></p>
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Anon7 - 2021