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<p><span style="font-family:AGaramond; font-size:12pt;"><b>November</b></span></p>
<p>"<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." -</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;"> 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;"> The
phrases "<i>credible threat" "be alert"
"live normally"</i> -- are taking on the quality
of repetitive practical joke. 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;"> 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 "have" 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;"> 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. 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&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;"> 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. 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;">
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. 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. I'm reading more
of it. My language is often shaped by what I'm reading.
I've been reading <i>Political Fictions </i> 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> 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;">
Another crazy election. 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 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;">
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 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 "was just great!"
Paltrow was put at ease. The movie is obviously one
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;">
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;">
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;">
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> -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;">
The first time I saw the mouse, it ran out from behind
the 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. 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. 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;">
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> 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. 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;">
I wasn't going to write about <i>Shallow Hal. </i> 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 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 "make up for" 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;">
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 know there are ones where
you get the mouse and then walk it 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;">
The movies
were interesting. The first one, <i> Skin Deep,
</i> 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;">
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;">
I dreamt about Hillary Clinton. ??? She and Bill were
visiting 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. I'm going to straighten up the house
today, actually get out of my pajamas and maybe even
walk to the store. 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;">
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 ... 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, "I
can't believe I ate so much." 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 & Grace featured
the main characters drinking through the day, while
the maid eats the whole turkey. 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'>
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;">
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. </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'> 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 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 & 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;">
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. </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'> 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 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 & 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;">
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;">
<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 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;"> 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;"> 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;">
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, " you're so nice
I don't mind that you're so dark," she suffered
a drop in self esteem. I have a life time of people
saying " you have such a pretty face, why don't
you loose weight?" 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;"> 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;"> 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 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;">
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;"> 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> 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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