March 24th, 2002

Roman

headache

I woke with another headache. More of a foggy type, not localized. I feel okay now, did take some Excedrin migraine. I think if I take no more than two and don't take them for days and days my stomach should be able to handle it.
  • Current Music
    Chopin's etudes, op 10 and 25
Roman

my body is my enemy

I really don't get why my body is so desperate to stay at this particular weight. I have tried the tricks, changing routines and food, and I keep bouncing around the same general weight. I think I need a more drastic change but don't know what it would be.
  • Current Music
    Peter Gabriel's Passion
Roman

reading thinking wondering

I have been reading Nickel and Dimed (simultaneously with Loving Picasso) and thinking about it. The writer entered the low-wage world to find out what it was like, and writes of her experiences, and they sound so much like Mary's experiences. At one point everything reaches a head and she simply walks out.

How many times I have told Mary don't do that. Hold on, give notice, do the right thing. And she has done that more often lately. But here I was finding it a fault in her that she would let the places get to her and walk out. And she, too, felt this way, always regretted her rash acts. I was asking a hell of a lot of her.

How does anyone ever get out of that hole? Mary wonders, too. She has been going to school, picking up core courses, but has not happened on an area she wants to live and work in. I don't know what to suggest. She could do some modelling but that is short-term and she may be "too old" at (almost) 24.
Roman

getting out

I get so isolated on weekends. I am going out now. Ostensibly to look at possible gifts for Mary's birthday, but as much to be in contact with others.
Roman

missing kitty

My indoor cat, Simba, is missing. He doesn't know anything about outdoors. The back door opened in the wind today because the latch was apparently not completely caught, and I didn't notice until I went back there and saw the door wide open. I have no idea where Simba might have gone. On the plus side, this is a quiet part of the mobile home park, there isn't usually fast traffic or much traffic. So he's not likely to get hit. But it's also next to a large field that must be tempting for cats. He could have gone there. I just hope he has the sense to come back here soon. Fortunately, he has a chip implanted in him. If he gets too far off there's hope he'll be found and returned.
Roman

Enjoying my privilege

This afternoon I went downtown with my copy of Nickel and Dimed and sat reading it outside Starbuck's with a ginger ale from Mondeo. Mondeo makes its own ginger ale, very gingery and good. I couldn't help thinking that there I was in yuppieland downtown, sipping my ale, watching all the other privileged folks eating and drinking and wandering through, while I read this book. It wasn't so much ironic as what you might even expect: that I am the liberal comfortable middle-class person reading about those who work at the low end of the scale and feeling justifiably angry about their mistreatment. And no doubt the vast majority of those reading this book are just like me.

I think what I like most about the writer is that she very consciously considers where she really is, who she really is, does not inflate her position or flaunt her superior education. She not only respects the people she works with, she becomes them, as much as she is able. And knows that she is truly not in their position at the same time. She knows she is a fake.