The Visible Woman...March 18, 2003

It was just an odd day, it was. My first task was to take Chalow to get her stitiches out and help hold her while they did it. She had a lot of stitches but she's healed well and she wasn't too uncomfortable getting them out.

I went to the club and did 30+ minutes on the bike and then met with the fitness director to learn the other new exercises for my regime. It will take some time to feel comfortable with it, I think.

On maid days, Tuesdays, I dodge the maid so that I won't get in the way. I think she dodges me, too. I heat some vegetarian barbecue for lunch. (A local product made from wheat roast.) I do some e-mail back and forth with some buds, edit some pictures (foolishly thinking I'll catch up this journal).

The Texas Lotto is up to 35 million or something. I decide to buy some tix. I know, I know...we are more likely to be struck by lightning than to win. I walk to the convenience store and buy some tickets. Then I go up to the branch library to have a look around. I take my ancient library card. The lady says I've been 'purged' but makes me a new card on the spot and gives me a keychain card, too. I look around the library but don't check anything out.

Since I am retired I think that I should see more of the nominated films for this year's Oscars. I've done pretty well. But I'd like to see The Quiet American. I mention to FFP that it is playing at the Dobie. We decide to go. First we eat some catfish and spinach salad. Then we go down to the 'drag' (Guadalupe Street near the UT campus) and find a parking place. We shop a little. We buy a couple of things in the venerable Cadeau and then some books in Barnes & Noble. We get a copy of The Quiet American. I'm sure we have it and I'm sure I've read it years and years ago.

We go to the ultra weird and eccentric Dobie and watch the movie. It's excellent.

We consider going somewhere afterward. A grackle lands a poop on my shoe as we walk on the drag. We go into Eckerd's to get some Kleenex. There is a long line. We go home. So go things sometimes.

			a strange and wonderful day It was just an odd day, it was. My first task was to take Chalow to get her stitiches out and help hold her while they did it. She had a lot of stitches but she's healed well and she wasn't too uncomfortable getting them out. I went to the club and did 30+ minutes on the bike and then met with the fitness director to learn the other new exercises for my regime. It will take some time to feel comfortable with it, I think. On maid days, Tuesdays, I dodge the maid so that I won't get in the way. I think she dodges me, too. I heat some vegetarian barbecue for lunch. (A local product made from wheat roast.) I do some e-mail back and forth with some buds, edit some pictures (foolishly thinking I'll catch up this journal). The Texas Lotto is up to 35 million or something. I decide to buy some tix. I know, I know...we are more likely to be struck by lightning than to win. I walk to the convenience store and buy some tickets. Then I go up to the branch library to have a look around. I take my ancient library card. The lady says I've been 'purged' but makes me a new card on the spot and gives me a keychain card, too. I look around the library but don't check anything out. Since I am retired I think that I should see more of the nominated films for this year's Oscars. I've done pretty well. But I'd like to see The Quiet American. I mention to FFP that it is playing at the Dobie. We decide to go. First we eat some catfish and spinach salad. Then we go down to the 'drag' (Guadalupe Street near the UT campus) and find a parking place. We shop a little. We buy a couple of things in the venerable Cadeau and then some books in Barnes & Noble. We get a copy of The Quiet American. I'm sure we have it and I'm sure I've read it years and years ago. We go to the ultra weird and eccentric Dobie and watch the movie. It's excellent. We consider going somewhere afterward. A grackle lands a poop on my shoe as we walk on the drag. We go into Eckerd's to get some Kleenex. There is a long line. We go home. So go things sometimes.

	SoCo window "On several occasions I have actually read parts of my diary aloud to someone. But too much 'publicity' is destructive to a diary, because the diarist begins, unconsciously perhaps, to leave out, to tone down, to pep up, to falsify experience, and the reason for the undertaking becomes buried beneath posings." Gail Godwin, A Diarist on Diarists
	JUST TYPING There is an oddly familiar ring. To the French Viet Nam. To the American idealism. A place I've never been. Never near. But a conscious place in my mind.

Tuesday, March 18, 2003