The Visible Woman...August 18, 2003

Cleaning up and out and making plans makes you look back and look forward in a lot of ways.

You find stuff you didn't even remember you had (so, of course, you surely don't need it) and you remember where you got it or maybe you wonder where you got it. You check the calendar, scoping out the future. You e-mail to keep up with people. Looking back, looking forward. But what about today?

It was an odd day. I went to the club and met Dad. We are easing into being a part of the water aerobics and gossip club. We like the talk of trips and people, actually.

I sorted old magazines, filed a few things. I found one document that I'd 'lost' and had to get another copy of a while back.

I also started typing entries in paper journals into a computer file. And...tada...I started writing a bad novel. I don't think anything will be become of this novel. In fact, it will probably not escape chapter one...the fate of all the novels I started before. But it is writing and combined with the typing (of the journal entries) it created an illusion of a writer that I hope I can parlay into actually being one. In a way, the journal has been holding that hope. It's been my pixilated commonplace book...a place to store quotes, incidents, emotions, essays and, of course, every morsel that entered my mouth.

Monday, August 18, 2003

A Journal from Austin, Texas. A Project of LBFFP Stealth Publishing.
food	reading	writing	time	exercise	health and mood

stuff found on the street and around the house	looking forward, looking back Cleaning up and out and making plans makes you look back and look forward in a lot of ways. You find stuff you didn't even remember you had (so, of course, you surely don't need it) and you remember where you got it or maybe you wonder where you got it. You check the calendar, scoping out the future. You e-mail to keep up with people. Looking back, looking forward. But what about today? It was an odd day. I went to the club and met Dad. We are easing into being a part of the water aerobics and gossip club. We like the talk of trips and people, actually. I sorted old magazines, filed a few things. I found one document that I'd 'lost' and had to get another copy of a while back. I also started typing entries in paper journals into a computer file. And...tada...I started writing a bad novel. I don't think anything will be become of this novel. In fact, it will probably not escape chapter one...the fate of all the novels I started before. But it is writing and combined with the typing (of the journal entries) it created an illusion of a writer that I hope I can parlay into actually being one. In a way, the journal has been holding that hope. It's been my pixilated commonplace book...a place to store quotes, incidents, emotions, essays and, of course, every morsel that entered my mouth.
JUST TYPING Typing is not writing. But, maybe, it's a warmup.
		Food Diary. *About 11am* four pieces of turkey bacon two slices of American cheese Some grapefruit sections in fruit syrup *About 4pm* the reminder of the tiramisu, a good-sized portion, thus removing the temptation from the household About 7pm-8:30pm [219 W] a vodka gimlet a 2oz. glass of Chateau d'Yquem several tiny bleu cheese tarts, several pates on toast, a couple of seared foie gras on toast About 9:30pm [The Cafe at Four Seasons] 1/3 bottle Cabernet Sauvignon tuna/salmon tartare grilled snapper with risotto and asparagus a couple of little crispy things and a tiny cornbread muffin with sun-dried tomato butter
		Time flies.... I spent time e-mailing people. I spent time filing and sorting magazines and junk. I spent a very pleasant evening socializing with Gayle and FFP and people we bumped into...enjoying food and drink.

		Reading. From the Journals of M.F.K. Fisher. I should extract some quotes from this volume. I read the papers.
		I typed. I actually created a little. It will never see the light of printing, though. But it's a start.
		Exercise An hour of water aerobics. Forty minutes on bike. A few ab exercises and some lower back things.
		Felt fine getting up around 6:30. Felt good all day if a little anxious about the future and things undone. 114/68 72