The Visible Woman Speaks (Coherently?)

Hunger

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 31, 2004 — Most of us don't experience hunger at all or else it's just a mild signal that we haven't eaten in a while. Most of us get our three squares or whatever.

I'm not different. But I do notice that I have this peculiar relationship with food as the clock goes around.

In the morning, I crave coffee. Black, no sugar, no cream, pure dark and strong. I have no real desire for eggs, bacon, cereal, donuts, pastries, breakfast tacos.

As the day wears on, I can eat anything. Around ten I can eat. But if I'm exercising I don't think about it until I finish.

I fill up pretty fast at my first meal of the day. I might eat cereal and yogurt and not think about food for a while. Go about my business, no pangs, no boredom requiring food. I may crave water and coffee.

Then about four I want to eat. How about a plate of nachos, a snack of cheese, some candy? I can eat a snack, then dinner and then have a TV snack. As the hour gets later I'm full, of course, but I can eat for fun with the best of them.

Then midnight or one in the morning and it disappears. Food seems insane. Sometimes I crave coffee, my mouth dry from salty snacks.

I sleep. I wake up. Food seems silly.

I have, years ago, done one day fasts. (Although one day fasts hardly seem to qualify as fasts.) I have felt a little light-headed from hunger in the evenings of these days. I dont' do that anymore because I think fasting is bad for weight control. Of course, I'm convinced that weight control is better controlled on the exercise side.

That hunger sensation...it's a odd and misunderstood thing I think.

We Have Too Much Space

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 30, 2004 — We really do. I know I have trouble finding a clean horizontal surface to pile things on, er, to work on. But we have rooms we don't use for days at a time. I could easily make my office neat by just piling everything in the guest room that is so very rarely used. Right now I'm piling some stuff in there including some presents and some stuff I'm getting ready to give away on Freecyle. We watch TV in our bedroom lots of times. We rarely use the living/dining room except FFP will watch TV there when he uses his massage chair. Today he watched football in the media room (when he wasn't watching it in the kitchen or his office or the bedroom) because he thought I was going to watch videos in the bedroom which I never actually got around to doing.

As we downsize which we are really, really trying to do, as we get rid of stuff we don't need, then, hopefully, this extra space will finally lead us to find a more efficient space. I'm ready.

But for now I'm must relishing this blank desk space I've managed to salvage by dumping a bunch of equipment in my storage room. Yeah, having that storage room is, itself, dangerous.

And, of course, I'm not as productive and focused as I thought a blank space would allow me to be. My eyes wander to stacks of stuff I need to sort and cull. And, of course, there's that attention deficit thing.

Shopping

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 29, 2004 — Shopping is such a strange activity. Sure go to the grocery store and pick up staples or go to the hardware store for something, it's pretty simple. (Only the exact product you want is sometimes missing in action.)

But go for just browsing or buying gifts or something where there are tons of choices like housewares or furniture and it becomes a real dance. I look at catalogs, online, browse through stores. I'm trying to downsize so I try not to want anything for myself particularly if it wouldn't result in getting rid of something else.

And what's in the heads of these other eager shoppers, I wonder. In the middle of a Friday afternoon at Crate and Barrel there were not only west Austin housewives buy young couples. Maybe the guys work a four day week? Or nights? Are out of work?

Shopping used to be more fun for me. When I was on the acquisitive upslope. When I wasn't living off my investments. But the stores find plenty of takers. And I'm sure Crate and Barrel is going to sell those expensive Christmas ornaments in electric colors. But not to me.

Rain Out

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 28, 2004 — Sure we all remember hoping it would snow and we could escape a day of school. I mean, assuming we didn't want to go to school. I usually only wanted to go to school if there was something fun in store. I did all right with class and tests but escaping it seemed fun.

But what's with having an allegedly fun thing (playing tennis) and then finding that it's raining so it will be a no go? And feeling a little relief. Feeling like you have some 'free' extra time in the gym.

Once you commit to something, even something fun, your freedom is curtailed. As that old Kris Kristofferson song, Me and Bobby Magee, said, however, "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to do."

The unscheduled time slot feels great until you get there and then you have to commit and fill it up with something. And if you don't have a dozen choices for that something, then that's just sad.

Handkerchiefs and Contexts

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 27, 2004 — I was reading this old Antaeus issue of journals, notebooks and diaries today and in Edna O'Brien's contribution I found an episode where she discovered an woman who had fallen and the two of them were dabbing at a wound with Kleenex. She said, "Handkerchieves are a thing of the past. Shakespeare would have to rewrite a whole chunck of Othello."

It was true in the eighties when that was written, I guess. Handkerchieves going the way of other things we just no longer see. Now movies always have cell phones and not just answering machines. And people use tissues. The computers have migrated from nothing through room-sized behemoths with whirring nine-track tape to ever more sophisticated graphical wonders (especially in crime labs).

FFP still carries a handkerchief. He's a bit of an anachronism in some ways. If you had such a character in fiction, the handkerchief could represent that certain trait.

My dad hasn't used a handkerchief in years. He switched to tissues in an effort to bring fewer germs home from the hospital in the years he worked as an attendant for the V.A.

Certain things put us into context. The crank phone on Lassie, the little flip phones on some crime show. And we can evoke a reaction with something 'antique,' too. Like the typewriter and giant ornate cash registers.

My Favorite Gadgets

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 26, 2004 — I was thinking today, somewhere in between trying to love my new scanner and install a DVR, that my two favorite gadgets of all time were my portable DVD player and my GPS Navigator. I told my friend SuRu this over lunch. She looked confused. That's because she didn't remember me owning either device.

No, I've thought about buying a portable DVD player for years. Ditto a GPS gadget. I've stuck them on wish lists, looked at ads, scoured the WEB for info. Watched the prices coming down, worried over features. They are just pleasant ideas, they seem perfect in the abstract. There I am on a plane watching an arty film on DVD instead of Waterworld or episodes of Who Loves Raymond [everyone but me, apparently]. Here I am using a GPS gadget to navigate on a trip. Or to do a project with the digital camera where I record the date/time/coordinates and a picture...sort of an all over Austin version of the Harvey Keitel character's project in Smoke. [Aside: why does William Hurt talk that way and can't he stop?]

I don't have to worry about lemons, features, battery life, accessories, though. I don't have to actually carry them. Money and weight are no object. Except in the abstract. The boxes they came in aren't cluttering up my life.

Seriously, of course, I have enjoyed some gadgets. I've gotten a lot of pleasure from a parade of cameras. [Although prints, slides and negatives are cluttering up this office and there are probably gigabytes of pixels stored on this computer.] I like my current cell phone well enough. It's been a trusty friend. (That will probably die tomorrow. Gadget karma, you know.) Without this computer (and the scanner and the cable modem) you wouldn't be reading this. And I couldn't oh so easily shop for gadgets. Most gadgets have been just OK without really delivering on the idea I had for them in my head.

Worse than buying gadgets of your own is buying them for others. Especially elderly parents. How many times have I had to help my mom with some gadget I got for her? My dad occasionally gets crossed up with his TV and cable although generally he stays close to the buttons he knows. I don't think he turns on the TVs in the other rooms...which we just have hooked to cable without the set top box. He carries his cell and even uses it to make some long distance calls but mostly he just keeps it charged up for emergencies. We tried to buy a telephone answering machine and a VCR for FFP's parents. It was a bust, though, they couldn't conquer them.

Yeah, I think I'll keep enjoying a portable DVD player and a GPS gadget in the abstract, by not owning them.

I Haven't Gotten Used to It

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 25, 2004 — I bet you think I'm going to say that I haven't gotten used to leaving the club at a quarter to eleven. After an hour of water aerobics; a few minutes of sitting and having a coffee and talking to Donna, the coffee bar attendant; thirty minutes of recumbent bike and reading: seventy sit-ups and twenty seconds of something else for the abs called 'the plank.' Leaving the club and thinking that I'll have, after I drive home, five hours to shower, groom, go vote and get to my meeting downtown. I bet you think I'm going to say I'm not used to having that chunk of time and wondering what I should do. Should I clean something out? Write? Study for my Visual Basic course? Should I get some stuff posted on Freecycle to get rid of it?

Well, I'm not used to that yet, either. But that wasn't it.

I'm not used to seeing people with these intimate looks on their faces or with their heads down in an attitude of meditation. I'm not used to seeing people quietly (or even loudly) talking to themselves. I'm embarrassed for them. But then I realize they are on cell phones.

I'm still not used to how many vehicles are now giant, hulking things often piloted by a woman with no passengers. A woman who probably weights forty pounds less than I do. They are so high up, these 'passenger' vehicles. I'm just not used to it yet. They look so huge from down here in my Civic.

Socialize or Sit Alone

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 24, 2004 — Some friends of ours said they'd stop by tonight. She was performing for a benefit. They said they were going to leave the thing when the performance was over. They were going to tell the other performers to stop by. We bought a few things to serve if they were hungry.

But while we were sitting in the bedroom, just the two of us, me reading, FFP dozing over football and then baseball, I thought I'd just as soon have an evening alone.

So as the time approached when they said they'd come I had that queer feeling of hoping they would and they wouldn't. If they did, we could visit. We'd pull out some wine, snacks, talk, hear other peoples' opinions. If the didn't, I'd read the Sunday paper on Sunday.

In the end, two then three then four people came by. The first two said no food. But when the next said yes and I started bringing out cheese, vegies, chips, olives, sushi, dips then evertyone dug in. Me included. We socialized, listened to our friends. It's good. But the paper still isn't read.

Good Habits, Bad Habits

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 23, 2004 — We fall into bad habits. Like leaving our socks on the floor or not cleaning up after ourselves or biting fingernails. I used to rub the back of my neck. In fact, I still do that quite a bit, I think. A friend of mine in college rubbed her eyebrows. Rubbed them right off. I suppose I might have rubbed the hair off on my neck but it wasn't as noticeable. I think I suggested to her that she do my habit instead. It just doesn't work that way, however.

I've developed a number of good habits, though. I make the bed up as soon as I get up. I hang my clothes up or put them in the hamper or the basket for the cleaners when I take them off. I put my shoes away especially now that there is a place for every pair in the closet. I put newspapers I've read and that are at least a day old in sacks for recycling. We sort the mail and scoot most of it to recycling right away. I floss. Not well enough to suit my dentist, but still, I do it.

And I exercise regularly. I don't feel complete for a day until I've been to the club to do something or taken a walk or something. It's enough of a habit that when I take a day off, that's OK, too. I don't always do quite enough, skipping this set or cutting the aerobic minutes down or not doing the dreaded ab stuff. But I get there and that's something.

I have a habit of cleaning up the kitchen as soon as I've finished eating. I wash the pots and pans and dishes or put them in the dishwasher. I put stuff away. I wipe the cabinet and stove.

I keep up with my keys and wallet and phone by putting them in the same place, by habit. Even though my office is a disaster, I fight against by, habitually, carrying any stray water bottles or coffee cups to the kitchen whenenver I head that way.

I have plenty of bad habits, too. I start projects more readily than finishing them. I impulsively buy things online sometimes. I buy too many books.

I need to develop some good habits. Like not bringing things into my office without putting them away in a proper place. And getting the day's newspapers read and disposed of in a timely fashion. And spending some time every day writing something besides the journal. And spending some time every day getting my life in order.

Success is all about: do right things, repeat, ad nauseam. Persistence isn't everything. But it is essential. Habits can be bad. But no habit, no good things.

Enjoying it is another matter

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 22, 2004 — Having the time and money to do something is one thing. Enjoying it is another matter. I belong to a country club. I never dreamed I would. I am retired. And I can hang out and play tennis with no worries.

I can go shopping in the middle of the day. Or sit at my computer and write. I can go out bar hopping, confident I can pay the credit card bills for drinks and food.

ween sets, sometimes during them or while I'm riding the bike, I think about how I'm going to do this or that. I think and think. I mull. I meditate. In my mind's eye all is done, all is neat.

Today, I thoroughly enjoyed these things. But sometimes my head isn't in the right place to do it. And that's sad.

Meditation

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 21, 2004 — I read that October is Organization month. Ha. It seems I spend a lot of time thinking about thinking about doing something.

When I finally do something, it's sort of an anti-climax, a let down, at best a denouement. Doing is wrapping up. The thinking part is where I spend my time.

When I'm working out, especially between sets, sometimes during them or while I'm riding the bike, I think about how I'm going to do this or that. I think and think. I mull. I meditate. In my mind's eye all is done, all is neat.

Once in a great while, I do something. Maybe that's why the journal is so important to me. The words spilling out, wrapped up neatly in table areas of screens of HTML code and spit onto WEB servers are something. Everyday something. Instead of just thinking.

One Step at a Time

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 20, 2004 — So, yes, I'm taking the advice of those organization pundits and looking at each item and trying to decide once and for all what to do with it. Well, this has its consequences. If I pick up a catalog that I intend to buy something from, I may succumb to buying something rather than simply letting the catalog sit for a while under a pile until I throw it away. If I pick up an invitation to something, I may decide to attend. If I'd left the invitation under a pile until the date had passed, then well, that's that. And if it were something that cost money, well that's money saved. Procrastination saves money, maybe.

And if I pick up something that needs filing then this sends me looking for folders, the label maker and may cause me to open the can of worms that is my various file cabinets and drawers. This can take a lot of time.

Some scraps of paper and clippings were saved for WEB URLs. I can sink into shopping online, registering at sites, reading blogs or updating my own links collection.

If I do end up shopping, then, when the items arrive on my door step, there is more to deal with. Unpacking. Putting away. Getting rid of the box and packing material.

It's always something. One thing leads to another. And it all leads to clutter. Life is complex and cluttered and it's hard to lead a rich life simply.

But I go on trying.

Controlling the Mess

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 19, 2004 — My home office (the only office a retired person has) is a disaster. The garage is a disaster. What to do?

Oh, and there is a two-foot high stack of newspapers in the kitchen. Growing every day, of course.

Well, I decided that I just must not give up I need to just keep organizing and putting things away and throwing things away and getting tasks done that get things out of the way. Because, really, you can just give up and start making bigger and bigger piles. And that's bad.

But you can be so discouraged that you don't pick up anything because what good would it do. So I started putting away things I had dumped on the floor...tools I'd taken to Dad's for the packing up of things, stuff I'd taken to Denver. I started pawing through the pile in front of my computer. I filled out the form for the passport renewal because the sooner I get that done the sooner the pile will dwindle. I installed a demo of Final Draft because I found the disk sitting here. Then there ensued a bunch of ratting around on my computer organizing the icons and stuff. That's always the way. The organization you do on your computer doesn't show up in the neatness of your office either. But it does matter.

Anyway, I'm going to continue organizing, tossing and straightening. Maybe even dusting. Because if I give up imagine how bad it would look.

Okay, I Miss it. But it's Not Why You'd Think.

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 18, 2004 — Finally, after over two years, I miss working. But not for the reasons you'd think.

I don't miss the social interaction. Oh, I miss people sometimes but then I just go have lunch with them. I can kick up more social interaction than I have time to persue.

I don't really miss the money. I have enough money and, although I worry about it sometimes, I would just give it away if I had more. Although maybe working a few more years would have made us more secure. Because you never know what's going to happen, do you? Can Bill Gates be sure he won't one day need the billions he gives away? What's stopping Michael Dell from fully funding the Long Center? It would be pocket change to him. Is he nervous that his kids will need it one day?

When I worked, I felt like a fraud. Oh, sure, sometimes I felt like I was doing a good job. But other times I just felt I was taking the money and benefits. Don't get me wrong. I don't think I was the most useless or overpaid person ever. Still. So I was kind of glad when I didn't have that feeling hanging over me anymore.

So, why do I miss it now?

Because I miss having an excuse. When I worked, I had an excuse for not doing creative non-work projects. I had an excuse for having a messy office at home. I had an excuse for not getting to things around the house. I had a place I had to go so I had an excuse for not doing errands. Truth be told, I had a convenient excuse if friend, relative or enemy wanted me to do something I didn't want to do. I was always telling myself that when I retired I would write, learn new things, do various volunteer things, exercise a bunch, accomplish things. Until I retired I had an excuse.

Yep. I miss having an excuse. But I'm not going to go out and get a job. No. I'm going to try to either work on accomplishing more or learn to live with what I do manage to get done.

Still More Things I Didn't Write Essays About

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 17, 2004 — More unwritten essays.

Those Little Stories who Can Tell in Case you are on a Panel Discussion or just need Coffee Talk
What I Lack is Experience
Why not Poetry?
Do we really need an audience?

I might actually write one of these, one of these times.

Various Thoughts

AUSTIN, Texas, Oct. 1-14, 2004 — Naturally, I've been thinking in essays. I always do. Well in essay titles anyway. Sometimes after the title I'm just done with it. I'm letting myself off from crafting a bunch of small, coherent (well, you know, maybe) pieces, though, and I'm just going to list a bunch of titles I thought of doing essays about. Maybe I'll get to some of them later.

I'm going to go somewhere with some or all of these topics. I really am. I wanted to get them down so I could look at them and post my wayward journal and get back to business as usual. (Ha!) And then examine them.

So imagine little essays on these topics. How good a reader are you? Do you alreay know what I might say? (Notice: not one item relating to possessions! I'm improving.)