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1�0�101010�0�1 2003-01-23, 2:23 p.m.

discombobulated


I haven't felt much like updating the past few days. Not sure why. I'm feeling some anxiety about work and money and other things. I have the January blahs. I'm all pumped up about possibly pursuing a part-time MFA starting next fall, then immediately jump to the conclusion that I'll ruin my marriage if I do anything that ambitious, and I start spiraling. All these sort of negative emotions that I just really don't have the energy to deal with by exploring them in my diary.

So this entry will be one of random observations and happenings. And none of it will mean anything. And I prefer it that way.

###

Lots of people in my life seem to be having tooth problems lately. My mom, about four coworkers, and my hair stylist, all down with pulled wisdom teeth or swollen gums or emergency oral surgery of some kind. It's one of those coincidences that means absolutely nothing, but is weird just the same.

###

Today when I went outside for lunch I kept seeing people who looked like people I know. People who live on the East Coast and have absolutely no reason to be walking down the street in San Francisco.

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I just finished writing a press release about this cool ring, and it feels strangely good to be writing about jewelry again, after all this time.

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My mother is wearing purple to my wedding. I'll turn her into a feminist yet. Go Mom.

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I've been thinking about putting my stepparents' names on our wedding invitations. A. thinks it's weird. I need to break out the etiquette book again.

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Yesterday's anniversary of Roe v. Wade reminded me of what a little cropped-haired activist I fancied myself to be in college. My entire freshman and sophmore year I had a sign in my dorm room window, which you could see all over the green I lived on on campus, that said "I AM THE FACE OF PRO-CHOICE AMERICA."

Why don't I do stuff like that anymore? Why did I choose to go eat a gourmet burrito and buy Aveda products on Saturday rather than participate in the anti-war march?

###

I'm writing a story that's not-so-loosely based on a man I've know at different phases of my life. And already wondering: if for some reason this story turns out to be really good, and I publish it, will he put a hit out on me?

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It now costs $96 roundtrip to take Amtrak from New York Penn Station to Philly. It wasn't very long ago that the same trip was about $75. I'm flying to NYC to meet A. for the weekend in early March, but he's going to be busy with a work function all day on a Thursday, and I'm thinking about riding down and getting a burger and margarita at Copabanana with the Krabby Grrls.

###

A. informed me this morning that I use phrases that he's never heard before in his life. Like, when I'm talking about changing the gemstone in a ring (for instance), I say "switch out the gemstone in the ring."

Or when we're driving in the car, and I'm trying to tell him something is further up the street, I say that it's "on up."

He doesn't understand my strange foreign language.

Then again, this is a young man who says he's "putting up tea" or "putting up soup" on the stove. Not sure where that one came from (his parents say it too).





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