Month: February 2003

stewing in my subconscious

This update is simply to note that I haven’t written any NaNoWriMo blog entries in a great while. Also, I haven’t worked on the novel since November. It’s stewing. Yeah, that’s it: it’s stewing in my subconscious.

New political developments threaten daily to make the novel obsolete, a problem I will have to tackle when I return to writing.

It also occurs to me that November is a terrible month in which to attempt to write an entire novel. The first and most obvious strike against November is that it only contains 30 days. Second, it contains Thanksgiving—many people travel for Thanksgiving. At the very least, they’re probably spending several hours on Thursday dealing with a large meal, family, friends, or even all three. Third, the beginning of November is almost always the craziest time of year for anyone who participates (beyond simply voting) in this country’s system of electing its representative officials. Even if that represents only a small percentage of the population, it’s still quite significant to them. In contrast, January beats November hands-down for all of the above reasons. It’s 31 days long—the maximum. It doesn’t typically feature an election. Best, it usually contains two holidays (New Year’s Day and Martin Luther King Day) that don’t feature quite as much travel as Thanksgiving. (This is not to minimize the importance of Martin Luther King Day, of course.)

[Note: a form of this blog entry originally appeared in my November 2002 NaNoWriMo blog, “Notes on the Text.” I’ve now moved all of those entries into the “Imagine a Novel Weblog” category of this blog.]

“I’m paying in pain. And in dollars.”

I wonder if anyone in the Bush administration has read the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

I went to the peace rally in San Francisco this past Sunday. It was pretty great to see so many people there—apparently even more than the last time. I actually spent most of the time I was there (about 3 hours) sitting at the CLCV table. I got there about 3 or 4 hours after my co-worker Josh did. We (and Sara & Betty Jane, two other people I work with) handed out 1,000 “Action Alerts” asking people to call Gov. Davis (very much a freak) and ask him to sign a particular environmental bill (AB 10x) that would require that polluting companies actually pay fees to fund environmental cleanup programs. In a more perfect world, of course, they already would.

Funny, reading the analysis of the bill, I discovered that such luminous entities such as the National Aerosol Association and Sherwin-Williams (you know, “Cover the Earth“) have registered their formal opposition to the bill. That’s practically reason enough to support it.

I also hurt my back again the other day. No big deal. I think it’ll slowly get better again. I ordered an extra foam pad to put on top of my (inadequate) futon. My advice: don’t buy a cheap futon mattress, because you’ll pay for it later. In my case, I’m paying in pain. And in dollars (which I don’t have). Ow.

I’ve recently begun reading Divorce Your Car! (reviews here), a book I bought when I lived in Minneapolis but never quite got around to reading until now. (Obviously, getting rid of my car is a much more practical idea for me now that I live in the East Bay rather than chilly, public-transportation-challenged Minneapolis.) I’m thinking about it. But how will I make those late-night grocery and fast food runs? I hate to admit it, but I’m beginning to think that the idea of “planning ahead” is just the slightest bit foreign to me.

rushing headlong

Senator Robert C. Byrd, Jr. of West Virginia is famous for his oratory and is the last of a dying breed. He made an impassioned speech to the Senate Wednesday that, in my eyes, makes him a true hero and patriot. (Here’s what he said about the Homeland Security Bill in December.)

Meanwhile, here’s what some of the rest of the English-speaking world thinks about our scheduled war:

I thought September 11th was frightening, but this is much, much worse. I’m extremely angry that our selected president is rushing us headlong into a glorified family feud and a war for oil. No one can really predict right now what the almost certainly dire consequences will be. (Hyperbole? Naah.)

Happy Valentine’s Day.

See you at the peace march on Sunday.


I sure picked a great time to quit my job. Oops.

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