Thursday, 1 April 1999 (into the night)
9:41am
April Fool's Day. Yeah, whatever. Probably not a day I should be coming out to anyone.
So, naturally, I just did to my supervisor. He'd caught a glimpse of this page
yesterday while I was working on it—recognized the picture as me, anyway—and
I didn't want to go into it then because we were all about to head out, so I thought
I'd just get it the hell out of the way. I'm already out to a number of people here
anyway. I didn't go into too much detail, but enough, and I showed him the pictures
from last week. Seemed like the thing to do, particularly because I don't quite
feel comfortable giving him this URL (and he didn't ask). There is such a thing as
TMI; eventually I'll be out to everyone, no objection to that, but I'd just as soon
this page didn't become common knowledge around the office.
He did comment that during that when I was hired, it was observed that I was by
far the strangest looking person there—but I was also the best person for
the job, and that was what mattered. And, besides, it's San Francisco. *whew*
Oh, I love this city...
11:36am
Something is different. I don't know what it is. (And no, I'm not referring to
the picture, or to having come out to my supervisor.) But something has changed or altered
or shifted.
Probably I'm just imagining things.
12:57pm
There's a war going on.
I know we're bombing someone, anyway. American soldiers have been taken hostage and are
being shown on TV. Whoever the Bad Guy is (not Hussein, not Khadafy, not any of the
recent neo-Hitlers who've been threatening democracy or whatever), he's on the cover of
Time (Newsweek?) with a bullseye over his face. Makes it seem like a war
to me, at least based on my comparatively limited experience with the word. Then again,
I grew up being told that the next war would be nuclear and it'd be over before
I was really aware it had begun.
That didn't happen, then the Gulf War came along. Desert Fucking Storm. I didn't like
that, not one bit. It all seemed very very wrong. If you opposed the war, you were
unpatriotic, and man oh man, there was nothing worse than being unpatriotic. Not
"supporting the troops," a phrase which had no connection to real word, was a heinous
crime. So I said I supported the troops but opposed the war, something of a cop-out.
There were times, though, when I wished there would be a wholesale slaughter of American
soldiers in hopes that outrage would result in us getting the hell out of there.
Or that the disgusting uber-patriotism which had infected would go down just a notch.
But no, were restoring our national pride, we were making up for Vietnam, we were showing
that Bush wasn't a wimp, we were guaranteeing that gas prices wouldn't skyrocket.
On that note: gas prices in the city are currently ~$1.80 for 87. This is allegedly
becuase of the recent shutdown at the Tosco Oil Refinery after a fatal accident. Instead
of accepting the losses of profit due to their negligence, the oil companies are fucking
the consumer. Why? Because they can. Because we let them. Before the shutdown, gas
prices topped out at $1.50 or so. Before the Gulf War, which even the government admitted
was partially over oil, I seem to recall it being just under a dollar. So what had been
the point of that damn war?
I am so sickened by this country and its government and the culture which allows it to
continue...
But now we're bombing and sloganeering and doing god knows whatever else all over again.
And it isn't even in the same direction as during the impeachment, which I'm pretty sure
was Iraq. Indeed, that it isn't Iraq this time is about all I really know for certain.
And I don't want to know more.
Withdrawal in disgust is not the same as apathy. It's still a
dangerous attitude because it ostensibly allows the bad people to continue
doing their bad things. But they're going to be doing their bad things regardless
of whether I'm a CNN junkie or completely fucking ignoring it all like I am now.
I was hanging on every word during Desert Storm and it didn't make a difference,
so what does it matter now? Why not, as Pete suggested, dance it away?
4:30pm
The Alanis show is tonight. The Ex is probably heading in that direction at this
moment.
Break's over next week: I simply have to start going to the gym again. My weight's somehow
stayed at about 180 lbs. for the last two months, despite having worked out very irregularly
and a significantly increased appetite. My goal is 160. Not that I'm overweight, not anymore,
but I'm still heavier than I want to be.
And my doctor would seem to agree, having re-upped my Meridia from 5mg back to 10mg.
Ah, Meridia. My dark little secret. I'll tell anyone who cares to know about
anything else I'm ingesting, but that I tend not to be so open about. Embarrassment? In a manner
of speaking, I suppose. It seems like cheating.
Basically, it's a space-age appetite suppressant. Rather than make you not hungry, it makes you feel
full more quickly. Interesting approach, huh? It's one thing to eat when you're not hungry (many of
us do); it's another to continue when you're full.
My doctor prescribed it when I started hormones, in September. 10mg a day. I was at 230; by January I was down to
180. And one of the most common side effects of hormones is weight gain, so losing weight is unlikely
at best, particularly that much.
Was it just the Meridia? No, not hardly. That was also when I went into a fairly intense workout regimen;
at least five days a week, six if possible, at least two hours a day. Hour on the treadmill, plus stairmaster,
cross-trainer and a hundred crunches. Plus lots and lots of water, and nonfat milk and orange juice were
just about the only other things I drank. I've been off sodas since '97 anyway, I don't care for
coffee or coffee-oriented drinks, and I get no kick from champagne. I'm also quite the salad fiend, so I'd
usually have a big salad (or The Big Salad, if you prefer) for dinner. Can of slim-fast for lunch, nonfat
yogurt for breakfast. Bagels and granola bars for snacking purposes. When feeling the need to really cut
loose, nonfat ice cream. Up until the beginning of the year I was getting stoned nearly every night, so
carrots and nonfat ranch dressing were an important munchie staple. My pot intake has decreased dramatically
since The Ex and I broke up because it just makes me that much more depressed—I smoke
maybe every other
week, and very seldom enjoy it—so that certainly helps. And I was taking the Meridia.
So when I saw my doctor in January my weight had dropped to 180. We decided to reduce the dosage from 10mg
to 5mg. Two primary reasons: I figured my will, which usually serves me well, could take over (and bear in
mind that while you get full faster, you're still hungry for the same kind of stuff, so it still took a
degree of will to eat healthy to begin with); and I was hurting monetarily, so half the dosage should be
half the price, right?
I made a lot of mistakes in January.
Even before I went from 10mg to 5mg, my appetite returned in a huge way. It was almost frightening. And I
wasn't even smoking grass anymore. Even more fun, the cost for 5mg rather than 10mg? Exactly the same.
Fucking goddamn money-grubbing pharmaceutical industry. Almost as bad as the oil companies.
Yet, somehow my weight managed to stay right around 180. It went up maybe five pounds during zapping,
but that was mostly due to swelling and dropped back down. And who knows, I've been dancing a lot. Maybe that helps.
I didn't expect my doctor to agree to increase the dosage back to 10mg, but she was more than willing, thank
you india. I don't see it as a reason to get complacent, either. Since I'll have that at full throttle,
I intend to amp up the exercise, too. I want a flat stomach and to lose out my facial chunkiness. I want
my mother to have no choice but to comment on my weight the next time she sees me.
And she will.
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