June 6

A weighty discussion

1965

Went to see “Satan Bug” with T. It was good! It was about germ warfare. George Maharis was in it and I HATE him.

Comment 2023

Aw, what did George Maharis ever do to you? A closeted gay man in the bad old days of Hollywood? And the poor man just died on May 24 of this year!!!!! I apologize on behalf of my immature self.

1977

2023 reminder: When we last saw our heroine, she was wondering if Jacob Riis accomplished what he intended with his work.

The answer is yes, and more. He did not even consider himself a photographer, yet he has since been honored as one. His own story is incredible, as a poor immigrant in NYC.

Today I went to the Library of Congress. And was I impressed! What a place, what a library; doors delivered to your desk. More books than I can even imagine. Boy, did I have fun!

1978

I have promises to keep: to myself, to do all the things I said I would do. The exercise program continues. I did 1/2 hr with Lilias and 40 minutes of biking today. (Unfortunately, I got a flat tire on the way home, so my cycling is cut short.)

Tomorrow I want to get and earlier start. (Didn’t get to campus until 9:30, instead of 9. I also want to get even 1/2 an hour of French reading done; this has to be done regularly, before I forget all I learned. I should also read some economics. I should actually stop writing about it and go do it.

It’s a great lazy evening, though, cool and breezy after a comfortably warm day. I got a really nice letter from Mom today; she seems to be improving immeasurably. What a relief.1979

Measurement time again. If anyone reads this years from now, they’ll think I did this all the time. Not so. Only now and then. In fact, I haven’t measured since the end of February.

Hips: 40 (Egad!)

Thighs: 23 1/2

Yesterday I swam; today I will walk, I think. (No time to swim, if I want to be home this afternoon. Pool is open from 3-8 pm.)

1980

The end of a very pleasant week. It started out terribly hot and humid. Then we had a terrific storm on Tuesday and it cooled off a bit and got much drier.

This week I finally started my garden. This “public” gardening is so embarrassing. (Our neighbors look on as I scratch and sow. My one sorry row is nearly entirely sown:

*carrots*beans*fennel*tomatoes*

They all got watered and fed. I added sand to the clay-ey soil, to make it lighter, particularly for the carrots. The small seeds that were sewn in front of the house mostly got washed out, much to my disappointment. It’s been a very wet spring.

Comment 2023

Both of my grandfathers was amazing gardeners (Pop Pop was also a beekeeper.) My brother, living hours north of Toronto, is an avid - and successful - gardener. Kiddo 1 not only tends a mini farm in her suburban back yard, but is also an expert in native plants. Kiddo 2 has grown hops on his porch. Me? I try.

1998

A lovely, sunny Saturday! I will spend a certain amount of time driving around today, but I can live with it.

It’s amazing how quickly Nature transforms the backyard into lush greenness. It seems only a few weeks ago…was it even longer?…I could clearly see the the tree branches against the sky. Now the most vivid aspect of my view is the sunlight splotching the leaves and grass. I can hear birds chirping, the drone of an airplane, and the radio playing Mozart off in the distance.

I realize now that my pleasures are seasonal. My affection for “changes” sounds very wintered. It’s time for The Artists Way again, for summer.

2013

Strange beginning. I am working on the book, making progress. Still, I feel behind and anxious. I’ll feel better when I have a full draft of a chapter done. Any chapter. I am still playing catch-up with the research and that is what makes me worried. I don’t feel really engaged yet. I am working dutifully, trusting that passion will come. I hope that people will care about this topic, but I know it won’t be at the level that they did with Pink and Blue. This time it feels like I am finding questions, not just answering them. Challenging and ultimately exciting.

2016

My mind has been busy. Busy enough that I left my keys and i.d. in my office last week. I have been writing, posting and scheduling blog posts like a crazy woman, and am finally getting traffic to my personal page. I weighed myself this morning and it said 200. How can that happen when I have 3 good days and 2 not-so-good days? Unfair!

I am reconciling myself to the reality that Shah Rukh Khan will never kiss my neck, look into my eyes, or reply to my tweets. So sorry, 15-year-old Jo. Crushes are still futile. The one thing that doesn’t change with age. Unattainable celebrities are still unattainable. I just have better taste.

The weekend was socially good, but not entirely productive. The boy/blue article is cooking, but actual writing is slow. The only thing it has going for it is that it only needs to be 2000-2500 words, which is not long. I took a wrong turn at the beginning, thinking it was going to be a remix of my work on pink and blue. In fact, it will be more strongly connected to the chapter “A Boy is Not a Girl”. Maybe there’s a book 4 after all. That feels oddly right. To end up where I started, boys and men.

Time will tell. I am settling into summer now. Less frantic, more focused. I just wish I weighed 30 pounds less. I wish my knees didn’t hurt and that my stomach didn’t rest on my thighs when I sit at my desk.

I wish someone would see my work and give me a MacArthur grant. That won’t happen either. The good thing - - GREAT, in fact - - is that I don’t need $$ to do my work. I just need time and my health. Not knowing how much time I have is an issue, since my tendency is to procrastinate and play when I should be working. But look at me now! Morning pages again! Reading! Thinking! Writing! Blogging! Maybe even getting to the pool today for a swim. 200 fucking pounds, Jo!

I do not like the way I look, and I do not care if that is cultural or not. I want to be visible in a good way. I don’t want to be sexy, but I don’t want people to avert their eyes, either. I can feel their eyes slide away from my jowly chin. I can tell the disapproval of my fleshy old lady arms. I can sense the shock when meeting old friends and former students. Yes, I am old. Or older. Thank heaven for friends who are older, who remind me that it ain’t over, and I am still a young’un until I am the oldest one in the room all the time. Then what? What will that be like? Better or worse than being the youngest one in the room? I sort of remember that, being patronized and dismissed. Perhaps being the oldest is the same, but less fuckable?

I need to pee and then get on with the day. So much to do. Including write, swim, get groceries.

No more Candy Crush.

Comment and current situation, 2023

There is is again. When I wasn’t stressing out about getting more organized, I posted about my weight and my measurements (waist, hips, and thighs, especially). I do edit/censor these journals when the content would be hurtful to others. Should I also omit the parts that reveal my most embarrassing weaknesses? Right, now, the answer feels like “no”. So yes, I have worried about gaining weight since I was in my late twenties. I still do. I know it’s possible to be fat and healthy, but the older I get, the more I wonder if that is true as we age. I live in a retirement community, and can see the toll that extra weight takes on knees and hips. I’ve felt it personally. When the scale goes about 180, my knees start to complain, and they get louder the heavier I am. Being heavier makes it easier for me to sit than to get up and move. Every activity I enjoy - movies, reading, writing, knitting -  is sedentary. I’ve gained 10 pounds with each book, including the one I haven’t finished (which is very unfair!)

My main reaction when I read my very old posts is chagrin: what I wouldn’t give to have those 40 inch hips. Or to have appreciated them when I had them!