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: Sinking slowly into existential pain.

I bought yards of blue ribbon to make Win Without War pin ons, and I gave away almost all I made. Midge Ladd asked if I thought we'd be "allowed" to wear a political statement. I pointed out that our employer doesn't know we exist, and if they don't like our politics, tough. We don't like theirs either.

I think Rachel might be on the front page of the newspaper, protesting the war at UCLA. She's kind of small in the back of the picture.

Like a line from "Pale Horse, Pale Rider" (on the which I did my thesis): "She had a burning slow headache, and noticed it now, remembering she had waked up with it and it had in fact begun the evening before. While she dressed she tried to trace the insidious career of her headache, and it seemed reasonable to suppose it had started with the war."

Marlene and I listened to some of Bush's speech and then went to Jacalito's for dinner. I feel so helpless, trying to make a statement by pinning on a ribbon. As if.


© 2001-2006 Frances Whitney.