Monday, Mar. 17, 2003 / 8:42 p.m.

~New Pajamas~

I've just put on my new pajamas I bought last week at Tarzhay. I finally washed them yesterday. They're hard to describe, the pattern, lavendar with sort of darker lavendar squiggly lines, and scattered here and there are slivers of moons and shooting stars and hearts, more squiggly lines inside them. Lavendar on the yellow moons, lavendar on the light blue stars, and lavendar on pink and blue and lavendar hearts. Solid yellow stars too. A size too big to prepare this time for shrinkage. They're just right.

Before I put them on I sat on the sofa with Norman on my lap, light glowing from my cherry wood shaded lamp in the dining room, the old lamp in the living room, the one with the three-way bulb, set to the lowest wattage, I think it's 50 watts, and the TV on which the image was of George W Bush, American flags behind him or to his sides, I don't even remember, and the sound of his voice, slower as he went on in the 14 minutes he spoke, soothing, soft, quiet.

I stroked Norman's fur, thinking I don't really pat her enough, I always just let her sit, curl up and go to sleep. She is cranky, tends to bite when I'm touching her as she would prefer I don't, and I'm not always warned. Sometimes I think it's a preemptive strike on her part.

I tried to imagine other people, in their living rooms, after their big salads like I ate, or their roast chicken, or their Taco Bell takeout, or McD's, or meatloaf maybe, or pizza on a rainy Monday night, also watching, but I quickly realized they most likely weren't. They most likely are sick of the whole thing, don't want to even think about it, can't really even imagine the fear in the eyes of children their own children's ages in Iraq, as their parents might be privy to the translated message Bush directed at them.

Soft, soothing, we have to do this, yes, yes, lull me into believing it, but you can't hypnotize me, I know what I know, and I believe Howard Zinn more than I believe you, and I respect his opinon on Jim Lehrer's little political chat fest post speech. I listen to reason and logic and reality, not fantasy and propaganda.

I ate the last huge salad before I shop more. Celery, green onions, red and green bell pepper, sliced grape tomatoes, olives (green ripe, taste like black ripe, but they're green, so very odd), chopped dill Havarti, red leaf lettuce, Cool Hand Luke's roasted garlic parmesan dressing, the flavor so perfect I wanted to keep eating it forever, but it was gone too soon. And watched "Felicity", an episode I've seen so many times, the infamous second year Thanksgiving dinner party during which Noel has too much punch and Felicity freaks because David confesses to 'falling in love' with her, and so Felicity and Noel kiss, and are caught by David's mother, who just so happens to be Felicity and Noel's art teacher, and the drama ensues.

We'll be killing people in 48 hours.

The woman, the diplomatic historian (what the hell is that?) paused when confronted with that issue. Yes, what about what Howard Zinn asked, what about the deaths of Iraqi civilians? And US military personnel? What about them? Um, right, well, Hussein leaves us no choice, we are at an impasse, it's his fault.

Zinn says we are killing Hussein's victims. Zinn, I love you. I've read your essays so many times, they're emailed to me regularly through the list servs, but never have I seen you, listened to you, you are old. You and Ramsey Clark say the wrong words at times, like I do, but worse. You mentioned the 'cities and villages of Baghdad', but Baghdad is a city. It's a huge city, of some 4 million people, I believe I heard recently.

I forgive your verbal indiscretion becauase you speak of logic and common sense that is no more common than intelligence or ability to think for one's self.

I don't think I can walk out of my job when the war begins. I don't think I can call in sick. I don't think I can be so self-sacrificing as to lose my job, or my own comfort. There is a call for general walkouts, and that word that means 'to hit', which I won't write here because I don't want someone looking for information to come here instead. This is not the information page, this is my diary.

This is my diary. And in it I am writing that I fear for the world right now. I fear for the people of this country, and what wrath may be incurred upon us as a result of this very bad decision, and for the people of Iraq, and Kuwait, and Iran, and Turkey, and even for those in the Palestinian territory (funny how the story about the American woman who sat in front of an Israeli bulldozer to protest, and was consequently bulldozed and killed - yesterday? - has been silenced....) and Israel. I really don't believe this is going to help anything, I really believe that at least in the short term a lot of blood will be shed, and many, many people will suffer and die.

I'm not angry, I'm furious, I'm sad, I'm fearful and I'm so very disappointed.

And I'm wearing my pajamas and sitting with cats on the sofa to watch "Married By America", because I want to forget, now, because I feel so helpless, because I am helpless, and it's better for me to forget, now, and fight later, not that peace should be 'fought' for, but maybe a day of mourning is in order on Wednesday, whether I walk out, or call in sick, or just join the throng after work, or just light a candle and put it in a window. Because this is so horribly wrong, everything has gone horribly wrong.

Cost of the War in Iraq
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