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2001-10-29 | 10:56 p.m.

Note to Frank, who does not read my diary: You're right. This book does look like the inside of somebody's closet.

Feeling down-hearted because I'm such a lily-livered coward. I'm afraid of everything and everybody. I wonder, Was I always like this? I used to ride a motorcycle. Not that that means anything.

I started a mailing list, and now the people on it scare me, but what can I do? Quit the list? I guess I could quit the list. But I'm the only one who can add people.

I am in this absurd place where I feel like any strong commentary that disagrees with my own opinion is directed at me. Example: We've been having a disagreement about the Oprah/Jonathan Franzen brouhaha. I took Oprah's side. Rita took Franzen's side. Today, Rita wrote: ...I'm still rabidly pro-Franzen. That overpaid sobbing lesbo totally deserves to be slagged by the intelligentsia and shown up for the "star" and total dim bulb she is, fancy rescinding an invitation to dinner--at your house, no less!!--because the guy told somebody he thought you were dumb!! Thereby proving his point!!!

I feel as if this tirade is directed at me personally, not least of all because I would run like hell to cancel any dinner party that included someone who was dissing me to the papers. Maybe Rita has the backbone for that, but I do not. Oh, sure I do, of course I do, and if I had to sit down with someone who thought I was an idiot for some reason, I would do it, and make frosty comments when I spoke (if at all), a la my mother, but why bother?

What makes it even weirder is that I don't even like Oprah all that much. I was trying to defend her to Stephen, on the phone, and he laughed when I said no, I don't watch the show. But I think Rita is being way too hard on her. Oprah ... I don't know. I'm not convinced Oprah is the enemy.

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