Me: taking lives
Me: good theater movie because there are some scary moments in a dark theater but not a good movie
Me: though angelina is hot
jckurily: yes, she is
Me: and moved me a few more percentage points towards lesbianism
jckurily: nice...
Me: i want to be domestic with her
jckurily: thats always good to hear
Me: and run through fields of wheat
Me: in slow motion
jckurily: who doesnt
Me: we'll bake cookies and get into a flour fight
Me: then we'll collapse on the kitchen floor, exhausted, giggling
jckurily: go on
Me: i'll notice that our clothes are covered with flour and dough so i take off her shirt
Me: and she takes off mine
Me: WAIT A MINUTE!
Me: this is supposed to be an innocent fantasy
Me: about domestic life with angelina jolie
jckurily: thats what they all say
Me: so we'd take off each other's shirts and throw them into the laundry, but i would make sure that I select the "small" setting so that we conserve water. at this point, maddox has shit himself so she has to change him, except that we're out of baby powder
Me: she gets hysterical saying that she has to have some, but i say, just don't use it, we'll get it later, and she's crying and screaming at me for being callous and I say, there are cookies in the oven, i'm not running out to the store which is a 20 minute drive away
Me: and now she's curled up on the bed, rocking herself and moaning, and maddox is in his play pen, naked from the bottom down, wailing, and I feel that red rage boiling up within me so I've gotta get out of the house
Me: i drive down to the 7-11 which is closer than the store but they don't have baby powder, but by then, i'm feeling passive aggressive and don't want to get the powder anyway because deep down, i know she loves that baby more than she loves me, so instead, i buy a pint of the cheapest whiskey they've got and sit in my car, drinking it while listening to the classic rock station
Me: they play don't fear the reaper which is OUR song, but at this moment it only makes me hate her more, because I've drank the entire pint and I'm 10 days off of antidepressants anyway, and so all I can think about is her and that damn baby, crying into each other's arms, maddox probably having shit all over himself because i know angie won't put on that diaper until she has the powder
Me: and that's when i decide, i can't take this anymore
jckurily: what happened to the taking off shirt part
jckurily: and getting wet and wild
Me: reality, baby. reality happened

I'm out for the night:

For all you bloggers out there...do you ever find cryptic messages to people in your blog, messages you would never tell them in person in a place that they'll probably never find? Maybe not consciously, but do you ever get the feeling that sometimes when you post, there is subtext directed at someone specific?

All of the writing here is stream of consciousness for me but sometimes I read an old post and wonder who the hell I was talking to.

And off the topic, Spencer, I owe you an email. Thanks for the response.

Today's mood: drifting out to sea

6/29 Recap:

I had a busy, somewhat stressful day at work today. Plus, I was feeling a little bit low so I kept to myself. I stayed a little later than usual at the office IMing, then headed over to Starbuck's to return a video next door and to see if Calvin was working. It was just the new girls tonight so I just dropped off the video and went home. I watched a new episode of Reno 911 that I was pleasantly surprised to find on my Tivo. I read in Entertainment Weekly that while the show was filming in a real police station, Thomas Lennon (Dangle, the cop in the daisy dukes) had a formal complaint filed against him by a female police officer, requesting that he not bend over so much.

Fucking. Awesome.

It was the one where they think Weigel's boyfriend is a serial killer. I loved it when Weigal comes back into the room, pissed at them and says, "'F' you! 'F' you and...FUCK you." She's one of my favorite all-time television characters. I think you have to be insane to improvise a character like that.

We went to Wahoo's for dinner and then over to Ralph's because I was going to experiment making a key lime pie martini. I picked up vanilla stoli, malibu, pina colada mix, lime juice and pineapple juice. I didn't want to use cream for this martini so I was hoping the pina colada mix or malibu could smooth out the kick at the end to make it taste more like pie than a citrus drink. I also figured the malibu and pina colada mix were interchangeable. I knew the malibu would work but a mixer would have been ideal to more fully tone-down the aftertaste. I tried some combinations and threw in graham crackers. The graham crackers are to simulate the taste of the crust but the milder taste of the graham crackers too greatly constrasted the sharpness of the citrus and the bitterness of the alcohol, causing the drink to taste stronger than it tasted without the graham crackers. I'm not sure if I need to make the drink sweeter or the graham cracker sweeter in order to make it taste more like pie, but next time, I'm going to experiment with Teddy Grahams and some real fruit juices.

An Open Letter to a Former Employer:

When you have a cancer working from within, it will eat away at all that is healthy until you collapse one day, finding yourself left without any legs. What has been the common denominator through all this? Why can't you hang on to good people? Think about it. I warned you. There's something really dysfunctional going on.

Do you think the surprise ahead-of-schedule handover of Iraq had anything to do with Fahrenheit 9/11 being projected to be and being the #1 grossing film last weekend? Bush is fucked if a majority of the upcoming voting population sees this movie.

So here's the situation:

I was at a birthday party at a bar on Saturday and I see a girl we'll call "K." K was once a friend but during college, someone really fucked me over and stabbed me in the back at the newspaper when I was home for a semester having knee surgery, and she went along with it, letting me take the fall. When the shit came down the wire, I emailed her and asked her to be straight with me about what was going on and she made it clear that she was not standing by me. The people on my staff made a lot of noise for me and uncovered some unethical, scandalous stuff, and it all worked out. The Michigan Daily is so fucking corrupt. But it didn't matter. She came back after the shit hit the fan and said that it was all this one guy's doing and nothing to do with her but I was so fucking disappointed with her that I could barely even look at her anymore, let alone be friends with her. But being the way I am, I was still cordial after that and never said anything about the disgust I felt over her role in everything that had happened.

On Saturday, I saw her but was wrapped up in too many conversations to say hi. I was at the other side of the bar playing darts when she came up to me and said that she had seen me and wanted to say hi. I said hi but was really short with my answers, not really making eye contact and immediately turning to talk to Jason, the guy I was playing darts with, right after answering each of her questions. I wasn't trying to prove a point or be rude; I just couldn't find it in me to talk to her and act like everything was great between us. Finally, she gets it and says, "Well, it was nice talking to you, Julia." I smile, shake her hand warmly and say, "It was good seeing you, K." I was very nice about it, but I couldn't fake the fact that I just didn't want to talk to her because I didn't respect her.

So somewhere near the end of the night, Jason wanted to play a game of darts for a blowjob. So I won, and I transferred my blowjob to Max, since you know, I don't have a penis.

As we were all leaving the bar, I saw Max and I said, "Jason's gonna give you that blowjob at my place." (which was me letting him know that we were all heading to my place to afterparty). But at that moment, K walked out of the bar and heard me. So she says, " Bye Julia." And I say, "Bye."

She takes a few steps then turns around and yells, really nastily, "Good luck giving out those blowjobs." So I say, "I'm not the one who's giving it out." And she says, "Right. Good luck giving out blowjobs." And walks off.

So all the guys outside the bar are like, "That was AWESOME! That was so fucking bitchy!" And I'm like, "What the fuck?"

But I guess I found out later from friends that she had seen me and had asked around about where I was, specifically trying to find me, so I guess she had been excited to talk to me. And then when I was unresponsive, it must have not been what she was expecting and it hurt her feelings.

But honestly, how can you pretend to be okay with someone if, when you're looking at them, you're so overwhelmingly aware that you don't respect them? I'm not mean about it. But it's uncomfortable for me to be in that situation, and to know how easy it is to read me through my eyes. Dude, if you're someone who has fucked me over and knows it, just leave me alone. It's better for both of us.

If you want to talk about the evolutionary/biological theories about the differences between men and women, then it can be said that men have an innate fear of independent women because they know that if a woman can take care of herself, then she has no need for the man except to biologically accept his seed. Therefore, a man's unconscious anxiety over being abandoned by the woman is strongest and most prevalent, after a couple has sex. The more the man is aware of his need of security, the more this man will be insecure about those he gets closer to. This is the type of male personality most likely to abandon women emotionally after sex, or take no responsibility. This man will also claim that the separation was due to his drive to conquer, this is more of an angle for him to perceive the situation so he can give himself a sense of empowerment.

This would have to be the theory that would have to complement the theory that men are biologically programmed to spread his seed in an evolutionary urge and thus, this desire causes monogamy to be counter-intuitive to men.

I think both theories, despite being somewhat semantically paradoxical, co-exist on equal planes.

Is it worse to know you can't help it, or to know that you can but won't?

The most disgusting thing I've ever found on the internet.


I guess this is what blogs are for. I surf around enough and check out people's ideas of crazy links, and I find things that make me throw up in my mouth.

By the way, the beer can pic unreal. That can't be natural.

Survey - The Thin Line Between Love and Hate
I am gearing up to start writing again. Since the material is dark, my mind is in a dark place.

No one hates nobody. Nearly all people have, at some point in their lives, flirted with the thought or fantasy of killing someone, whether or not they are willing to admit it. I theorize that for there to be such strong hate, the flipside must have also been present at some time, that of strong love, desire or need.

So here's the survey:

During the time(s) that you have fantasized about killing someone, was this person someone that you either have/had a close personal relationship with or have/once had very positive feelings for? (ie relative, friend, lover, etc.)

You guys can answer anonymously, or privately if you want. I just want to compile answers for my own research.

Not only did Brian try to send me to the gym this week wearing a handwritten sticker on my back that read, "I [heart] being a bottom," but he has taken to writing little witticisms on his rent check, such as, FOR "Rent and Sex." If I merely had to deposit these checks at the ATM, this wouldn't be a problem. But today, I had to deposit the check with a teller because I had to take care of a minor issue with my cash reserve. So I'm holding his check that says, "FOR June Rent and Good Doggie Style," and I have a 50/50 chance of getting either the old Armenian woman who barely speaks English, or the cute college boy who I flirted with mercilessly the last time I was here. As I get closer to the front of the line, praying to get the Armenian woman, College Boy looks up and smiles. Fuck. He remembers me. I'm praying and I'm praying to not get him as my teller, because as much as I joke about these things, I'm actually quite modest and I have a feeling that as bored as he is with his job, he's going to notice that unusual little notation on the check. I end up getting the Armenian woman who didn't seem to notice, but if I had gotten College Boy, I would probably have a great anecdote here about a ten-minute babble to a stranger about how I'm not a prostitute followed quickly by a mid-afternoon neurotic panic attack. Love your sense of humor, B. Love it to tiny, tiny, sharp, jagged bits.

Today, I asked my brother what he wanted to be for Halloween this year, and he said, "A gay FBI agent."

???????????????????????????????????????????????

Wat?

*****Updated******

My ESPN Draft Picks Entry:

Team Gonads and Strife

Updated

1st - Orlando Dwight Howard, GA HS Sr. PF
2nd - Charlotte Emeka Okafor, UConn Jr. PF
3rd - Chicago Andre Iguodala, Ariz. SG/SF
4th - LA Clippers Shaun Livingston, IL HS Sr PG
5th - Dallas Andris Biedrins, Latvia PF/C
6th - Atlanta Devin Harris, Wisconsin Jr. PG
7th - Chicago Luke Jackson, Oregon Sr. SG/SF
8th - Toronto Luol Deng, Duke Fr. SF
9th - Philadelphia Ben Gordon, UConn PG
10th - Cleveland Josh Childress, Stanford Jr. SG/SF
11th - Golden State Jameer Nelson, St Joe's SR. PG
12th - Seattle Kirk Snyder, Nevada Jr. SG
13th - Portland Josh Smith, GA HS Sr. SF
14th - Utah Sergei Monya, Russia SG

This is what I'd like to see from the Golden State Warriors:

1. Package Nick Van Exel and Jrich to get rid of Van Exel's salary.
2. Sign Mehmet Okur. They could really use him.
3. Clear cap space so we can make a play for Yao next year. Yao wants to come to the bay area.
4. Trade their #11 Draft Pick in this year's draft. It's a weak draft. Better to go for a future lottery pick in a deeper draft while using this pick as bait for enabling the above.

Scenarios
NVE makes 12M with 2 years left. J-Rich makes 3.5M with 2 years left.

1. NVE/JR (+filler) to Memphis for Pau Gasol/Bonzi Wells. Bonzi's 8M comes off the books after next season. Mike Dunleavy Jr. gets displaced but he can play 4 positions. GS will probably have to give up draft picks as well.
2. NVE/JR (+filler) to Dallas for Antoine Walker/Tony Delk. Antoine's 14M comes off books next year, and Delk returns to the Warriors as a shoot first point guard.
3. NVE/JR to Portland for Theo Ratliff, Qyntel Woods, Dan Dickau + Future First Rounders. Theo's 10M comes off books next year, Qyntel could develop, Dickau sits the bench.

These are all financial scenarios. The Warriors have GOT to get rid of Van Exel, even if it means giving up Richardson, to pave the way to signing Yao and/or Nash.

But then again, the owner of this hopeless franchise is hella cheap.

Hump Day Means Office Productivity Day


jckurily: what other bad movies did we see
Me: i don't know about bad but we saw red dragon (where you threatened to punch me in the head)
jckurily: in the face, julia.. not the head
Me: that's right, in the face
Me: i'll remember your fist when i try not to get scared watching gothika
jckurily: trust me, you wont get scared from gothika
jckurily: you will laugh and hate yourself for renting it
Me: self-loathing...the best kind of effect from a video rental
jckurily: it is... thats my motto
Me: if it doesn't make me want to kill myself from disgust, then it's not worth renting
jckurily: they have a whole section dedicated to that area
Me: like next to Special Interest and Academy Awards?
jckurily: exactly... but you have to show a special card in order to rent these movies
Me: you mean your anti-depressant prescription
jckurily: or a used condom
Me: if you have a used condom, you don't need self-loathing videos cuz you're getting some
jckurily: unless, you were so desperate, you pretend to get a used condom because you really cant get any so you need to get these videos to fill the void
Me: whoa
Me: we're theorizing about someone bringing a used condom to hollywood video
Me: that's funny, because i was seriously thinking about the psychological elements of what you just said
jckurily: and what is that?
Me: that someone must be real fucked up in the head to fake a used condom to take out a video. :-)
Me: not considering the fact we're probably real messed up for theorizing about a world where one must present a used condom to take out a video that is recommended to having the effect of making one want to kill himself
jckurily: or people who talk about people who theorize about people who would go to HV with a used condom to rent movies that are bad
Me: or people who think about wanting to talk about people who theorize about people who would go to hv with a used condom to rent movies that are bad
jckurily: or people who point out people who think about wanting to talk about people who theorize about people who would go to hv with a used condom to rent movies that are bad
Me: or people who passively sit by and encourage people who point out people who think about wanting to talk about people who theorize about people who would go to hv with a used condom to rent movies that are bad
jckurily: or people who unjustly accuse that a person is passively sitting by and encouraging people who point out people who think about wanting to talk about people who theorize about people who would go to hv with a used condom to rent movies that are bad
Me: or people who never explained the dangers of prejudice and ignorance to people who unjustly accuse that a person is passively sitting by and encouraging people who point out people who think about wanting to talk about people who theorize about people who would go to hv with a used condom to rent movies that are bad.


jckurily: have you seen my baseball?

My Picks for the Upcoming Bobcats Expansion Draft

Jahidi White
Jason Kapono
Aleksander Pavlovic
Tamar Slay
Malik Rose
Marcus Fizer
Antoine Walker (I think they'll take him off Cuban's hands but they'll want Jamison, a hometown boy, in exchange for whatever draft picks they receive from other trades.)
Primoz Brezec
Richie Frahm
Ervin Johnson
Jamal Sampson
Gerald Wallace
Desmond Ferguson
Juan Dixon

I would have thought they would want Dooling on the Clippers, but seeing as they've worked out a deal, I'm wondering if the Bobcats agreed not to take Dooling.

My Cousin Is a Freak!


You guys can check out her blog but DO NOT COMMENT ON IT! I don't want her led back to mine...I'd like to keep SOME secrets.

A viet sandwich? Girl, I'm gonna slap you upside your senseless head.

Who Wants to Buy Me This?

Weekend Recap

Friday night, Jake, Brian and I watched Mystic River instead of my choice, Dodgeball. My brain has low standards as to what it deems stimulating. It's an AWESOME movie, made me cry in secret, and rekindled my fire about someday working with young people in regards to abuse. Jake helped me set up my free ESPN
tv and it's awesome.
We hooked up my X-Box which had previously been gathering dust in the living room and had a field day on Saturday playing games and watching DVDs. In the afternoon, my favorite cousin Bohr called to say he was in town and I met his girlfriend, Jenny, who is freakin adorable (pictures to come). They both went to U. of Illinois and she's from Chicago, but my mom's company offered her a job so if she takes it, she'll stay in the bay area with him. I really hope she stays. I'd love to be related to her. ;)

History about my relationship with Bohr:

He's the oldest of three brothers with a strict genius dad and an overbearing super soccer mom. So he always got straight-A's, took college math classes in high school, played musical instruments, etc. Well, his senior year of high school, he stopped getting those A's and I guess, spent a lot of time hanging out with kids that liked cars or something. I could never quite figure out why his mom thought those kids were "bad" kids, but she insisted that he was falling into a bad crowd. Like coming home at 9pm instead of 8pm. So she would call me up at like 5am Michigan time to tell me about her worries about Bohr going bad and I would always groggily insist that he's a ridiculously good kid and someday, I may be forced to buy him a hooker, he was so good (I didn't say the last part outloud). Finally, she asked if she could send him out to spend his spring break with me at Michigan so I could "set him straight." I agreed cuz he's a cool guy. And I thought it was hilarious that she was sending him to the worst possible person for the setting-of-straight process.

So my innocent little cousin shows up and my setting-straight activities include:

-smoking "God's natural goods" out of a homemade gravity bong made out of gatorade bottles
-mixing Atomic Queers (also called the Date Rape Drink. My signature drink..."so fruity it's queer!"), blending margaritas, buying him $2 Boone's
-drinking blue milk (I was going through my food coloring phase.)
-having him PA a film shoot in which we had a bearded classmate play "Peeping Tom Jesus" who also smoked from a bong and drank a 40.

....all the while, telling him, "Don't do drugs, drink responsibly and don't join a gang."

It was a blast. And now, our tradition is that every time we see each other, we buy a couple of 40s and tip one for our homies. He's a great kid and funny as hell. He brings out the craziest in me.

So I took them to a bonfire at Dockweiler with the U-M crowd, where we roasted hot dogs, drank and listened to Max's pedophile jokes.

I took them to Toast on Sunday for brunch and then over to 3rd Street Promenade to be touristy. We met up with his girlfriend's brother who's in the Air Force, and the quietest Gemini I've ever met. I would love it if Jenny stays in California. I hope they visit more now that Bohr is done with college and working up north.

Since getting the tv set up in my room, I've fallen asleep to American Psycho (on Saturday) and Monster (last night). Nothing like the sounds of serial killing to lull you to sleep.

Monster gave me a nightmare about dating Ben Affleck. Yes, it's a nightmare. I find him utterly unattractive and really trashy. But in my dream, I had worked with him a long time and didn't realize he was Ben Affleck so it wasn't so bad, though when I realized, I had to do some soul-searching to remember that he was the same nice guy I worked with, and not a sleazy walking ego. Though I had hinted to him that I like, "intelligent, nice guys," and remember thinking, "Oh God, I hope he doesn't think this is a hint that I want to be set up with Matt Damon."

I'm in the process of putting up all of my birthday pictures on my website. It's tedious but I'm going to devote most of tonight to it, so they should all be up by tomorrow.

That's all.

"Events may create physical pain, but they do not in themselves create suffering. Resistance creates suffering. Stress happens when your mind resists what is...The only problem in your life is your mind's resistance to life as it unfolds."


~ Dan Millman, 21st century philosopher
from The Way of the Peaceful Warrior

[today's quote as emailed from www.zaadz.com; i didn't really like the book but i liked this quote]

Reason #4928 Why I'm Going to Hell

At brunch last weekend, Candice brings one of those free postcards that they have by the bathrooms to the table. It says, "WORK IT" and Candice says, "I'm gonna put this on my fridge to remind me to work out." And I said, "Well, the picture on MY fridge reminds me to...not...be...retarded." (see picture below). I think I heard the fires of hell sizzling as I reluctantly finished my quip.

In our defense, this was an actual ad for pajamas in a Sunday's Mervyn's catalog.

Random Quote Taken Out of Context

Lauren: Are you talking about the time when I had to wear a helmet?
Martin: What?
Lauren: Julia made me put on a helmet and slide down her hall. While she videotaped.

Coffee Bean Guy: A Proper Ending to an Imaginary Saga

So I haven't been in the Coffee Bean at my usual morning time for over a month because I've been going to the gym at the crack of dawn and going to work 1 1/2 hours early. Regardless, I'd already gotten pretty bored of the situation and plus, he's kind of creepy and I don't want to chance him actually wanting to connect with me.

So my coworker Avi and I went to pick up lunch for the office today. Driving back, we were on the residential street next to our building and I was telling Avi how eclectic houses on a single LA street can be. I pointed to a rundown house and said, "Like that one...," pointed at a huge, white house with pillars, "...next to that one." He said (re: the big house), "That's a rehab house." I said, "What?" and looked at it, just as Coffee Bean Guy walks out the front door.

I started cracking up because when Sarita and I were bored and theorizing about him over IM one day, she had suggested, "What if he's in AA and the reason you always see him talking to people at Coffee Bean is because they're meetings with his sponsers?" That was so random and out of the blue that we started cracking up. But when I saw him at the rehab house, I started laughing because I would have never guessed how close Sarita was to the truth. Major props to Sarita. She IS a genius.

Anyway, God bless LA. Don't take candy from strangers.

I talked to my brother yesterday and he asked if he could visit me on his summer break. I said okay. He asked if he could book his ticket now and I said sure. So I guess he did and he emailed me his itinerary and he's booked a stay for 20 days. 20 DAYS!!! His entire break! So I'm flipping because I was thinking, you know, like a week-long visit. So I wrote him this email in jest. His hilarious response follows:

Dear Michael,
I noticed that you plan to stay for 20 days with me. Since that is such a
long time, this trip will not count as a vacation for you. Therefore, here
are my terms:

1. You will get a job. I don't care what kind of job. You have to find a job
while you're here. And a real job, too. Not a job where I have to pay you.
Because you will be taking out my garbage for free.

2. I get 50 percent of your paycheck from this job which counts as your rent
and food charges. And anything else I have to pay for, I will create a bill
which you will have to pay within a week's time of the purchase. This
includes clothes, movie tickets, keychains and airplanes.

3. You will clean my house and make my bed every day.

4. If I want a foot massage, you have to do it. I will pay you: 50 cents for
30 minutes. 75 cents for 1 hour. 1 dollar if you give me a massage and feed
me at the same time.

5. You will go to the gym with me 5 days a week. If you burn more than 400
calories on a cardio machine, I will buy you a jamba juice. If I burn more
calories than you, you will wash my car.

6. You will treat me to dinner once a week. And don't tell me you don't have
enough cash. I will take you to an ATM.

Okay?

Thank you,
Julia S.

***********************************************************

JULIA

THNAK YOU FOR THE E-MAIL. I WILL DO ALL THESE CHORES. IF I DO A GOOD JOB, MAY I HAVE SOME FUN PLEASE? OK.

MICHAEL

Ben Wallace - Part Deux

Ben Wallace had another strong showing in the game last night and I would like to expound some more about why Big Ben is so impressive to watch.

Big Ben is well known not only for his massive size and for his skilled use of his body, but also for his boundless energy and incredible stamina. Even though some critics say that he often has trouble finding the hole with his shot, he has the ability to quickly get up again and again and again until he succeeds in scoring. The greatest issue is that Big Ben rushes his shot and shoots too hard, but with more practice, Big Ben will develop a natural intuition that will allow him to not attack the hole so aggressively, but with a much softer touch. He's very good about muscling into position and using his strong lower body and nimble hands to put himself in an ideal situation to get off a solid shot or to finish if someone else is not able to complete. Excellent on both ends, Big Ben has caused many to be subjected to his trademark no-holds-barred facials. If you're trying to get off a shot and look up to find Big Ben coming down on you, you'd better watch out! Known for his dominant presence, Big Ben doesn't like other people getting off shots in his house. He is a man amongst boys and I'm sure everyone in the league would agree, "Big Ben is a true stud who can bang down low on both ends all night."

My cute mom and the flowers I got her for my birthday.

97 Seconds - Expert Level. This is how exciting my workday was.

This just in...

I had my birthday dinner at Houston's with my father who was here for the mediation regarding the condo. He told me that Michael got him a father's day present, and the card said, "You're the #11 best dad in the world." I'm sure it's a typo, but I'm curious as to who the top 10 are.

The rest of the story: So my dad puts the card on his nightstand and jokes to Michael, "So I'm the number 11th best dad, huh?" And Michael just laughed and looked kind of embarrassed. That night, my dad went to bed and found that Michael had crossed out the second "1" to make it "#1 best dad."

Michael sent me flowers and a Britney Spears CD for my birthday (which I giggled about for a while). The card?

"Julia P. S***. Happy 26th Birthday."

Thank you, Michael J. S***.

Today is my favorite day of the year!

I woke up this morning and was still very, very intoxicated. I had a lot of alcohol yesterday and didn't get sick so it was all still in my system today, but I have to say that I'm feeling surprisingly okay, though it took me until late afternoon to get anywhere near sober. But I felt good enough to think about wanting to go to the gym so this is a great day after. I learned two things last night. 1. I can hold my liquor. 2. I am never doing that again.

I hate drunk hos.

Thanks, everyone, for an awesome party last night! And thanks especially to Calvin for the..."show." I saw hip gyrations and think my brain shortcircuited from pleasure overload, because that's the fuzziest point of my memory.

We had 3 disposable cameras going around the party and I'm pretty terrified of what's on them.

There was a rock in my purse this morning. I don't know why there's a rock in my purse.

Ryan hands me back my camera and says, "There are some strange pictures on it." Okay. So 'splain yourself. What the hell IS this????&

this picture visually sums up my experience of the evening. [The Lapdance God and I]

Lesson of the Weekend

12 Patron shots? Yeah, that'll get you drunk.

I just ordered Happy Birthday flowers for my mom. In The Perks of Being a Wallflower, the protagonist says that on your birthday, you should get your mom a gift, too, because she did most of the work. And I think that makes sense. And lucky for my mom, 1. I don't mind having been brought into this crazy world so I don't resent her for doing the work, and 2. I like her as a person so I'm willing to give her props. Unfortunately, my moronic ass wasn't paying attention to filling out the online form so instead of sending flowers to her on Monday, 6/14, I sent it in that I was sending flowers to myself at her office on Saturday, 6/12. It is amazing how many tasks I can perform without actually involving my brain. But I just talked to a customer service rep and got everything worked out. In my defense, I'm still severely jetlagged and am only sleeping between the hours of 12am and 3am.

I'm psyched about the party tomorrow. It should be a blast. I've set my drink limit beforehand at 3 drinks, but I doubt that's gonna hold...my cousins are coming and they know how to provoke my competitive streak with drinking games. Since I have low tolerance to begin with and my cousins and I are having dinner at the bar before the party, I'm just hoping that I'm still conscious by the time people start showing up.

In other news, Peyote buries his own doody. What a considerate little neat freak.

In other news, I got caught up in the basketball game and forgot to celebrate his birthday yesterday. So officially, his birthday is now June 11th instead of June 10th. This date feels more befitting of him anyway. Happy birthday, Peyote! You're 1 year old! I will bring home the cantaloupe that you really wanted. And soon, I'll get you a turtle companion as soon as I figure out whether you're a boy or a girl.

Ben Wallace

Ah, Big Ben. That beautiful, beautiful, beautiful specimen of Man. Every single muscle sculpted in that lean, chiseled body that is as graceful as it is powerful. Many have wondered why I am so completely fascinated with him and I think I should explain.

No, he's not handsome. In fact, he's a frightening looking fellow. Though his fro is bomb, the hairdo is better looking than the man. But what is incredible about him is the fact that he looks like a marble statue come to life. It makes any aesthete's eyes tear up from the sheer beauty of the human body in its top form. It's the same way a person will admire a stealth jet or a Lamborghini or some other well-crafted machine. Something inside this person just becomes awestruck and goes, "fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck."

And on top of that, he's got reflexes that are inhuman. The way his arm shoots out and rips the ball out of the air and into his body is like watching something being primally devoured. It simultaneously freaks me out and excites me.

In summary, I want to lick Ben Wallace.

One More Michael Story

We were walking along a street in Taiwan, window-shopping, helping my mom buy gifts for her coworkers. I was bored as hell so I started pretending that I had an invisible dog on a leash. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm Method with this stuff so in my mind, I really did have a golden retriever on a leash (even though I would have preferred a labrador, but you work with what you're given). It was an inside joke between my brother and I, made funnier because it embarrassed my mom (she's a great sport) and it confused the hell out of the people around us. My mom, who had gone into a store, waved at me and said she needed help. So I asked the owner, "Can dogs come in?" He said, "No." So I tied the "leash" to a metal sign and left my "dog" sitting at the street corner. I said to Michael, "Make sure no one steals my dog." I was joking. But he takes it REALLY seriously and stood at the door of the store, keeping an eye on my "dog." Some guy stood right next to where my dog was and lit a cigarette and Michael comes running up to me and whispers, "That guy is smoking RIGHT NEXT TO your dog." I laugh and say, "That's okay." So he goes back to standing by the door, staring at where my dog is and I'm at the counter helping my mom, when we suddenly hear Michael yell, quite ferociously, "WATCH OUT FOR MY SISTER'S DOG!", scaring the fuck out of some extremely confused old lady who had unwittingly stepped into the space where my imaginary dog was sitting.

Michael Guarding My Imaginary Dog

Michael Guarding My Imaginary Dog

I'm a Bad Person

One morning while we were in Taiwan, I was going to the gym and my (lazy) brother happily couldn't go because he had hurt his foot. I asked him if he wanted to go with me just to keep me company and we could get lunch afterwards, and he said yes because he wanted to be with me. I told him he had to buy me coffee first (there's a cafe next door and he buys me an iced coffee every morning along with an iced tea for himself). Well, he took his sweet time getting ready and I kept telling him I was leaving but he wouldn't answer me. I thought he was a little too confident in knowing that I wouldn't really leave without him so I pretended to leave, opening and shutting the front door so he could hear, then hid in the living room. He left the apartment a few minutes later, in no hurry, taking the elevator down. I took the stairs and followed him into the street hiding behind pillars, staying about 10 feet behind him. He went into the cafe to look for me, then came out and walked to the end of the block where he stood looking around for a long time with a stricken look on his face. It was apparent that he couldn't remember which way the gym was. I watched him walk back inside the cafe and I hid and waited for him to come out. After a while, he came out and instead of looking for the gym or going back upstairs, he came towards me and sat at a bench really close to where I was hiding. I thought he saw me but he hadn't so I ducked behind a wall. I could see his reflection in a store front. He had a paper bag with him and he took out an ice tea and just sat there drinking it, looking really sad. I started to feel awful so went up to the bench and stood RIGHT behind him, hovering over him until he noticed me. He didn't jump in surprise like I thought he would. He just kind of looked at me sadly and said, "I thought you left without me." Then he handed me an iced coffee that he had bought for me anyway, even though as far as he knew, I had already left without him. I felt like such an ASSHOLE.

Trying On Bras In Public

Michael and Mom

Someone Crapped on My Food

Angelina and her brother ain't got nothing on us. My brother helps me stretch my hamstring.

My Little Brother Suffers For The Sake Of My Art.

Wearing Native Tribal Costumes

this is how THIS American hails a taxi in Taiwan.

The Strangest Place I've Ever Woken Up In

So I fell asleep at 5pm today and just woke up and I'm UP. Freakin' jetlag. I've been listening a lot to my lucid dreaming cd on my ipod, since it's best to listen with headphones and I was never inclined to fall asleep with my cd player (my ipod, now that's a different story). It has brainwave frequencies and/or subliminal messages underneath the sound of ocean waves, so it's very much like a normal relaxation soundtrack used for meditation or sleep aid. I listened to it more frequently last year, when I was trying to be able to remember more details of certain dreams, because I often dream of developing ideas for scripts and working out issues with current scripts, but then could never remember the details after I woke up. Very frustrating for a writer. I couldn't tell if it was helpful since I wasn't very diligent about it (and didn't use headphones). I've been doing it a lot this last week because the plane ride and the jetlag in Taiwan were a bitch, and the sound of waves made it the most relaxing thing I had on my ipod to induce sleep. I've found that I've been having really vivid dreams where I'm present in them and I can have total thought processes, thinking out what to say to people and have insights on people during the dream. Like the dreams are in real time and I can remember processions of thoughts and emotions. And observations. I can also say to myself, this is a dream and instantly remove things that are frightening to me in the dream (like the presence of a threat), or skip something that's boring (like waiting for someone to finish doing something. I can skip it like a dvd so that they're done). It's really great and has been helpful to understanding some of my subconscious stressors in waking life, and working them out so that I feel better when I wake up, without necessarily knowing the specifics of why.

I dreamed last night that some kids were being murdered in a high school and they suspected it was another kid. I was me and I accompanied the two men who were brought in to investigate (I think I had gone to that high school back in the day and these guys were friends of mine so I tagged along), but at one point, I realized that I was alone by the locker rooms after school and became terrified. I fast forwarded to a point where they had suspects, and this one kid was suspected. We went to his house to interview him and I remember thinking, I don't think it's him. He's too innocent. At that point in the timeline, two more students had been killed for a total of four. We were outside when I jumped perspectives and followed someone else who was in the backyard, 3rd person. Nobody in the house knew he was there. He was some independent investigator who was foreign (I knew he had a foreign accent), and he was using the distraction of the interrogation inside to search the backyard, and he found a buried human skull. I remember thinking, in my 3rd person state, that here I was, watching proof being found that the kid was guilty, but my true self was inside the house with a killer whom I thought was innocent. I became terrified so I woke up. I can remember with good detail the way the school looked and certain physical and psychological elements of the characters encountered in that dream.

Tonight I dreamed that I was interning at KCRW and they agreed to let me put together a compilation CD in their name. I was psyched and I was putting toghether random songs, which I could hear at the time, but which I think my mind made up. They were all kind of electronic dance-ish, ala Timo Maas. I was in Fremont for some reason and I knocked on this door and my friend Rebecca Marko answered. I was PSYCHED because she's a cool chick. I was happy to see her but then I noticed my ex-boyfriend standing behind her. I was cordial but wouldn't look him in the eye, because in my mind, I thought, he doesn't deserve to see into my eyes and have me speak to him from my soul (I believe that people can communicate a lot psychically through eye contact because the eyes are the window to the soul). The house had wood paneling and kind of looked like a trailer home, but it was big and I was impressed that he was living in a big house. I also think, so it's true...he moved. So I was talking to her and he was sitting there next to her being the attentive boyfriend, but I managed to black him out so that when I glanced over there, his head had a black mist over it so I didn't have to look at him. He offered me a mini Snickers bar which I declined, and then he left the room. Rebecca was talking to me about my KCRW gig but I couldn't hold it in so I asked her what she was doing with him. She said, "You won't believe what happened. She went crazy on him." I immediately knew two things--that she was talking about the girl he dated after me, and that he when he hooked up with my friend, he had told her that his last girlfriend went crazy to get sympathy for him, poor him, victimized by a girl who made him suffer. I got angry that he was playing the victim to a friend whose kindness was genuine so I cut in and told her, "Rebecca, he always says things like that. He either goes for girls who are crazy to martyr himself, or when a girl proves to normal and healthy, he'll be sadistic to her to the point she either acts crazy in frustration or leaves, at which point he gets to play the victim again. He's manipulative." I asked her how they met and she said, through friends. She gushed that this was the first night she had spent the whole night because they were taking things slow. I asked how long they'd been dating and she said, a couple of weeks. So I said, oh, you're still in the honeymoon period. I got really scared because she was so innocent about it and so enamored, and this is this creep's MO. So I grabbed her hands, looked her in the eye and said, listen, Rebecca, you know I care about you and I wouldn't say these things unless I was looking out for you and concerned with your wellbeing. You have to keep your eye on this guy. He's bad news and he's toxic and he hurts people. He can play the role of amazing boyfriend until the times when he remembers that he hates himself, and then he'll break everything around him that has any value or beauty, in particular, innocence and kindness. I don't want you there when he goes on his rampages, and I don't want him taking advantage of your kindness and understanding when he decides that the person he wants to most destroy is the person who's nicest to him. She says, oh, I know, but he's been great so far...and I said, he always starts out that way, then turns into a monster. He's incredibly abusive. It's like she doesn't want to hear me. She says to me, you're a very, very lucky woman. And I know she's talking about the fact that I was with him and that she was implying that he still cared. The alarm bells in my head were going nuts because this guy was going to hurt her. So I said, no I'm not. I'm lucky that I got out. He came back into the room and said he had to go to work. He comes over and tenderly kisses me on the top of my head (I had jerked my head away from him out of instinctual revulsion) and whispers, "I've missed you." And then he doesn't even kiss her, but does say, "Bye," looking at her like he's completely lovestruck and it makes me sick because this guy is going to hurt her with his insane game. After he leaves, I get up to go, too and just say, "Please keep your eye open and don't let him push you around." I hug her and leave. I drive around but I'm worried. And I realize that I don't know what's worse...that he's going to fuck with my good friend, or that maybe he has changed and become a better person. But I think, I doubt it. The whole time he was there, he was doing his thing...playing two girls off of each other. I go home and try to think about music for the CD, but by 2 am, I'm really bugged. I leave a message for Linda to see if I can drop by in the morning instead of the evening as planned for the next day. Then I call Sarita, misdialing once, leave a message asking her if she'd talked to Rebecca lately. She calls back and I tell her what happened and she's surprised, since she didn't know Rebecca was dating anyone even though she had talked to her very recently. I was again worried because this guy likes to keep his relationships a secret because he likes to date in the same pool (getting one thing guaranteed before he ends another) so he doesn't want his game cramped, and I think, deep down, he doesn't want the girls to talk. He also likes to breed animosity and competition between the girls he dates for this reason. A really bad character. So the fact that she hasn't even told her friends about it worries me. In my dream, Sarita and I talk and analyze it the way we talk about things, and I feel better talking to her. While I drive home to my parents house, I notice that they've installed streetlights around the last curve of the hill. My car's engine is roaring as it tries to go from 0 to whatever on such a steep incline and the noise and effort of the engine really is incredibly abrasive in my dream, so I decide to wake up.

So those are the details of my last two dreams. I wrote them down here because it's easier to maintain the memory of your dreams if you write them down.

I'm back!
I'm sitting here, sipping some Johnny Walker Blue Label from the Duty Free Shop, glad to be home. Not so glad to see my credit card bill waiting for me on the table, but nevertheless, I love that our place smells like a different Glades scent in every room. And I love not feeling sticky anymore.

This will be the last drink I have before my birthday party on Saturday, as having spent a week and a half in a country where everything is either fried or cooked in lard or fried in lard has made my body resent me like an albino love child that I keep locked up in my attic. Er...a hypothetical albino love child that I keep locked up in the attic. I mean.

I plan to detox all week with green tea and fresh fruits and veggies so I stop getting winded just by looking at stairs.

I've noticed something today, as the sun travels through Gemini and the lot of us celebrate birthdays. I've noticed that a lot of geminis have a lot of friends of the opposite sex. My cousin B has a freakin' harem of girls but they are all truly and literally, just friends. And he treats them chivalrously. My roomie Brian has a hoard of girls and you could argue that, well, you would expect that he would be surrounded by a hoard of girls. But I tend to have a lot of male friends that are just that, with neither history nor intention of moving into anything more, and it seems that I could give many examples of other geminis I know who also have an unusually large number of strictly platonic friends of the opposite sex.

So in examining this phenomenon, I theorize that the reason for this is that Gemini, being the androgynous sign that encompasses both male and female, will strive for the company of the opposite sex not as a sexualized member of the opposite sex, but as an ungendered peer. Thus, Gemini men can fit in with a group of woman in a non-sexually threatening way by understanding and embodying certain female principles, and vice versa.

Speaking of Gemini birthdays...happy birthday to Brian who is off to Boston! He'll be back on Saturday in time for my party, which rocks. I guess people who have hotmail aren't getting the evites because they just go into junk mail folders. That sucks.

Rattle rattle, drunken rattle. The problem with rarely drinking is that it takes very little to get you drunk.

Oh, my mom, who is very modest in expression, gets fiery when she's stressed. So as we were in a hurry to get all of our baggage downstairs where a cab had already been waiting for half an hour, she suddenly screams (in Chinese...I'll translate), "WHICH SON OF A BITCH TOOK MY CAMERA?!?" That was the funniest thing I've ever heard her say. If you knew her, you would understand why this statement is shocking.

Did God create us before we created him? Or did we create him before he "created" us? Discuss amongst yourselves.

I'm going to bed. If I find that I'm suffering from jetlag insomnia, I'll update my website with the pictures from my trip. Stay tuned.

Let's answer some fan mail.

From Jorge R (subject--re:Booty Call Agreement Post):

Look, I am not looking to be a pussy, whipped bastard, especially one of many. How about this? You won't even need alcohol. I will fuck you, and i know you will like it, so much that you will hate me for it. I've had ex's, that i broke up with calling me in the middle of the night, pist as hell because they just fucked tha new guy, but i remain the best. I will never ask "was it good", because you will not be able to say anything with your face stuck on extra, important smile. I know i won't be the biggest, but i will at the very least be in the top three best lays, if not first. So what do you say? Wanna see a picture, i sent one with this. So go ahead, let me know.



Dear Jorge,
How delighted I am that you were able to look past the satirical tone of my tongue-in-cheek contract to see the truth--that I am a passion-depraved sex kitten just looking to be eviscerated by your sugar-crusted (with a hint of cinnamon), burning hotrod of man-churro. I am glad that you don't want to be another one of my pussy-whipped bastards, as the last one could not even make me a proper blanquette de veau with rice pilaf while simultaneously giving me a Thai foot massage while reciting his praise of me in iambic pentameter. Blanquette de veau with rice pilaf!! I don't even know what that is! That's the last time I agree to host an impressionable, wide-eyed university exchange student from Europe and keep him chained up in my home. But I digress. I would love to have my face stuck on "extra, important smile," as I am currently looking for ways to get my face unstuck from "eyes profoundly crossed from masturbating nonstop in public places." And don't worry about not being the biggest. My penis is massive enough for the both of us.

Tingling with anticipation,

Your cross-eyed love kitten,

Julia

Clive Owen to play King Arthur????

Goodness.

That's hot.

The Smell of Diesel and the Stickiness of Sex

Landed in Taiwan two days ago and getting off the plane, I was immediately hit by that thick, humid tropical air. The air immediately covers you with that post-sex stickiness (which is probably my least favorite part of sex) that makes you feel dirty instantly. I guess in both the physical and mental sense.

The first thing we did was eat. The people of this tiny island seem to have three loves: 1. Eating 2. Working 3. Shopping. With maybe getting foot massages running a distant fourth. The streets are crowded with street vendors selling all kinds of things which I can't begin to identify (I saw something that looked like a flaccid uncircumsized penis!), let alone order. Food here is cheap. For example, my mom, brother and I settled in around 8am and went out for breakfast. We ordered the following (I'll post pictures from the trip and of the food on my website when I get back. I'll do the best to describe what we ordered):

2 bowls of noodle soup
1 bowl of beef noodles
2 orders of tofu with cilantro and plum sauce
1 bowl of fried fish pieces in a thick mushroom stew
1 fried Chinese croissant
1 order of steamed dumplings
2 orders of grilled beet cake
2 orders of egg tortillas
2 cups of cold soy milk

All this set us back the equivalent of $9 US. For three people to eat like pigs. Granted, these places aren't passing any food inspection exams anytime soon. Or...ever. But this stuff was pretty damn good.

The thing that I forgot but was reminded of right away, is the fact that this country is redefining the term "waif." Taiwan is a little island with no cows. Therefore, people don't drink milk and tend to eat limited quantities of meat. The result of this is that the average waist size of men and women combined is -2. Consequently, I'm considered a cow here. At least in India, I would be considered sacred. But the flipside is that while clothing stores don't carry sizes above 5 (five for FAT, or Large), the top bra size at lingerie store is 31B. I walked in and the saleswoman said right away, I don't think we're going to have anything that will fit you. That's right. Go milk!

I happened to catch the Lakers/Twolves game today. Well, KG's the man. And now I have to deal with another year of cocky LA fans. Fuck yall.

Til next time...hope everyone had a great weekend.