I can do bad in the light all by myself.

Or I can do good in the dark with you.

Sarah and Ajee drove up from San Diego to attend my going away. They were the two girls I met on the cruise to Alaska. I actually didn't think I would ever see them again. It's always interesting when different pockets of people I know meet. It's illuminating, and I like it when they have connections between each other.

It was kind of interesting to see them outside of the context of the cruise experience. In a way, I think they wanted to see as well...if what was experienced was real.

Maybe the magic is that there's a way to bring it into this world. You just have to have the space to feel very positive and loving. Not worry about anything outside of openness to experience truth and beauty.

The girls arrived early, so we hung out at my place for a while. We sent a funny picture to Tom:

Bernie, Ajee, Me, Sarah, and Monkeybutt

The show was fuckin' bizarre. I didn't even look at the description of the concert. I'd just bought tickets because it was one of the last Sunday shows of the summer, and I wanted to get one more Bowl night in. The timing just turned out to work for my going away gathering.

But I thought since the Roots would be there, it would be a giant block party with dancing in the aisles. But it was a spoken poetry piece with the LA Philharmonic, where they read Langston Hughes' "Ask Your Mama" and interpreted it through jazz and vocals.

There were some good beats, the video accompaniment of the history of black struggle was interesting, but there was this one woman singing soprano in an operatic style who just didn't fit. The other vocalists were deep south soulful, and then the soprano would come in and you'd suddenly get hit with anxiety. "Where's this thing going?"

The other thing that kind of sucked was that the entire theater was silent. I've never been to the Bowl when it was this still, this serious. Sarita opened a bottle of champagne and the pop almost echoed. We all look over and suddenly the bottle erupts out of her lap, like an obscene cartoon animation. That will probably be my favorite image of the night. But the lady next to her, who had been pissed off anyway when we'd had to pass her to get to our seats, got sprayed with champagne. So during intermission, we moved up to the very top corner of the Bowl, which was completely empty.

That was cool. We had the whole section to ourselves, between the moon and trees, and all the stars, the lights and music from the stage below almost seeming to come from a different world.

Announcements!

First of all, we've broken a record. At 160 posts, the most posts in a month, this nearly laps the previous high number of 87, from March, 2008--the month I left my job and went to Europe for no particular reason, outside of the fact I could. The next closest was the 80 of November, 2004, the most poetic time of my life, the month of dramatic rainstorms and a raging pool of inner poetry. I locked myself in my room after work every night, playing guitar by candlelight as the wind whipped the rain through the open patio door. That was also the year a woman fell in love with me.

This tells me August was quite an inspired month. That tells me Fall will be quite a season.

Team. We are on the brink of something exciting. Those with your eyes open have found plenty of evidence of something more going on behind the scenes. Management was automated for a while, but now there is more conscious leadership. Now is a time of celebration, but soon will be a time of great concentration and effort, but hard-earned rewards. Have faith. Everything will be something gained. Look for it. Find the positive benefit in every moment, situation, interaction or purpose, focus on it and move forward. We are building something right now, and you are all very important.

I have 2 days to pack up all my stuff. !!!!

courage to believe the unknown is better than an unfulfilling known, because you will make it so. courage to understand the respect of one's dreams is essential in the journey towards the respect of self. courage to have conviction that there is more beyond that which is seen and felt. finally, wisdom to see the connections.

the wings that will bring you to great heights.

someday, two feet ahead, you will round the corner and there you are.

sometimes, you just want to see some humanity.

gemini
bright eyed mercurial child
a million stars of (atlantis) sky
bursting from the bottom of the ocean
can suddenly.
be still.
wave pools ripple silver animation
innocence
you! yes, you...come for the ride.
incorrigible sleepwalker
#1 mindfucker
mouth and hands that haunt
such an awkward, fragile creature
this one will never be caught.
try, just try to figure out what's inside
that androgynous mystery will get you every time.
poetry in motion
compares to storms and ocean
hearts like giants
but all around, flatlines.
magnetic polarity
minor cult infamy
an ephemeral symphony (when the mood strikes)
a smile that hits your tickle zone like a silk-gloved bitch slap.
the truth is in the eyes.

she is
passionate storms on black, endless nights
she is
forest earth rich with rainwater
she is
midnight to dawn in another place and time
she is
never the same person.

and then sometimes in the shadows of 3am...

just two bright eyes peering out from the darkness
and the silence of the moon, breathing in time with the ocean.

peter

This is how I met Peter.

I was sitting at a local pub around the corner from where I'm going to be living in Seattle, trying it out as spot for me to write, a home away from home. I was engrossed in my free-write with my earphones in, and he came up to the counter wearing a blue service shirt and a blue cap. I couldn't tell if he was hip or if he was delivering something. He was friends with the bartenders so he would talk to them, then leave, then come back again. I never caught him looking at me, but I just had a feeling I was on his radar.

When I was packing up my things to leave, he came up and asked the bartender if he heard about what happened to Tom, the Bears fan. The bartender said he heard he went to the Seahawks game and got pickpocketed. He told him Tom was wearing sweatpants and it just fell out of his pocket. But someone did spend his money.

I had taken out one of my earphones to listen to the story as I packed, because it sounded interesting. But I felt I needed to address one detail of the story. "Who wears sweatpants to a public event?"

He turns and looks at me, sizing up where I'm coming from. "Like if you're coming from the gym," he said.

C'mon, man. Sweatpants are never okay at public events.

He starts telling this story that starts with, "I lost my wallet once when I was living in Minneapolis...," but he's kind of looking at the guy next to him, not me as he's talking, so I go back to packing my stuff, tuning him out. He gets to the end of his story and says, "Did you even hear any of my story at all?"

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know you were talking to me," I said.

He says he lost his wallet in Minneapolis, but that day, two Peter Jaeger's had lost their wallets, so someone mailed the other Peter's to him. He said it still had money in it. He mailed it to the other Peter.

"Did you ever find yours?," I asked.

"No," he said.

"Don't you think it's unusual that two people with the same name living in the same city lost their wallet on the same day?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"That's gotta be magic."

"That's definitely something going on."

Then he turns, leaves.

*****

I went into the bar this morning to do some writing. Peter's working behind the bar. He asks me if I'm gonna get some work done. He's seen me in here every day on my computer. "Yes," I tell him. "Last day!"

"What do you mean last day?"

"I'm flying home today, and then I'll be moving up here in 2 weeks."

"Where's home?"

"Los Angeles."

He tells me about his experience going to Los Angeles. He asks me why Seattle and I tell him that I've always wanted to live here, and there's no better time for me to do it than now. He asks where I'm living and I tell him, down the street. He said he lived in this area as well when he first moved out, and it'll be a great experience. He's a midwest guy, Big 10, Iowa vs my Michigan. He's the one who tells me I'm going to be very happy because this is the exact bar in Seattle where the Michigan Alumni gather every Saturday. He tells me I chose the right place.

He apologizes and says he never got my name.

"Julia," I say, shaking his hand. "And you're Peter Jaeger, who lost his wallet in Minneapolis."

Yes, I am, he said. And we fall back into a conversation about that story, which I love. I tell him he never knows...he might still find his wallet yet.

As I'm leaving, I mention how I'm really excited about this city, how it's a completely new beginning. I don't even know a single person here.

He pretends to be offended. You know one person now, he said.

That made me happy. Slowly, laying down roots.

I went to the Les Nubians show on Friday and they seated me next to a handsome, lightskinned guy who was also by himself. He introduced himself is David. This is the 3rd David I've met this week in Seattle. Are we doing that again? I would prefer not to. He tells me Les Nubians, like him, are from Camaroon. The show is good but he talks to me through most of it, telling me about Seattle, and how the dating scene is tough because people are kind of standoffish--they don't really talk. He says that's why I should give him my number at the end of the show, so we can keep in touch.

As I told Brian last night when I got home, this is a new era for me. He'd once had a talk with me about not giving out my number because what ends up happening is I regret it 89% of the time. Sometimes I regret it as I'm giving someone my number because I don't really want to give it to them, but I feel put on the spot. But in Seattle, I haven't given out my number a single time, which is great. It has felt important to me that I don't.

During the show, I realize that it's kind of important to me that people don't know how to find me. That I'm here to explore incidence and accident, coincidence. How the paths of strangers cross and recross. I'm here for everything to funnel into my creativity, and I don't want to invite people in unless I'm sure I want to invite people in. I like that I'm starting out socially so clean. I like that overall, people in Seattle are friendly but mind their own business.

This guy is nice, but he's a little aggressive. So during the last song, I slip out to go to the bathroom, then leave, sitting in the upstairs lounge where there's an ambience band free-styling deep, sultry jazz.

I don't usually walk out on someone without saying goodbye, but while I enjoyed our conversation, I just didn't want to open a door into my life. My life is not about being polite anymore. It's about doing whatever I want and building my life experience the way I want and need it. And right now, I have a clean, open canvas. I plan to be very selective about what I choose to fill it with.

I'm back in LA now. I'll pack up and drive up to my hometown on Wed, then head to a wedding in Michigan on Sat, returning Mon, then start driving to Portland on Tues, arriving in Seattle on Wed.

Two weeks to make this idea of living in Seattle a reality. But as I realized, I have no job, no relationship, no dependents right now. I'll never be as free as I am now to pursue this, so in a way, I have to.

One thing I really liked about Seattle, spending time there this week, is how much music there is. On the streets, in the restaurants, all the music venues...between the mountains and the sea and the expanse of sky, plenty of nature and musical inspiration.

I also found out that the trains are active, so there's a chance I'll hear them at night. And the pub around the corner from me that I've chosen as my home away from home is lowkey and has free wifi (and the address adds up to 9 and they've got lions outside!), so I've been spending every day in there, writing. I went in there this morning, and found out that this place is also where the local Michigan alumni meet to watch the games on Sat mornings, so I'll meet my fellow Wolverine Seattleites! This is incredible. Of all the places in the city, I've definitely found the spot I'm supposed to be in. I'm very excited to start this chapter of my life.

hahaha!

So this is the story. I'd spent the day getting to know the public transit system which people have been telling me is great. I spent the morning hanging out by the University of Washington, then talking to Rie about the book. Took the bus back to my area of town, had a very pleasant conversation with the female driver. The bus was empty except for me and her.

I got off, telling her it was wonderful to meet her. Felt really happy and content with my life. I'm walking towards my new home to officially sign my lease today. I'm about 2 blocks away when I round the corner and see this:


WTF!!!! I almost fell on my face.

So I head towards it, past my street to the dock, and it turns out, around the corner from where I'll be living is where the cruise ships dock. This one is the Celebrity Infinity. So I will definitely be listening to boat horns from my place after all!

I couldn't stop laughing. It's like I'm surrounded by symbols that remind me of positive things. That X reminds me of inspiration and magic.

I headed back to my building and asked the leasing agent about it. I'd walked around the waterfront before, but usually further down towards the fish market; I've never seen any cruise ships. She told me the cruise ships leave out of the pier just behind us, usually on weekends, so if I ever want to take a cruise to Alaska, I can just walk across the street and hop on a boat.

"I just took a cruise to Alaska," I told her. I couldn't stop laughing and shaking my head.

Seattle. You...trickster. You better not be setting me up for a joke. It did give me a good laugh though. Definitely not what I expected to see when I rounded that corner.

Taking Seattle

Had a very inspirational, creative day yesterday. It was a beautiful day, almost LA weather, and yet, it felt like I was constantly being struck by lightning.

Went out to Macrina, this bakery that's supposed to be good, had a sandwich and tea, sat outside reading. The food here is not as good as LA. Given that I will be living in a place where I won't have the accoutrements to really cook the way I like to cook, I'm going to have to keep it simple. Which is good. I funnel a lot of my creativity into cooking. Now I'm being asked to funnel my creativity through words.

I checked into a new hotel, one closer to where I'll be living so I can get a better feel for the neighborhood. Asked the guy at the front desk about the local jazz clubs. I don't know much about jazz, but I'm trying to expand my experience of music, trying to feel more through music. He gave some recommendations, and I headed out to the Jazz Alley for a band called the Stanley Jordan Trio.

On the way there, I was crossing the street when I saw paramedics wheel a dead body wrapped in a red blanket out of an apartment building on a stretcher. It was unsettling.

I was seated right up next to the stage. I mean, my table touched the stage. It was kind of close for my tastes, but I still enjoyed it. The band took the stage. What is it about people, that they can seem both young and old to me? This guy looked like a 23 year old man in a 40 year-old man's life.


His technique is called touch-tap guitar, and he would play with both hands close to each other on the fret in the most fluid, intellectual expression of every nuance of emotion. It was unbelievable. He was accompanied by a drummer and bassist, though I would have preferred if the drummer just stuck with high hat/bass drum complements instead of breaking out into incongruously jarring drum solos, and if the bassist didn't spend the first song tuning his bass as he played. He was stressing me out.

The music made me laugh, it made me cry, it made me feel and taste colors and textures. At one point, Stanley Jordan got on the grand piano, playing guitar with one hand and piano with the other. Then he switched hands. The music was so electric and powerful--he turned emotional intensity into sounds the way I turn emotional energy into words. Everything was charged. Everything had meaning. It was communication beyond communication. It made me feel mute. I've always wanted to be musical...took piano lessons for 6 years as a kid (forgot it all), then taught myself to play guitar in 2003-2004, but it was always hard for me to use music to get out the emotional tones I felt, even though I desperately wanted to. I wish I could translate those powerful feelings through my hands into language, but the best language I have with my hands is on the keyboard into words. We were all blessed in different ways. But this is why I appreciate music. True music, expressing true emotions. Revealing true inner universes through language beyond language.

There was a table of Japanese businessmen and I watched them for a while. It's hard to tell the inner emotional world of Japanese men. They're very stoic outside. I wonder if because they don't acknowledge that world, if that means that world does not exist. I was watching the man in the front who watched the musicians with his arms crossed, slightly nodding, like a proud statue, when I noticed behind him this head of frizzy wild hair lean into the frame of my vision, tilting, tilting, tilting until the guy almost fell out of his chair. It was one of the guys at his table trying to get a look at me. He kept watching me for the rest of the night. Careful, I thought. Japanese businessmen in their 50's can be perverts!

After the show, I waited for a while for the waitress to come pick up my bill. The host came by and asked if I wanted to stay for the second set which would be free of charge. I told him I wanted to check out more of Seattle. He recommended 2nd street where there would be a lot of live music. I asked him which place in particular would be his first choice, and he told me which venue is his favorite, but ended by saying, "You should walk around and choose the one that feels right."

I like that. I like the interactions I've been having here.

I finally took my bill and headed to the bar to see if the bartender could close out my bill. There was a dark-haired man I'd seen working on the set up eating at the bar, next to a guy in his 40's who looked part Asian with a smooth round face and dark eyes. They were in conversation when I walked up. The guy eating stopped talking when he saw me, then asked me if I needed help. I asked him how I could go about closing my bill because I couldn't find my waitress. He said he would get her. When that guy left, the Asian guy started laughing.

"I thought you were the bassist," he said.

"You mistook me for a man!" I said.

"Well, we were just talking about the bassist and Fausto's the sound guy, and when he stopped talking, I thought it was because the bassist had walked up behind me!"

The story is, they had been sitting at the bar, commenting about how the bassist had been off. About how he didn't sound good, when all of a sudden, Fausto's eyes go wide and he stops talking, so the Asian guy thought that the bassist had walked up behind them.

"So basically, you were talking some shit about this guy and thought he'd caught you guys," I said.

"Exactly!" he laughed. "I'm so glad you weren't him!"

I confessed that I was seated right under the guy, and he kept tuning his bass and it was stressing me out. I asked, "Shouldn't he have done that before they began their set?"

He said they were in the club for 4 hours before the show. It should have been done.

The guy who'd been eating, Fausto, comes back with the waitress who takes my card. He introduces himself and when I hear his name, I ask, "Isn't that like the devil? Faustus. He made a deal with the devil."

"Yes," he said, surprised. "Most people don't know that."

"Most people don't read enough," I said. But then I'm wondering, why would someone name their kid after a tragic literary figure who made a deal with the devil?

He asked me what my name is and I told him.

"Oh, like Julia Childs," he said.

I pretend to be vexed.

"I had one goal in life, only one goal, and that's to never be compared to an elderly English woman, and tonight, you have proven to me that I have failed at life."

They all laughed.

"So, how long have you lived in Seattle?" he asked.

I calculate. "Two days," I said.

"Oh! So you're visiting."

"I'm about to move here."

"Are you moving here for a job?"

"I have to find one."

"So you're moving here, yet you don't have a job yet!" He sounded incredulous.

"I'm not worried," I said. "I'm highly employable."

He started laughing, this high-pitched surprised laugh. "Highly employable...I've never heard anyone put it like that but I like it! I like your confidence."

"Thank you," I said.

"So what do you think of Seattle so far?"

"It's been interesting. I'm ready for Seattle to impress me," I said.

"I'll get right on that," I heard a dry, female voice say from behind me.

I turn and it's the female bartender, late 30's, tough life, flipping through a battered library book showing rows and rows of pictures of flowers. She hasn't even looked up.

I start laughing. "Right after I finish my book," I said, pretending to be her. She looks up and laughs.

The waitress brings me my bill and I'm signing it as I get a text. I'm checking my phone while calculating tip, when I hear Fausto say something.

"I'm sorry, can you say that again? I'm trying to pay my bill, write a text and have a conversation." Then I start laughing. "See!! I'm multi-tasking! I told you, I'm highly employable!"

"Beautiful women get all the breaks." He has a slight South-American accent so I need him to repeat that line a few times because I couldn't understand the word "breaks."

When I get it, I say, "Break?!?"

The bartender says, "That ain't a break. That's a skill." Exactly my thought.

So I turn to her in a sarcastic sidebar and say, "What is it with these guys, they act like everything we have they gave to us when we earned everything we have?"

"Exactly!" she said, "They have no idea how strong we are." She says it like we're talking about children, and right away, I know I've got a new ally.

"You guys...," I say as I turn to look at them. "You're lucky we let you get away with giving us what you give us." But I'm laughing as I say it, so they know it's not mean-spirited. Just truthful.

The Asian guy starts laughing. He knows the girls are calling it like it is.

"My goodness," Fausto says. "This one's tough."

I say that I've gotta run. I ask the bartender what her name is. "Amee," she says, pronouncing it like "Ah-mee."

"Amee, it's nice to meet you," I say as I shake her hand. "Good luck...," I wave my finger in mock exasperation at the boys, "--dealing with this..."

I smile and wave goodbye at them. It's all in good fun.

"Come back and visit us again," I hear her say as I'm heading out the door.

I walk down to 2nd street and check out some places. Nothing strikes my fancy. I head up the street. This pasty white guy in a button-down green shirt follows me. "I'm going to follow you," he said. "You look like you know where you're going. Where are people tonight? It's a ghost town."

"They've gotta be somewhere," I said.

"I hear the place to be is Pepo's. Do you know where that is?"

"I've never even heard of it."

I think he takes that as a blow-off, because he stops walking and behind me, I hear him mumble something to his friend. I see a sign with a female ninja. I remember I've been there before...that's where I met some nice people on my last trip to Seattle, so I head in there.


While at the bar getting a drink, I see a big brutha in dreads. He's got purple streaks in his hair. I'm standing next to him, and I realize that sometimes bartenders will get a girl's drink order first, so I say to him, "Don't worry, I know you were here first." He ends up buying me a drink (I don't usually let guys buy me drinks...don't like obligations or complications), but he insists, so we talk. He's kind of a funny guy...can't tell if he's gay or not.

I don't remember how it came up, but while we were waiting for our drinks, I said, "I usually try to make the most out of life."

He said, "I'm usually happy if I just get half of what I want."

So when we get our drinks, I toast saying, "To the man who prefers his 2nd choice."

He clinks then stops, "Wait, what do you mean, 2nd choice?"

"A lot of people will choose between two things. They'll think, 'I would really love that,' but instead, go with the other thing, but then decide they're happier with the 2nd choice than they would have been with the first thing they thought they would have really loved. But there's nothing wrong with that as long as you're happy."

"I usually find a way to be happy with whatever life decides to give me," he said.

"Well, if you can be happy getting half of what you want that life decides to give you, why not be happy getting all of what you decide to give yourself?"

He thinks, takes a sip of his beer.

"I don't really like this beer."

I laugh. "Well well well," I say.

He looks me in the eye for a long time, sizing me up. Takes a sip.

"I've decided I love this beer."

"Now you're just trying to prove a point."

"Yeah? How's your drink? With your two olives and one lime?"

"Great," I say.

He wants to know where I'm from and I won't tell him, and he says, "What are you...like an alien from Alien World?" I nearly spit my drink out because I've recently decided to write about my life as an adult's children book about how I'm an alien born to human parents. But luckily I was born to an Asian family. In Texas. So no one could tell the difference.

I start laughing and say, "Alien World. You make it sound like Mega Mart. Where you can buy your aliens in bulk!"

"Get your alien toilet paper, on sale, 36-ply!" he said.

I laugh. I like people who can improv silliness.

"No seriously, where are you from?" he asked.

"Everywhere. And nowhere."

He tries to guess my ethnicity, but can't. All he knows is that I'm not from Seattle. I think it's funny how people can't guess my ethnicity. Or my mother's. We're both like that. We are both so unique and good at finding common ground with so many people, that we seem familiar to people, yet so hard to categorize. Most people think I'm mixed. Mixed of what? They can never say. But I'm full-blooded Chinese.

He says that he doesn't even know my name. He says, "You're like a ghost. You come in, you obviously have substance." He pokes me in the shoulder. "You're obviously real. But when you leave, you'll disappear and I'll have no idea what the hell I was even talking to. Do you like living like that? Like a ghost? Don't you find it so empty?"

"Trust me," I said. "I'm very real for a lot of people."

"Hmmm," he said. "I don't believe that."

I don't say anything.

"Would you say you have wisdom?"

I laugh. "We've been talking for the last half hour. Does that really need to be asked?"

"What! Most people will think about it, then say, 'Not really.'"

"What do you think?" I ask him.

"Yeah, you probably do. You're just being mysterious."

"Okay," I say. "Ask me one question. I'm one of the most honest people you'll ever meet. I have to run, but ask me any question and I'll answer as truthfully as I can."

He thinks, and thinks, and thinks. He thinks and thinks and thinks. Meanwhile, I'm watching two well-dressed guys, one of them slender and darkly handsome, really artistic looking in a lavender tie, the other a blonde guy hitting on a girl who is not so deep. Yet I notice, the two guys are matching...the artistic guy's lavender tie matches the other guy's shirt. I start laughing.

"You act like you're being tickled," Dreads says. "What's so funny?" I point out the two guys and ask, "Do you think those two stepped out of the door today intending to match?" It is a little gay. He laughs, too.

Finally, he says he's got his question. I'm listening. What could it be? The meaning of life? What is his purpose? What is God? I'm thinking, this guy has one question to ask someone who sweeps in like a ghost claiming wisdom, and he's been thinking about it for the better part of the last few minutes, so it will be a good one. He asks:

"How many islands make up Hawaii?"

WHUT.

"I don't know...5?" I say.

"Wow, that's right," he said. But I looked it up later. Hawaii is made up of 132 islands, with 8 of them being the recognized ones. So the correct answer should be either 132 or 8. Yet he took 5 for the answer.

I shake his hand and give him a hug.

"Have a great night," I said, leaving without looking back.

I walk by Amber which is the only other place I went the last time I was in Seattle. I know they serve food late, and I haven't eaten yet, so I stop in. There's an acoustic band playing. The guy is good, doing a mix of covers and his own songs, and I like that his voice has soul. If he does Amos Lee, I was going to be very happy.

So I sit at a bar and order. This good looking brutha comes up and orders a Bombay Sapphire on the rocks. I know he's going to try to talk to me because he's been looking at me for a while from across the room.

"What are you drinking?," he asks.

"Bombay Sapphire and tonic," I said.

"Really? We're both Sapphire drinkers."

We talk and he wants to know where my accent's from. I've been told I'm someone who's a bit peculiar in that I don't have an accent. As someone (from my first trip to Seattle years ago in fact) once put it, I talk like a news anchor...completely devoid of accent.

I ask him to guess and I'll tell him if he's right. So he's guessing. Not from Washington, he says, and I agree. He says he wants to say California but he's not sure.

I put on an English accent. "Are you sure I'm not from England?"

"Definitely not," he said.

Then he says he's got it.

"You're from Alabama."

I look at him like he's joking. "Are you serious?"

"I'm right, aren't I?"

wtf? The deep South?

"Sure," I said.

He says he's gotta go but he wants my number. I apologize. "I don't give out my number."

"Give it to me," he said. "I want to see you again."

"Then if it's meant to be, you'll see me again," I said.

"That's not fair. Just give me your number."

"You've got to believe in the natural order of the world. It's the way life works."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Here, I said. I open up my Notes application on my phone. This is where I store all of my observations when I'm out and about. I wrote. "Find Wall-eh. He owes me a drink because he doesn't believe in magic." Save it.

He laughs and shakes his head. "You're amazing," he says. "I'll look for you again."

The last person I met was a guy spitting game in front of people he worked with. He's what in LA we call, a "douchebag." He was holding court at the end of the bar and asked if I wanted to join their conversation. He was using the counter like he was mapping out a war offensive. I asked one of the guys he was with what the conversation was about.

"He's telling us how his game works to get women," he said.

"You talk to them like human beings," I said. "That's it. It's that simple."

So this dude who's holding court comes over and tries to spit game and I'm kind of messing with him, but with a big smile on my face. He's joking with me, and I'm joking back, but he can't catch me.

The funny thing is, the more frustrated he gets, the more he starts talking like a sassy black woman. There are 3 Asian girls standing next to me. They're looking a little awkward and vulnerable, bar chicks. These are the helpless gazelles who get eaten by predatory bar guys. So I suddenly turn to them and ask them, "Have you ever heard of a guy who thinks 'game' is talking like a sassy black girl from the South?" Then I do an impression of him as a black woman, "Giiiiiiiirl, why you wanna front on me like that? I know you wanna get a piece of this!" I do it complete with the finger wag and the neck bump. I know black chicks. Somewhere in me, I've either got a sassy black chick, or a sassy gay man...I haven't figured it out yet. There's actually a very fine line between the two.

But the girls start laughing and they ask me, "Who???" and I say, "This dude right next to me," and they look and start laughing harder. He walks into their circle and tries to plead his case but now he's really sounding like a caricature of a black woman and they're laughing at him. So I say to them, "All they have to do is act like normal human beings and talk to us like a human being. Why is it so hard for them to understand?" And the girls are laughing and agreeing, saying, "Seriously."

"Don't reward the guys who don't respect you or themselves enough to talk to you like a human being," I said, and they all nod.

To the power of the pussy. Own it. Don't let guys be idiots about it. For how big their mouths are, half the time they don't know what they're doing. We women have to respect ourselves not to accept bullshit when there are guys out there who will treat us as intelligent equals.

The guy's friends are laughing about this whole thing. When I look over, they all high five me, like this is the funniest thing they've ever seen. The first guy who had told me what this dude was talking about leaned over and whispered, "He's actually one of my customers. But it's good that you're calling him out."

He keeps trying to plead his case to the girls next to me who don't take him seriously and so he says to me, "You really busted my balls," and rounds up his gang and takes off. The rest of his boys turn and wave goodbye, big smiles.

Seattle. My God. Can you handle me. I'm a really nice person. But I'm gonna be honest, call things as I see them, especially when I see bullshit.

I'm psyched about tonight. Got tickets to Les Nubians!

I hadn't listened to them in years and last week, got really into them again. Happened to be looking through the Seattle Weekly and saw a little ad that they're going to be playing downtown. The Triple Door. Looks like a club with an intimate setting. I'm so excited.

Music and people are my biggest inspirations.

9 needs 11 to build 22.

I've been saying that for a long time.

I was struck by a bolt of inspiration last night. The person I'm here to find is the illustrator I've been searching for.

Talked to Rie today. We haven't collaborated since Cojones. It would be nice to work on something together again, have our names on the same creation. There is one more person in the triangle, and we are ready to make art.

I've learned that 11's are about ideas. 9 sits on the summit of humanity, able to explain to those who have questions what they see, trying to light the way for others, but 11's give 9's ideas for transcendence to communicate to the people.

How did I never realize until now that Rie is an 11. I think it needed to be hidden from my consciousness until now. I remember the birthdays of almost everyone I've met in my life...sometimes I can't remember names but I usually remember birthdays. Yet, despite being my best friend and trusted confidante, I have always had trouble remembering the exact numbers in her birthdate.

Have faith. Something is coming through, and it's creative and exciting.

Grow on this to make you life seem great
Grow on this to take control of your fate
Grow on this until you finally understand
Grew and grew and now the boy's a new man
So sit beside the shoreline and think about your woes
Read the whips and waves, identify your foes
Then realize in the sense of this existence
There's great resistance to the minds that mix this
Yes I've made things known but then again I'm on the downlow,
That's obvious because I'm at the show
That I rule the three planes of reality:
-Universally, mystically, conceptually-
Then in due time, you may find
That I'm living in the world of my design
And I give you one to grow on.

-UMC's

I'm going to be co-blogging about my second favorite basketball team, the Phoenix Suns, with my friend, Jason. Check it out! I think we have it in us to be the Asian Bill Simmons.

Sun-N-Gun

inglourious basterds. see it. it's fun.

Now Listening to:
Bonobo - Live Sessions

Now Reading:
The Garden of Last Days (Andre Dubus)
The Happiness Hypothesis (Jonathan Haidt)

Today I Will:

1. Apply for 15+ jobs
2. Sign up for Gotham writing workshop
3. Drop by Academy of Arts for Fall class schedule
4. Look for furniture
5. Review progress on book and be positive about it

view overlooking water from my new apartment.

I'm in Seattle! Holy cow, it's real! I'm freaking out. Excited but freaking out as well. I can't believe I'm really doing this.

I had to get up at 5am this morning to catch my flight. It was brutal but ever since I decided I was going to try out Seattle, my sleep regulated...started going to bed at 1am, getting up around 8:30. Wasn't hard at all. Felt the way it did when I was working. In so many ways, it naturally feels like I'm going into another phase of my life.

I had a session with my basketball coach yesterday and he's sad about me leaving. I really like the guy. I told him one day, he's going to be my bodyguard. He's like the big brother I never had but always wanted. Men always get offended when they hear the word "brother" or "friend" thrown around. Sometimes women use it as a boundary setting. But sometimes, it's the highest regard. For me to consider someone a friend or family is my most valued regard. I'm friendly with most people, but I let in very few.

He invited me to watch his game that night, so I headed out to watch him play. Met a lot of cool people. Isn't that just the way it works? I can be bored out of my mind for the majority of my time in LA, then as I'm about to leave, I meet all kinds of really cool people. At least it gives me incentive to make it back.

I slept through the entire flight, and went straight to the apt I was looking at. The studio was the size of a large elevator. There was no way I could live there. The one bedroom was only slightly better. The people in the office were also kind of dumb. I didn't have a good feeling. I decided to walk around, and as I did, saw a building that was really close to the water. I headed towards it and saw a man carrying a couple of coffees heading inside. I asked him if he lived there and he said his daughter does. I asked him about the building, and he said that his daughter really enjoyed living there and that she had looked around at lots of places and chose this one. I loved that. I love recommendations from people who do research, because rather than doing extensive research, I tend to accept what I get, a trait that must be mitigated by surrounding myself with people who enjoy researching things and giving out opinions. So I checked it out, and the leasing agent was really cool. She showed me a couple of places, but when she showed me this one studio with a partial view of the water, I was sold. I was told getting a water view in Belltown would be difficult without spending a lot of money, but I really hoped for a balcony where I could at least see the water. Basically, my criteria was--a nice studio apartment in a safe neighborhood in Belltown within walking distance to Pike's Place, the waterfront and restaurants/nightlife, with a balcony facing west overlooking the water. Didn't expect to find everything (that last wish for the balcony facing west was more wishful thinking). Yet, that's exactly what I found. It's incredible. Write the things you want down and be specific. I can't stress that more to people.

So even better, I'm across the street from the Seattle Academy of Art, so I can probably take photography and Photoshop classes at night. I'm around the corner from the Sculpture Garden (inspiring place to stroll and look out at the water) which is right between the water and the train tracks (I was asking around if the trains still run but no one was sure), and a block behind the pier where the big freighters pass. I'll probably spend time sleeping with the balcony door open, especially because I like being lulled to sleep by the sound of rain. If I can hear boat horns and/or train whistles at night, I will be in heaven. I will be in absolute heaven.

I honestly can't believe this. I couldn't have imagined anything better. Now...if I can do the same with manifesting the job I need, so I can generate the finances I desire, so I can have the home bases I want. I'm so inspired right now.

Outside of that, everything is really falling into place. I've asked almost everyone I've met how they got their job, and the word seems to be that the job market in Seattle is very good despite the economy. This is good news. Got a call today from someone about a independent contractor job, which is something I could potentially start with and do alongside writing and working full-time. We'll see...I have a feeling where I'm supposed to be will just "feel" right. I may or may not enjoy it, but it will be where I'm supposed to be to get where I'm going. I was thinking today, that if I hadn't been at that first apartment building, I wouldn't have walked down that street and seen the other building. And the apartment I got, had actually been leased yesterday, but it became open just this morning because that prospective tenant's credit didn't come through. Right time, right place.

My God, it's happening. This is really happening. The universe is giving me every opportunity to succeed. Now it's up to me to put my life on my shoulders and live up to my word.

early morning flight into the blue. this is where it becomes real.

of course.

arrival

09/09/09

saturday night - the other room

spent the earlier part of the evening hanging out with missed connections guy, and a couple of girls he introduced as his "friends," though he's clearly sleeping with one of them. i know this because her energy spiked when i showed up, she made a big show of touching his leg whenever she laughed, she kept lighting matches to get attention, and she bumped me as she walked past me. and he seemed a little bit whipped in her presence. she reminded me of this girl . i disarmed the situation in a similar way. just refused to acknowledge any tension, and was very careful about sending any energy towards the guy that would be construed as intent. she left for the night to try to get her roommate to come out, and things were more relaxed after that. i gave him and his friend one of my specialty brownies to split. i'm like the robin hood of brownies. i usually give them to people with spiritual questions--i'll tell them to find a 5 hour window in a comfortable place, eat the brownie, listen to music they like, and think about questions they have. write stuff down.

or if possible, i like to spend that time with them, talk to them. a couple of hours with me is sometimes better than years of therapy. it's tough when you look for all the things that are wrong with you and your life. let's talk about where you're going and what you want, then figure out what it is you're holding on to that's preventing that.

so an hour later, they're both very happy. missed connections guy (aka beau) had been having trouble looking me in the eye (but he would watch me when i'm not looking, so to make him more comfortable, i would talk more to the other girl). but now he was more comfortable and i was able to talk to him.

his friend told me what she was experiencing was incredible. she felt very happy and positive. peaceful. she said i'm very talented.

i thank her with my entire heart. it means a lot to me when i can give people this kind of experience. to tell me that what i gave them made them feel happy and gave them positive eyes to see and feel the world...that is the highest compliment.

it renewed my desire to become a shaman. the laws would have to change, but regardless, i'm telling you i could help a lot of people. that's really what i want to do most. give people positive experiences, so no matter where their life goes, they've had it. they know it. they've felt it. so they'll be able to recognize or create these experiences or feelings in the future, or in other areas of their lives. once you've experienced peace, then you'll know where to aim.

they were happy as they were leaving, great hugs all around. his friend leaned over and whispered that she was there the night he and i met and talked. she told me beau had been really happy about meeting me.

that was nice to hear. some kind of consolation.

i guess his function had been to help commit an important night to memory, lead me somewhere else. now having spent more time getting to know him, while he's very funny and very pleasant to look at, his glow feels artificial. fluorescent. lacking heat.

i was happy. the music was good, and i met some brazilian girls and helped them take a picture. they hung out with me for the rest of the night. i started texting rie. ever since she had seigo, she doesn't really go out anymore, but i sometimes like to text her when i'm out and about people watching, because it makes me feel like she's there in spirit. and for her to feel a part of the scene.

rie:
we may be moving early as nov.

me:
holy shit! to where?

rie:
berkeley or albany. he'll probaby get offers in concord, san pablo, vallejo & walnet creek

me:
oh sweet. i so welcome you closer to the bay area where you can be creative. i'm making my way there. just have to accomplish some things first

[years ago when she was living in new york and i was in los angeles, i realized that in my lifetime, i might only see her 5-6 more times. that made me so incredibly sad. i dreamed of a world where she lived in california. i could see her being really happy in the bay area.]

rie:
who would have thought we'd both end up in northern california?

me:
i did! i willed you there!

rie:
it worked!

me:
i know! i just couldn't imagine growing old without you.

*****
so i'm texting with rie, and i'm laughing and smiling at my phone because i'm so happy. i love this girl. she's the sister i never had.

this guy who'd been standing by me in a blazer and a shoulder-length triangle of hair (it looked like he'd had it permed), asks me why i'm in a bar, texting.

i tell him that i'm texting my best friend who can't come out because she has a baby.

"you're a really nice friend," he said.

"she's like a sister," i said.

i go back to looking at my phone and he taps me on the shoulder.

"so tell me what you think of this," he said. "i just tried to talk to this girl, and she told me she was married. basically, i saw this girl and it's like...have you ever met someone and you just knew...something about them, you just had to talk to them?"

"uh...yes. i believe i'm familiar with that kind of experience."

"well, i go up to her, like...my god, she blew my mind. and i'm trying to talk to her, but she tells me she's married."

"hmmm...," i said. "maybe it just means you're looking for a girl like her, but she just wasn't the one."

"but she wasn't married! she lied just because she was blowing me off."

"well, fuck her, then. she's dishonest. why are you still talking about her? go find someone better."

"what?"

"why are you still wasting time and your thoughts talking about her when there are lots of other available women in this room you could be talking to?"

"what?"

"find someone who is available instead of dwelling on someone who's not."

"my point is, why can't i talk to you without you being like her?"

"what? how am i like her? i'm giving you good advice here."

"i know a lot about psychology."

"i know psychology."

"do you have a doctorate in it?"

"undergrad work but i know psychology."

"well i have a doctorate."

"big fucking deal."

[he either didn't hear that or chose to ignore it]

"i have a doctorate in psychology, so i know people, and i'm saying women don't make any sense. like right now. i'm trying to have a civil conversation, but one of us is being shitty."

[what??]

"are you saying i'm being shitty? i'm sitting here, taking the time to give you good advice, with more honesty than you'll get from anyone else in this fucking room, and you can't even value it. fuck off," i say, casually dismissive.

i turn around and go back to my conversation with rie. he taps me on my shoulder trying to get my attention, but i ignore it.

he leans almost over me.

"okay, i'm sorry. we're both just here to have a good time, and i don't want to be remembered as part of a bad experience."

"it's fine," i say, indifferent and distracted, because rie is telling me about the gumbo she's making.

"no really, i don't want you to be mad at me."

[good god, ignorant men can be such babies. what makes him think i care enough to put energy into being mad?]

i turn around and grab his hand and give him that black guy shake + one-arm hug.

"i'm a nice person and don't hold grudges," i say. "so we're cool. but i don't have time for bullshit."

go back to msging rie and ignoring him.

less than a minute later, he and his friend move to the other side of the room.

got a free beer from the bartender.

much love.

so you're leaving just to come home, he said.

something like that, i said.

every beginning is born of an ending. every homecoming requires departure.

find what was lost, even if you don't understand what it is yet.

you have no idea the depth of this thing.

you don't either, julia.

awesome.

i was barefoot on a dark beach, the moon a bloody sliver sinking into the ocean.

it looks like mars, i said to the handsome french man, who couldn't stop staring at me.

we'd met up for tea and to take a walk.

he'd told me he wanted to talk to me because of my smile. he'd seen me smile from inside my car the day before.

the fact is, i was in my car happily singing along to careless whisper by...who else, the fabulous mr. george michael. back in the day when he was just another straight man in tight pants. i mean, i was very happily jamming, figured no one could see me. black car. dark street. i'm in shadow mode. george michael and i are good.

this guy walks by, shaved head, glasses, the ghost of someone beautiful, so of course i smiled. beamed. and somehow, he saw me.

i saw him double back later, walking past my car, and i was still jamming to careless whisper. i thought, okay, first i have to turn off the song because it's probably not the proudest moment. secondly, i have to get out of the car because i think this guy wants to talk to me.

so i get out and he's a couple of yards away on his cellphone (i actually thought he was pretending), so i go to cross the street (yours to lose, buddy)...and he comes running up.

introduced himself. said i looked familiar. he had an accent. i asked him what it was. french, he said. oh, i said.

this is intriguing what is happening here.

i'm probably looking at him so warmly because he reminds me of someone else, and the funniness of it is making me smile so expansively that it's coming out of my chest. and he's drawn in. i'm talking to him like we're long lost friends.

he asks if we can get together, and i tell him i'm moving to seattle in two weeks. he says, then we better spend time together soon. he asks why and i tell him that i'm trying to establish a secondary writing location.

he has to run, he's late for a birthday party. he texts me on and off for the rest of the night.

tonight, we were standing side by side, watching the moon over the ocean. i could see stars, but i don't trust the stars in los angeles. so many are planes in disguise. we've only spent 30 minutes together. i can tell there's no romantic connection, outside of the fact he's a really nice, peaceful person and so am i. i could tell from his eyes he wanted to touch me. probably sexually but not necessarily. just something about skin and body. he put his arm around me and asked if i would like to get closer or if i'm okay, and i said i was okay. he stroked my shoulders and neck, exploring. i like cool fingers...my skin always runs warm. he commented that my body was giving off a lot of heat, even though we're standing out in the cold. he's gentle but not testing my boundaries, so i'm not concerned. as long as he gets something out of it, and doesn't cross any lines, i enjoy it. but i tell him that i'm not looking for anything because i'm gone in two weeks.

he said that it was okay. but then he pauses. "do you mean you're not looking for a relationship?"

"i'm not looking to get involved in anything that makes me lose focus of getting to seattle. i'm cool getting to know people, but i'm not looking to get involved in anything that makes me not want to leave."

his palm gently maps the curves that make the small of my back.

i know that if i stand my ground and don't believe in it, nothing will happen. as fun as it would be to get physically involved with someone, i don't need any distractions right now. any acknowledgment of chemistry and all i've built comes crumbling down, i've worked too hard to lose focus now just because of my hedonism and love of human touch. soon. but not right now.

i focus on the moon, and keep finding topics to delve into. he's a spiritual man himself, so we have lots to talk about.

when the moon drops into the ocean, we walk around main street for another hour. he's a nice person, but there's not really a deeper connection there. he walks me to my car. he remembers it.

i say to him, "i still don't know how you saw me. i'm in a black car in the dark and you saw me smile when i saw you. how were you able to see me?"

"i don't know," he said. "i just did. i looked over and you had this amazing smile, and it made me feel i had to talk to you."

that must have been one hell of a smile, i thought.

this is the word.

my send-off will be at the hollywood bowl, aug 30th. ask your mama. the roots. incidentally motherfuckers, a 22 day. i completely didn't realize that one until now.

i will be in a powerful, spiritual place surrounded by nature, listening to music, sharing an experience with those who love me within a sea of thousands, the moon watching from her seat above.

if you understand how happy i will be, then you'll understand there's a likelihood of magic.

it will be a very good day. you will want to get involved.

i will be doing what i do best.

i already bought tickets but i think i'll sell them and reserve a row instead for whoever wants to sit near me.

i'm thinking, light. lots and lots of light.

people always think it's the herb, but it's being around me that makes them feel comfortable.

i would like to give that feeling of comfort to people and make a living from it. i want to be a shaman, bringing people's shadows to the surface. i want people to feel positive, empowered, so they will remember what that feels like when they look for it in other areas of their lives.

do you want to know what peace is?

make me comfortable and i will make you comfortable.

within that circle is your understanding.

trust the moment.

i'm in the process of selling all the concert tickets i was so happy about. oh well. going to seattle is better. that's the thing with me...whenever i buy concert tickets in advance, something always comes up. i need to just stick with buying them last minute.

at least i'll be here for next week's hollywood bowl sunday sunset show. a great way to close it out. the bowl is always a magical, religious experience.

when i was young, my greatgrandmother gave me a stuffed leopard. my greatgrandmother was an amazing woman, a very influential force who raised my mother, a woman who took care of me in my first few years. she died when my brother was in womb, and my mom wasn't able to go to taiwan for the funeral because she couldn't travel in her last trimester, and that has been a great source of guilt and hurt inside her.

i loved this leopard like you wouldn't believe, sleeping with it, chewing its ear. his tail fell off and they had to sew it back on for me. it sat on a shelf in my room as i grew up, even through college.

my parents moved out of their house in may for a year while the house gets renovated. i remember looking for my leopard, which had always been on the shelf, but my brother had taken over my room the last few years. no one could find it. i worry that they threw him out or donated him with all the other old toys to goodwill.

that would be sad, because goodwill would have thrown him away. he was too raggedy to sell or give away. he would have never meant anything to someone as much as he meant to me.

i still miss him. the way he felt in my arms, against my cheek. the way he smelled. he is symbolic of a time, of an innocence, of an unconditional love from a very kind person.

i still hold out hope that maybe he'll show up one day when i least expect it.

check this out.

some people may or may not know, that during the spring, i was living in florida with my friends, sarah and jef, writing and recuperating from 2008. while my mom and brother were traveling in china, my dad went through dizzy spells. i urged him to see a doctor who took an x-ray of his brain. the technician said there was a spot, but would need the doctor to take a look to diagnose. but the doctor was on vacation for a week. i talked to eric and he said it could be either ear or brain related, giving me a test to distinguish. it appeared brain related. we were all terrified it was a stroke.

my father had to go to florida for a court case that would determine the fate of what had been years of terror and stress. i would talk to him daily to make sure he was calm about things. sarah asked me if i should go home to be with him. i don't know. he's a proud man, and i could see him saying no because he didn't want to seem needy. i called him the day he was supposed to fly home, and asked him if he wanted me to fly home so he wouldn't be alone. he said, only if it's convenient for me.

i realized, he was scared.

i booked a flight leaving within a few hours, and sarah rushed me to the airport. i waited in san jose airport for 2 hours, surprising my dad when he walked by after getting off his flight.

my dad and i have a very cautious relationship. there are entire universes left unsaid, because we are both so unable to express love towards each other. but that week, we bonded.

he trusted me because i had been there for him even though he hadn't asked for it. in a time in which he was actually very scared, i made him feel loved and not alone. this may seem kind of obvious, but my dad is not an emotionally trusting man. deep down, i think he's had feelings that those he loves will abandon him when he needs them most, which is why he is so self-sufficient and expects very little from others.

his doctor was out of town so he wasn't able to get the results of the xray, but bad news was still in the back of our minds.

we ate a lot of strawberries. it started when i bought some from the sunday farmer's market, but then just kept buying more and more. it turned into an insane amount of strawberries. i'm talking about $30 pallets of like eighty strawberries we would eat between us in one night. every night. i don't know why we ate strawberries, but we did. it became our thing.

the dizziness went away. by the time the doctor came back, my dad said he felt better, was even starting to play basketball again, and the doctor said the x-ray was fine if the symptoms weren't persistent.

so, i was just sitting here, eating strawberries. i realized these are the first i've bought since that week alone with my dad in fremont in the spring. i reminisced about the bonding between my dad and i that week, and realized what an insane amount of strawberries we ate. and how it was very out of the ordinary.

then i wondered...

i googled "strawberries" and "stroke." Got a few links that link the potassium in strawberries to being good for preventing stroke.

source
source
source

maybe...it was an instinct.

beau is like a gazelle.
a beautiful, shiny, helpless gazelle.
by my honor, i will never eat him.

i laugh inside at the guys who can't stop looking at me even though they're with their girlfriends. i figure how deep down they must feel like such assholes, that they didn't believe in something better, even if they hadn't found it yet, and tied themselves to something "good enough," and are now missing an opportunity. remember those boys who tend to go with their second choices?...careful.

me, i always believed i would have what i felt i deserved. i was just kind enough to myself to wait until i was conscious to make an empowered decision in regards to what i saw myself deserving without tying myself down with the best of what was available even if it wasn't right. now i know what i want, as far as an absolute trust in myself that i'll know it when i see it. that's all you need. that's all that matters.

but what i'm most proud of myself for, is that i never settled and never let myself get permanently obligated to anything that didn't absolutely feel right.

did you see the sliver of moon tonight?

exquisite, like a sliver of ice on your tongue.

a sensation turned memory.

i dedicate that to you.

from birth, you have never left my heart.

well. what a strange day.

started out fairly normal but lucked out in landing a place to stay in seattle for next week, when i called to inquire about an apt for rent. i have a feeling i'm really going to like where i live.

went to the other room.

ran into missed connections guy.

but not before being asked out by a guy with a shaved head who saw me from inside my car and doubled back to stop me as i was crossing the street. i only smiled at him because he looked like someone i knew. except he was french. why do brilliant smiles + glasses get my attention?

later, there was the one i told to fuck off. i gave him a gift and he called it shit. he was immediately ejected from my perspective.

oh, these men. it has gotten to ridiculous levels. i just want to make it to seattle. this is very important to me.

but i appreciate everyone for whatever stage of their journey they're on. there's just someone specific i'm supposed to meet.

am i ready?

is the world ready.

the one thing to remember is that there is nobody in this world who has it all.

everything under that...is a wide open canvas.

9's and 7's. like moths to flame.

one is the prophet. the other, the monk.

a lot of people tend to notice my shoulders. an intriguing few remember my hands.

perhaps the fact that the sound of distant train whistles always sends me to another dimension, one heavy with safety, innocence and peace, is what should tell me that i'm already tamed.

whenever i hear distant train whistles, or boat horns, or the low drone from an 18-wheeler's wheels on asphalt as he motors cross country, i feel the sounds cutting through fog, somewhere, where it's 3am.

Little Known Fact:

In college, I submitted a very serious and well-supported proposal to the Honors College for a self-declared degree blending courses from the Philosophy, Psychology, History, English Lit and Film Studies programs in a study of human dynamics. A deep study into duality and imbalance within the psyche, and tracking and comparing cruelty and submission dynamics within societies, and how the dynamics can be interpreted through analysis of a culture's art & religion. The title? "Sado-Masochism." I could have been the University of Michigan's first graduate in S&M, Honors.

I will never forget the look on my counselor's face.

What Happened In Albuquerque from The Goods

"Oh Christ, the dildo's back."


What Happened In Albuquerque from The Goods

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Spain. I see Spain.

I just realized I worked on the same floor as the Italian American Chamber of Commerce West for 4 years, shared the elevator with them, passed them in the halls and saw them in the bathroom, and I've never said more than "Hi" to any of them.

How does that happen? That you can pass the same people every day, and never connect? Never want to connect?

I spent a good deal of my life too angry and numb to care about anything. And it was all because I'm so sensitive, I care about almost everything.

And now I'm in a different place.

Very aware. Very detached.

Balanced and at peace.

Today was a powerful day. And I tried to make the best decisions in every one of my choices and interactions. I would say I was...not necessarily nice (I did laugh at a woman who was too impatient to wait in line)...but...big.

What I do with people happens on a very small but very fast level. But the effects are very rich and all-encompassing. It happens when I pay attention. I intuitively know what things to focus on, what things should be brought to the surface. But I'm not aware of it, until I review experiences in hindsight. If people ever noticed that I spent the first 25 years of my life never really looking people in the eye, it was because I didn't know what to do with it yet...what happens when eyes connect. I didn't know how to balance the things I perceived with physical reality. But now, to an extent, I do.

I have learned to be careful. I know when someone looks me in the eyes and is dishonest. It is actually very uncomfortable for me. I don't always know what the dishonesty is or why it's there--it could be massive, it could be insignificant. It could have everything to do with them and nothing to do with me. But it's there. A flicker in their image that makes me question what they're hiding. But I put in tremendous effort towards disciplining my instinctual desire to chase the roots of what's being hidden. That is how people trap me, since I have quite the taste for human mystery, what is at their deepest darkest core. But it's unproductive. I have shit to do. So lately, I've chosen people who can look me openly in the eye, and be honest to the best of their ability, while being respectful of me and the connection.

Outside of one 14 year-old queen bee hipster chick trying to seem cool (what was she thinking!!), and AD (yeah, I totally just put him in the same group as a teenage girl), no one has tried to start shit for the sake of starting shit. I've called truce on fighting with people for the sake of fighting. What I have been projecting energetically to the insecure shitstarter types, is a sleeping lion. I will be kind and courteous, but do not forget what I am. That has kept the majority of that kind of life drama out of the way.

I am very, very, very, very, very, very, very happy about being single when I get to Seattle. Very, very very. Very. Don't know why. Just am.

Saw the preview to new Aniston movie, set in...Seattle. I was damn near orgasming every time they showed an aerial shot of the Space Needle or the city. Oh my God, Oh my God, I kept saying as I rocked in my chair. I'm so happy, I said to Brian. We know, he said. He's happy for me.

There were so many good lines in 500 Days of Summer. The one that comes to mind first is:

Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
Fuck you, whore.

the gray skies finally broke yesterday, so i headed out to the other room to watch the sunset and read the little prince. the sky was an ethereal palette, and at the table next to me was a group of happy italians. it was a wonderful way to spend dusk.

this morning, i got up as brian was taking his car to the dealership. i remembered that mine is due for a scheduled maintenance as well, and i want to get it done before i drive up to seattle, which will be as early as the week after next.

so i called, got an appointment and headed over. the rep they gave me was paul, this thai guy i worked with 2 years ago, the last time i took it in.

i told him the engine still does that weird thing where as i'm accelerating, it feels like it drops for a few seconds into neutral as the rpm spikes, then sudden kicks hard like getting kicked in the butt by a horse. he offered to do a test drive with me.

while we were driving, we started talking and the conversation turned to life potential when i mentioned the reason i haven't brought my car back in the last year even though i'm still having the same issue, is because i was living in europe. he asked me about it, and mentioned that he feels he's been living in la for too long and wonders if it's time for a change.

man, these are the types of people i always connect with--deeper, passionate people with such high potential...at a crossroad.

so we talked and it was a good connection. i told him about the list i made in 2007, and how 2 years later, i've somehow done everything except for one thing, but i have faith it will happen when the time is right. it didn't matter what the actual item point was, just that once it happens, my list will be completed, proof that if you believe in things enough and have enough faith in yourself, life can be exactly what you try to make of it. he asked what the last item was, and i told him, to meet a basketball player i have great respect for. i told him i was close...lately, a lot of people that i've been meeting are friends of his, and we almost met a couple of weeks ago, but the timing didn't feel right so i was glad when it didn't happen.

he tells me that he's from thailand, and whenever he goes back, he doesn't want to leave. that he thinks he could be very happy, making less money but enough to have a comfortable life there, but he also has a wife who doesn't want to go, and a son to think about. i told him that there's always a balance, there's always compromise. that sometimes, we have to make realistic considerations, but that should never stop our hearts and minds from looking at things for their highest potential. somewhere in between will be a balanced situation that will be "enough." whatever is right for us, we'll be happy with, because it's enough. but first we must discover what that place is, and what it looks and feels like.

he dropped me off at urth cafe and said he'd call me when my car was ready. i did my free write, and finished the little prince.

first of all....

wow.

another example of books and magic. reading this was exactly what i needed to read at the exactly right time, and scarily resonant of the things i've been writing for a long time, down to some of the symbols that are motifs in my world.

here's something interesting.

so the bahamas cruise was shallow and in a way difficult. like superficial forces in the world were challenging the reality of my rich, inner world, and challenging my beliefs. i felt so lonely being around these people, that there were so many points i would do anything just to be alone.

the 2nd night, i cut out early and went back to the room. i'd had a nasty encounter with this man at the blackjack table and was done being around people. hong had wanted to play blackjack so i sat down, playing 3rd base which is where i like to be. i feel that i'm a trustworthy 3rd baseman, willing to do what's necessary for the table. so there was this older man between hong and i. he had terrible energy, very negative, and kept talking to me, wanting to know where i was from, etc. i was keeping my answers polite but short. when he found out i'm from la, he said he was too. he said, i'm a lawyer, and a usc guy, like i should be really impressed. i didn't respond, pretending i was concentrating on my cards. instinctually, i was wary of this guy.

he repeated again, i'm a lawyer and usc guy, his eyes burning through me. okay, i said, not looking up.

you know what usc, is right? like the place that runs everything.

(i hate usc. i spent a summer there, and find the whole culture symbolizes arrogance and false entitlement)

so finally, i say, "yes, i know what usc is. i'm not a big fan, but i didn't say anything because i was trying to be polite."

he doesn't respond, but still keeps trying to get in with me. he wants to know how old i am but i ignore the question, so he announces to the table how old he is. 51. he says he's venezuelan, but i don't respond. i can feel his eyes on me. then suddenly he says, "what are you, like a poker player or somethin'???"

the waitress comes around to take drink orders and he says to me, "you want somethin', honey?" the moniker made me clench my teeth. no thank you, i say, politely.

when i lost a couple of hands in a row, he looked over at my pile and said, don't worry, you can use my money if you want.

i pretended not to hear him. i have money, asshole. and even if i didn't, i wouldn't want yours.

i was also kind of irritated with this middle-aged indian guy at 1st base who couldn't play. engineers pride themselves in being so logical, but sometimes they're very arbitrary; they just don't recognize when emotion is coloring their decisions. he kept hitting on a 15 or 16 against the dealer showing 6. it was driving me crazy.

the last straw was when this big white dude with a handlebar moustache asked if he could sit to my left, thus becoming 3rd base. i moved over so he could sit, then old man venezuela asks him if he's with me. it was kind of absurd. the guy looks confused, then says, no. and here's the kicker.

that question was just an excuse to do this:

venezuela introduces himself, sticking out his hand to shake the guy with the handlebar's hand. but he does it behind me, so he can run the back of his hand and forearm across my bare back, shake the guys hand, then slowly rub against my skin again as he pulls his hand back.

this was clearly a gross and inappropriate act of froderism.

the panther inside me let out a low snarl, baring teeth.

venezuela looks at me out of the corner of his eye. i refuse to show any acknowledgment or give him eye contact. he's an idiot standing at the edge of a cliff, the line so much closer than he thinks.

i look at hong.

i'm ready to go when you are, he says, naive to what were probably his own instincts.

let's go, i say, already out of my chair. don't even look at that sad, pathetic person.

(*saw him a couple times afterwards, once with his family while waiting for the elevator. he lowered his head and shifted behind his son when he saw me, but i saw him)

*****
that incident really irritated me, and the rest of the group was just sitting around drinking, so i went back to my room to write. i wrote about this incident, and some other things. i mentioned,

Children, whether good or bad, always find their way home. The question is, is this a good or bad thing?

the last thing i wrote was something that had popped into my head while watching the sunset earlier, and that i'd been thinking about all night:

I will never allow myself to be dominated. But I would like to be tamed.

tamed? where did that come from? i had no idea what it meant. but i don't always understand the meaning of things that come out of my mind or mouth. only that in some way, i can feel they ring true, but i just don't know in what way yet.

*****
so as i'm sitting at urth cafe today, i get to the part where the little prince meets the fox, and the fox explains what it means to be tamed. i was sitting outside on a clear, beautiful day with the sun shining down, my body reverberating with chills as soon as i read that word.

"'But if you tame me, my life will be filled with sunshine. I'll know the sound of footsteps that will be different from all the rest. Other footsteps send me back underground. Yours will call me out of my burrow like music. And then, look! You see the wheat fields over there? I don't eat bread. For me wheat is of no use whatever. Wheat fields say nothing to me. Which is sad. But you have hair the color of gold. So it will be wonderful, once you've tamed me! The wheat, which is golden, will remind me of you. And I'll love the sound of the wind in the wheat...'"

holy shit. so this must have been what my soul meant when it had written that line about wanting to be tamed, as i walked through my loneliness despite being surrounded by a sea of people.

then when the fox tells the prince a secret -- "One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes."... i suddenly understood a line i had written a couple of weeks ago in my free-write while on the cruise to alaska, the day after being mesmerized by christian but not knowing what to say:

What happened to my eyes that I can't see, yet I can see so much? In an echoing world of blindness, you find yourself a god to hang on to and you fight your way towards him with all you've got.

i've really noticed that it's become glaring, how i can't tell people's age anymore, their status, their superficial "types." i've always been able to see deep into people, but since i came back from amsterdam, i can still see deep, and now these psychic intangible but very powerful impressions are what i put the majority of my faith and trust in, but i can't seem to see shallow anymore. so the best i've been able to do to cope is to trust that these impressions, these feelings i get that i hold to be true but which other people can't seem to see, are in fact real, even though i can't seem to distinguish things that other people seem to hold to be most real.

relief. reading this made me feel relief. that i am not just okay, but i am better than okay.

then, i suddenly had a curiosity. i flipped to the back of the book to check antoine de saint-exupery's bio, and calculated his birthday. i started laughing. a bittersweet laugh.

he's a 9.

like me.

no wonder.

the soul expression and life path of 9 is a beautiful, expansive one, but a bittersweet one. often lonely. there is much time spent looking out into the sky, listening to echoes.

a man asked if he could share my table because the cafe had gotten crowded, and so he sat across from me, eating soup and working on a crossword puzzle. i got to the part where they're looking for the well, and the narrator is carrying the little prince in his arms. he says, "'What moves me so deeply about this sleeping little prince is his loyalty to a flower--the image of a rose shining within him like the flame within a lamp, even when he's asleep...And I realized he was even more fragile than I had thought. Lamps must be protected: A gust of wind can blow them out.'"

my eyes teared up. i was exasperated with myself but i couldn't stop. it was going to happen. tears spilled. oh, how embarrassing in public i can be.

like david gray wrote and which i always repeat, "the only things worth living for are innocence and magic."

the man asked me if i was okay. yes, i said.

but even if i knew why i was crying, i wouldn't have told him.

antoine, you beautiful fellow 9 traveler...

thank you.

*****
when i got back to the dealership, i sat with paul for a while, talking to him about his life path and goals. i told him to write everything down and put the list where he could see it every day. so many people don't even really know what they want in life, so the first step is to know what you want. be specific. how can life give you what you want, if you are unclear yourself about what you are asking for?

there was suddenly a loud crunch.

he jumped up. oh no, he said. someone hit your car!

we went outside and it was this little old lady who had been trying to drive out of the service area but misjudged the space. my back bumper was dented.

she felt really bad and was shaken up, but i told her it was okay, and laughed about how these things happen. it's just one of those things, and maybe this little accident prevented something bigger. that maybe if she had driven out, she might have been hit by some idiot texting someone and not paying attention. sometimes these little inconveniences are life's way of protecting you from the big tragedies.

so i spent time talking to her so she wouldn't fall into a negative affect cycle. i learned that she's from calgary, retired, and was a former biology and chemistry teacher. that she had been living in la since 2003, but had originally moved to cupertino with her husband after they'd retired. that she has 2 sons who are writers as well, one on the simpsons, and one on bones. i tell her that a good friend of mine, jessie, is an assistant to one of the simpsons writers, and text her to find out who. jessie texts back the guy's name, but says she knows the woman's son and that he's a really nice guy. the woman was happy to hear that, and i tell her that children who grow up to be nice people show that they were the product of good parenting. someone from the body shop comes out to give an estimate, and we exchange information. she thanks me again for being so nice and for not being angry and yelling at her, and i said, i'm very happy with my life, so it's easy for me not to be stressed about little things. life unfolds the way it unfolds, so you can either resist it, or make the most out of every moment.

paul walks me to the front to get my paperwork done. he tentatively asks me how i feel about the accident, if i'm upset, and i laugh and say, "i'm too happy with my life right now to get upset about anything." he says that these things sometimes are blessings, that maybe because this accident happened, it kept me from getting into a bigger one if i had left when i was going to leave.

i started laughing. that's exactly what i told her!, i said.

i tell him that perhaps the next time i see him, his life will be in a completely different place. i told him that i feel he's on his right path, and he's going to be very happy. he thanks me for the talk and tells me, good luck in seattle. before he leaves, he asks, who's the basketball player who's the last one on your list?

i laugh. baron davis, i said. my family and i sat behind the warriors bench during that miracle run, and he and i used to exchange looks a lot. he's on my list just for proof...so people can see that i did "magically" accomplish what i set out to do. proof of the effect of faith and belief in yourself, that life gives you exactly what you ask of it. plus, baron and i have got it in us to be good friends.

he laughs as he shakes my hand. that's truly amazing, he said.

doing as the rich do...eating plastic grapes while sailing my yacht.

stretching someone professionally does not lead into erotic massage. that is ridiculous.

as predicted, last month's trial came in the realm of karmic love, and this week's would come as sexual boundaries. can i maintain my own boundaries? can others respect them?

the overall answer is, yes. you must.

it doesn't matter what you set out to do. it's a matter of if you believe in yourself to carry it through. and this was how i chose to discover the extent of myself.

i'm going to seattle next week. everything is coming together so quickly, so easily, almost like slipping through a doorway into another room. it surges me with courage, how sure i am that i need to do this now, and i feel it is an overwhelming feat, but i will have faith in myself.

i suddenly understand what people mean now about finding the right place. i've been unhappy in la for a while. not unhappy with my life, but unhappy with the city and what it does to people. but to be honest, i also need it because it rejuvenates me and i treat it like a trampoline...it's so healing yet repulsive, it pushes me into the next place in my life. love/hate...though beautiful with everything a person needs. i don't think seattle is my home base, but i feel it will mean something to me. it has always reminded me of the place inside myself where i hold my deepest, most peaceful things. it has always felt similar.

i am walking into it with optimism and realistic eyes. i'm not looking to "find" something in seattle. i'm most excited about what i will "do." that puts all the responsibility (opportunity) on me, but also, gives me the passion and reins to make something unbelievable out of it. when it comes to drive, i'm a winning horse. just have to maintain focus and have faith.

Things I Will Do:

1. Finish Secret Life of Lies.
2. Publish Bleeding Blue.
3. Win an award for Off the Strip.
4. Write a successful personal empowerment book.
5. Become a recognized healer.
6. Become a powerful speaker.
7. Before I die, lay it all down in The Guide to Recognizing Your Soulmates.
8. Meet a man named Chauncey.
9. Find the blue man with olive skin.
10. Be surprised when it happens.
11. Own the luxury writing cave with a balcony facing west with views of the water.

Classes I would like to take:

1. Photography
2. Spanish
3. Mythology
4. Comparative Religion
5. Behavioral Neuroscience
6. Ballroom Dancing
7. Photoshop

i have been pondering the mystery of my post last week about the man who will give me away. i feel like by giving it time, down the road, it will become clear.

Concert Wishlist

1. Gorillaz
2. Damien Rice
3. Amos Lee
4. Poe
5. M83 (at the Disney Music Hall)
6. Morcheeba/Gotan Project/Air/Zero 7/surprise appearance by Beck (in one line-up. this is the lottery)
7. David Gray at my wedding (it's gonna be a good one)

new moon today. no moon today.

every time i write the word "Seattle," my toes wiggle from giddiness!

wow, i'm not messing around. have told my parents and close friends i'm going to seattle, e.t.a. 3 weeks. have contacted housing agents and sent out my resume to amazon and some other marketing/sales positions. talked with a headhunter, will send out more resumes. will have to plan to go up next week during the week to meet.

get ready, seattle. i'm comin' like a freight train...

The Devil card is often misunderstood and feared. However, before Christianity became a leading religion, there were several pantheons which contained fertility gods and they were often depicted as animals - the Horned God of the Wicca for example, servant and consort of the Goddess. The Devil does not therefore necessarily represent an evil being.

The Devil is the personification of the animal, instinctual and even bestial parts of us. Pre-occupation with matters connected to the Devil can lead to degradation and sheer ugliness, but by identifying and accepting the darkness within we learn to discover that it is simply the dark side of our light.

Affirmation: I am free to do as I choose.

(source)

i don't abide by any religion or concrete system of belief. but i do believe that sometimes what people fear most, within themselves and how they see the world and others, is that a person can ultimately choose to be free.

oh, the most beautiful man walking his dog at the park.

i smiled leaving my car, crossing the street, then stopped in my tracks because for a second i thought he was tr knight. i love tr knight and always want to stop and talk. but then i realized he was not tr. he was taller and leaner, with giant, clear eyes. and kind of gorgeous from the inside out. he waved. i waved. pretended i was waving at the dog? yes i did. walked away. stunned.

i've never come to the cafe at this time. have never seen him before. this is what i like about venice. you can see the same people, or you can never see the same people. it's like lazy waves on a beach.

the indulgence of the idea was tempting. but i immediately wiped the image of whatever i thought i saw from my mind. not the time. now i probably wouldn't be able to pick him out of a police line-up. i'm trying to stay focused. there's a time and place for everything.