The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

AMAZING book. Already one of my favorites. It only took a total of a few hours to read, but, oh my God...it's the book I wish I had written. It moved me and made me feel less alone in this crazy world. It reminded me to count my blessings and hardships and to appreciate them for making me so unique. And to appreciate all the amazing and quirky people around me who love me unconditionally and whom I love unconditionally. Congrats to Stephen Chbosky! For a writer to touch so many people in such a deep way...that is exactly the magic that communication and creativity is all about.

Some quotes from the book:

"It's like when you are excited about a girl and you see a couple holding hands, and you feel so happy for them. And other times you see the same couple, and they make you so mad. And all you want is to feel happy for them because you know that if you do, then it means that you're happy too."

"...we accept the love we think we deserve."

"Not everyone has a sob story...and even if they do, it's no excuse."

"Then I turned around and walked to my room and closed my door and put my head under my pillow and let the quiet put things where they are supposed to be."

"...because things change. And friends leave. And life doesn't stop for anybody."


read this book

Hauntings: Emotional Imprints

Awesome...just got an email from a scientist studying paranormal activity. I had explained to him something that I believe to be true about places that are "haunted" and wanted him to tell me what the most widespread theories are, and he told me that my beliefs pretty much hit the nail on the head, which made me feel really validated. There's so much random non-empirical knowledge that I was born with that I don't talk to people about because I have no way to prove things, but it feels good when I find out that something I've always believed to be true is a conclusion/theory that has been reached by others.

Anyway, here's the thing that I've started to become more open about.

That house my family moved into when I was in 4th grade and everything went downhill...from the very first day we moved in, I felt that the guest room was haunted. That room was supposed to be mine and they moved all my stuff into it and everything. But I had a really bad feeling about it so I ended up sleeping on the floor in the room across the hall and my parents had to move all my stuff over to the other room when I refused to live there. I've always avoided that room and the closet especially scared me. Around that time, my brother started having seizures at night and wet his bed consistently. My parents were constantly arguing, sometimes near-violently and I became extremely withdrawn and moody. I also started waking up with nightmares in the middle of the night, where the air was crackling with static (I thought they were aliens talking to each other) and it felt really crowded in the room and I would be scared shitless.

I need to stop here and explain something. I've always been extremely sensitive. You know how they say that if someone is blind, their other senses will over-compensate...so for instance, they will have an amazing sense of hearing or smell? I know people always make fun of me because I can't hear, and my sense of sight and smell aren't great either. But I'm very sensitive to energy. The wavelength/type that I'm most sensitive to is negative energy, or the places that hurt. Empathically, I can feel out pain in other people, even if it's extremely repressed. Sometimes, if I concentrate or if they have a strong need to have it weeded out, I can tell pretty specifically what the pain is. Other times, it just feels like someone is directing a lot of static into me and I feel it (it translates to noise or pressure in my head). Have you ever left a TV on, maybe on Video 1 because you were watching a DVD, and even though there's nothing on the screen, you walk by the room and you know that the TV is on because there's static in the air? It feels like that. Some places, things, people have higher energy and I can feel that static. The same way I feel that someone has left a TV or CD player on or the way the room fills with static the split second before the phone rings.

This residue energy is the reason why I don't like places that are old, I don't like vintage clothing stores (these places are LOUD with energy!!!!!!!!), I don't like to wear other people's clothes or be around people who have very negative people around them. Everything is very loud and it gets very distracting for me and tiring for me to block it all out.

So this house...the energy is centered around the guest room. It's a very high energy room. But it has negative energy that isn't always on high, but when it is, it's scary.

I used to try to toughen myself up by locking myself in the closet of that room with the lights off, and learn to relax despite being in the epicenter of this negative energy. I still remember those experiences as the scariest of my life and I really don't think anything will ever scare me more. But it also made me realize that these things (the energy) can't hurt me and there's a peace to that.

So here's the story. The script I'm writing is called The House and it's about a woman who ends up returning to the house in which she was killed in a past life, but she doesn't know that history. But the thing about this house is that it's not haunted by "ghosts," per se, but the house, like our minds, conjures up the traumatic instance over and over again and the only way it can get relief, is for her to break out of her own internal cycle of torture. So the house has maintained the burned emotional imprint of a trauma that happened within its walls. I had originally written the script as though it were haunted but that never felt accurate so I've been sitting on this story for a long time. But one night last week, I went into my weird "zone," which is when I'm pretty much asleep but somehow I'm not so I have access to certain information. This time, I called my mother because I had a message for my mother (which I'll exclude because it's personal). I've never talked to her about being afraid of the guest room but I told her that the house was haunted. But not by people ghosts but by a bad thing that happened in the room. She said that no one could have died in that house because it had only been built 4 years before we moved in. I asked her about the family that lived there before us and if there was a little girl, a little girl who is very afraid and then at night something bad happens. She couldn't remember so I told her that there was a little girl who lived in that room and she is very scared and now the house continues to be scared for her.

When I woke up the next day, I realized that houses can be haunted not just by the spirits of those who have passed on, but by negative energy left by a traumatic event (like a rape or a beating or anything in which someone exudes a great deal of emotion, splattering the walls with it, if you will). Thus, how I realized the way my script needed to go to be truthful. Like when people fight in a room and you walk in, you can feel it still there even if those people have left and you didn't even see them. I think that when we go through something horrible in which we are very angry or scared, we give off energy that is absorbed by our environment. Kind of like, if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to see it, did it really fall? Well, yes. Because the forest saw it. And if it screamed in agony when it fell, the forest heard it as well, and maybe it scared the forest, even if by "scared," I mean, the forest absorved the tree's fear/pain and made it it's own. Can we absorb energy the way we absorb sunlight? I think we do.

I think something bad happened in that room once. And all I'm saying is that I'm extremely passionate about issues regarding children and inappropriate sexual behaviors which is unusual because there's nothing in my history that has shown that anything has happened to me. I also think that when a place holds negative energy like that which hasn't been resolved, it will affect those who inhabit that space. I have said time and time again that when I first walked into the office of the tutoring company that I worked with, that it had really bad energy. It SCREAMED. And through good times and bad, I was always extremely anxious to the point of having a panic attack whenever I was in there. I still can't figure out if it had to do with something that had happened there, the people or the dynamics of the people, and I really tried to figure it out like a mystery, even though I didn't like to be in there (like when I used to make myself sit in that closet in the dark). But I know that it vibrates with that bad energy, and when finally I quit, I was so relieved about never having to go in there again. And even though I still need to return my materials, the one thing I refuse to do is step foot into that office, even if George is the only one there and I like George.

Have you ever watched The House of Yes? That is a great movie. You can almost feel how, so many bad things happened in that house, that the house almost has a negative energy of its own that helps perpetuate the negative things that happen between the people. Maybe if people changed locations, they would have an easier time resolving their negative cycles. Same concepts as feng shui, I guess. That an environment brings its own energy that can affect people. It may not necessarily have to do with the arrangement of things affecting destiny or whatever which sounds pretty sketchy, but maybe like, if you have a cluttered bedroom, you won't feel as good...if you live in a place cluttered with negative energy, you'll start feeling negatively and will start acting negatively and thus, perpetuating bad things in your own life. And changing your environment (ie living somewhere else) might be enough to help you get back to feeling good.

I used to tell people that I hate going home. Going home is such a love/hate relationship because I love my family but I always get depressed when I go home. But I've been listening to myself speak and I started noticing that when I refuse to go home, I always say, "I am not going back to that house." I think, deep down, I have a problem with that house. I think I would worry about my family less if they got out of that house.

My father's wise response to my wolf story:

My personal view is that the woman is very nice and kind, but you can never trust a wild animal even it shows all the nice gestures and love. There are better ways to be nice and care but not stupid enough to get yourself hurt.

On the other hand, we are dealing with people, human beings here. Sometimes, you just can not tell what is under that face and heart. Always be very cautious before you are fully committed. Constantly watch for those little signals and signs of those people you don't know well.

Life and relationship is just like your own house, you don't invite everyone to your house. Some of them, you may just let them in to your living room as a courtesy when you need to; some of them, you let them in to your living room to share more personal life. You just have to be very careful when you let someone to your bedroom and personal life.

You guys may not agree with me, but this world is too complicated. We want to be nice and caring, we shall also be protective to ourselves and our families.

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

You guys want to know a secret? Everyone knows how difficult my last relationship was; but I promise you, everything happens for a reason. Remember how I told you, "The devil likes to play a drowning man...don't give him a hand..." ? Well, this man (and I use the term "man" here very loosely) was determined to drown and after lending a hand and nearly drowning myself, I walked away. Here's the thing; here was the information that I was given beforehand, before making a decision to take on this life challenge. Dated 11/2/02 (4 months before we started dating). What I was shown of him and our future:

* We challenge each other. Powerful sexual attrraction. But M is not in true partnership mode. He's attracted to me, but thinks he's good-looking and knows a lot of girls. He's playing with life, makes up his own rules of the game. He's a fool who is not developed enough to think outside of his own skin. He's a flirt but at this time, he's pissed off at a girl so he's playing games. But he thinks I'm smarter than him and is afraid that I will figure out his game and beat him at it. He hides his feelings and is very calculating. He has his own mating game (for example, he likes to ignore girls to get a reaction). Likes to play with people; he's playing with life. He's trying to work out my game and sees me as being strong. He will try to play me.

Anyone who knows us will know how accurate this is. Creepy, huh? So why did I go ahead with it anyway? Because I don't like to think that things are that bad in the world, that people can be so rotten. Because I want to think that I can use my knowledge and passion to change things and help modify when people are off their paths. And I was always taught to never leave a man behind. But then came all the lies. All the lies I got caught up in that he told me, all the lies we got caught up in that he told himself. And the bullshit and the disrespect (Mike...did you really think I wouldn't find out about the things you said???)

But is this one a lost cause? It doesn't matter to me. I only know that I have washed my hands of him. He wants the train wreck that he's heading for and I don't want to be around in any capacity when that reality comes around the bend for him and manifests. Because it's horrifying. But it's not my life and I walked away because it's not my responsibility. And this is a lesson for which I am grateful.

I have learned to appreciate those people around me who are true. Those who have that rare inner light and strength. And as much as it has saddened me that I have not always appreciated it, it makes me count my blessings even more that I can see and experience the true beauty around me. It reminds me that I need to contribute to those who are living, not those who are dying.

I hope to continue growing and becoming a better person, and learning how to give to the world so that one day, we can all be strong and filled with light. And for myself, I know that one day, when I'm ready, I will bring home a son-in-law that will allow my father to feel that he no longer has to worry about me.

Here's a little story:

During a long and particularly harsh winter, a woman gathering firewood in the forest finds a wolf lying by the side of a path. He is starving and bleeding from a wound on his side, and looks to be on the brink of death. Because she is a kind woman who could never turn her back on anyone or anything in need, she picks him up and carries him home. She feeds him and bandages his wounds and nurses him back to health, and for weeks, the wolf would lay at her side by the fireplace, letting her stroke his head as he slept. Sometimes, he would lick her hand affectionately to show his appreciation and love. She became used to the wolf and even loved him, as her unconditional kindness had created a bond with this wild animal and had made him her gentle companion. One morning, she awoke to find her door open and the wolf was nowhere to be found. Deeply saddened, she searched the surrounding woods and left food out on her doorstep every morning in hopes that he would return, but he never did. She never saw him again and the abandonment by her lost friend broke her heart.

Does this story seem sad?

Here's the story from a different perspective:

During a long and particularly harsh winter, a wolf can not find enough food to feed itself. Starving and wounded from fighting for prey, he drops to the snow-covered ground, wheezing out what he believes to be his last breaths. Through his half-closed eyes, he sees an old woman approaching from the distance. The wolf knows that if he had more strength, he would rip through this woman's neck with his teeth and take her down. But in his current state, this is impossible. Luckily, the woman is a kind woman; she takes him home and nurses him back to health, sharing the food off her table with him and bandaging his wounds. The wolf greatly appreciates this woman's kindness. He lays by her side at night, and accompanies her during her foraging expeditions, loyal and protective. But deep down, something gnaws at him--he knows he is still a wolf and his nature is to kill. As his strength increases day by day, he begins to feel his predator urge creep up on him, particularly at night, when the woman lies sleeping in bed, her vulnerable flesh exposed. The wolf can not deny his nature even if he wanted to. Knowing this and because he loves her, one morning, when the door becomes unlatched by the wind, the wolf leaves, going back to fight for his survival in a harsh winter landscape rather than risk letting his nature hurt someone who has extended such kindness.

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

I came up with this story as an analogy to describe an understanding of a recent/not-so-recent experience (take your pick) which I won't go into detail about. I figure, if you have been through this kind of experience, then you will understand the true meaning of this story. If you have not, then just take this as a story.

private message to self-

i hope someday,
you'll let somebody love you

Venereal Day: The Morning After...


Happy Post Venereal Day everyone! Hope y'all had a great one. I had one of the better V-Days to date...even better than that one a few years ago when I went out with that drummer from that band...

Went to Cheesecake Factory with Brian, Roxie, Jake and the fam to celebrate Michael's birthday since he wanted to do it in LA. We had an interesting porn debate at the bar. I'm hoping that Roxie can hook me up with this girl she knows who's an ex porn actress. Okay, I don't mean "hook up" in that way. I mean...I've been trying to get on a porn set to write a "trade" article. I don't know why I just put quotations around the word, trade. It's a serious article. Just a standard set visit article written objectively by a credible, established freelance writer who has published many industry interviews and set-visit features. I don't know why people keep accusing me of just trying to talk my way onto a porn set. And watch people do it.

Anyway. We took a picture of me snorting sweet and low off the table through a rolled up $1. It looks pretty realistic so I'm not going to post it anywhere because I don't want to have my character questioned (I mean, I'll post pictures of myself with a loofah stuffed down a pair of hot pink spandex butt huggers while wearing a mesh tank and a flaming pink robe and cowboy hat, but I won't post any sweet-and-low snorting photos). Jake and I met up with some people for drinks in the valley. There was a cool cover band featuring a woman who sounded like a man. It's funny...I used to love Bon Jovi back in the day, but I don't remember Living On a Prayer starting with the line, "Tommy has a 2-inch cock..."

I don't remember a whole lot after that. It was a late night. We got up early this morning to head over to Big Bear so Jake and my mom could ski and I could fall asleep with my face pressed against a filthy food court table while my brother wrote a history of Mercedes M-Class Automobiles. Good times...

Actually a great, chill weekend. I'm not getting out of bed tomorrow!

OH. MY. GOD.

You know those scenes in horror movies where the family comes home from dinner and all the lights are off, and they notice, something's wrong. "Where's Sparky?" They look everywhere and the kids are calling Sparky's name but there's no sign of him, until the wife flips on the lightswitch in the master bedroom and screams...because someone has decapitated Sparky and left his mutilated body on the bed. You know what movies I'm talking about?

Well, there have only been two times that I've felt like that, like I've suddenly stepped into a scene in a horror movie. The first was when the pharmacy let my dad pick up my birth control pills when he went to pick up some cough medication. I came home from work to find the little pink oval packet lying on my bed, and I almost screamed (in case you can't tell, Asian households are repressed).

The second...I have a stack of mail from this week that I haven't been able to look through yet. But a few moments ago, Brian picks up a package addressed to my dad and says, "What's this?" It's a large envelope with Bush/Cheney '04 emblazened on the envelope. Inside, the print letter says, "Thank you for being a charter member of Bush/Cheney 2004" and included, there is an 8X10 COLOR PHOTO OF MONKEY-FACE DUBYA AND HIS WIFE.. I freaked out. To discover an 8x10 Color photo of monkey-face Dubya and his wife in my home, is like finding out that someone had taken a huge dump in the middle of one of the rooms in your house, but you just now discover it, days later.

I think I'm going to have this picture framed and put it on my desk at work.

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! There's a lot of muck that you have to wade through to find that gem, but when you do, you'll realize it was all worth it. I hope everyone gets some love tonight!

I found this article

("TV's Best and Worst Boyfriends" http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/4193247/)

Here's an excerpt cappin' on Ted Danson's character on Cheers, who's an anti-commitment freak:

Romance has its ups and downs, but it is a rare young girl who lolls about her bedroom, listening to music and dreaming of the day that someone will come along who will grudgingly tolerate her.

This reminds me....

I once had a guy tell me (among other really selfish, self-absorbed things):

I don't ever want to get married. But I know that I'll have to some day because that wouldn't be fair to my kids.

Okay, buddy. But you've got to find someone with low enough self-esteem to marry you first.

Oh my God! I still giggle sometimes when I think about the absurdity of that statement. I mean, doesn't every girl dream of having a guy who will put down the remote long enough to take his hand off his balls and out of his sweatpants, look her lovingly in the breasts and profess his delusional self-centeredness? I thought it only happened in fairy tales!

Okay, first of all, Mr. I'm-Every-Naive-Girl's-Dream-Guy-In-My-Tiny-Delusional-Head, you're not all that. You're a sad, little, transparent boy who missed the bus to Manhood. You're not developed enough to think outside of your own skin. And when scientists finally discover the center of the universe, don't be shocked when you find out that you aren't it. You ARE all that to those girls who are so fucked up they'll do anything to find someone who will keep fucking them up because they can't value themselves otherwise, but in Grown Up Reality, you're nothing. You don't even register on the radar of people who have real thoughts and direction when they pass you on the street. And the day you get your head out of your own asshole, you'll realize that 1. You're a profoundly selfish coward who has no sense of reality or of how to interact with people like a normal human being; 2. You are going to have a long, productive life self-inducing your own misery and happily going out of your way to destroy anyone who tries to get close to you; and 3. You may be able to fake being something you're not for a while, but you have my word...no sophisticated, self-respecting girl will ever have anything to do with you.

So you were right...I was completely wrong about you. But you managed to pull the wool over my eyes for a while, and for that, I applaud you and say, "Good game."

Good luck finding the mother of your children.

Creepy... http://www.tinyplace.net/almas/photos.htm

Click on "Ghost Girl Video"

What do you think? Real or not? I can't decide. Regardless, I missed her the first time I watched it and then saw her the second and I just about peed my pants (I was never known for my bravery in the face of the supernatural). Scary filmmaking if you aren't paying attention.

http://tlewis777.tripod.com/G.H.O.U.L.I/

Another crazy site. I've been listening to their audio recordings and watching their videos. Pretty freaky.

Writing this horror script has whacked up my head. All I do is research haunted places, locations of grisly murders and parapsychology. Stay tuned for my theory on ghosts.

Sometimes, a stone is just a stone.

I think we expect too much out of people sometimes. And it creates a horrible situation for those people, because they want so badly to be as smart, as amazing, as kind as you think they are, but it may not be something they're inherently capable of being. People who expect too much of themselves (perhaps due to an overly critical environment during the developmental years), will in turn expect too much of the people around them. And sometimes that expectation is a set-up, because inevitably, the people can not fulfill such lofty expectations. But it creates a really tragic event, what happens when these two people have to part because the cycle of their interactions has become so detrimental to their well-being. Perhaps the responsibility of each human being is to not project rigid expectations onto others, particularly expectations to those around us who are emotionally vulnerable to us. Because this forces them to try to be something that they are not capable of being, causing a lose-lose situation. We should also be very honest in saying whether or not each person can fulfill what we would want from him/her. If the answer is no, we must either decide that we can be content with who this person realistically is, or we must have the discipline and strength to walk away rather than go forth into a situation where both parties will end up worse for the wear. This is a very hard lesson to learn. But remember, the driving, internal need to affect those around us and to make them fit the projection of what we want them to be is really psychologically harmful, and creates heartbreaking, painful results. So as unpalatable and pointless as it may seem, it would be quite beneficial to our own psychological health and to the quality of our relationships with others to be very aware of our expectations of others and make sure that these expectations are realistic and can be fulfilled.

my ex?

he was a clown

Okay, ladies...I've been trying to think up bad scenarios and here's one: What's worse? Stumbling into a bathroom in the middle of the night, half asleep, and just about falling into the toilet because someone has left the seat up and peed all over the rim, OR...sitting down and letting go at the exact moment you realize that someone has left the cover down?

The Game [For Women]

The Rules are bullshit. Here are some of my personal, proven monkey-psych tips for dating and the art of the pickup, in honor of V-Day. This covers stuff outside of getting a one-night stand because I don't think anyone needs tips for that because getting a hook-up is really easy.

Body Language

* If someone is interested, he will mirror you. If you're not sure where the guy you're on a date with stands, do small gestures and see if he follows. I usually take a sip of water, or whatever beverage I'm having. If he takes my cue and is unconsciously motivated to also pick up his glass and take a sip, the game is on. [sidenote: FAKING IT. You can make a person think you guys are on the same page so you must have awesome chemistry or let a guy know you're interested in him by mirroring him. Do the small unconscious gestures that he does, or sit/position your hands the way he does. He won't pick up on it, but his subconscious radar will]

* Watch where the guy angles the core of his body. This is the line that runs through the middle of his torso, from his crotch to his chest. When he's talking to you if he directs his core at you, that's really good. If he angles it away from you, that's not good. Note: If you have a boyfriend and he's cheated on you, is thinking about cheating on you, or has a secret that he's afraid to tell you because he thinks it's going to affect your relationship [ie your willingness to give him some] he will defend and hide his core. This is something to look out for if you suspect that something's not right in a relationship.

* A guy who is sitting with his legs open (as opposed to crossed) or crossed in a way that leaves his package area open and framed (by his legs and his hand placement) is probably interested. At the very least, in hooking up.

*Find a reason to touch him. Just a gentle brush against his arm or a playful bump as you're walking. If you want to be a player (I've recommended this to people and it works really well), whisper, "Don't move." Then lean in slightly (within dangerously close kissing distance), gently touch his cheek with your fingertips as if you're brushing something away and then look him in the eye and say, "You had an eyelash on your cheek." This creates an opening for some mad muggin'.

Conversation

* It's all about your date. This sucks but if you want to play the dating game, this is surefire. Talk about him. Ask him a lot of questions. Maintain eye contact. Really process what he's saying. Ask follow-up questions. The best conversationalists are good listeners. Then after the conversation, the guy will feel really good because pretty much, he got to talk about what he cares about most...himself. If you don't want a guy who's a narcissist, then pay attention to whether or not he reciprocates by asking you a lot of questions about yourself. Usually this technique is also a good gauge of your date. I'll ask a date a lot of questions but if he doesn't reciprocate, chances are that he's selfish and/or narcissistic, which pretty much correlates to being disappointing in bed.

* Demonstrate that you remember the things he says or the things that are important to him. If he mentions that his best friend's name is Rob, then if he mentions later on something like, "My best friend came over last weekend...," ask, "Is this Rob?" Do little thoughtful things that show that you remember things he likes or doesn't like, or opinions that he has by referring back to them, mentioning seeing/hearing something that made you think of something he said, or giving him gifts/informations (tokens) that show that you listen, remember and care.

* I hate monikers. People who constantly refer to the person they're dating as "babe" or such when they talk to them bug the hell out of me because it shows detachment and often fear of intimacy. I'm usually very careful about getting involved with someone who does that; it's a red flag. It's the same psychological coin as why we refer to certain people by nicknames (ie The Hot Black Guy, Orange On a Toothpick, Troll, Office Whore, etc). We're not really dealing with the fact that they are people and it helps us keep from completely relating to them as such. If I respect someone (and especially if I respect and care about someone), sub-consciously, I'll use his god-given name a lot. I'll say, "Thanks, Brian" instead of "Thanks, babe," even though I do use monikers every once in a while. Under the surface, people do notice when you call them by name and it makes them feel good, almost in the same way remembering their birthdays does.

* People trying to distance themselves emphasize differences. People trying to get together emphasize similarities. Finding shared qualities or outlooks correlates with the basic tenets of companionship and understanding, which is what dating or relationships are predominantly about. So emphasize similarities, but don't be too obvious about it. You should have a somewhat general idea of the guy and his personality when you go out, so try to show the aspects of yourself that share similar likes, dislikes and perspectives. If you know that the guy is interested in a certain type of music, then mention that you went to the concert of a band that he's likely to like. If he's into sports (as most guys are) mention that you used to play or that you love the Lakers or something. Throw out stats and he'll probably ask you to marry him. Don't wait for him to ask, what kind of music do you like, do you like sports, etc. Throw it out unsolicited, and if it's a hit, he'll think you're pretty awesome. Also, be observant of the things he says and does. If the guy talks about his family, he's probably family oriented so you'd be better off mentioning something about your family to show that you're also family-oriented. If the guy's got a stamp on his hand from the strip bar he went to last night, you'd probably score points by telling a dirty joke or two or hinting at things you find to be a turn-on. You've got to custom-tailor your interaction off the cues you get.

* Sports, video games and movie quotes. The way to a man's heart. Ladies, just try. Follow one sport casually, or watch Sportscenter at the gym. You just need to know a little bit to impress. Here are some current comments that should win you some points: 1. Did you see the Pro Bowl? That was insane. The score was like a college basketball game's; 2. LeBron should have at least made reserve on the All-Star team; 3. It sucks that in Grand Theft Auto Vice City, you can't bang hookers in your car; 4. Did you see the half-court game-winner that Nick Robinson made against Arizona? [note: Nick Robinson plays for Stanford]; 5. When's Halo 2 coming out? 6. Any line from The Simpsons, Half-Baked, Office Space, The Godfather trilogy or Scarface.

* Sex. Guys are intrigued by girls who hint at it, joke about it, are somewhat mysterious about it, but are not overt about it. Being overt plays to the lowest common denominator and shows low self-esteem (you have to use the easiest way to get attention). But if you have an open attitude about it and can be witty about it, that's cool.

* Mix it up. Don't feel like you have to present just one image. Show the different sides of you. Maybe this is just a gemini thing, but like Meredith Brooks says, I'm a bitch I'm a lover I'm a child I'm a mother I'm a sinner I'm a saint, blah blah blah. But don't be schizo crazy. Just don't be afraid to show different facets of yourself. I jump back and forth between sinner/saint. Not intentionally...it's just the way I am. But it works pretty well.

* Be self-assured but don't brag or name-drop. Exercise some humility. Because people who brag and name-drop are pretty much waving a huge sign around that says that they're really trying to impress people but have no confidence. They don't feel like people will like them by just getting to know them, so they have to list achievements just to let other people know that they are worthy of being admired. It's really annoying. This goes hand in hand with not talking too much about past-relationships/sexual encounters. You would think this would be obvious.

* Dumb, boring people are the ones who play it safe by not talking and playing it standoffish. You can do that if you're just looking for a hook-up, but you chance hooking up with the kind of really shallow guy who wants dumb, boring girls who have nothing to say (because these are the only kinds of girls who won't make him feel inferior). Very importantly, shallow guys tend to be bad in bed because they aren't in tune with what a partner likes but more with what they've seen in movies or what things they've had reinforced as pleasurable for a woman by girls who were faking it to be nice.

Date Ideas

* Start off the first date with something where you're interacting or sitting side-by-side. Physical closeness with low lighting does wonders for instant comfort and intimacy. Getting coffee sucks unless you need to get to know this person better, because the situation (sitting across from each other with a barrier) can make more intimate things harder to initiate later on or may require a second date. But it's fine. If you want to get more comfortable, a movie and then coffee is better, or a comedy show and then dinner. I prefer a comedy show because humor loosens people up and gives you something to talk about over dinner/coffee. I usually take dates to The Groundlings improv show.

* Competitive activities. Okay, I've been accused of using basketball as my MO but it's true. Basketball involves contact, friendly competition and sweat. And you can check out your date in shorts when he's not looking. Or feel him up when you're going for a rebound. This usually works and is a great simulation (teaser) for...other physical activities to come. And you can create little bets [ie...if I win, you buy dinner, etc] Board games are good, too, as well as go-kart racing, going to the batting cages, or tossing a baseball/frisbee around at the park.

* Just do something. The only thing I'm against is starting off a first date with dinner, coffee or some other awkward, contrived situation where you're just sitting across from each other with a table in between you and talking. This creates a higher chance of each person presenting more of a persona, and less opportunities for guards to come down and having honest, spontaneous interaction.

Above all, the most important thing is to be yourself and imperatively, to have confidence in yourself. Don't "present" because most people can tell when someone else is not presenting his/her true self and usually that's related to someone not feeling comfortable with himself or herself. What a huge turn-off. Confidence is the sexiest thing in a man or a woman-- it's the magnetic energy that draws others to him or her. People who don't have a good sense of themselves or true confidence are pretty much guaranteed to not get the quality of partner or interaction that they want. Good luck!

Tartufo and Titties

Just got back from a trip to the bay area with Jake. It was his first time to San Francisco and I did a pretty crappy job of showing him around since my family can't get it together and out the door by early afternoon. I took him to the Golden Gate Bridge, which is neither golden, nor a bridge. Talk amongst yourselves. No, wait, it is a bridge. But it's red. Or rust. Or a more descriptive color whose name I would know if I had more gay friends. Anyway, we looked at it. Paused for as long as what felt appropriate to mimic reverence, then spent a few hours trying to find parking in Chinatown. The Chinese New Year parade was going on and that was really cool. For as long as we've lived in the bay area, none of us has ever been to this parade. My mom kept saying that just hearing the beat of the drums makes her heart quicken, thinking about her childhood. It's amazing the way we'll miss the things we leave behind.

We had dinner there and then went to meet up with Aubrey and Candice in North Beach. My mom only drove the wrong way up a one-way once. We had my brother with us and since he's 19, he can't get into bars, so we planned to meet at a restaurant and grab dessert and wine. As we drove up the main street in North Beach, with huge neon signs advertising strippers and XXX Adult Movies- The Nastiest You've Ever Seen, my mom started mumbling somewhat jokingly but very anxiously, what is this?...where are you taking us?...is this the right place?...are those strippers?

Walking up the street to meet Aubrey and Candice, we lost my mom and my brother in the crowd. We waited and after a few moments, my mom hurried up with my brother in tow. She grabbed me and whispered, He was standing outside the strip bar and wouldn't leave. [Story follows: my brother so wants to hang out with the "big kids," that he's really conscious that there are a lot of places he's excluded from because he's under 21. So when he walked by the titty bar and saw the "18 and Over" sign, completely missing the towering photo of a near-naked woman straddling a pole, he vehemently insisted on going in there because he was old enough. He had no comprehension whatsoever of what this place was. Yes, friends, car alarms are indeed, very sensitive.]

We met up in a quaint, intimate little Italian restaurant decorated with such classical aesthetics as a topless Mona Lisa on the wall and a seated female statue wielding an American flag with the flag stick propped up in her ceramic crotch. And Candice enjoyed an unobstructed view of the men's room toilet from her seat. We were real low key...just had desserts and chatted. I really wish those two lived closer because they're such beautiful people and I miss them so much.

This morning, I met my mom in the bathroom and the conversation went as follows.

(I don't remember what she was saying right before this conversation because I wasn't listening).

Mom: ...yeah he was so excited to find a place that would let him in. [pause, then wistfully] but one day we'll need to let him go.

I stop rinsing off my face and look at her in the mirror, cleanser dripping into my eyes.

Me: Go where?

Mom: He's going to need to find out sooner or later.

Me: Are we talking about the titty bar?

Mom: The place where women dance.

Me: He needs to find out sooner or later that women strip?

Mom: No! You know. What men do.

Me: That men watch women strip?

My mom is already gone, having gotten distracted and left the room.


I think what she was trying to say was that someone has to take my baby autistic brother to the titty bar because apparently, that's a male rite of passage. That's not a dysfunctional notion at all.

I'm bored so I wrote a pretend personal ad.

I am:

25 year-old, single Asian female, non-smoker, social drinker, non-allergic to most furry animals. Basketball fanatic, Sunday static, braving the world on a whim and a prayer. Born psychic, hyperactive, cycle goes depressive depressive optimistic depressive (optional rinse and repeat). mellow-mellow tantrum thrower, I'm-not-yelling-who-says-I'm-yelling, I'll beat you if you start to blubber. Broke a mirror then never got laid, spent college thinking I hope I'm not gay, ate plant food once cuz it was out in the sink (mama said, you'll put anything in your mouth). Speak Chinese, Spanish and limited Bosnian, my tongue is longer than yours I swear. Systematic mental erratic growing pains never felt so good. Corey Haim is better than Feldman but Feldman is better than Haim plus Hart. Please don't eat me said the cheese, so I shaped him into a little man and kept him in my freezer. Dreams in color, sometimes three-act structure, but every once in a while I think they're memories. Got no ass, but a shitload of class, my potty mouth can get me in trouble. Gasoline will kill an ex-boyfriend's rose garden, no officer I was not trying to burn down his house. Spastic, yeah, and got no balance, yes that was me that ran into the wall. Walked into men's rooms six times in my life, only once was intentional and no one said thank you. Passionate, obsessive bleeding heart, but closet loather of fat people at buffets. Cry or laugh myself to sleep, please cuddle with me, I'm the make-out queen, I haven't been the same since the Giants lost the World Series. Mama, just killed a man, put a gun against his head pulled the trigger now he's dead, i am not a robot i am a human being.


I am looking for:

A guy who doesn't have bitch tits.

It's official...the moment that I save up $50,000, I'm going to disappear. I'm going to travel the world at whim, go wherever my antennae tells me I need to be and experience life until the money runs out. All I know is that I'm searching for something and I don't know what that is, but I'm sure as hell not going to find it by sitting here in this god-forsaken town, with each passing day taking me closer to the end of my time here.

According to Merriam-Webster:

Hail Mary
1 : a Roman Catholic prayer to the Virgin Mary that consists of salutations and a plea for her intercession
2 : a long forward pass in football thrown into or near the end zone in a last-ditch attempt to score as time runs out

According to Ron Z.:

Hail Mary

If you get a chick pregnant, you tell her, "Baby I love you and I wanna marry you, but if you get an abortion, we'll have a big wedding, buy a house, get financially stable and then have kids."

streamed by Julia 8:57 AM

When you're substance-free, you realize, life is lonely, isn't it?

I love rainy nights. There's a peace to them. A safety. It seems as though rain is one of the few things that can keep the darkness at bay, the darkness that creeps in from under the cracks of the doors and crawls along your skin, resting its cold, oppressive head on your chest. Darkness doesn't so much have claws as a subtle weight that drags you down from the inside, so slowly, that you don't notice it's taken you until the emptiness collapses you from within like a hollow shell.

Tonight, I am thinking about a boy I knew in the 5th grade. He was a really nice kid and always treated me with respect and kindness even though I was a very angry person.

I had transferred to a public school for the 4th grade when my family moved. My parents had discovered my brother's condition and decided to move us to another town, into a house on a hill in a very isolated neighborhood, away from the potential scrutiny of neighbors and friends. I went from being well-liked at a private Christian school, to a soft, easy target for public-school bullies. I was angry...I hated my parents for ignoring me, I hated my brother for causing the slow disintegration of my family, I hated the other kids for the way they treated me and I hated the teachers for looking the other way. But most of all, I hated the loneliness--the silent poison that tinged every single waking moment and seeped through my body during the abandonment of night.

This boy sat in front of me in Mr. Banfiel's class. We'd talk every once in a while and he struck me as someone with so much warmth. Sometimes, when he walked by and knew that I was having a bad day, he would give me a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. I could never react in a way that showed appreciation, as by then, I had learned that showing vulnerability meant getting attacked. But it goes beyond words how nice it felt to have him reach out to me in that way, to show me that someone acknowledged my existence and was willing to reach out with kindness rather than with cruelty and destruction.

He also showed me how a person could cut himself. How, if you used ice cubes to numb a body part, you wouldn't feel the needle tear away at your skin. How, if you were brave enough, you could create scars that made up homemade tattoos with single strokes to produce crisp, clean lines, rather than having to slowly carve away at yourself.

We stopped talking to each other when we moved on to junior high. By high school, he was cutting class and getting into all kinds of drugs and trouble with the crowd he hung out with. Meanwhile, I had pretty much checked out mentally, with my only goal being just to get out of high school alive.

Tonight, I am sitting in my posh Los Angeles condo, nearly 15 years later, with the rain pounding away at the windows as my rumbling heater emanates a cozy warmth. And I'm thinking about him. I'm wondering where life took him and how he's doing, and I hope that he is also somewhere out of the cold. I pull up the left leg of my black work slacks and run a finger along the inside of my ankle. By the glow of my computer screen, I can see the smooth skin of my leg--soft, even and unblemished. But I know what was once there.

In hindsight, I can see that he was a very troubled kid, just as in hindsight, I've come to realize that I was as well. Could anyone see the hurt in these children? Did people notice and not reach out a hand? Did my friend manage to make it out of childhood intact? They say that life is about getting over the traumas of childhood. Some can do it while others are overtaken by it. Sometimes I think life is about refusing to replay the tragic films of your past once you've recorded them. Because you spend too much time in the darkness experiencing a painful loop rather than creating better mementos.

Wherever he is, he probably has no idea of the impact he had on my life, or of the positive warmth that I am filled with when I think of this child, who despite his own personal pain, reached out to comfort another. This is one of the things I think about sometimes, small kindnesses that are given without solicitation and are taken without thanks, that remind me that we are all challenged, yet we are all blessed, and that we must never forget to perform the small gestures. Sometimes it's the little things that have the greatest impact, long after you are gone.

Brian said yesterday, "I feel like Bran Van 3000 and your blogger are your new imaginary friends."

Well, I'd like to address that. I would think that of all people, MY ROOMMATE who nearly shares the same astrological chart as I, would be more sensitive to the fact that I just got out of an intense, extremely meaningful imaginary relationship with an imaginary boyfriend, and the pain of this separation still hurts me beyond words within my deep, vulnerable, imaginary places. It is not every day that you meet an imaginary soulmate who makes you feel like such a strong, imaginarily black woman as this amazing imaginary man did to me. And when I found out that he cheated on me with that damn whore who works at the DMV, with the hot body but ugly face and over-compensates for it by acting really slutty and talking non-stop about her prowess in kinky sadomasochistic situations to anyone who will listen when in truth she's just a scared little girl rebeling against her overbearing, Bible-thumping mother, it pretty much broke my imaginary heart. But when I found out she gave him a not so imaginary STD, well, that made me imagine giggling uncontrollably for hours. And hours and hours.

So lay off me. I'm wallowing in imaginary self-pity and I'm lucky to have imaginary friends who are willing to be supportive.

Today's mood: I-just-watched-The-Big-Bounce-so-how-the-hell-do-you-think-I-feel?

The Berlin Wall came down, too. And shortly after, people realized, it's JUST A WALL. It is an object you can climb over. God will not strike you down. It's just the crazy people on the other side who make things dangerous. Bullshit politics, just a power play by men with unchecked egos who lack enough scruples and respect to manipulate weaker men. They create symbols of fear and then feed that fear by bullying the masses. Children are born into the world and taught to fear this wall because their parents do, and their parents did, but these kids have no idea why. And it goes on until this wall, this graffiti'd hunk of concrete, becomes this monster that could mean not just death, but the destruction of your soul and everything you believe in. The collective fear snowballs into phobic proportions. Again, IT'S JUST A FUCKING WALL. We need to stop letting people fuck with us. They tell us what we should be afraid of, because somehow, the people who clawed their way to the top GET to dictate what people should be afraid of, and what we're taught to fear is probably beneficial to some ASSHOLE sitting on his high horse (or in the oval office, or in some palace somewhere) to further his personal selfish agenda. We need to force ourselves to THINK FOR OURSELVES and keep an eye out for selfish agendas that aren't looking out for the collective. Not necessarily be dogmatic. But just make an effort to not just blindly accept things as they're handed to us, especially when it comes to how we're told to perceive our world, and where we should place our values. This is the responsibility of every individual human being.