I Found My Heart in San Francisco



From time to time, I travel to different cities to attend trade shows for work. Our biggest trade show of the year is this automotive trade show held in San Francisco this year. I've never been to this show and was booked to attend last year, but I ended up going to the Super Bowl instead. Usually, trade shows evoke mixed feelings. On one hand, I get to travel to a different city, and I get a per diem. On the hand, I have to attend a trade show. This means aching feet, married middle-aged midwesterners staring at my chest and the millions of millions of chances that someone stumps me with a technical question and I faint from sheer discombobulation while I spin frantically trying to pull an answer out of my ass. Sometimes I wish I had the power to instantly distract people with something shiny. This tactic certainly works on me.


In terms of this show, most of my major clients are in the automotive industry so I talk to these people on a weekly basis. I've never met most of them, so I try to imagine how they look in my head when I'm on the phone with them...a gravelly voice with a slow Texan accent I see as Colonel Sanders. The impatient, cold voice I see as a wall street type with dead eyes, and the warm, cute voices I think of as a suit with a blindspot where the head is, because I imagine these guys being the kind of guys who, if I looked over and saw them in a crowded bar, they would take my breath away. I don't know what this kind of guy would look like, so I leave it up to discovery.

I was more excited than usual about this trade show because I was about to finally meet these people and find out who these people really are, the faces behind the curtain. There were a few clients that I have particular warm feelings towards, so I was really excited to finally meet them.

I flew in to San Jose a day early so I could go to the Warriors game with my family. They lost to the Bulls who were short Hinrich, Deng and Gordon, which was unbelievably disappointing. This was also Webber's debut, and knowing this, Baron's first play was a lob pass to Webber ahead of the "fast" break. My God. If that man wasn't moving in slow motion, then I must be smoking crack. He looked shocked that he suddenly had the ball in his hands, and even more shocked that he was ahead of the break, meaning he had the sole responsibility of delivering the ball into the hoop. Like a first-day participant of fat camp, he laboriously stomped his way to the basket and missed the lay up. The entire stadium was really hoping he would be some sort of answer. After the game, the commentators were saying that it's going to take a few games for Webber to adjust to the team so we couldn't judge him based on tonight's performance. I think there's a lot of hope in this city, and we really want to see this signing work, no matter what the facts might turn out to be. Let's hope for both parties (the team/fans and Webber), it works out.

The next day, I had to get up early to take Michael to work and then head out to the convention center. He came and woke me up and I asked for ten more minutes. He came back after he ate breakfast and I asked for ten more minutes. He came back after he was showered and ready to go, and I asked for 10 more minutes. He said, "Julia, I'm late for work. Dad's gone. Mom's gone. You're my last hope." He said it so earnestly. I laughed and told him, "Then I better get up and take you to work!"

I dropped him off and was sad to do it. It's always so hard to say goodbye to Michael. I headed out to SF, picked up my coworker, and we set out to the convention center to set up the booth. I'll tell you, I hate setting up the booth, and I hate tearing it down. It stresses me out.


I checked into the hotel and headed back home for a Chinese New Year's dinner with my family. Okay, amendment. I was supposed to have taken BART home and picked Michael up at the gym, but I got sidetracked by my discovery of H&M's, and spent an hour shopping, only to realize Michael was stranded at the gym. Jesus, I'm such a negligent person sometimes.

We had dinner at my aunt's house and the highlight of the night was explaining a Blame the Dog t-shirt with a picture of a dog and a mushroom cloud coming out of its ass, to my 5 year old and 3 year old cousins. They now know how to say fart in Chinese which cracks them up to no end.


I had to take Bart back to SF in the middle of the night, getting in shortly before 1am. Looked at the show schedule, realized I had to be up by 5:45 am. Was miserable.


Day One.

At the King George Hotel in Union Square, they sometimes might offer you hot water for your showers. After taking a lukewarm to cool shower, I told the front desk and the guy looked at me and said sheepishly, "Hmm...well, ah...I don't know. I think we should have hot water today." Are there some days without hot water? I chalk it up to the mercury retrograde and head out to the show.

Our booth neighbors:


Directly across from us is a guy who looks like Phil Hartman with 20 more years of heavy drinking. He tried to get people into his booth like a circus barker. Yelling flirtatious nonsensical things at passing attendees, telling them that he wanted to tell them a secret, etc. He was kind of annoying but kind of captivating like a fender bender on the freeway that you're pissed at for blocking up traffic but which you'll still gawk at. The funniest thing was, the one time he actually got someone in his booth and was doing his sales pitch, we accidentally sent a miniature Nerf football flying into his booth, right between him and his customer. We were horrified. Amazingly, he didn't miss a beat and continued the pitch. I think we could have bounced it off his head and he wouldn't have noticed. He was an intense salesman who had lured the lamb to his lair.


Next to him was a father-daughter combo selling logo-ed teddy bears. We thought she was 7. I saw her drinking coffee and I almost wanted to go over and say in a trust me because I'm an adult and have the right to patronize tone, "A young girl like you shouldn't drink coffee." But later we found out she's actully in her 20's. And that God told her that her life purpose was not to sell teddy bears, but to work with orphaned children in China.

Next to us was a software company out of Orange County and they were cool. A tall brutha in that booth had a thing for me, so he spent a lot of time staring and making conversation. My coworker thought a girl in their booth was hot, and the two were trying to orchestrate a trade to trade me for her. I got mad about it. You better at least be getting an All-Star and a lottery pick for me. It better not be a freaking expiring contract.

The first day was busy, and our entire executive team was there to take some potential investors around to meet our customers. I wanted to go with my boss to meet my customers but he said I had to stay with the booth. I felt like I had been brought to Disneyland, but told to stay in the car. I was pissed. Later, I found out from a customer that they basically ambushed him and told him that we had investors and to tell them what they loved about us. My customer was joking and nice about it, but he said he felt totally put on the spot but he did a good job of covering and saying that everything was working and great. I think he said some nice things about me because the investor came up to me and said he was very impressed because everywhere he went, when they asked who their account manager was, they all said it was me, and they all seemed to love me. That was amazingly validating.


I had to stay with the booth for most of the day, though we did have lunch at California Pizza Kitchen where a random woman next to me regaled me with stories about an amazing dinner party she once attended in Aspen with the founders of CPK. She even insisted I take a sip out of her sangria. It was kind of weird, but also kind of comfortable.

I met one of my customers who I knew is a young guy who went to U. of M. Once we had found this out a few years ago, I had actually googled him and found an old college website of his, so I knew what he looked like. It was great to meet him and he even gave me a hug and said he felt like we'd known each other for a long time. I was a little intimidated because he's very smart and technical. So of course, I got shy.

My mom, Michael and Jason met me at the convention center after the show and we took Bart to the Oracle to see the Warriors play the Kings. Two great things happened. 1. This obnoxious Kings fan next to us got so excited about a play, he accidentally poured his beer on a coach's head. I looked over and the guy's back was all wet and his hair matted with beer. He looked like he might jump up and murder this guy once the shock passed. Then he screamed at the guy something about putting the beer away you damn fucking lush. They made up later, but here's the way I see it. If you showed up to work like every other day, and you're wearing a nice suit. You're going about your day, minding your own business and out of nowhere, you suddenly get doused on the head with cold beer...yeah, you'd be a little surprised and pissed.



2. This girl stole one of the player's Gatorade from the bin behind the bench, and the same coach told her to come back and return it. She turned around like she didn't know what he was talking about, then dropped it and the whole thing broke, sending a river of Gatorade cascading down the steps. She was really obnoxious. They threw her out, and she wouldn't go, grabbing on to seats, and doing this jellyfish act. She seemed drunk at first, but then we realized she was probably on X, because she was touching everything and everyone on her way out, even made a grab for the players. Really messed up fans tonight.

I get back. Can't find my coworker so I just go out. Head to that one bar with the giant Tiki God. Had a $7 Blue Hawaiian. Can't believe how much less expensive drinks are out here. Hate the crowd. Head to Kell's which I have had great experiences in and I wanted to see if it's as good as I remember. On the way, had a homeless man tell me I'm beautiful and if I wanted to go back to his house. You'll love it, he says. It's outside.

Kell's is packed and have a couple of vodka tonics ($7 again! Unbelievable). Met a young Asian guy who wanted to turn pro as a surfer. He was kind of purposely laidback to the point of being obnoxious. He came up and started a conversation but then I turned him down when he asked me to dance (I just didn't want to dance with HIM). Later, we ran into each other and chatted, and he told me it's too bad we have nothing in common, because I'm focused on work and he's focused on life. I'm sorry...what? He got all that from my saying that I'm in town for work?

This other Asian guy had been following me around and I kept evading him because I didn't want him to talk to me. He caught me when I sat down, and his pick up went like this. He said he wanted to ask me a questions, and one question only. He said he wanted to know what I thought of a guy who still had a picture of his ex, becuase his friend's girlfriend was uncomfortable about it. I asked him where his friend kept the picture and he said, in a photo album. I said, so what's the problem? He said that she was really jealous about it and his friend didn't know what he should do. I told him, I think your friend should be an adult and figure out his own problems. The guy was talking to me but he was dumb. Really aggressive but dumb. I even got up and tried to ditch him by talking to other people, but he would just be aggressive towards them because he didn't want them to be cooler than him. I decided I wanted to go home, so I told him I was leaving, but he wanted to walk me out. I said I was okay, but he insisted on leaving with me. So I just told him, I have a boyfriend. He said, well, is he here? If not, what's the problem. I said, "He's black. And he's angry." I turned my head and the guy was gone.



Day Two


I woke up excited. Today I was going to meet my clients. In particular, there was one client I wanted to meet because I'd been working closely with him, and I liked the sound of his voice. He sounded really cute and we had an easy, fun relationship. I had asked my coworker who visited them for me at the show last year what he looked like and he said he was young, cute in a I'm trying to be hip but I'm a nerd kind of way. So I'm thinking a New York, artsy/techie creative type who's cute but approachable. Totally my type. So I've been totally psyched about meeting him. Maybe he's the one. Maybe he'll complete me. Maybe we'll have cute mixed baby's together with exotic names raised on organic baby food. Maybe we'll wear matching scarves when it's cold outside.

My boss had met him a day before and upon his return, he cryptically told me that my customer really, really wanted to meet me. I had butterflies. Maybe the excitement was mutual? I tentatively asked my boss, "He's young right?" He replied, "He's skinny. Like toothpick skinny. Super super super skinny. And he looks just like [our balding engineer]. Except he's half his size. So he's basically a really skinny version of [our balding engineer]. And he's older." My stomach drops. My hopes are dashed. What the fuck did my coworker talk to? It didn't sound like my client.


So I visit the clients I know first, then finally, head over to the one I had been most excited about. I didn't even bother looking at name tags. I just looked for the the skinniest person I could find, apprehensive, not willing to give up all the imagined good feelings and romantic possibilities that have psychically passed between us as we've built our business relationship despite never having spoken of anything remotely personal. But it was all there. I swear I'm not delusional. Well, at least about this.

He saw me before I saw him. I was walking by and he was with a customer, but he must have had really good eyes to catch my name tag, but he smiled and waved. I'll tell you, I could kill my coworker because his description of this guy was nothing like what he looked like. He looked a lot older and was indeed how my boss described. But still, there was something very warm and familiar about him and his smile, like we'd been friends forever and it was great to meet up again. I lied when I got back to the booth and told my coworker I was pissed at him for misleading me about the way this guy looks and getting my hopes up. But to be honest with you, I wasn't disappointed.

He pantomimed for me to wait, but I pointed at my list and mouthed that I would come back. We stood there, smiling at each other and I reached out my hand to shake his. "I'm really glad to finally meet you," I said with a big, genuinely happy smile. The flash of the gold band on his ring finger did not go unnoticed.

I went back a few hours later with one of our executives but he wasn't there. He had invited me to a party they were hosting via email the week before, so we picked up our party passes and left.

I met a few more customers, and the day was overall uneventful. Our CTO complimented me that I would be good at tech support because my thinking is very logical, and I took that as a high compliment from an engineer. One of my customers looks like Lt. Dangle on Reno 911, so I couldn't help but keep cracking jokes with him because I expected him to appreciate humor. He's a pretty serious guy and the owner of a major company so the jokes felt as inappropriate as they did compulsive, but he warmed up and that was a good feeling. I was in a really good mood, and it was affecting people.

On our way out of the convention center, I heard someone call my name. I turned around and it was my client running up to me. How does he manage to sense me? He's got a good radar for me, considering how good I am about being in stealth mode. He apologized for not having had time to meet me, and I told him not to worry, I'd come back but he wasn't there. I told him we'd picked up our party badges so I would see him tonight. He was happy that we were coming and it was good. A good, warm, happy feeling.

I took my coworker to get a foot massage, then we had dinner at a place in Chinatown with a damn cool fishtank (there's a little yellow fish that looks like a slug that I loved) and good food. We got to the party fashionably late, and I started with a Patron shot and graduated to tequila and coke, something an armyman I'd met in Cancun had taught me. A few minutes in, we ran into my client. I spent a while chatting with him, but I didn't want to monopolize his time and I also wanted to check out the rest of the club, so I told him, "Well, I'm sure you've got a lot of people to talk to so I won't take up all of your time." I was surprised when he said, "No, I don't really." Oh. So stayed and chatted some more. When my coworker got bored and declared he was going to check out the floor downstairs, I told my client I was going to go with him. He kind of looked a little offended, like I was politely saying I didn't want to talk, so I told him I would see him around. I did not fail to notice his wedding ring did not make it to the party.

The place had 4 rooms with different types of music, acts (dancers, contortionists) and open bars. We met up with our VP of business development who I constantly bump heads with, and our CTO. Our CTO is from Israel and declared that it's impossible to get him drunk. So I ordered him a quadruple whiskey. We hung out for a big and I pointed out a cougar with fake tits dancing on this stage to our CTO. He declared that he had no idea I was so cool. I asked him why he wouldn't think I was cool. He said that in the office, I'm so professional. haha. I told him, I'm a Gemini. I am definitely at least two distinct people.

I left the guys in this one room because they were gawking at girls and bumped into another one of my clients. I was in mid-conversation with him when he kisses me. Just a peck. I say, "Oh, okay." He tells me that he comes to LA a lot and stays at this hotel by the beach, and if the next time he comes, if I'll come have drinks with him at his hotel. "Just you and I?" I ask him, apprehensively. "Yeah," he says. Oh crap, I think. "Thanks, but my boyfriend's getting tired of all my late night client meetings," I simultaneously joke and lie. I know it kind of implies that I usually *would* sleep with my clients but my (fictional) boyfriend is tired of it, but I don't care. That was the best way I came up with to get out of that situation.

I move to another dance floor and bump into my wedding-band less client again. He caught me in conversation and we ended up talking for the rest of the night. He was funny and interesting...I was impressed by how fast his wits were. He wanted to know how old I was so I asked him how old he was. We had a little stand off so I asked him what his Chinese zodiac was to guess the year. Then we found out we were both born in June, though he's a Cancer and I'm a Gemini. He told me that he shared a birthday with George Michael. I said, "No way! I share a birthday with Boy George! Maybe your gay and my gay can get together and schedule a public restroom rendezvous." It was surprisingly comfortable and easy. I was pretty sure he was feeling me, and at least intellectually, I was feeling him. The party was ending so he said that a group of them were going to hit another bar and that I should come. I told him I had to find my coworkers and ask them, and he told me that he just say my coworkers leave so I should just go with him. I quickly say, "No they didn't." We're kind of quiet for a while and he says, "I'm sorry. I just lied." Like he felt bad. I say, "I know." He asks me how I knew. "Because your heart rate elevated and your pupils dilated," I say, really dryly. His eyes get wide and he says, "Really???"
"No!" I laugh, "I don't have Terminator vision. But it'd be really cool if I did."

I end up finding my coworkers and we head to another bar and meet up with my client. But while we're getting drinks, my client says that everyone is actually going to move to another bar. I tell him we're already getting drinks so we're gonna stay, so I say goodbye to him. Meanwhile, I'm still ordering triple whiskeys for my CTO who's wasted but claiming he's not. That night, I learned that this douchebag I work with thinks that I'm a bitch to him at the office because we have sexual tension. Gross. I told him, "I'm a bitch to you sometimes because you waste my time. Don't come into my office if you're just going to waste my time. It's that simple." And then he held my hand in the taxi ride back. WTF.

My other coworker told me that I'd be dangerous if I really let loose my feminine side.

That's the secret. I'm tough and I'm strong and I'm fast. It weeds out the cowards who might think they have a chance with me. And after that, when I meet someone who has courage and is also intelligent and a good person, I'll show him everything. I'll show him what it is these guys get a glimpse of and want to own so badly. So don't think this facade is all calculated. I know what kind of power I have inside me, and I recognize that it's special. I only want to give it to people who deserve it or need it. People who are good people.

Day Three.

Okay, tequila and coke is not okay. I couldn't even stand straight up in the shower this morning. I got up an hour early but it took me close to two to shower and get dressed. I had to lay back down for a few minutes. My coworker waited for me and we cabbed down to the convention center late. Luckily someone else was there to cover but it was a rough morning. I'm sure it was rougher for my CTO, who had to drive into Silicon Valley with the partners, and who I had pumped about 15 shots of whiskey into the night before (later, apparently our president told my coworker that if we ever deliver our CTO to him in that kind of condition again, he'd kill us. My coworker was nice enough not to mention it was mostly my doing). We made it through the morning, I had some chicken soup for lunch, found out this really cute guy I had been feeling the day before and had looked for all day had actually come back seemingly looking for me, and I'd missed him. So dark haired guy from San Diego whose warm, brown eyes I was swimming in as I fucked up my demo nervously, I want to date you.

I met with my client from the night before to give him a demo, and he was once again wearing his wedding band. Triiiicky....After the demo, I thought that was that. He'd been totally professional so I figured the night before had just been my delusion. But then afterwards, he asked me what I was doing that night. I said I was going to a Warriors game. He told me to call his cell if I did anything afterwards.

After the show, I got a call from Rie who lives in Lodi. She drove over a couple of hours and we had dinner in North Beach. It was great to see her and she gave me a red kimono from Japan. I told her I would wear it to the show and seduce all the middle-aged bald businessmen.

She gave me a ride to Oracle and I met up with my family for the Warriors game. They almost got beat by the Wizards but made an amazing rally in the final minutes of the game. Said goodbye, headed back for Bart. Michael almost followed me back to Bart for SF. That kid loves me, and I love him.

My coworker calls me and tells me to call my client to find out about any parties for that night. I text him and he said there's nothing going on. I say there's an Irish pub that looks like it's hopping, but it's mostly people from the show. He says he's staying in. I write him back for him to have a great trip home, but I guess he didn't get it, because he texts me and asks me if I'm ignoring him because he's staying in, and that it's not nice. I call him and tell him I had texted him a nice message but he hadn't gotten it. We talk for a bit and I wish him a safe trip back.

That whole thing was strange. I wasn't physically attracted to him, I knew he's married which is something I don't go near because it's complicated and not ethical. But talking to him was almost like talking to an old friend. It was very happy and comfortable. I'm a little nervous about how it will be when I have to call him for work. I hope it's not awkward and I hope I can conduct myself professionally. I hate losing my reference point...how familiar I should behave with someone given the situation. I have this problem because I see inside people so easily, that I can get familiar/intimate with them fast. But then in the light of day, it's hard to remember at what level our relationship actually stands in a logical sense. I wish I didn't make things so complicated.

Day Four.

The show was slow. The dark-haired guy never came back. Now I can only hope he calls me because he has my card, if only because I want to refer him to one of my customers so I can strengthen that relationship by giving them a favor. We pack up, I drop my coworker off in Chinatown, buy some pastries (egg tarts, fruit tarts) for my family, and drive home. Michael wanted me home by 4:30 to take him to the gym, and he was so happy when I got there. The housekeeper told me he'd been waiting for me all day by the window. Man, I don't know how that makes me feel. I guess happy because I'm glad I didn't let him down. I take him to the gym and I see Jason playing basketball, so I run through some shooting drills with him. He's too nice. He needs a mean streak. If I could give him mine, he might really have a shot at college ball. The kid is 6-7 with the silkiest jumper and NBA 3-point range. Just no heart or killer instinct. Sweet through and through.

I ride the bike with Michael while he cools down and then we head home. My mom talks to me again about my job search up in the bay area. I think I really loved San Francisco, but I'm still not sure I could see myself living up here. The parking situation, how everything is done mostly by walking, I like walking, but when I'm in a hurry, I don't like it. I don't know yet. I really don't know yet. I think for me to make a decision, I have to see it as a solid future, like a psychic looking ahead. And I still haven't been able to materialize a solid image in my mind of where I see myself next year. Maybe I have to wait for other things to fall in order.

Overall, an empowering trip. Empowering to be in the bay area, empowering to have such great customer feedback, empowering to see the results of my hard work and sacrifice. Also, to meet a strong connection gives me inspiration, even if it's not romantic. Like they say, maybe it's karmic. But it's electricity, and that's what I feed off of.

I feel like over the last 8-9 months, I've been growing stronger, but in San Francisco this weekend, I finally got a heart, like the lion in Wizard of Oz. I finally realized how strong I am, and how much courage I actually am capable of. I need to translate that courage into leadership. I think I am finally ready.

friday.

left work early at 3 to play basketball at the gym. played with a one-armed man who was fantastic. i was on his team and we celebrated every basket he made like it was the tying basket in a champsionship game. he had heart and played gritty. he made me happy.

met up with the michigan crew at a bar called firecracker in chinatown. i got there a little early so i had some time to hang out. there was a jazz band in the corner and a tiny old bar that reminded me of those sad, empty affairs we used to play in while our parents held banquets in the restaurants next door. i sat at the bar and saw the bartender was a crickety old chinese lady like the dragon lady in all those war movies from the 50's. she looked like the type of lady you order a mai tai from, so that's what i ordered.

the portland/knicks game was on silently in the corner, competing with the jazz. i heard the girl next to me scream and pump her arms in the air when portland scored, catching the attention of the entire room. then she leaned over to her group and explains, i'm from portland. they all act politely impressed, one girl saying, wow, i didn't know that. followed by an awkward silence. the guy asks her, do you think portland's current run is a fluke or do you think they can keep it up? she looks at him blankly, then says, uh...i'm just from portland. and everyone nodded their heads and politely agreed. i figured these people knew each other from work.

i liked watching the game with live jazz in the background. i could care less about the knicks but their winning would have helped my warriors. so i was intent on the game, going out of my way to ignore any eye contact with anyone at the bar, while simultaneously im-ing with my mom who had gone to the warriors game that night and wanted to tell me about it.

my group showed up and i was informed there was a second floor. so we left the cozy confines of the jazz club, and traveled up the stairs somewhat oxymoronically into someone's basement.

the upstairs of this bar looked exactly like someone's basement in new jersey, circa 1982. there's a tiny dance floor with a disco ball, surrounded by couches and a small bar. serving drinks that night, was a guy in a facemask decked out like a ninja suicide bomber.

we sat in a booth in the very back of the room, watching the dancers trying to figure out the dj's rhythm. they guy was either sadistic, or using this venue to practice, because he would throw out these beats and just as the dancers figured it out, he'd switch to something completely different and off. if the people on the dance floor were sims, they would have had big question marks over their heads, but they were determined to figure this guy out.

i hung out for a while but got tired. i wanted to get up early the next day to shoot baskets by myself. on the drive home, i took the streets. had radiohead with street spirit vibrating the car. a guy at a stoplight in koreatown asked me if i knew where hill st was. he looked about 23. i told him man, it's waaaaay back there! and he laughed and said, cool, thanks. we both rolled up our windows. i turned my music back up. he needed to make a u-turn to get to hill st but instead, drove alongside me for a few miles. finally, he smiled and waved at me as he made a turn and headed back in the direction we came.

drove through downtown, koreatown, west hollywood, beverly hills, century city. saw a police road block, a construction crew and a man getting pulled over. entertained the notion of getting something to eat, but didn't see anything crowded enough for me to want to stop. thought about not stopping at my house and taking a little drive up north of the 405 to explore those neighborhoods there. decided it was late. went to bed. dreamed of the ocean, people the size of ants, and beethoven.

sat.

got up so late. damn those dreams of beethoven. but i really felt like i was getting to know the man.

took some of this n.o. explode that brian had gotten at gnc and it made me crazy high, like there was juice running through my muscles and it was all systems go in my control room. I could see the basket so clearly, and i felt like my legs were springs. i still have terrible focus when i'm close to the basket though, because i'm actively aware of people under me and wanting to know where their feet are. i have to protect my knees. but overall, i felt like an athlete flying on a banned substance.

the group i like to play with was already there. then candice, the lesbian, and her friend showed up. candice used to play saturday mornings years ago, and she was a hurtling cannonball of fierce. she's in her 50's but she takes basketball seriously, and she's not afraid to take you down. she used to play with her girlfriend and this really tall woman who had played at nortwestern, and it was always fun, but you were always worried that she would hurt you or hurt herself. but i like playing with her. she likes talking to me a lot. quite a lot. she likes talking to me with her face really close to me, so close that i smell the mint on her breath as if it were coming from me. it makes me uncomfortable, and sometimes, i pretend i'm protecting her from a rebound coming towards us by running for it, when really i'm trying to create space.

i had a lot to do to prepare for super bowl and then my business trip next week, so i left and ran errands. but all i really did was stroll around the mall, irritated that i had to be at a mall, then get a massage. i had wanted to go out to san gabriel for dinner but ended up getting something at the hong kong cafe down the street and headed home to figure out my life.

seattle and i need to talk.

i need more romance in my life. i feel like the analytical, detached side of life has been taking over.

Hump Day

As I continue my job search, I've decided that one of the requirements I have is that my next company be large enough to field a company softball team. And give out free sodas, though this isn't a deal breaker. The bad side of working at a big company would be people who continually make jokes about "hump day" and who exuberantly adore casual Fridays. I also have a phobia of awkward lunchroom small talk. Especially if it's about people's cats. Even more especially if these cats wear hand-knitted sweaters.

I want some place where I can continually meet new people and get to know professional, intelligent people from different backgrounds who are active and into sports outside of work. Mostly I just want to meet new people. I've seen the same 8 people for the last 4 years 40 hours a week. Nice people, but I'm bored out of my mind.

Yet in the back of my mind, I also want to open my dessert shop, write in my free time and travel. It makes me sad to think of going from one "job" to another "job." What keeps me back is risk. Sometimes I wonder if my need for financial security is pathological.

My parents are convinced that if I would move to a larger company, I'll find my future husband, since everyone in my family who's worked at their company has gotten married to a coworker. I'm not opposed to a hot but dorky engineer or accountant with an appreciation for quirky senses of humor. Hell, I'm all about mathematicians right now since I've been marathoning Numb3rs. But I don't want to get my hopes up too high because I feel so far out of the game, I feel more comfortable roving the seedy underbelly and dark alleys of the city.

That may or may not be true.

But I am bored as hell with life right now. And very concerned about how I've cut myself off from writing. I'm hoping that having rescued my blog, this will slowly get me back on track. I'm in recovery from the whole stalker thing and how irritated it made me feel, so the more truthful details about what I've been up to I'm still keeping in notebooks until I figure out how what I want to do about access.

This blog still isn't complete. I have a month and a half left to import from the old blog and then I'll change the background color back to its normal color.

So what's new.

Webber back with the Warriors. Hoping for the best, preparing for the worst.

Family is getting along exceptionally. I fear Michael has outgrown me and my antics. I feel spurned sometimes. I'm happy that he's moving on though and so much more independent.

Am still open to moving back to the bay, but reluctant to move out of LA. It's like I want to walk out the door, but I won't let go of my stuff. And by stuff, I mean, all the restaurants that I love or those I have yet to try, and especially the places that are open late. Also, the thought of having to pack up my things and move them to a new place and hope they didn't get lost or damaged in transit gives me anxiety.

I think deep down I also know that it's not LA that makes me lonely, but I don't want to face the fact that I'll manage to feel lonely everywhere. The problem was never LA, even though it's so easy to blame this city and then be done with it. It's that I love and appreciate my friends and the people around me here, but I also really need and love spending a certain amount of time with myself. So what I've sacrificed for this space and detachment is that sometimes I feel lonely, but I feel like my freedom is worth it. Maybe a different environment or a new path in my life would change things. Change my needs and my priorities. I don't know. I'm open to it though, as long as it feels right and not forced.

I found out that I'm hosting a Super Bowl party this Sunday. I thought it was funny that I found out via a group email and I wasn't even one of the first to know. I want to try out making home made pizza rolls, either with pizza dough or eggroll wrappers. It depends if I have time to try it out first.

I've got a couple of free Southwest tickets so that means I have 2 sponteneous trips coming up. I'm actually glad I checked my email and found out that I'm hosting a party this weekend, because I was thinking about taking off to some place random that I've never been. Maybe St. Louis. Maybe Albuquerque. Maybe even the Super Bowl. Get down with the people. Find some inspiration.

I wanted to try an experiment. To go to the gym every day for a week with a t-shirt that says, "What's that smell?" Then go one day with another shirt that says, "No seriously, what's that smell?" To see if anyone notices. People around me just seem so stressed or preoccupied in general. I want to see someone smiling.

Maybe it's the weather and the new year and the economy. Or maybe I'm just out of sync right now.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22857051

Hmmm.

I think the correct term would be: yippie ki yay.

I'm back.

The weirdest thing happened.

The writers went on strike. And I stopped writing.

It's like a sychronicity took hold.

I thought it was because I had a stalker, but truthfully, it's nice to have a more secret hiding place.

So here I am. In my new home.

It's been raining this whole week and I've been equal parts miserable, equal parts enthralled. There's something spiritual about the rain. My mom comments many times that I've inherited her love of rain. Maybe there are things passed down through generations, something more abstract than genetics. Maybe souls have families, too.

So what have I been up to?

Man, I don't even know where to start.

I fell of the face of the earth. Went into super privacy mode, trying to be a ghost. When people forget that you participate in this drama we call life, they start letting you move through their world like shadows. So I've been watching people and understanding those little things about life that you take for granted.

The funny thing is that people have these immediate reactions to me. They're convinced that who they're seeing is a living, breathing person, when I'm giving them a mask. They believe that this person I'm projecting exists. And their conviction is so strong, that I'm able to watch them interact with my projection almost as a silent observer.

The thing that I'm most awed by is how complexly simple humans are. There's almost a beauty about their naivete, about their straightforward earnestness. You see their challenges, you see their fears, but at the end of the day, there's this need to move forward and find a positive light to it all. Then there are people who want to take these things away from people, to take away that simplicity, to destroy that innocence. The more I watch of human interaction, the more I feel protective of people, and the more I appreciate individuality and uniqueness.

I've been thinking a lot about my past, my accumulated experiences, and trying to find the meaning to it all. If I were to write the movie of my life, what genre would it be and what kind of themes would it have. What is the dominant storyline? Is it one girl's struggle in a hostile environment, all the while trying to protect her vulnerable brother. Or is it the wanderer who explores life like an anthropologist, always reluctant to get involved? Is it about an alien trapped in a host body, struggling to find its way home. Or is it a quirky romantic piece about the introspective loner who finds love in the most unexpected of places? Is it a dark comedy, as I once thought it was, or is it an independent drama full of hope and angst. Will there be car explosions? Or stuntmen needed to fall through glass windows. Will there be a leading man, or a tragic love triangle? Maybe it will be passionately explosive, or maybe it will be repressive, cold and brimming with repressed lust, where just the passing touch of skin on skin makes your entire body shudder. Maybe it will be more bitter than sweet, or maybe in an improbable twist, it turns out more sweet than bitter. Maybe everything wraps up nicely in a neat little box, or maybe there's room left for a sequel. But no matter what, just adhere to three act structure, and only the necessary, significant characters should have lines of dialogue. Watch the plants to be paid off later, and make sure your characters have distinct voices so you can explore them all. Do lots of scenes where you're looking pensively into a mirror, and maybe throw in a gun or two. But no matter what, make the movie truthful. Because at the end of the day, an audience can always sniff out bullshit.

Plaid

Go see them live. They've got this show that pairs electronic soundscapes with visual art that's pretty mindblowing. Go see them if only so you can tell me if their shows are really just covert mass brainwashing sessions.

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=81698925

And if you're in LA, make sure you check out a show at the Disney Concert Hall. Just saw Plaid there and it was one of the best nights of my life that I'll never be able to adequately describe to anyone. That place is a temple of worship.

changes

So when I get stressed out, my Gemini brain will hide it from me, so I can cruise along day by day without realizing anything is bothering me. It never occurs to me that my sudden shoulder stiffness and onset of insomnia may have anything to do with stress. I never factor in that the worst of it tends to occur on Sunday nights, as I prepare to tackle another week at work. I just think, that's weird...are these things related? And then become fixated on the nearest thing that's shiny.

But now I'm realizing I've been pretty stressed out.

So this is how it started.

Last year I was flying so high. I ejected from a relationship that drove me crazy, not because my partner wasn't a nice, kind individual, but because it wasn't It. I realized how easy it could have been to commit to something that's "not that bad" for the rest of my life, but instead, I left so I could leave myself open to something awesome. I started living like someone with a new lease on life...traveling, standing up to my erratic boss, trying new things (surfing, cliff jumping, Toastmasters). It was electric. Turning 29, I decided, this is the year I make sure that I build my life right for the rest of my life, so I started shedding things and people in my life that weren't good for me, and welcoming in things that felt more positive and empowering. By the time 30 rolled around, I figured I'd be set. I'd have taught myself superpowers by then. I'd have hired a celebrity fashion designer to design me a cape, because that's the kind of person I would be at 30. Someone who wears a cape every day.

But then I guess after new year's, it dawned on me that I'm turning 30 this year and what the hell was I doing turning goddam 30. I started getting some minor anxieties, like why I'm still at the spec level with my writing because I've got this perfectionist streak in me of wanting to accrue writing samples like pirate booty before I go out with it, yet I never feel like I have enough to go out. I thought about how I've spent 4 and half years at a job I didn't think I'd last more than two months at back in 2003, because the place is a neverending season of The Office but with more porn and more dirty, dirty sexual innuendos from coworkers than the average professional could possibly tolerate if I weren't so detached by personality and in love with the witty comeback. Plus, I like that it pays me a lot of money, which in turn, makes me feel like a money slut. I thought about my love of stuff, and if I'll ever read those user manuals so I can learn how to use my stuff, or if I'll finally date someone smart enough to program my gadgets for me. And then I thought about my dear attachment to being single.

I think I have a preference for being single because my number one priority is protecting my personal freedom and not getting into any restricting, unfulfilling situations I can't get out of. I enjoy spending time alone (is any Gemini really ever alone?) and I would rather be my own company than be with bad or even worse, boring company. But I'm open to a good relationship and am willing to settle down if something feels right. And I'm always open to friends. Not small talk friends. But interesting conversation and we-get-each-other friends. But then I look around at this city I've spent 9 years in, and I'm so aware of how hard it is to meet people I can relate to, how hard it is to find people you can just be yourself with, even at a platonic level. A part of me longs for the bay area, where strangers are much more approachable and there's always interesting conversations and ideas buzzing around. I started going up north for the weekends, and as soon as my family caught wind that I'm open to the idea of moving back, it's been like college scouts recruiting a high school prospect--I've got family and friends calling and telling me about the wonderful benefits of living in the bay area, and people giving me ideas of where to search for a job. I feel like I've been a big cocktease now if I don't move back. But I'm not sure that's the solution.

I'm open to moving up there, but I'm also reluctant to give up on LA. If I move now, I'll feel like I wasted 9 years searching for something/someone that I never found. I'll feel like I gave up just as I was on the verge of finding it. But am I just being stubborn, refusing to cut my losses?

This desire to move also comes on the heels of issues at work that have me despondent. I just hit a point of frustration where I don't care anymore. It's like drowning. You struggle and you struggle, but at some point, if you just give in, everything goes silent and you find a sort of ironic peace. I've decided it's time to leave, but I don't know where I want to go yet, because I feel like the next step is a very important one.

Ideally, I want to take time off and travel. I want to do what I like to do, which is meet new people in new places and write about it. Learn about life. About different perspectives. Explore different aspects of myself. Be whoever I want to be at any given moment. Reopen my blog without fear of crazy stalkers. Develop creative business partnerships. Get involved in something I believe in that engages both my business/logical side and my creative side.

So this struggle has been going on...do I stay put, do I move to the bay area, do I find another job in LA, or do I give myself up to my creative, adventurous impulses and go gather the inspiration for my writing by getting myself out and about within life and make money worries secondary. Our am I at an age where it's too late, because I'm too old for this shit?

I had insomnia all week for the first time in about 5 years. I started having nightmares which is so, so rare. In one of them, I got a call that my grandmother who lives in San Francisco had died (I don't have a grandmother who lives in San Francisco). In my dream, I'm her only living relative, so I go up north to make arrangements. I spend a night in her small apartment in the city, in this really old building. In the middle of the night, the phone rings and it's a little boy. He talks to me like he knows me, and I feel like I should know who he is. Then he tells me he's scared, there's a ghost with him, another little boy. Then he puts the ghost on and I could hear electrical buzzing as he spoke, the equivalent of chilling the noise frequencies the way ghosts will chill the air. The little boy told me he needed help, and that he was faxing me a picture of himself. I stayed on the line and checked my fax machine, and a picture of a little boy with brown hair came through. Then as another page came through, he told me he was sending me a picture of the ghost. I glanced down at the paper coming through but I looked away quickly because it scared me. All I saw was something blurry, a dark mass, ominous. I started getting really scared in my dream, and had to will myself out of it by telling myself it's not that scary and that I was in my home in Los Angeles. But it was. Maybe I'll write something about it. I get a lot of my story ideas from dreams. But I've been trying not to think about it. All I know was it made me not want to move into an old building in San Francisco.

I think it's time for me to get moving again. Wherever I'm going, whatever happens, I think there are some things in my life that need to change, starting with work, involving less Minesweeper, and ending with "pimping harder."

displaced

My thoughts have been displaced while I move my blog from one location to another. My creative side feels like it's living out of a self-storage unit. Thus my blogging here now while I wait.

How've I been? Bored. Really bored. I get a lot of thought done though. I've come to an understanding about human evolution and our next step if our physical environments aren't sustainable. I've examined how we are moving towards human psychological sub-species and how it affects the social trajectory. I practice a math exercise with license plate numbers in traffic so I can train my mind to recognize gestalt patterns before calculating the sum of the parts. I spend a ridiculous amount of time at the gym seemingly watching dvds on the cardio machines, but where I'm simultaneously watching storylines develop between strangers.

Maybe I'm in a period of download. I'm definitely seeing and learning new things about what it means to be human for other people, having new understandings every day. I'm trying to let myself relax to reveal more of myself to others, yet when I do, it reveals more confusing and inconsistent facets. But the difference is, I'm having more fun exploring them and giving myself permission to commit to it.

So it's raining and I love the rain. I think the feeling of inspiration is so electrical that when it rains, it conducts more of that electricity so I feel stronger. I know I start getting really despondent if I go too long without there being rain. I'm happy that I have absolutely nothing to do this weekend, that I'm not under any projects or forcing myself to stress about unfinished projects. All I've done today is set the alarm for early am so I could fall asleep again to the sound of the rain, go to the gym, watch DVDs on the couch, read a random book at Barnes & Noble for an hour, then buy a small popcorn at a movie theater and head home to explore the net. It's just the little things, being able to slow down, being able to have yourself to yourself for a period of time and savor the freedom of that...that destines a day as one of your favorite memories

Electro-cum
Current mood: electric

Happy new year.

I celebrated in San Francisco at a club that featured various dance floors, including one in the basement decked out in chilly blue light and white furniture with a dj spinning techno. It looked like either the set of a commercial for some premium russian vodka or an uber-postmodern vampire lair where getting bit gets slutty. This was playing:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ClI8PX1gMyE

I've decided. The name of my hypothetical future-band-should-i-ever-learn-to-play-an-instrument-well has been changed from Lesbian Toolbox to Electro Cum. Which might be good because outside of thigh-high leather spiked boots and whips, I don't see any instruments actually being mandatory.

December

Well, it's been two years and I said I would be back. I would have done this tomorrow to really celebrate the anniversary, but I'll be on a plane (literally) and I didn't want to miss you.

It's been interesting. I've learned a lot. How to love. How to lose. How to be a better man. How those armed forces commercials are disturbingly hypnotic. But I met a lot of people who opened up to me, and they taught me a lot by showing me how they saw themselves through their own eyes.

Some things...

I read this quote: "Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end."

Open yourself up to believing in 2nd chances, to believing that life is not without its surprises. You can beg a mountain a million times to move, but sometimes, if you let yourself be patient, you wake up one day to find that the mountain is no longer in the same place. Sometimes, the universe just wants you to prove how much you wanted it. Sometimes you just have to believe it's possible.

"We accept the love we think we deserve."

If you carry around a lot of anger towards yourself and you can't look yourself in the mirror and feel real compassion and admiration for the person you see, then you're never going to let in someone who believes in you as a better person than you're able to see yourself. If you can let go of things enough to believe that you deserve the kind of love that feels good and can make you happy, then you'll be presented with a person who wants to give you just that kind of human connection. You'll still have to open that door though, no matter how terrifying.

"Energy is magnetic."

Personal energy. It's very real. We all have it. Some are able to focus their own better than others. We can draw things into our lives, whether they are positive projections or anxious projections. You have to be very careful not to punish yourself by drawing negative things into your life; a person can really torture himself for a lifetime when he never even needed to in the first place. On the flipside, if you're trying to draw something very specific into your life, don't settle. I was on a fishing trip earlier this year when someone said to me, "This is why it's called fishing not catching." You won't know it's there until it's there, because otherwise, it's not there. Be patient, have faith, and always believe in magic.

This year, I learned about the power of projection and the power of attraction, about how messages are communicated, about how to appreciate people for what they are and where they are on their journeys. I learned that we're all projections...it's hard for people to really see each other. But then when you find that real connection with someone, honor it. Be grateful for what a rare beautiful thing that is and don't take it for granted.

Lastly, keep your eyes open. Life moves fast. But if you show it that you're serious and you do believe in magic, it'll open up its curtains and show you all the things that go on behind the stage.

Welcome.

Most of you don't know me. I am someone who has escaped here from the publicity of another blog.

I am somehow by honor or moral fiber bound to tell the truth. But since I am a very secretive person, the more people who start listening to me, watching me, the more I find ways to mask it.

So I found that with people reading it, thinking they knew me, watching me, I found it very hard to be me anymore. I started to become a reaction to me, a response. And then I started disappearing.

We are lucky that we have a luxury in this day and age, to continue protecting our anonymity while continuing to communicate out into space.

I am that person, who keeps sending messages out into the universe, and hopes one day to get an answer back.

You don't think there is other life out there? Someone who can hear you, truly understand you and for the first time, verify that you actually exist? Isn't that all we as a species want? Just a nice pat on the head to acknowledge that we're real so that we can settle into our relief that all of this hasn't just been lifetimes invested into a complete childish game of pretend?

You don't need to understand me. If you don't, just step aside because I'm looking for some one, something, to give me an answer.

Because I've been pretending for a long time, pretending to be human. Pretending to have feelings and emotions the way others do. Sometimes it's so cold and robotic in here. Sometimes I get a faint hint of warmth, the comfort of having a lizard's heart. And sometimes, I want to wrap people up and heal all of their pain and inner devastation with the sheer intensity of my love for them that the inability to brings me to my knees.

It's been a life time of people making sure I knew that I didn't belong. And a life time of truly good-hearted people, those with blind faith, who believed in me, and wanted to love me.

But now, I need to know. What lays inside me? I need my mirror image, so I can finally know. Who I am.

Throughout all this bullshit in this world, all the people who will pretend they're special to get close to you, I need everyone to be kind and/or mind their own business and step aside. I need everyone around me to be very very quiet, because I need to focus now.

I am searching for someone specific. I commit to not getting distracted. I will recognize this person when I find him. And I will trust the knowledge I will gain.

And if you will all trust me and lay down your arms, I'll bring that knowledge back and share it with you.

I got tired of small talk. I got tired of not being real. I wanted to feel something, something that would fill this emptiness inside of me. I realized that I'm completely devoid of emotion. The only emotion I have is a sadness, when I acknowledge my emptiness inside. Otherwise, there's nothing. A big brain, a lot of energy, and then...no heart.

you have to remember how to perceive yourself as a child in order to become very aware of yourself.

and for some reason, dragons are very very important.

white people fear dragons but chinese people revere them as beautiful creatures who give them great power.

going back to asia was like being reminded of where I come from, and the strange, mystic and poetic ways eastern culture experiences the soul.

i decided, i want to embody the dragon.

more and more, it's starting to feel like i'm not fitting in here. venus and mars aren't wars of gender, they're wars of feelings. the safety of being submissive or the courage to expand and become great. of hiding or revealing who you are. today in acting class, i asked them why it was easier as a reader to get into something that's a man writing 1st person through a female character, versus a woman writing 1st person through a male character. they're the most willing to explore the deeper elements of these questions so they just agreed that it's easier to read the former rather than the latter.

dragons are mars. they're the cold, cold representation of mars, a hot blue flame.

there's a completely different feel, when you're living life as art. it's like suddenly, the world has a soul to it.

remember the first time you realized you could ice skate? That you could keep yourself from getting hurt on the ice?

I didn’t have a bad childhood or anything. It was okay, though I don’t remember much. I remember I ate plant food once because it was out by the sink. It was in this white plastic tub like the kind margarine comes in, and it had these little white balls like cake sprinkles that I thought might mean it was something sweet. My mom caught me putting a handful in my mouth and started yelling, but being scared just made me swallow. She grabbed my hand and slapped at it over the sink to make me drop the rest of it that was clenched in my fist. My dad was laughing as he walked in behind her. “Now you’re gonna have a little plant growing inside your stomach. What are you gonna name it?” he said as he snapped the lid back on. I think I started bawling. I’ve always been a bit of a coward. And the thought of having a plant growing inside of me was terrifying.

My dad had a big German shepherd for a little while. We weren’t very close. He was an outside dog and sometimes we played, but my dad warned me never to pet him if his tail wasn’t wagging. We ended up having to give him away after he bit the kid of one of my dad's friend's on the shoulder, but I don’t think anyone was sad. My mom was too busy to get to know him and I think my dad got tired of him. That dog never really seemed that excited about living with us anyway, more like he put up with us. Maybe he felt like he landed with the wrong family, a group of complete incompatibles with his personality type, the way adopted kids sometimes do.

The only interesting thing that I can remember was this one neighborhood kid, Jamie. He was maybe a couple of years older than me, about 8, and his parents were never home. He had Duck Hunt on Nintendo so I always wanted to go to his house to play. The game was in their guest room, so we would sit on the edge of the bed, a proximity that allowed me to hold the gun up and be only inches away from the screen for extra accuracy. The thing I loved about it was that he would let me shoot at those animated ducks for hours and he was content to just sit next to me and watch, never wanting to take turns. That’s something I always hated. The waiting part of taking turns.

I was at his house one day playing Duck Hunt when I looked over, and Jamie was staring at the screen, his face kind of zoned out. I looked down to see that he had zipped his pants open, and the tiny head of his penis was poking out, and he was twisting it idly with his fingers as he stared at the screen. I think he noticed that a lot of ducks were going by without me firing any shots, so he looked over and saw that I was staring at his hand.

“What are you doing?” I asked, confused with a tinge of panic.

“Watching you play,” he said, his voice flat.

“Don’t do that,” I said, jumping off the bed.

He got this evil little grin, the one that boys get when they’re running around with a spider or a snake outstretched in their hands, sending us girls into screaming hysterics.

He jumped off the bed and waved his little bitty thing at me, up and down, up and down, flop, flop, flop, laughing gleefully at me.

I stared at him, frozen, overwhelmed by how to proceed. Then…I was gone. I ran out the door, down his stairs and out his front door, ran….my legs pounding me all the way home.

He lived across the street then four houses down, and I ran the whole way with him in pursuit. I don’t think he let go of his penis the entire time. Our automatic garage door was open so I ran in, then hit the button to close it, but the thing was so damn slow that he slipped in underneath. He was cackling with excitement, something that scared me more as something primal inside was telling me to be terrified of what might happen if I let him catch me. He chased me into my own house, up our stairs, all the way to my room but I was able to slam the door and lock it just in time. He pounded on it for a while, laughing with a joy that I’ve since identified as simply a mental state of -- “not okay.” He begged me, cajoled me, told me he was only kidding. That he’d put it away so it was safe for me to come out. But I wouldn’t answer him, my back pressed against the door with my feet grinding into the carpet in case he managed to figure out how to unlock the door (any ballpoint pen inserted in the hole under the handle would have done the trick). His pounding got more persistent, more aggressive. “Open the door!” he yelled. He seemed furious now. Personally offended. He got down and tried to wiggle his fingers under the door as I curled away in terror, but thankfully, the thick carpet of my room only let him get the tips in which quickly frustrated him more. After what seemed like a lifetime of assaulting my fragile panic room, he gave the door a last cowering kick and yelled, “You’re no fun!” followed by footsteps stomping down our hall.

I stayed on the floor in front of my door until the sun went down, until my room slowly turned into shadows, until I could hear night sounds fill the dark expanse outside my window. Finally, I heard my mom pull up in the driveway and into our garage.

I didn’t come out until she tried my door and found it locked. She paused, then knocked tentatively.

“Honey? Are you in there?”

I opened the door, looking around furtively behind her. I wasn’t convinced Jamie wasn’t hiding somewhere in the house, still waiting to catch me alone.

“Yeah,” I said, probably looking at her like I would disintegrate if she let me out of her sight.

She looked at me, then at my darkened room with a mother’s concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I said.

I reached for her hand, and together, we went downstairs to the kitchen, and as I sat in one of the high kitchen stools in front of the counter, I watched her transfer vegetables and packages from the refrigerator to the sink to prepare dinner. She cut the vegetables carefully and with great concentration, then put them in a rinsed bowl as she washed the slime off the chicken pieces. She told me to open a window as she dropped the chunks of meat into heated oil, which I did obediently. A thick cloud of white smoke rose above the pan instantly as the room filled with sizzling. I could smell the cool fall air through the wire mesh of the screen as the warm aroma of garlic and cooking meat wafted by me, mingling, and I realized I’d been holding all the air in my chest the entire time, only taking shallow breaths.

“You have a good day?” she asked, her spatula scraping the pan at random intervals.

“Yeah,” I said, my face pressed into the screen, taking slow breaths, in and out, filling myself with these familiar smells. Because everything that was bad was now safely tucked in the past. And everything in the right now was finally okay.

i'm in love.

just flew into singapore from hong kong. i'm here for 2 days and then bali after that. will do a trip recap when i get back.

jet lag's a bitch!

Three couples go out on dinner dates:

faith rooted in optimism + faith rooted in pessimism

faith rooted in optimism + faith rooted in optimism

faith rooted in pessimism + faith rooted in pessimism

Which couple creates the most energy?

saturn. the father. the stern taskmaster. you make us fear things the way fear felt when we were emerging beings, viewing the world through a pinpoint of consciousness from within a dark cave, when we still had no sense yet of what the hell was going on. you scare a person enough while he's in this stage, and he'll perpetually walk through life like he's lost in a game in which he doesn't understand the rules. it's the same reason you don't shake an egg before it hatches.

tyrant father.

you liked tormenting those weaker than you, didn't you?

but it never killed the smallness you felt inside the root of you.

because father issues are the mother of all issues.

it's going to stop.

let up on some of these people, okay? they are good people who are way too hard on themselves, thinking they are incomplete or flawed. you are making them feel sad and angry. small. some who are so much bigger are playing small in hopes that you don't turn your brutal eye on them, or are playing small in hopes it will please you into offering kindness. some have abandoned their personal power in their need to escape. you need to be a better leader like the sun.

when i told someone in confidence that i needed an army to stand up to you, people started following me. they can feel the same feeling, a readiness for emergence. they can feel there's some truth in this, and they have hope. what binds us is that we believe that we are better than this, timid caged people terrified of their father. they believe that if they can expand the positive energy inside them, it would be so powerful as to render you a ghost.

is it too idealistic of me to think that we can coexist? this is not a war. this is a peaceful return to balance. we are not weak, but we are not threats. we are going to stand up, very slowly, and you're going to let us. you will be awed by what you see, our size, our numbers, our gentle power. and then, you're going to step back, and you're going to let us walk away, to unlock the cages of others.

In my writing workshop, we did a short impromptu writing exercise where we had to write the beginning of a story that starts with "Once upon a time..."

Once upon a time, a man and his toaster had a dispute.

The man was groggy from a late night of spying on his neighbors across the alley who were of dubious nationality (someplace where the men were swarthy with perpetual forehead sweat and the women their coy properties). He was convinced they were running some kind of third-rate brothel out of their dumpy 1 BD + den. He had already been irritated with the coffeemaker which had released a thick little poot of grounds in its final gurgle of release, thus ruining the entire pot. Now the toaster refused to relinquish his toast.

I'll shake you, he said, waving a knife at the toaster. The indifferent toaster didn't even blink, knowing if the man so much as tried to pry that precious meal from his insides, he would give him a shock to remember.

I'll throw you in the alley like the tea kettle!

The toaster remembered the tea kettle, the shy, red KitchenAid possessing an unassuming allure. He had grown fond of her in the summer months when she sat quietly on the backburner, watching the rest of the kitchen go about its business while she, herself, remained a wallflower.

The man was always a coffee drinker but the one time he attempted to make tea for an obese, inane lady friend with a double chin and a peculiar smell, the teapot's shrill announcement of the water boiling inside her so discombobulated the man that he burned his pinkie on her red backside and promptly defenestrated her out the window.

The entire kitchen was horrified.

They had staged a passive-aggressive rebellion ever since.

i used to think it was stupid how people couldn't recognize that clark kent was superman, how a pair of glasses could render superman invisible. today i wonder if maybe this is based on a phenomenon that's real.

today i went to a toastmasters division competition. the understanding i had was that i would probably never see these people again. the message had been delivered to those it was intended for. the messenger is to stay out of the way of the work of the message. but i wanted to know. and i wanted to be supportive of this group that had accepted me for a few weeks.

the room was bright and fluorescent-lit, unforgiving. sometimes the best way to hide is out in the open. i wore my hair up and glasses. i've been told when i do this, i look like a different person. wore stylish, texturized solids, rich and earthy for the sake of blending into the background, but potentially stunning if you notice. sat directly behind everyone from my chapter, my knees inches from our treasurer's back who was sitting in front of me. gray wool socks with black loafers, his feet nervously jiggle when he sits. yet he looks like a dancer gliding with animal grace, every movement lyrical when he walks. why?

i focused on a reality in which i believed i didn't know anyone here, that i was consciously, a complete stranger to this place and these people. cloaked myself in blankness. hiding. a man i've truly never met sitting next to me noticed me; he kept pretending to crane to look at the guy on the other side of me, taking a long lingering look at my face as he turned his head back. i sat motionless, refusing to make eye contact. he seemed to be subtly smelling me which was making me nervous. i wondered if my perfume was too strong. if my scent was too obvious, giving me away. had i made a mistake? but the people in my group didn't see me, even though they were all in the two rows in front of me. they walked by me and even turned, facing me. i made brief eye contact with one of them when he turned to talk to the man in front of me. no spark in his eyes. no recognition.

i slipped out just before they announced the intermission, went to the bathroom. thought about it, that if my presence had actually been noticed without me realizing, then i probably come off very strange. figured i should probably mingle.

when i walked up to the group at the intermission, it became clear no one knew i had been there the whole time. they were really surprised and happy. some looked confused, like they weren't sure if it was me, like they weren't sure what to make of me. that was the point though, wasn't it? my sharp entrance into their lives? my vanishing? wasn't that what i wanted, what i'm always obsessing about, to make sure they didn't become attached to the messenger and lose the message? no, it's not what i want, because underneath it all, i'm lonely and i want people to know and understand all levels of me. but i don't want to let people get attached, pin their hopes and dreams or feelings on me because i don't know where life will take me and my commitment first and foremost is to this journey.

the person who hadn't recognized me earlier despite making eye contact made a happy sound when he recognized me. he looked at me in amazement, like i was someone he never thought he would see again, when in walks a ghost. he grabbed my hand with both of his, shaking vigorously and refusing to let go. in chinese, this means gratitude. in white people, i'm not sure what this means. it's really really good to see you. really good to see you, he kept saying. his whole body crackled with anxious energy, his eyes never broke contact. like he was assuring himself this moment was real. if i could trust that this man weren't a drowning man looking for an audience, i can feel the message for him on the edge of my mental horizon that could guide him towards the peace he secretly wants if he could let go of the drama he openly craves. but his desperation makes me very cautious. i can not trust that he won't eventually lash out at me.

they didn't know i had been there the whole time. they thought i had just shown up. they were surprised i'd been there for a while. i didn't even know you were right behind me, one man said. i didn't recognize you, said another.

but one of them did. i knew that he knew more about me than the others, but i didn't acknowledge this or show awareness out of politeness, keeping my expressions open but neutral. two poker projections facing off, both with secrets, both hard to read. but i did have questions, questions that i would never bring up openly unless the subject were put on the table. other people were talking to me so it was hard to get space to talk to him, to feel him out. i was curious to understand what he thinks he knows, what he was hoping to find. maybe he's not even aware of what exactly drives his curiosity, so these questions may not even matter. does he want a message, or is he like me, two travelers in an undeveloped foreign land, realizing we look the same under our masks, but only acknowledging our hidden selves in psychic nods and winks? or is this just lower vibration human complication to be avoided at all costs?

glasses. hair up. one mind's focused projection bending the perceived reality of others. like with mirrors. like in magic.

an illusion.

for a short period of time, i walked among the living without their awareness.

overall a fun evening, interesting experiment, and an overwhelming tinge of loneliness and loss on the drive home.

i am empty when i am alone.

lost without a reflection.

a shadow without identity.

a messenger serving a voice i've never met.

echoing.

i am a ghost.