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| Anais Nin |
| 08.31.05 (11:12 am) [edit] |
There is not one big cosmic meaning for all,
there is only the meaning we each give to our life,
an individual meaning, an individual plot,
like an individual novel, a book for each person.
--Anais Nin
I’ve been doing a lot of Anais Nin reading lately and in doing so I am finding a lot of inspiration for writing and also for life. There is a certain voice that she captures when she writes that reminds me of my own. It is intense and unafraid on paper but she admits to failing the same passion in life. In reading her it has made me think of my own life.
I often times drown in my emotions. I feel things. I like the rawness of things. I love the edges of life. I love the imperfections and the out of control moments. I love the ease of a good day. I love the after math of a bad one. There are moments of abandonment. While other seems to stand still.
I am watching Jose fall in love. It’s insane to see his restlessness. He is moody and delicate in a way I’m not sure I’ve seen before. He kisses my head before going to bed now maybe wanting to share some of the love he is feeling with me. He doesn’t talk much about it when I do ask he is simple with his answers. New love. Like the first day of sun after a week full of dark clouds and rain.
I have released myself from the need for Cruz to accept me. In stepping away from each other I realized that I needed his approval at a time when there was a lot of things going on in my life. It felt like he abandoned me right along with everyone else because he didn’t know how to be my friend anymore. In thinking on it now it had nothing to do with him. It was more about me needing someone who was willing to be there for me. He was not and I have accepted that.
When someone changes for better or worse it causes their surroundings to change as well. I am standing on my own. I spend a lot of time reading. I am writing in a journal (writing exercises). I sing and dance and laugh at my own accord. I love my family with the same intensity that have always had for them. I don’t care what people think about how dysfunctional we are. I am growing again. I am aware of when I shed my old skin and move forward despite the tragedies.
I will always be me. I will always be missing pieces. I will in my own way always be tragic but I move forward. I will always ride out what ever I am feeling because it is healing and it makes me aware of myself.
In further less “reflecting” news. I have dyed my hair again and I like. I have gone to the dentist finally (I have to go back for a deep cleaning and some replacement of some fillings) other than that all is well. I am going to Acapulco in November. I have gone 7 days without a drink because I feel I want too, not because I need too. My last DUI class was last night I have one more check in and then I await the news of whether or not I can apply for my license any time soon. I want so many things right now but I am applying patience.
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| And she danced |
| 08.28.05 (2:44 pm) [edit] |
I am sitting here. I feel sick to my stomach because I want to know her. I want to meet her and probe her mind. I want to watch other people want her and need her and hunger for her. How odd it is to feel about someone that is out of my circle. How odd it is to feel obssesive (not obsessed) to want to learn her.
I am sitting here and my throat is dry from the thought of how crazy I am going to appear. How crazy I feel. I am no where near her. I am a part of the crowd mesmerized by the physical. I know where she is. At what parties she'll be at then I don't go because I am scared that I'll just be another face and then the idea dies. Then I become myself. The quiet one in the corner of the bar. The one lost in a the daze of her drink. The one that drinks and drinks until she is full and can not remember why it was that she came.
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| Fifty-Three Years old |
| 08.22.05 (10:59 am) [edit] |
I watched my dad yesterday as he sat around with my uncle’s and cousins telling jokes and drinking his wine. His hair is gray and thinner than usual because of his surgery a few years back. The chemo worked but his hair didn’t grow back the way it was supposed too. He can’t do anything without his glasses now. I remember when he first started to wear them it was just to help him read but now they are a permanent fixture on his face. He put on his new pants, shirt and shoes that my sister and I got him for Father’s Day. He looked handsome in that Antonio Banderas way. When I tease him about it he tells me to go to hell and that he’s better looking than that and he laughs and pushes me away.
My father has grown sentimental in his old age. Long gone are the macho days of drinking Tequila and beer he had to give it up if was going to survive. Long gone are the days of him strumming his guitar into the early morning he had to give it up because he has arthritis in his hands. He sits in his recliner and watches soccer and the animal channel when he’s home. He prefers to sit in his yard and feed his birds now instead of going camping or sitting out by the beach and eating KFC as the sun goes down.
There are good memories slurred along with the bad but over all he’s survived his life. I say survive because it’s been a long battle for him. For his birthday this year he bought a Ford Ram truck. It’s beautiful. My uncles slapped his back and congratulated him as he showed it off to them. His eyes were bright. No one mentioned my sister’s name until later in the evening. He stared into his glass and sat quietly for a minute. I caught his eye and winked. He got up to come talk to me since I was at the grill alone.
He put his arm around me, “My house is empty.”
His eyes were a little watery which always causes mine to do the same, “but your life is full of love daddy.”
I gave him a kiss on the cheek. He hadn’t shaved that morning and it reminded me of when he would chase us around the house so he could tickle us with his unshaven beard. I hated it then but when I felt it yesterday I didn’t mind it so much.
“It’s not the same without her here. Like when you went away. Everything kind of died slowly,” he said staring into the coals.
“I miss her too but she’s doing something for herself. We can’t be too selfish,” I said.
We stared into the fire for a long time before either one of us spoke again.
“***** you know I love you right?” he asked quietly.
“Does this mean I get the truck?” I asked back.
He laughed and walked away shaking his head. Today my father turned fifty three years old.
Happy Birthday Papi.
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| You Met Who? |
| 08.17.05 (8:26 am) [edit] |
So I think I got as close as I’m going to get to meeting a celebrity and that’s only if you consider a reality TV personality a “celebrity”. We were sitting at the Cat Club in SF on Friday night after a delicious dinner at the Cheese Cake Factory with my siblings. While the wait I could have done without the meal was on a gift card so we ate good. I had them drop me off a few blocks away so they wouldn’t see where I was going. I didn’t want them to see the line of trendy punky lesbians. My friends have been trying to get me to go to this party for a while now. I haven’t been able to go because of work so being that I had the weekend off I geared up for some good times.
E and I arrived at the bar around midnight. The place was barely starting to pick up. 80’s retro music blared in the front room and you could faintly here the bass thumping from the hip-hop room towards the back. We ordered our rounds and sat around catching up. I had my back against the wall and watched as the girls filed back and forth from one room to the next. I recognized some from my bar and said hello casually. It wasn’t my scene or maybe I just wasn’t in the mood. We sat on the couch and chatted up one of E’s new friends. Everyone was pretty drunk by the time we were getting a slight buzz on. I heard a familiar song coming from the backroom and jumped over the couch to get to the back room.
I was standing there trying to see if I could get to the dance floor without getting smooshed between these two bull dykes grinding on each other when I recognized the face dancing up on a speaker. Well to be honest she was lifting her shirt and I thought I was going to see some skin. Anyway it dawns on me that its Coral from several of the Real World/Road Rules Challenge MTV shows. Now I don’t freak out. I stand and watch her dance then go back to tell E that she’s up there dancing on the speaker then tell her to go take a picture of her with her phone. (At the time it seemed like a good idea) The phone didn’t work and Coral flipped her off. E was not happy.
Needless to say about fifteen minutes later she is standing on one side of the bathroom line and the guy she was dancing with was right on the other side of the couch. The light goes off in my head. I don’t know if it was that I wanted to meet her persay (I didn’t want to be a groupie unlike the other lezzies in line with her). It was more of a I wonder if I can actually meet her. I just wanted to see what would happen. I wink at E and turn around to address him.
“That would get on my nerves I think,” I said out loud. (He could ignore me or talk to me I figured).
“Yeah I think she’s used to it at this point,” he says.
“It has to be weird to just have people come up and talk to you when all you want to do is piss,” I said.
He laughed at me, “I’m her best friend so I can tell you she doesn’t really mind. As long as they aren’t assholes.”
“I’m sure from seeing her on TV everyone knows she bites, “ I said.
“She’s having fun with it,” he said. “I don’t know if I could deal with it though. There are crazy people out there I can tell you that much.”
“I figure yeah she was on TV but now she’s just trying to enjoy her life. It just seems silly to me how people are,” I said.
“You know what she needs to meet people like you cause everyone else just wants something from her. Would you come to my party? Can I buy you a drink? Can we take a picture with you? It gets old,” he says waving at her to come over.
“Nah don’t even trip, “ I said. “I’m sure she’s got enough groupies. Don’t want to bug her on my account. It’s not that serious.”
Hook. Line. Sinker.
“No it’s no big deal I’ll go get her,” he takes off to wait for her to finish tinkling.
I turn around and look at E and smile.
“Dude what did you tell him,” she asks.
“Nothing. We’ll see what happens,” I say winking.
I finish my beer off and put the empty bottle on the table. I wanted to turn around just because I wanted to see if he was really going to get her to come over. Not to sound like a sixteen year old but I thought it would be cool. I didn’t go meet her she would come to meet me. Sure enough I feel a tap on my shoulder and introductions are made. She was really down to earth and grateful to be pulled away from the camera phones and inquiring questions. We discussed a little about what I was telling him and she seemed slightly amused by me being indifferent to meeting her. I scanned the crowd of camera phone whores and laughed inwardly at their faces. I’m sure they were wondering what made me so special. Little did they know that there was “nothing to see here people.” They asked what we were doing after and we talked a little about going to the EndUp. We agree and Coral says she’d go but only for an hour.
We were ready to go soon after my little celebrity exchange and on our way out they were standing by the door. (this is where I fuck up kids). I tell them that it was really nice meeting them and to have a good night.
“Maybe we’ll see you at the bar,” I say and walk away.
I, in my insanity of feeling super cool (which hardly happens) FORGOT to exchange numbers with the best friend. He had asked me before but we figured we’d see each other at the bar and we could do it then. Everyone go ahead and slap their foreheads here.
Anyway we didn’t see them at the bar. We looked around and after the first 15 minutes of looking I stopped caring and danced with half naked sweaty gay boys on drugs who said things like “we’re gonna eat you up” and “I love your tits”. Oh the night life.
***UPDATE: So I lied about the celebrity thing. I totally forgot about my encounter with Courtney Love (yes THE Courtney Love) at the premiere of Pearl Harbor when I was stationed in Hawaii . She pulled me out of the stands when I yelled her name and told her daughter Bean "See babe you should want to be like her not like mommy." She gave my shoulders a squeeze and I winked at her daughter. Some of us had been allowed to be on the red carpet during the event as long as we were in uniform. Stroke of luck that I recognized her and called her name as Ben Affleck strolled by surrounded by at least 25 hot island girls. Then there was the time I met Bruce Willis when he was filming Tears of the Sun right after the towers went down. Some of us were allowed to go sit on set during the filming and see how it was really done. He was really cordial and stated "You all are the real heros. I just play the part." which at the time was pretty cool considering most of us were standing guard two days on one day off. Oh, and Christian Slater too. We were in a bar and were standing by the VIP room waiting in the bathroom line when walked out sloshed out of his mind with his boy groupies. R walked over with M in tow cause M had never met a celebrity before. I remember him being obnoxious mostly.
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| In the Taxi |
| 08.12.05 (11:09 am) [edit] |
We did it in the taxi on the way home after dancing all night in a seedy bar. She was sitting in the front seat talking to the driver. I was sitting in the back memorizing the small of her neck. Then she turned and looked at me. I noticed her boyish short hair and ruffled it slightly. She stumbled over the front seat and into my lap drunk on liquor and possibility. Something in her eyes scared me. I remember leaning over and kissing her pouty lips. Her tongue was soft against mine. It had been so long since I’d kissed anyone that meant anything but she was just a stranger sitting in the back of a cab. What started off as slow affection turned into a swirl of sweat and probing hands. Hands that filled me and made me tremble. Naked in the back seat. Leather against skin the smell of stale cigarettes and her perfume filled my senses. She was greedy with me. She held me down and pushed into me. She bit the small of my neck as I wrapped one leg around her waist and pulled her down. Her face buried into me. Gasps of air. I opened my eyes long enough to find her staring into my face as I arched into her. The fog on the window was starting to sweat. Almost I felt her body sticky against mine. Both racing to the end of something that felt so good. I bit her lip and then it was over. We lay there breathing. I didn’t want to move not then, not ever.
“Here you go,” says the cabbie.
I look down and I am dressed again and she is gone. Then I am awake wrapped around my blankets. The dawn is barely breaking through the blinds in my window and I am aware of my breathing. I reach for the clock. It’s too early to get up. So I grab a pillow and place it over my head and yell into it.
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| What's in the mix? |
| 08.10.05 (10:42 am) [edit] |
1-Fabulous cousin
2-Fabulous gal pal’s
3-beers
6-Hypnotic on the rocks
4-Cosmo shots
1-hot dancer that is still making my head spin
1-bar with trendy spiky haired lesbians
I take it all back. I like girls with short hair, amazing legs, short skirts, and beautiful eyes. Yes. Sign me up for the monthly newsletter. I’ll even hand out your fliers if you promise me she will be there next month. I had such a good time last night. I was going to leave see so I could get back to my house at an honest time. We didn’t leave till almost 1:30am after the girls offered to take me to the BART in the morning so I could stay. We were only supposed to have dinner and a little bit of sneak peak at the Brownie party. None of us had ever been. The Cuz has a crush on one of the DJ’s so I said yes let’s go see what happens at these Brownie parties.
Jesus. They have girls in schoolgirl outfits complete with glasses serve you cosmo shots in short skirts! THEN they find the one girl you find oddly attractive with short hair and make her get half naked to move her body in ways that makes your head spin. Then you realize you are sitting there with your mouth open and drink the rest of your drink to distract yourself from staring at her abs and other assets. Some guy with a hat bought J and I our cosmo shots as we sat there chatting and scanning the crowd. Then we bought the rest of the tray and waited for the rest of our party to come back to partake in the consumption of our drinks.
The girl walks by and I nudge J, “Think she’ll do a shot?”
“Ask her,” J says.
I hesitate then reach out to touch her shoulder, “Take a shot with me.”
She smiles, “No I really can’t.”
“ONE shot of cosmo is not going to kill you,” I said looking her in the eyes.
She smiles and shrugs and says, “Ok.”
Turns out that my cousin knows more lesbians than I probably ever will. She loves the thrill of the kill she says. I personally just love the thrill. She made me put dollar bills in the girls skirt. Then I danced. Turns out that my cousin also knows the dancer that makes me swoon. Oh yes because we all know how much of a smooth operator I am (NOT) I managed to spill wax on her from the little candle that illuminated our faces around the table because they insisted I take a picture with her.
“How did you know I liked that?” she asked because I kept apologizing.
I am such a bad teenage movie. I am the one that stutters and says all the wrong things to the girls.
“It’s in your eyes,” I say casually meeting her gaze. Her face had a sly smile and then I lost it again.
“I really am sorry,” I say reaching for the beer bottle and placing it where the wax had fallen. It only made her smile more.
“What was that for?” she asked.
“It’s so it won’t redden and no one will be able to tell when you get back up there,” I said.
I think my refusal to meet her stare again intrigued her cause I could see her smile out of the corner of my eye while I swigged my beer back. Did I mention how amazing her legs were? My cousin was sitting next to me when she went back up to dance.
“I think she likes you,” she said. (Mind you at this time we were rather intoxicated)
“What makes you say that?” I say turning to look at her.
“She keeps looking over here now,” she says giggling.
“Maybe she’s planning her revenge on me for spilling the wax on her,” I said half laughing.
“You are such a frooty!” she says back.
I didn’t get the girls number (awww I know) but it was fun and that is all that matters. Other than the fact that I cannot get her body off my mind this morning and the music is still thumping in my head and I may still be a little buzzed I feel wonderful this morning. I am completely smitten and I’m sure it’s unhealthy in some form or another. The last time I was this stricken was at the end of the fashion show that Cruz shot at the end of last year.
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| Fried Green Tomatoes |
| 08.09.05 (12:59 pm) [edit] |
I don’t remember how old I was when I heard the words “Tawanda!” come out of Mary Louise Parkers mouth in Fried Green Tomatoes as she jumped out of the moving train (or was that the other chick that yelled that?). I do remember that the movie made me cry and I didn’t cry easy back then. I remember thinking that the love story was the most beautiful and normal thing that can happen between two people. My little heart shattered into pieces when I realized I was totally attracted to her smile. I identified with both characters and understood their “friendship” even if it was more than obvious that they were in love with each other. You know like if you watch Xena long enough you realize that the Sapphic love between the two main characters is so there. If you think about the first time you had a best friend it was there. I’m not saying it always go further than that but as a child growing up identifying with someone causes a mixture of feelings. In girls more than boys (but I am no doctor and this is my opinion) but in my experiences its definitely true.
I’ve had a crush on her since before Angelina Jolie. Angie just put the final nail on the coffin so to speak. Anyway this all comes around because she is starring in a new Showtime show called Weeds this season. I missed the premiere Sunday but caught the encore last night. Let’s make a checklist shall we?
1. Older woman –Check
2. Married—check
3. Kids—check
4. Straight—check
5. Great tatas-check
I think she is fuckin hot. It’s like when I went on my kick with Jennifer Beals? I called my first older lady crush and explained my frustration with this new phenomena of mine.
“Well she is a hot momma,” she says laughing at me.
“Ugh. I don’t understand it ****,” I say sighing.
“Don’t know what to tell you hun,” she said.
“I don’t want to have crushes on older ladies. I’m just now getting over you,” I said laughing.
There is a hearty laugh, “You bad.”
“Yeah, yeah. Now I HAVE to watch the show,” I said.
We hung up shortly after having a conversation about doing lunch and a facial treatment that she is undergoing.
I have serious issues I am now coming to terms with. I don’t like the trendy punk lesbians with their spiky hair and tattooed arms. I don’t like the butchy bike riding ones that don’t shave their armpits. I was just not born to be a lesbian. Yes I like women but I never signed up for any of the other stuff.
I’m living in a slow hell. I want to post an ad on Craigslist for a man to take the lesbian in me away. Does anyone realize the possibility of the answers that will come to me because we all know the line “You just haven’t met the right man yet.” Ludicrous I know but it’s slowly driving me insane. This wanting and lusting after things I cannot have is just not for me. It only allows me to continue adding to the list of why I can’t find someone to just have around. It’s the only explanation for me not getting laid.
I’m in need of a summer fling and it’s all ready August. I am so far behind the curve.
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| Dancing with Hot Pink Flamingos |
| 08.03.05 (7:44 am) [edit] |
I touched down Friday night in San Diego completely submerged in thought about the company picnic. I couldn’t shake that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I'm sure Kevin noticed right away. I gave the gist of how it went down. We got in the car turned on the radio and simply said, “It’s over. There is nothing you can do about it. You are on vacation now.”
Off we took speeding away from the noisy airport and onto the freeway leaving it behind. I rolled the window down and removed my jacket. The warm salty air made me smile right away. I stuck my arm out which is a little habit of mine to feel the air against my palm as I let it flap lazily against the wind.
It was Pride Weekend in San Diego and I was going to spare the whole gay pride speech because we all know how anti-lets-hang-out-and-be -gay-together I am. I went one because I missed my birthday celebration and two because it was with Kevin and when I go anywhere with him gay/straight/confused we always have a good time. He took me to his favorite bar Hamburger Mary’s in the Hillcrest area of down town San Diego. The place was PACKED with people and there were little pink blown up flamingo’s EVERYWHERE. I fell in love with it automatically because there was gay line dancing going on! I had never been or seen anything like in my life. Everyone there was friendly and I don’t know if it was because of the spirit of the celebration or because that’s just the way it is there.
It was four days of dancing, drinking, laughing, dancing, drinking and dancing some more. The first night we hit up two place’s the first being The Pink Flamingo Room (that’s my name for it) and the second a place called the Brass Rail. In there we found a room full of hip-hop and r&b heads. Some walking around half naked bumping and grinding on the dance floor. It was seedy place full of dark things but I fell right into the crowd. We danced till our shirts were soaked and our throats were dry. We danced until the lights came up and everyone was stumbling out of the bar. Most were hooking up. Some were breaking up. We got home at 4am that morning. We were laughing at the idea that we had to get up the next morning at 9am for the parade.
I have never been to an actual Pride parade, yes I live in SF. No I have never attended the one here. I was totally taken back by the amount of people that were present. There were ALL kinds of people there. I was snapping and stopping and snapping and staring and making eye contact and pinching Kev to get his attention when I saw something worth gawking at. We laughed and got sunburned. I took it all in. There were mixed emotions which I can not really begin to find the words for. It was amazing to me when the hoards of people walked by at the end of the parade joining a walk of support and love. There were people hanging of their balcony clapping and yelling and waving rainbow flags everywhere. There was confetti and drag queens, there were dykes and bikes and gay Mormon’s, there were fourteen year olds making out with each other (which totally caught me off guard), there were parents and children (families), there were water guns and more lube than any gay person can possibly use (I think), there was loud music and bubbles, there were daddies and twinkies, they were all there for one reason or another. Whether in support or just plain old curiosity to see what the big hoopla is about they were there. Thousands of people. Drinking and celebrating whatever it was that on that day they stood for. It was a pleasant surprise. It was something worth seeing. We didn’t rush past it to get to a bar we were part of what was happening.
The rest of the weekend was exactly that. Party after party. We spent most of the weekend surrounded by complete strangers. Eating early morning breakfast or meeting them for dinner. There was this incredibly hot couple whom I told in a druken moment that I was going to stalk them all weekend long. Turns out that we ran into the beautiful boys everywhere we went. They would laugh and hug me and eventually I told them that they should stop stalking ME that it wasn’t the original plan.
As always I left Kevin’s side satisfied and totally appreciated his care in making sure I was having a good time. I didn’t want to come back. I wanted to know how people can afford to just not worry about work and sit around a bar full of hot pink flamingos and drink all day while basking the sea of bodies. I want that. I don’t want to pay bills or not be able to take days off.
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| Picnic Disaster |
| 08.02.05 (6:21 am) [edit] |
There is nothing more to say on it. It was fumbled and NOTHING could make me feel better. Our spot was poached. I did not know that you could RESERVE the spot. It's a park! Needless to say I was standing on the top of the hill with a glass full of Bacardi and V-juice flagging people down a little after noon. I stood up there for an hour.
Complain. Complain. Complain.
I have a meeting with the head honcho this morning. He completely ignored me this morning.
Cell phones dont work in the mountains. People can't seem to function without cell phones.
You know what? Eat me.
I will take responsibility for what I messed up. I am and adult after all but I know he's going to make me feel like I am 10 and got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. I know that I'm going to get mad and I'm going to do my best to hold back the tears.
EVERYONE else found it.
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