Moving on Out

The last day of the year. The last day before I switch jobs. It's weird that it all timed out this way. I think I'm just kind of out of it in regards to the whole switch. I've known it was coming for such a long time and now it's here and it's just happening. I think it's just my defense mechanism, I just let it happen like it's out of my hands. But it's my life and it's people I spend a lot of time with and it's changing for the first time in a while. The last time things changed so radically, I ended up kicking and screaming for weeks, months, maybe a year. I hope I'm moving away from the dark and into the light. And I guess it's better that I'm actually taking the chance instead of standing still.

Flashing Lights

I was driving to work. I hurried to make a light towards the freeway--not because I was in a rush, but just because I didn't want to have to stop. I heard the siren and immediately went to the dark place. What did I do? I was rushing? Was I speeding? Was I unsafe? My tags are up to date. Was a light out? I just reattached my rear view mirror with glue, so that's not missing. What happened? I hate trying to figure out what I've done wrong. I hate that feeling of having done something wrong and not knowing what it is.
I turned on to the freeway on ramp and saw the lights flashing behind me. Ugh. It's the holidays, it's 8 in the morning. Is this really necessary?
The police officer was just entering the highway, he passed me and went on his way. I hate driving.

French Dreams

I had a dream I was at the French Open. But it wasn't like the real French Open, it was like an indoor bull ring where everything was lit by a soft, red light. Rafael Nadal had made the final and his opponent was... some 8 year old kid. I remember thinking "How did this kid get through six rounds?" But I explained it to myself by thinking he must be a clay court specialist. I thought, maybe he just has speed and gets everything back all the time, waiting for whoever he is playing to make a mistake. The crowd was wild and the kid was no match for Rafa. Towards the middle of the third set, he just sat down. Rafa came over to check on him, but he was too tired to continue. At first, the kid's brother came on the court, wanting to play until the kid's dad came over and picked up his son, telling Rafa that it was over.
The most stunning thing about the dream was the soft, red light. It was so amazing how everything in the bull ring took on that tinge of red.

Slipping

I can't make it. I feel like screaming. I feel like throwing a tantrum. Don't make me go back! Don't make me go back! There's too much to do, too much to see. I don't want to go back to that little box. The hours are slipping away. When the days seemed plentiful, things were fine, I didn't seem to mind, but now that my time is numbered I feel things slipping through my fingers. It's out of my control. My days are numbered. I can see myself pacing like a cat behind bars, tense and unpredictable. My brain searches for a way out, but there isn't any. I look out my window at the darkness and in my mind I actually think "I've experienced my last sunset." I don't know why things seem so final, like there's no other time but now. R & H know something's up and they're trying to comfort me. They are telling me it will be fine. I want to believe them.
Endure.

Just a little bit longer

I'm so thankful that time has gone by so slowly. Usually with breaks in work, I blink and they're over, but this one has seemed to have lasted. The days seem longer. Maybe it's because all I'm doing is reading and a few activities here and there. I don't know, but I know I needed this. I needed a few days to clear out the brush so it doesn't catch fire when the winds start blowing again. Now that Monday is nearing, it's a little stressful thinking about going back to that. But I think I can survive. I think I can make it.

Carnage

After playing tennis with DW, I was dressed and ready and knew if I took a nap or waited too long, I wouldn't be able to leave the apartment for the rest of the day. I knew I had to push through and do what was needed. It was "Twilight" that made me do it. I had to venture out. I was reading the second book way too quickly and realizing that I had to have the third ready in case I finished sooner rather than later. I ventured out... to Target. Big mistake.
The Burbank Empire Center was a nightmare. Cars everywhere, piling up in long lines along all the roads and the stores were full of people going in and out, lines that stretched across the store. Part of me wondered if I went in, would I be able to get out. To think, before I left, I was thinking it was a Friday afternoon and Christmas was officially over, how bad could it be. The answer was horrible. And the reason I was there, the last two books in the series, were all gone, except for copies of the ones I already had and one copy of "Eclipse." I thought I would show them, I wouldn't wait in line for just one of the books and would just go to another Target and get both.
Well, I went to another Target and it was worse. It was weird because at the moment I was there, it seemed like 90% of the billions of people in the store were waiting in line. I went to check the books, they had two copies of the fourth book and none of the third. I wasn't going to make the same mistake. I took one of the copies, which looked like it was in better shape than the other--which meant it looked like it fed on by vampires maybe three times instead of four--and waited in a shorter line in the back of the store.
It wasn't so bad. I had my iPod and try to focus on how funny it was that seemingly everyone was out of their house and shopping at the exact same time and what a mess everything was. I saw a lady muscling through the line and making loud comments about "Rude people on Christmas." I made it through and got in my car and drove for closer to home.
The drive was scary. Everyone was in a hurry and making crazy choices on the road. I tried not to get caught up in it. I listened to my radio and took deep breaths. I finally made it to Borders or Barnes and Nobel. I never know what Bookstar in Studio City really is and although they were out of the softcover of "Eclipse," they had plenty of the hardcover. Fine. I took it, I bought it. I picked up some milk at Vons and went to lock myself indoors. I would prefer to stay indoors reading the rest of the weekend, but I don't think I can get away with it.
I just hope next time I venture outside, it isn't anywhere near the madness of what it was today.

You Can't Say That I Am Not Your "Friend"

Which is it? Do you want to know everything or do you want to stay out of it? You can't have both. You need to pick a side and stay there. There was a time, not long ago, when you said how much you hated it when people who called themselves "friends" would omit information or not tell you the whole story. So I have tried my best, to fill you in on everything that I have found out...or overheard...or been told (even in confidence). I have tried to be what you describe as a "friend". But, you have pulled away. Maybe it is for your own protection, because it is all too much for you to take in. Maybe you are just afraid of getting hurt...again. I thought we were in this together? There was a time when I was fighting for myself, clawing my way to the top, and you were upset that I wasn't sharing the whole story. So I looked inside and I decided what was more important...and I chose you. I chose you. But things have changed between us. So from now on, you can't be mad at me if I hear some information and I choose not to tell you. You can't be mad if I fight for something and choose to leave you behind. You can't say that I am not your "friend." I have tried. You are the one shutting me out and choosing not to tell me the whole story. You are the one omitting information. If you were my "friend" you would talk to me about your feelings and tell me if there was something you needed from me...I am not a mind reader. "Friends" share their truth, even if it is not easy.

False Alarm

Thank goodness everything is okay. I'm watching firetrucks parked in the middle of the street right outside my apartment. I was sitting on the couch, engrossed in "New Moon" and Bella and Edward's doomed love affair when I heard the ringing. It sounded far away, so I really didn't pay much attention to it. Suddenly, the firetrucks were here, lights flashing, horns blaring, and firemen walking to the building next to mine.
I got a weird panic feeling, like, "What do I do?" "Where are the cat carriers?" "Where do we go?" "What should I bring?" "How much time do I have?" "Are all the hotels full?" "Shouldn't I be wearing more than just my underwear?"
They're leaving now and I'm glad I don't have to deal with any horrible reality that might have happened.
Mabye, on this Baby Jesus Birthday, I'm being reminded that it's not the things that matter, it's the cats. It's all about the cats.

Some Secrets Should Never Be Spoken

I usually want to know everything about everyone. I've always had a natural curiosity about people's stories and where they come from and what they've done. But lately I've been realizing that there are things I don't want to know. It's one thing when I'm prying for information but it's another when the information is just handed over on a platter with no warning. There are some things that should be left unspoken. There are some things that damage my brain and stay dormant inside only to flare up at the most unexpected moments.
I was at church tonight. It was a Christmas service and my brain was partially on fire. I couldn't concentrate, there were all these things going through my head. It felt like one of those moments where you grab your hair with your hands and shout out loud because you just can't take it anymore. Luckily, I kept myself together.
It certainly doesn't feel like Christmas Eve tonight. With the rain falling and the sudden onslaught of things to deal with at work. And my brain on fire. Thank goodness I have a couple days to pull it together.

Robot Sent Down

Sometimes I'm at a loss when it comes to human interactions. I feel like a robot or a space alien sent down to study behavior without knowing exactly what's going on. My mind ends up like a scratched record, repeating the same lines over and over with no payoff. When I see certain people together, the record starts skipping.
For me, connecting with someone isn't something that happens often. It's pretty rare, and I find that when people are together in any kind of relationship it's usually easy to spot why: romance, work, friendship, common interests, sexual attraction, stuff like that. I do realize that I'm the last person to be trying to dissect relationships. Maybe the weird thing is not being able to connect with people that often, and the normal thing is just forging connections out of whatever is available.
Still, it brings me back to certain people. I know things about these people, not deep things but patterns and small histories, some facts and stuff. I think about certain combinations of people and become mystified. I journey somewhere in my mind where I imagine conversations, interactions, exchanges. My mind just can't comprehend what's going on.
I think I'm giving myself a headache.

The Calm After the Storm

I'm expecting chaos. It must be around the corner. Things are going too smoothly. There should be bumps, there should be setbacks. But I don't want them.
Today I drove B to the airport at 4:15AM. It was raining and I made it back home in time to sleep for a little bit before work. I almost overslept, but was actually early and things went well. It was pouring rain again as I drove to work. I really need new windshield wipers.
Now I wait for tomorrow, the big day to see how things are going. I'm nervous. I want things to continue going smoothly. I don't want to even think about things going not smoothly because I don't want that to even be an option.
I guess I'll know what happens when it happens, but for now I'm just going to enjoy the peace and calm.

Returns

B and I went to play tennis for the first time in a while. Surprisingly, I hadn't missed playing that much. I think it was all the pressure from league and the tournaments and I was just happy to not think about it for a while. I've still been watching tons of it on TV. The Tennis Channel is playing all the best matches of the year and it's hard not to get caught up again in Rafael Nadal's triumph over Roger Federer in the Wimbledon Championships.
I was shocked when B and me first started hitting today. Things went well. I was hitting the ball better than I have in a long time and it felt really good to play. The ease of playing didn't last the whole time we were there and I found myself struggling as the day went on, but hitting well made me realize how much I love playing when all the nerves and pressure and voices in my head aren't involved.
I want to remember how it felt in those first minutes of playing. I want to always play like that--with freedom, with a sense of fun, with a sense of enjoyment.

I Saw Him

B and I were in the car on the 101 near the 101/170 split. I looked over and there he was. It was some beat up blue car. We were staying on the 101 while he was going on the 170. It was Santa Claus and he looked happy in the front seat on the way to wherever he was going.

My New Obsessions

1. "Twilight"
I made B go with me last Saturday to the first showing. I wasn't expecting much and there were tons of movies I wanted to see, but that's the one I chose. I got our tickets and woke B up from his slumber to go. The movie had massive flaws, but it also has a crazy, romantic spirit that I couldn't resist. I love doomed romance and obsessive love. Someone told me a long time ago that I had the taste of a 14 year old girl. I guess I still do. I went out and bought the first two books. It's not Harry Potter, but it will do.
2. Jenny Lewis & Rilo Kiley
It started out slowly. A while ago, JG gave me a copy of "Under the Blacklight." Then I read an article comparing Rilo Kiley to Fleetwood Mac. Then I was buying more of their CDs. Then I saw Rilo Kiley in concert at the Greek and started listening to them more. Then "Acid Tongue" got released and me and B went to see Jenny Lewis at the Orpheum. It's been most all I've been listening to ever since. Songs I didn't think I liked, I started liking. It's very similiar to my love for Stevie Nicks and Fleetwood Mac. I like the non-Stevie Fleetwood songs, but her songs are the ones I love the most. I like the non-Jenny Rilo songs, but her songs are the ones I love the most. Current favorites "A Man/Me/Then Jim," "Does He Love You," "I Never," "Pictures of Success," "The Big Guns," "Rise Up With Fists," "Silver Lining," "Close Call," "Under the Blacklight," "The Next Messiah," "Godspeed," and many more.
3. The Shadow Side
I've been looking for the darkess in people. It's there in everyone, but with some people it's more obvious in others. I like seeing how it manifests itself from person to person, how it varies. I like that some people shy away from it, while others embrace it, while others try to make it more than what it is.
4. Vegetable Soup
When B and I go out and it's on the menu, I order it. So far, the big bowl at California Chicken Cafe has been the most impressive. I made my own batch from scratch and it's been hitting the spot on these cold nights. I could never figure out the base broth, I thought it had tons of spices in it, but when B's mom came, she made it and it was amazing. She just used canned whole, peeled tomatoes and added vegetables.
5. Mao Asada & Johnny Weir
They are pretty much the reasons I started ice skating. I was shocked when Miss ML ripped into Johnny when I said I wanted to be like him in class. But to me there are none better. They are both so light on the ice, they're fluid and beautiful and amazing.
6. Lindsay Davenport
I'm so mad at how she's messed with me this past year. She has a baby, retires, comes back, plays, stops playing, plays well, plays badly, enters the Australian Open, announces she's pregnant and withdraws. Ugh. But I will always love how she hits the ball. No one else hits like that. And unlike Mary Pierce and Justine Henin, it's not like what's she's done is unforgiveable. I will never forgive Justine for retiring in the 2nd set against Amelie Mauresmo in the Australian Open Final. And I will never forgive Mary for taking a 16 minute time out against Elena Dementieva in the US Open Semi-finals. But with Lindsay I'm just selfish and love her. I still hope she comes back some day.
7. Reading in the bathtub
I'm usually more about listening to music in the bathtub, but with the weather like it is, I like just getting a book or magazine and taking my time. All the pages end up getting crinkled and wet, but I can't help myself.

For a moment, the world makes sense

Preface: Usually I ignore people trying to get my attention while I'm riding my bike. Most times they're yelling at me, throwing ice at me, trying to swerve into me. I just try to avoid everyone.
Today on the way home I was riding in the cold, in the dark. I was in a rush to get home because me and B were going over to a friend's for dinner. On the bike path there was this guy who yelled out to me and even over my iPod I heard him and put on the brakes.
"What street is that?" he said pointing.
"Van Nuys," I told him.
"Excellent. Thank you very much," he said and continued on his way.
"No problem."
I ruminated on the exchange for the whole ride back. I kept thinking that life should always be that way. It should always involve people communicating and being polite and respectful and making an effort and appreciating one another. There was something beautiful in those few seconds. I don't know why it touched me like it did, but I was happy to be part of that moment.

In Drag in NY

Last night I had a dream that I was walking around in New York. I ran into GP, who was dressed in drag. I didn't think anything was weird about it and he seemed perfectly fine. The strange thing was, it wasn't just drag. It was a full make up with prosthetics and fancy clothes. He even had a fake spray tan. His wig was long and blond. It didn't even look like him, but I knew it was him. We stopped and talked about the mail he had to deliver and we went on our ways. He seemed really happy and I was just glad that he was enjoying himself.

Part of the Day

I've been so focused at work lately. It's like I'm walking a tight rope and if I look down, I'll go falling into some abyss. There are parts of me that are really worried and questioning and others that are excited.
My sister called and left me a voicemail. With the wind chill, it's 17 degrees below and they are expecting even more snow on the ground in Milwaukee. It makes me scared to mention the cold here, but for here, it is cold. I'm cold. It's hard to get out from under the blankets in the morning. (Although when B leaves earlier than me, it is easier to get out of bed.)
It's even harder to convince myself that I should ride my bike to work. Luckily, it's also been raining, so I've been forced to drive, and I gladly drive in my bare feet with the heater on.
Today at the gym, Terry was working with his new big fish. It was nice seeing him busy and away from me. I was still there when he finished and got a little nervous as he passed by, but nothing came of it. He just walked on by without a word.
Some of the new kids were talking about one of their friends today. BFH called my attention to what they were saying. They were commenting on how old their friend was. Now how old, but saying he was old. He's 23. I was shocked, sad, scared, and tried to avoid thinking about it.

Atonement

Today is the day. It starts now. It's my chance to do unto others as I would have them do unto me. Four new people started work today. It's hard to believe that a little over a year ago, I was one of them. Except these new kids seem eager and on the ball. My transition into my day job wasn't easy. For months after my job started, I was kicking and screaming internally. I was moody and easy to irritate. I was a little lost as to what to do, but didn't want to ask questions. I'm sure I wasn't easy to work with, but there were still things that went on around me that I didn't appreciate. I guess now is my chance to be there, to answer questions, to not be in such a bad mood about it. I realize there were a lot of good things about the time I had and I want to make sure those good things continue. And now that I know the bad things, I can try to steer clear of them. That's the true test. Instead of continuing to do things just because they're done that way, it's time to make things right that weren't right before. It's time to let freedom ring.
The last couple days at work have been like a mirror. I've seen my bad behavior reflected back at me and it's time to deal with it. It's gross having to admit my faults and try to steer clear of being the ultimate hypocrite, but it's a lesson I need to learn.

Old is New

Back in the day I used to get a lot of people commenting on how I looked, usually in reference to me looking like someone. It was sometimes someone specific, but most times it was just "someone." As in, "You look like someone," but the person saying it could never think of who. Recently those comments just seemed to have stopped, but this weekend people were commenting again.
Someone said I looked like I should be on reality TV and not working on it. Another one said she thought she worked with me. Maybe it's my hair, maybe it's the holidays, maybe it's leaving the house and running into new people. The weekend culminated in someone apologizing for not listening to what I was saying because she was staring at my eyes. I just find it strange going forever without any comments and then they all come at once.
It reminds me of how I started working at my current job. MM turned in my resume to Human Resources along with a link to some essay I wrote about how within a few weeks one year a bunch of random people told me I looked like Joey McIntyre. AA, the head of Human Resources at the time, was a big fan of New Kids on the Block and thought it was really funny. My interview pretty much consisted of talking about Joey and I started work a few days later.
I went to a Vedic Astrologer a few years ago and he explained that our lives are cyclical, that certain patters emerged over years and years: renewals, setbacks, discoveries. I wonder if something now is relating to something then. It does seem like there are things happening that feel like a new start. If renewal is coming, I hope I've learned a few lessons and don't get stuck in a rut again because I'm scared of change. There are some things that aren't worth repeating.

Last Night's Dreams Starring BFH & B

I had a dream that A and me went with BFH and his girlfriend to go get a tattoo. She had a very specific one in mind and sat down in the chair as we watched the tattoo guy start. He started drawing lines that were roots around her wrist. She wanted a tree there. BFH warned us that it wouldn't be pretty and his girlfriend, M, started to squirm. A and I wanted the tattoo guy to stop but BFH assured us that she always responded to getting tattoos like this and it was no big deal. Anyway, she ended up fainting and the tattoo guy kept on creating a tree around her wrist. BFH stayed with her while A and me went to wait out in the lobby.
Then later, I dreamed I was visiting my sister. A lot of people were there, including B and NW from work. B got upset that it was so crowded and by a comment that mom made, so he left and walked in the snow to a bus stop. I ran out to follow him and waited in the cold and the snow with him until the bus came. Suddenly, there was a whole crowd at the bus stop and a yellow school bus pulled up. I charged to the front to make sure we would actually get on because I didn't want to spend more time waiting in the snow. I got on and the inside of the school bus was amazingly big and seated everyone with room left over. We were on our way and ended up at the mall, which thankfully wasn't that crowded.

Terry Hooks a Very Big Fish

Yes, Terry was there again today. He looked kind of dismayed. There were a lot of people around, but he was just sitting on one of the benches. I prayed he'd stay away from me. And he did. Seems he started randomly talking to a guy who looked about 6'4 and they had a long conversation. I wondered if Terry was giving the tall guy the hard sell, but whatever he said seemed to work. Terry stood up and patted the guy on the back and they walked downstairs together. Terry seemed so happy. I guess Christmas came early for him.

Terry & the Winds of Change

Thankfully Terry left me alone today. I saw him lurking and skipped two machines and went right to cardio just so I could make sure I didn't have to deal with him today.
In other news, it's like a storm is raging around me. I'm trying to stay calm. I guess it's part of my avoidance issues. When things get stressful, I tend to withdraw and just let things happen. I'd rather relinquish control and go passive and not take an active part in the winds of change. I guess part of me just wants to push the button and stand back and let the chips fall where they fall. I feel kind of numb. I'm going dead inside. I just want things to work out!

"Moving On Up"

Everything is about to change. Why does change look so good when it is months away? It's like your neighbor, who looks really hot when he or she is across the street, but when she comes closer and stands on your front porch requesting a cup of sugar...you wonder what you were thinking. Everything appears better when it is not in front of your face. When you are not forced to take action, to deal with something that has only been a fantasy.
Something that I have wanted for a very long time, is about to happen. I am merely hours away from seeing the results of something I manifested months ago. I remember sitting outside at the Galleria on a sunny LA day with my NLP life coach, Danny, and together we visualized this very thing, even down to the timing. I saw it in black and white and than in color. I heard the words being spoken and saw myself smile and accept the offer.
And now...here we are.
Hold on K...this is going to be interesting.

Continuing Adventures with Terry

I sit there thinking it's all in my head. I'm making a big deal out of nothing. I'm just making this thing an issue because my life is as plain as a blank piece of paper. Terry bothered me once and he'll never bother me again. He's a smudge. But a smudge on a blank piece of paper calls attention to itself.
I'm in the gym and doing my frantic workout. I don't see Terry, but still I'm hurrying. His ghost haunts me. Then I see him, the ghost materializes, he passes by. He's talking to someone else. Good. I move on. Keep moving. Keep moving. I'm in the corner working on my shoulders. He approaches. It's earlier in the day than I'm used to going to the gym, so there aren't many people in the gym. There is absolutely no one between me and him. I write fake text messages that I'll never send in between sets to keep busy.
Why does Terry keep coming around?
Keep up the good work.
Everything will work out fine.
I must admit, I want to know what's up with him, with his gray hair and mustache, with his pot belly, with his black shoes and pants and white socks. He looks like he would be at home playing Santa Claus. Do you have a wife, Terry? Do you have kids? What's your home like? What's your favorite movie? How many times has your heart been broken?
I'm still thinking of things I can tell him if he talks to me, mean things. Things that will make him never want to bother me again. I turn away and look out the window.
He leaves. I continue. I move on to a new machine. Terry has disappeared. I move on to another machine. Terry reappears. He's approaching. He reaches out his hand for me to shake. I oblige.
"That's not a shake," he tells me and makes me shake his hand again.
I laugh nervously.
I can't use any of my lines. I can't be mean to him. It's a weird personal quirk, I tend to only be able to be mean to people who mean something to me. Only those I love are witness to the true depths of my evil.
"So, do you want to bulk up?" he asks.
I thought we had this conversation.
"No," I say and laugh nervously.
"You're sure?" he asks.
I still know that not wanting to bulk up is like poison to him.
"Yes," I say. I mean, I wouldn't mind bulking up, but it's not my main goal in life.
"I saw you working out shoulders before," he says.
I laugh nervously.
"You know, you could look like Clark Kent. You could be Superman," Terry tells me.
Really, Terry? I'm sure you use the same line on every small, nerdy guy with glasses.
I laugh nervously.
"That doesn't really interest me," I reply.
"Are you sure?" he says, surprised.
I laugh nervously.
"I'm going to get you to do a fitness assessment," he says.
He must be trying to use the power of positive thinking. Is he reading Tony Robbins? He must be trying to manifest.
I laugh nervously.
Finally, he walks off. I can go back to my music. I need the soothing tones of Jenny Lewis, Rilo Kiley, She & Him. A moment. Oh no, he's coming back.
"Wait a minute. Are you afraid of success?" he asks me.
What is this? Is this part of your power of positive thinking Tony Robbins thing? Is this your secret weapon that's going to break me down, make me call you and schedule a fitness assessment?
Well, Terry, yes. I'm afraid of success. I'm also afraid of failure. I don't like to take chances. I box myself off so I can avoid anything and everything. I like to play it safe. I don't like the unknown. My life is sectioned off. I keep myself back from opportunities. I find it easier to say no. I'm scared of the world. Do you really want to go into this now? Do you want to know my fears? Do you want to know about my childhood?
He asked me if I was afraid of success.
"No," I answer.
"Okay. Just wanted to check," Terry says and walks off.

Yellow Trans Am & More Terry

I had a dream last night that I bought a yellow Trans Am. I was just driving by and knew I had to have it. It was in great condition and the guy let me have it for $8000 just because he knew I wanted it so badly. It was dirty and so I got it washed and it came out looking like new. I ended up driving it to a record store in the city (it was a cinch to parallel park) and after I went inside, I realized I had forgot to put money in the meter. So I went out and found the parking enforcement lady at the car, but she was so impressed by it, she just said to put in some change.
In other news, my workout was once again rushed. I saw Terry and started darting from machine to machine again. In between sets I would tie my shoes over and over or stretch out for fear he might judge me for taking too long. While I was using the free weights, he came over to put all the weights in their right places and was only a few feet away from me when doing so. He said something to me, but I didn't hear him. I noticed he had trouble figuring out what weight went where. It seemed odd to me, since I'm constantly rearranging the misplaced weights all the time. And it led me to the same old question. Why can't people put weights back where they belong? And why did Terry have to talk to me in the first place, leading me to obsessively worry about him talking to me again?

Everyone's A...

I think part of my fear of Terry comes from the thought that might stand and watch me and start criticizing me. I admit it. I'm horrible with criticism. I think it stems from college. I remember my 2nd semester Freshman year in Writing Workshop II, a required class. I had written a wacky essay on Tori Amos's "Baker, Baker" that was a defense of all interpretations of everything (such ambition!). We had to workshop our papers and one guy in class wrote, "This essay labors under the illusion that it is enlightened." I was shocked. I mean, what was I supposed to do with that?
It seems to me that in workshop situations, the best criticism comes from people asking how to make your work better, not telling you why your work is bad. That class changed something in me. I stated to get scared. Although we were required to workshop our papers, I ended up getting around it and never sharing another thing in that class. When I went on to other writing classes, I continued to share as little as possible. I think my fear of people's disapproval has kept me from sharing a lot. And it's probably why I'm so defensive. Nowadays, I rarely ask for criticism, so when I get it, it's not something I'm good at dealing with.
I do realize criticism can be good. I can call upon AA, GF and TB for examples of teachers who knew the right things to say. And KI was always supportive and intuitive when it came to getting to the root of what something was. Even at ice skating, I actually love getting criticized by Miss ML. I guess it comes down to respect. If I respect you, criticize away. Still, it's a big responsibility. The people I respect are the ones most capable of hurting me. When I don't respect someone, that's when things get even more dangerous--when a stray comment or a moved comma can seem like a declaration of war.
I guess part of me wishes for the days when I labored under the illusion that I was enlightened., instead of living with the belief that my enlightenment is illusionary.

Ticking Numbers

Change is nearing. It's creeping up on me. My main coping defenses are avoidance and denial, so when I know something is coming, I just don't think about it until I absolutely have to. There's something that's been on the horizon for a while, and now it's almost here. I thought I was okay with it, but the closer it gets, the more sick I'm feeling. I guess I'll just deal with it when it arrives, but the anticipation is killing me. I don't know what it about it that's making me anxious. I think I fear failing horribly, or not being good enough, or not getting it, or of wasting everyone's time. I know I should be thinking positive thoughts, but it's always so much easier to go to the scary places.

The Hard Sell 2

The gym yesterday was a tense experience. I was working out and then saw my new friend, Terry. I found myself darting from machine to machine just to avoid him. I didn't want to make eye contact for fear he might attack. I think what upset me more thinking about the whole situation with him is that he obviously went after me because I'm smaller than all the normal loud, 'roided out manly men and I'm sure he assumed I wanted my own imposing physique. He never seems to bother the guys who slam weights around and never put them back after they use them. I saw him go after one of the older guys too, so I guess I'm not alone. I found myself coming up with things to say to him so I could be ready in case he bothered me. Alas, I was able to avoid him by just cutting my workout short when I saw him nearing again. I ran to the cardio machine and never looked back.

Clean Start

I cleaned out both my email inboxes and now I find myself obsessively checking them for new email. I don't know if I'm waiting for new email as a sign that I exist and am able to connect with people, or if I'm waiting so I can just delete whatever arrives and keep things clean and uncluttered.
I guess I'm in a cleaning mood. After thinking about it for a while, I removed an old blog of mine off the internet. I made sure to save the entries and started reading them. It didn't take long for me to get distressed at the pages and pages of ramblings. I had/have this mentality that I'm trapped, I'm stuck. But looking back 5 years ago and seeing things from a new perspective makes me realize I've chosen every single thing that's happened to me. I've made the choice to be inactive in some things and overactive in others. I'm starting to get cold sweats as I write this. It's hard having to face up to things and admit that I'm here because I put myself here, not because of some grand plot against me. It's hard sitting and looking at a record of my mistakes, wondering what I've learned and if I've even started to put things right.

The Hard Sell

One of the reasons I like the gym is just because of the enjoyment of getting away from work and doing something semi-productive with the time I don't have to be there. I know I take my time and probably don't lift correctly or count the time between sets right, but whatever. It's partly meditative and restoring just getting away. I like listening to my music and zoning out, nothing more and nothing less. That's why it was a rude awakening to be bothered yesterday by Terry, a trainer. He came up and introduced himself in the middle of my workout.
"So, what are you trying to do there?"
"I'm just trying to stay tone."
The words were blasphemous to Terry.
"You mean you don't want to gain muscle?"
"No," I told him.
I thought that would get him off my case. But after asking me my age and telling me I looked a lot younger, he launched into a monologue about how I would be more impressive to girls with more muscle and I needed to watch out because once I got older, I could be walking around with a spare tire.
"You like girls, don't you?" he asked.
"No," I answered, getting a slight, horrible flashback to when I came out to my parents at a Burger King.
Unlike my parents, Terry seemed to selectively not to hear my answer.
"You have to be careful asking that around here," he chuckled.
"Yeah, it's Los Angeles."
He kept bothering me. He wouldn't stop. I was trying to be polite. I had no intention of working out with him and he knew it, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He kept wanting to set up an appointment. There is no way I wanted to spend any amount of my free time with someone like him.
"Why are you just sitting there?" he said, motioning for me to get back to lifting.
"Because you're talking to me and won't fucking shut up," I thought, but instead just continued my exercise.
"There's the muscle," he said, watching me creepily.
"Yeah. It's hiding. It only comes out for special occasions," I answered.
He finally left me in peace, but made sure to come back when I had moved on to another machine.
I ended up skipping some machines and just moved on to cardio to make sure I was away from him. I felt invaded in my quiet sanctuary. I sat there hoping he wouldn't ever bother me again and make my alone time uncomfortable and strange.
I didn't go back today. We had a department lunch.
I'm scared for the next time I go back. I don't want to be bothered. I want to work out alone, doing whatever exercises I want to do in whatever way I want to do them, listening to Jenny Lewis and zoning out.

This World Is Way Too Big For You

Overly sensitive people get on my last nerve. It's like I have to watch every word that comes out of my mouth, every step I take has to be delicately lifted and placed as to not throw off their mood or their fragile way of being in the world. I am tired of the smallest sentence being taken completely out of context or read into way too much. Sometimes, things said and/or done are merely what is written on the page...nothing more or less. Just because YOU take everything personally and think everyone and everything is out to get you, does not mean they actually are. But, do as you wish. Continue to close off the world and the people in the world one by one...until it is just you left alone in a tiny box - Just as you would want it to be.

Flashes

Sometimes when I squint, I can see clearly without my glasses. It doesn't last long, but it's nice to have perfect vision even if it's just momentary. I feel like my brain stretches in the same way sometimes, when a simple action or comment can show something for what it really is. And either I realize it and take stock of it, or life just goes on in the same way. I've had a couple of those moments lately, for better or for worse. People just seem to be revealing themselves lately. I don't know if it's because of my mood that I'm seeing things this way or if it just is. But I'm not questioning it. I'm just trying to remember the past and how it's not the impressions made by getting to know someone that end up counting in the long run, it's the little moments that seem inconsequential--those little flashes when the truth comes out that are so easily missed. It's easy to talk myself out of them, but it's usually to my own detriment. I'm trying to file things away and adjust appropriately.

Lunch with Madonna and Family

Last night I had a dream about having lunch with Madonna. We were at some dive pub place and the whole family was there: Lourdes, Rocco, David, and even Guy. There were two different tables and tension between Madonna and Guy, although it wasn't horrible. Surprisingly, Madonna didn't complain about the greasy food on the menu, but Guy wasn't happy with it. He wasn't in the mood for any of the entrees and just seemed over the whole experience.

Today

Ugh. It was fine until I actually got to the street that I work on. Then I saw the car and the building and just thought of everything bad. Work wasn't that bad today. It was just work. I guess any job would be the same. I'm sure it's much nicer to have free time and do whatever it is you want, but that's not an option for me. So I work. I try to perform. Try to do right. Try to pay the bills without thinking about weeks, months, years from now.
I had a long conversation with JL today and it kind of freaked me out. We were talking about emotions and politics and the economy and music and afterwards my brain was kind of friend. It's easier not to think about difficult questions sometimes. It's easier to just have faith and not really question yourself. Right now I'm still tired and I think I might need a few days of easy before things get difficult again.

Lessons Learned: Thanksgiving Edition

1. I can survive days without the internet. I was mostly missing Blogger, Facebook, and Hotmail, but I was fine without them and was kind of surprised at how I don't really get that many important communications.
2. Never order steak well-done at a hotel Thanksgiving dinner. Or turkey. The well-done steak will be bloody and the turkey will be mostly giblets. And it's probably best to avoid all the sides as well.
3. When playing in a tennis tournament, I should take exactly enough Gatorade to get me through to the finals. I just grabbed a bunch when I was leaving and didn't really calculate how much I would actually need. So I just always had it, until I lost 6-4, 2-6, 7-5 in the semifinals. I was on my last bottle in the last set and blew a 5-3 lead. (Of course, last tournament, I took tons and lost in my first match. And I felt pretty stupid.)
4. My nerves are there or they aren't. I don't know what does it. I lost the first set in 2 of my matches and was still able to win them. In my last match, I lost the first set, won the second and was on the verge of winning the third but came up short.
5. No matter how fit I think I am, I can still cramp up. Badly. Ouch.
7. When eating a Japanese steakhouse, realize that when you're seated in random groups, there is room for anything to happen. B and I were seated with a father/girlfriend/father's son group and a mom/dad/2 sons group. It was a surreal occasion. Everyone wanted to talk, but I don't go to dinner to talk with random strangers. The people were interesting, but it got overwhelming at points. Especially when the mom would freak out at the father's son and the chef over any drug reference made in jest at the table. "This is not the time and place for that type of humor!" I hope she watches the commercials on TV and talks to her kids about drugs before it's too late.
8. Never stay in a hotel where you have to walk a mile from the elevators to your room.
9. No matter which one it is or when I start watching, "The Lord of the Rings," trilogy is always good (even with commercials). And I like the fact that "Return of the King" has 400 endings. They had to wrap up 10 hours of movie.
10. I'm getting more and more obsessed with Jenny Lewis and Rilo Kiley.
11. It's easier for me to recover from a lost match when I'm ready to get back home.
12. When I arrive home, the cats will first seem cold and distant. But after a while they will show me that they actually did miss me. Or at least let me think they did.
13. I think work is making me physically ill. I haven't been feeling well for weeks and I have some extra days off of work and now I'm fine. I don't know if it's the water or the air or the smell or what, but if I go in tomorrow and start feeling sick again, I'm not going to be happy.
14. It's interesting to take stock of the people I think about when I'm away. And the people I don't.
15. As much as I like to aim for people at net in doubles, when I actually hit them, I feel bad. Sorry, RJ.
16. Avoiding the 10 Freeway and instead taking the 57 or 605N to the 210W to the 134 can be a good move.
17. Sometimes saying yes when I want to say no is a better choice.
18. Always hit through the forehand. Whether it's going in or not.
19. Poolside sometimes means a view of the pool through trees and the roof of the cafe stretching out underneath your room.
20. My right thigh has a mind of its own. After years of Yoga trying to loosen it up, it finally just gave out of nowhere. I can almost do the splits.

Another Another Letter

Dear ________,
I do it too. I read a book or watch a movie or listen to a song and identify with it. It's the human condition. We want to relate to things, we want to have that connection. We want things to be about us. We're naturally selfish creatures. We view the world from our own view point, it's unique and the sum total of our genes and our parents and friends and siblings and where we lived and everything else that led us up to this point. This point right now. And it's different for everyone, but we want a commonality. We want to know we're not alone. We want to think that we're the most important thing. And we are... to ourselves.
In the future, when I write letters, you should take whatever you want to take from them. It doesn't matter if they are actually to you or to someone else, if you recognize something in them in yourself, take note. If it doesn't apply, just brush it off and say to yourself, "K's being a K today."
But here's what I'm asking you. Don't ask me to explain myself. I'm not forcing you to read this. I do it for myself. I think a lot of people come here looking for A's wonderful writing, but instead find my self-indulgence and rambling thoughts. I've been told as much. People asking "Why would you write that? Why would you put that in a public blog." It's because I can.
A while ago I slowly started making the decision to try to be more open. Back in the day people accused me of always listening to them and never sharing my own ideas and stories. I think I didn't share because I never felt I had anything important to say. I never felt like what I said had any value. I still feel like that sometimes, but I've been trying to be more open. And this is one of the ways I try. It's good for me.
Everything is fiction anyway.

The Small Room

I dream of a small, white room with a big window looking out on a large yard with maybe a couple trees. There's a small bed, maybe a dresser. I'm locked in the room with no way out. The window opens slightly, but not enough for me to get out. I'm in there for days, weeks, just thinking. There's a record player and some records, maybe some books, some paper and a pen. All I do is write, sleep, listen to music. I'm in there until I'm ready to come out, whenever that is. It's not a set time, it's a feeling.

Mood Swings

I'm used to mood swings. My own mood swings. They're fine when I have them because I'm used to them. It's like a wave you have to ride out, not knowing exactly how and when things are going to turn. But other people's mood swings are another matter. What's even more disconcerting is when you have to deal with more than one person's. It's horrible, but I guess it's some kind of karma payback for people having to deal with mine.
Today I had to deal with insults disguised as jokes, a hyper attitude, unexplained cheeriness and sometime disinterest. It was a shock to have these things thrown at me out of nowhere on what seemed to me to be just another Monday. It was scary. It is scary because I don't know how to deal with what I'm being given. I don't know what action a reaction will provoke. I don't know what word will calm things down or make everything even more uncontrollable. It's at times like this when I start to believe in the stars and planets and the pull of the moon because there were just a lot of unexplained things going on around me.
Or maybe it's all me. I have an idea in my head about a line. Once you step over, everyone changes. But it's not everyone that changed, it's your view of everyone else. And you can't go back once you step over it. But that's a theory for another time. Until then, I'm riding the wave.

Another Letter

Dear ____,
You're crazy. You're irrational. You make big issues out of little ones. You stress about the things you shouldn't stress about and don't stress about things you should stress about. You're ungrateful for the things you have. You complain when there's nothing to complain about. You let your ideas about things overtake the actual experience of doing them. I think you really just need to let go of all the pressures you put on yourself that drive you crazy. As much as you try to stay in the moment, it always seems like you're more worried about the end result.
It's time to get yourself together. Start being more decisive. Start trying to figure out what you want from life and do it. I think there's too many questions you're afraid to answer and you're always looking outside yourself for some miracle cure. I mean, does anyone get those? What makes you think you're so special? It's time you realize you're no better than anyone else. And no worse. Stop trying to be nice and be nice.
And get back to me when you get a clue.

Lucinda & Alice & B's Friend

I don't like thinking about sequences of events. Whenever I do, they start to seep into my brain and cause me anxiety. Last night, I had tickets to see Lucinda Williams at the Wiltern. B called ahead of time and found out she wasn't taking the stage until 10PM, so we delayed leaving. B took a nap and I looked through my DVDs for something that would act like training wheels for my thoughts. I picked the Disney version of "Alice in Wonderland." It's always been my favorite Disney movie and even though it's loopy and trippy, it's somehow comforting.
So, I watched it until it was time to go. Once at the Wiltern, we ran into some friend's of B's. They were really nice and we talked a while. But at one point in the conversation, my wheels started spinning off. Seems one of B's friends out of nowhere mentioned wanting to open a tea shop like a chain in New York called Alice's Tea Cup which are themed around "Alice in Wonderland."
Of all the days for me to pick that movie to watch. I haven't seen it in years probably. And for us to arrive when we did: at the exact same time B's friends were arriving. And for the conversation to turn to tea and "Alice in Wonderland." I don't believe there are coincidences, things happen for a reason, but I hate not knowing exactly what the reason is. I try to add and subtract, divide, extrapolate, factor, square, find the reciprocal, graph the answer. Like when events like that happen it's sign that there's buried treasure if you can only follow the map correctly. As of right now, I'm still searching.
In other news, Lucinda Williams was amazing. She did a good mix of old songs and new, although there were a few favorites I wish she would have done. Some of the songs transported me back to New York when I remember listening to "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road" over and over and over again. At one point she brought on Susanna Hoffs and Matthew Sweet for some harmony vocals and it was really exciting for me. I had never seen her before and now I realize I've been missing out. But at least now I can cross her off my list. I don't think B enjoyed himself that much. Still, he's been open to a lot of other types of music, so I can't fault him for not falling in love with Lucinda. Goodness knows, I can be super closed minded when it comes to music I'm not familiar with.

Blurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

The week is over. Finally. It was a blur. A series of ups and downs and zig zags and unexpected news. And now it's the weekend. My preference is for a weekend with nothing to do, but there is so much on the menu for the next couple days. I don't know how much of it I'm going to do, but it's overwhelming just to think about it and all the other things to come as the holiday season enters its full swing. Today at work I wanted to find some room where I could crawl into a corner in the dark and just sit awhile. For a moment, I contemplated crawling under my desk. Alas, that wasn't an option, so I had to space out while just sitting at my desk. I got lost in b-roll shots of New York by day, New York by night, people walking the sidewalks, traffic on the highways, butterflies on flowers, birds soaring over the ocean. I think I just needed to focus on something inconsequential, but something that would keep my attention. Otherwise, it might have been a mess with all the thoughts bouncing around in my head. I need to remind myself that I don't have to let the moments sail by if I don't want them to. I need to take a deep breath and calm down. The sun will rise again tomorrow.

Chris, Chris & Chris

I feel it coming on again. My head is spinning. I don't know if it's an obsession over my hair or something else that's causing an obsession over my hair, but I felt like I was losing it for a little while today. Today, I was listening to my iPod and a song came on that reminded me of something A and me were talking about this morning. I don't know what exactly it was, but once I hit that Rilo Kiley song, I couldn't stop listening to it. I put it on repeat and kept listening all through working out, all the way home, in the bathtub. I wanted to figure the song out. It has flashbacks, shifting points of view, and seems to be out of sequence.
While listening, I kept thinking about how much I hated my hair. I knew I needed a haircut, but didn't know what I should do with it. I was veering towards one of the answers I like in such occasions: shaving it all off. I've done it before and I was close to doing it again. I went to the barber shop without knowing what I was going to do. Short or long or the same or what. I didn't know.
I sat down and waited for my turn. What came on the speakers? A Rilo Kiley song. It was weird. I wanted to know what it all meant, but I couldn't figure it out. Then the lady at the front called me up. She told me that the guy in front of me was also Chris, so she would refer to me as Christopher. When I was called up, the guy cutting my hair introduced himself, his name was Chris. I don't know what that meant either, but I made a decision.
I do feel a little bit better. At least I did something. My hair is fine. It's not the complete answer I wanted, but it never is. Still, there's something bubbling under the surface. Maybe it's why people were asking me if I was all right before. Even B commented that one night I was looking a little out of sorts. Even today it felt like something was going to happen.

Goodbye Ice

Today was my last ice skating class of the semester. And of the year. As much as I've enjoyed the ice and especially last week's triumph, I think what I'm going to miss most is Miss ML. I remember my first class and how scared I was of her seemingly militaristic demeanor. And how I quickly realized she was funny and open and sweet and nice. I learned a lot this semester and it's all because she's a great teacher. The teachers at the rink change from semester to semester, so who knows when I'll have her to teach me again. It's a little upsetting. I looked forward to being on the ice, but I think I enjoyed her teaching more. I guess I'll just have to move on. It's kind of sad.
It's always sad to let go of the people who are a good influence in my life. I can't believe how much I miss Professor TB and regret not getting to know him better. How many teachers would let you take their class over again when you're not even in school anymore? I used to have to borrow my friends' student IDs to sneak into Bobst Library for his class. I still have all his emails printed and saved and they are still full of advice that I continue to learn from. It's a lesson in the negative influence of my isolationism. When people are there for you to learn from, you should do your best to actually learn from them and not hide away in a cave with only the voices in your head for advice.

Vegi Date

She looks under every chair,
in every organic produce aisle,
on every website designed to find love.
But he is nowhere to be found.
He drives a bus through Alaska
with tourists from the Mainland
and leaves his belongings at rest stops
and roadside Diners.
He builds houses out of clothes,
and sleeps in a co-op
and disappears from life for days on end.
But when he calls she answers
and runs to his side.
They eat veggie sausage and home grown corn
and he stays under the covers
longer than any man ever could.
And for a moment she's happy
and thinks he could be the one.
Until she wakes and rolls over
and finds an empty bed.

Are You All Right?

Too often in the past few days I've gotten people asking: "Are you all right?"
First it was my mom on the phone.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"I'm fine. Why?" I responded.
"I don't know. You just sound kind of down."
Then it was my sister, also on the phone.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"Yeah. I'm fine. Why?"
"You sound kind of down. And mom mentioned she thought you sounded like something was going on."
Then it was EG at work.
"Are you all right," he asked.
"Yes. Why?"
"You look like you need to eat something."
Then it was A at work.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"Yeah. I'm fine. Why?"
"Something seemed like it was the matter," she explained.
I wonder what it is. Is it something I'm repressing? When that many people ask you if something is wrong and you don't consciously feel like something is wrong, then you wonder what could be wrong. I don't think it' some random occurrence because it keeps happening. Part of me wonders if it's my shaggy, uncombed hair. It's so out of control and I don't bother to do anything with it, so maybe it makes me look frantic and out of sorts. But that wouldn't explain why people on the phone are asking me if I'm all right. But maybe I'm seeing myself as frantic and it's coming out in my speech. I don't know. I guess I'll have to wait and see.

Making Sense

Today when I arrived at work, the clock outside the bathrooms was stuck on 7:00. The little hands were clicking and trying to move, but it was just stuck. It made sense.
Before leaving the apartment this morning, I was dragging and not wanting to go. I got up fine, although groggy, but there were other factors. My hair was a mess, and I couldn't bring myself to wet it and comb it. The thought of even doing it was overwhelming. Then there were my clothes. I looked through my closet and couldn't find anything I wanted to wear. I finally just grabbed something and put it on, which I ended up changing the moment before I left. My body felt disproportional in everything. I stumbled into work forgetting my key card for the door and my gym card. I guess it's was just one of those mornings.
I just passed by the clock outside the bathrooms. It's set to the right time and seems to be working fine now, although the front of the clock is cracked and broken. It makes sense.

Under Where?

I don't know where my fascination with underwear comes from. It's not like that many people see it, but it's important to me. Lately I have had no interest in buying much of anything, especially clothes, but underwear seems to be the one exception. I always have the impulse to buy every different kind of pair I see, but I know better. I rate all my pairs from favorite to least favorite and after doing laundry, I try to wear my least favorite pairs first so towards the end of my laundry cycle I only have good pairs left. There are exceptions to that. If it's going to be a special day or I want some good luck, I have to pull out a lucky pair. I find the lucky pairs aren't actually lucky, but I just like them better.
I don't know where this is coming from. I've always had a fascination with underwear. Even when I was younger, I remember asking my mom for some colorful pairs of bikini briefs, so I could have more than white briefs. My preference lately is boxer briefs and I can't believe I actually went through a period where I wore boxers, which all of a sudden I couldn't stand one day. I just threw them away rather than force myself to wear them at the beginning of the cycle.
I think part of it comes from an intense desire to be one of the perfect bodies on the underwear box. Like if I get the perfect pair, my body will suddenly be in shape and I'll look stunning for once. I guess I'm still waiting for that magic pair.

No H8!

Today, as fires were ranging all around Los Angeles, I got in my car and drove... to get a haircut. But there was a 45 minute wait and I left. So I drove... to get my car smog tested. There was a long wait too, but I needed it done and decided to wait. After I was done, I drove to the Metro station and got on to head downtown to the one of the rallies in protest to Proposition 8. It was a mix of emotions because it's really the first rally I've been to and I didn't know if I should go, but the closer it got to starting, the more it became something I had to do. I knew I had made the right decision as I drove to the parking lot and saw groups with signs and taking pictures. The metro was crowded and I was impressed at just how many people were making a stand.
Once I got downtown, things were pretty overwhelming. So many people, so many voices. It was weird walking down the steps towards the mass protest and seeing pro-Prop 8 people demonstrating as well. Seeing people on TV protesting against the things I believe in is one thing, but seeing them across from you with signs that read "HOMO SEX IS A THREAT TO NATIONAL SECURITY" is another. It was scary and saddening, but I kept walking. Once in the crowd, I had to fight not to cry. I was still overwhelmed. And proud. It was an amazing experience to be among people united for a cause, it felt like community. It felt like understanding. It felt like just being there was being part of something amazing. It was taking a stand and doing something little that seemed like it counted. Everyone was smiling and cheering. And even though some people maybe had signs that I didn't agree with, it didn't matter, because we were all there united in love. It actually made me feel the way I wish going to church would more often. It was a bunch of people loving their neighbors and trying to do good.
While standing in the crowd, I actually ran in to someone I haven't seen in probably more than 10 years, TS. He looked and acted the same and it was funny coming face to face with someone who knew and teased me as a closeted college student in New York City. He was always someone I admired: fearless, vocal, funny, smart and it was great to follow him around and meet new people, everyone amazing and interesting and united in a common purpose.
There were so many times where I just felt overcome with emotions. One was when a bunch of protesters stopped over a freeway overpass and cars honked in solidarity from beneath, while other people gave thumbs down. Another time was sending videos of the protest to my parents. I talked to my mom who was happy for me but (of course) just wanted me to be careful. My dad called and said, "That's how you make change happen." He was happy that I was doing something more than watching it on TV and it was amazing feeling hearing that both my parents were behind me.
I had to leave to get home to to go to church and the sermon was about doing whatever you can with what you have. It was a weird feeling, being in a church that a lot of times makes me feel like who I am is wrong and like I don't belong, a church in which there were a lot of people vocal in support of Proposition 8. At this point, I'm still struggling living in both worlds. But I think just like being downtown and united with people who I might share other differences with, I'm can't judge a group of people because of the acts of a few.
It was an amazing day for me. I didn't expect it to be, but it was really remarkable removing myself from a world that revolves around me and my insecurities and entering one that was about something bigger, something beyond myself.

Fryday

I'm so glad it's the weekend. Lately I feel like I can't catch my breath. The days drag and flash at the same time. I think the air at work is filled with anticipation: there are so many changes coming soon, but it's not like we can focus on them or prepare because there's other things to be doing. A and I went out for pizza this afternoon and we stopped by my apartment on the way back to work. It was so hard getting motivated to get back to work. The cats were walking around, Oprah was on TV, there were a bunch of things that needed picking up. I just feel really distracted lately, like there are too many things bouncing around in my head and it's manic. Sometimes when I talk lately, it's an effort to get the words out. I'm trying to live in the present, but it feels like there's no end in sight. I'm in a box. It's a box that I made and I'm not stuck there, but it's where I've chosen to be and I guess I have to just stay here until it's time to get out.

Triumph on the Ice

Tonight was the second to last class for my Gamma/Delta ice skating and that meant it was the day for testing. I was nervous, especially after having faltered badly during midterms. The Gamma/Delta class is weird because it's two classes. Two of us (including me) are in Gamma, the other two are ahead of us in Delta. There were a lot of things to go through and Miss ML wasn't wasting any time in getting us ready to go. We did one thing after another. I was really nervous, but ML kept reminding me to take it slow. She said she knew I had speed, but she was more interested in control at this point. I told her I tend to have the same problem in tennis: trying to hit the ball hard instead of placing it. I was pretty nervous but tried to just do my thing. Unlike tennis, where tentativeness ruins my game, taking things slow seem to be beneficial. We finished up and the class was over. ML took us aside and went through everyone. It seemed like my fellow Gamma was moving to Delta, and my fellow Deltas had some issues and were staying Deltas. I, on the other hand, was told that I could skip Delta and go directly to Freestyle 1!
It's just ice skating, but I might have well be crowned Miss America. I was beaming inside and trying to play it cool, especially after having been able to recover after I'd done so badly at midterms. ML even told me I had potential. I think part of what helped me was what she had noticed last week: it may not be pretty, but I'm willing to try whatever it is she tells me to do. Part of me still doesn't believe it. Part of me wonders if I was lucky, or that ML was just being nice. But whatever, I know that I've gotten a lot better over the past few months and it's so exciting to have it noticed.

Can I Work In?

No, I don't want you to work in.
I hate the gym. I don't mind when I'm done at the gym, but I'm not a fan of going. I try to avoid busy periods and never understand when people ask to work in when there's a whole gym full of other equipment. Do you really need this particular bench? Is this the only place you can work your chest? It's so annoying, usually I just get up and go somewhere else. Maybe it's my social awkwardness or wanting to be alone, but it makes things that much worse when people actually talk to me. I guess sometimes the headphones aren't a strong enough signal that I'm not listening.
I guess it's not that good of an outlook to have, but just leave me alone!

Force It Out

I have been so upset at the state of my affairs...the state of the economy...the discrimination that is ever present in the state I reside...the impending 1 year anniversary that hangs over my head like a cloud of doom, that I haven't been able to write. I have little desire to scratch the surface of my bitterness, my anger, my fear, my grief. I feel like if I start writing or talking or yelling or crying, I may never stop. So instead, I stuff my emotions to a place so deep inside me that they can never be found. They may surface like small lava bubbles at unexpected times. At a movie theater when I slouch in the darkness sucked into someones life for 120 minutes, on the freeway when my radio is broken and I am forced to sit in complete silence on the 134 with only my thoughts to listen to, when I pass a retired man on the street and he stands with closed eyes and work gloves in his pocket holding a sign that reads Please Help: Need Work To Pay My Bills.
"Force it out," K instructs from the desk next to mine. So I will. None of this is coming naturally. It doesn't pour from my veins the way it used to...my muse has vanished. I thought I saw her walking on the street in Hollywood the other night, but I quickly realized she was just a figment of my imagination. A girl I invented to get lost in, to fulfill my narcissistic desire to fill the page with my own thoughts. I know now that she is forever gone and my life is forever changed, so for now I will do what K said...I will force it out.

Guilt (Or Innocence)

My opinion is too easily swayed. I'll be reading an article or listening to someone and go back and forth from one side of an issue to another. It seems like a lot of people I know resolutely believe things--they just know them. I'm always happy when I feel I just know something, but it's hard to trust in things. It's not like I've had tons of bad experiences with things changing, but something in me just doesn't trust that things will work out like they're supposed to. Maybe it's self-sabotage, maybe it's lack of self-belief, maybe it's over-identifying with everything and everyone. Whatever it is, I find myself constantly torn.
Lately I've been thinking about someone I know who has to deal with things far worse than I've ever had to deal with. I find myself wondering what I would do in her place. Is it easier to trust or just to believe the worst? Is having faith easier than not having it? I think about her life and can't really believe it is what it is. It's so far removed and foreign compared to mine and I wonder what goes through her head day after day. I think people end up surviving one way or the other. Ideally, we want things to go smoothly, but when they don't, most times we figure out how to get through. For whatever reason, my thoughts are going out to her today.

Consideration

It's hard to not be angry when people, people who I hope would know better, do things that they know will drive me crazy. Of course, some things I can take with a grain of salt, but others are much more dastardly. It makes me wonder about where people's heads are at, how much they care, how much things become a power play. I do realize that people need to put themselves first, but it's a little sad when someone I value can't have a little consideration. I think it gets easy to stop trying. I think with most people I tend not to care what they do, but there are a handful who matter. So it makes me extremly disappointed when they don't see how their actions affect others.

Organization

I don't consider myself very organized. I wouldn't guess that B does either. The apartment is usually in disarray until I get in a mood to make it not so. Documents and pictures and songs pile up on my computer desktop until I can't take it anymore. But there's something in me that loves organization. Today at the gym two of the workers were arranging the free-weights, putting them back where they belonged. They were having trouble spotting missing and misplaced weights, so I decided to pipe in. I got some weird satisfaction from helping out put things right. It really upsets me when things are all over the place. At the gym I usually spend a lot of time just wondering why people can't put things back where they got them. Today things were right, if only for a little bit. I wonder why they can't stay that way.

Laugh

Laughter should bring joy, but it's piercing my ears. It's actually making them bleed. I know I'm not alone. It doesn't seem sincere, it's trying too hard. What must that laughter sound like out of these walls. I wouldn't want to know. Maybe we all could have heard it once, but instead we got a vacant stare and an uneaten lunch. There are things that don't seem to add up. The swings are wild and unpredictable. One day the hat is down and the face is sad, the next the face is grinning and running around like a wild child. Freedom can't come soon enough.

Continue Ice

I'm doing better at ice skating lately. Today my teacher pulled me aside and looked at me directly: "I'll say one thing, no matter what it is, you just throw yourself out there and do it. It may not be pretty, but you're not scared to try."
It was a really nice compliment, even if I do try to unsuccessfully to look pretty. It's weird that in tennis and ice skating, I'll try anything. In life it's a lot different. I barely leave the house. I wonder what the difference is. I want to be consistently fearless. It's too easy to back down, to say no, to not put myself out there. Maybe I'm just scared of finding out the truth behind things.

At Least...

I don't want to explain it.
I don't know why it's still there.
I didn't even think it was still there,
But there's a tear in my eye.
I don't want it to be there.
It all exists in my mind--
My imagination.

I look outside because I don't want to look inside.
There was a notice in the mail.
I can't keep my bike in the garage.
Where is it supposed to go?

Kirsten Dunst is in North Dakota making a documentary.
Miley Cyrus keeps on singing.

People are moving to wine country.
(His brother has the same birthday as me.)
I guess it beats Chicago,
Even if it's not "Brothers & Sisters."

It's been raining the last few days.
The weather is suddenly colder.

I rarely trust promises--
Except yours.
You keep me safe.

Why I'm Bitter: An Essay

I don't like admitting to bitterness. I hate admitting to negative emotions, but I have them often. Bitterness. Jealousy. Rage. Hatred. Anger. Envy. Yes, all the bad ones are in there and sometimes they escape. I can't say the reasons are always viable, but they do occur whether I want them to or not.
My therapist told me it's always a struggle with negative emotions. And the trick is realizing that you can have them while having positive ones too. You can love someone and hate someone at the same time. You can be happy for someone and also be jealous of them. You can come to terms with things and still have that tinge of bitterness for the way things turn out.
I'm bitter because today I got really judgmental and angry and I know I have no right to. I hate it when things just don't make sense to me. When the world seems to spin in ways that I can't even begin to explain. This person thinks this and does this and this happens to him or her, while this person is struggling to do this and that and then this happens. Yes it's all vague, it has to be. I wonder, is that person so much smarter? So much more well-rounded? Do we always end up getting what we deserve? It's not my place to compare people, but sometimes things seem so jagged and uneven, it can't help but send my mind reeling.
I hope somewhere there's some diagram and things make sense. That there's some blueprint laid out neatly with bricks on every corner so the wind doesn't blow it around. I'm constantly reminding myself and others that sometimes things take years to play out. Many times little moments are so much more significant than you thought they were, but it takes time to realize that. I guess I just have to force myself to believe that things make sense.

Tennis with Friends

I have to admit, lately I've been over tennis. But today B got a call from some friends who wanted to hit and I agreed to go. It was surprisingly nice. No matches, no points, just hitting back and forth and good shots and bad shots and no pressure. What a difference the situation makes, but it was a good reminder that it doesn't always have to be pressure and nerves, there's another part of the game that I tend to ignore and it's the part that just involves having fun. I think my work now is to rediscover the fun part: not freaking out when I miss, not getting angry when I'm playing badly, not letting my nerves get the best of me, and not judging myself when I do let my nerves get the best of me. It's hard to be nice to myself, but hopefully I can make more of an effort.

Fall Awakening

Just got back from seeing "Spring Awakening" and it was still amazing. Maybe not as good as when I saw it last year, but still the best show I've seen. It's hard to judge theater by the same standards as everything else. With a movie or a TV show, I can just put the DVD in and watch it as many times as I want to. But with theater, those moments are the only ones like that on this earth. The experience can't be relived or duplicated. I really stand in awe of what people are able to do up there. Not just the actors, but the writers and directors and band and stage crew. It's a really unique experience and a really remarkable thing. I didn't nearly take enough advantage of living in New York in the theater department. There are so many shows I wish I'd seen, but there are no re-dos, whatever "30 Rock" would have you believe. But it seems with B in the picture, I've at least been allowed the opportunity to change my behavior and see what's out there.
B has been the best thing that has ever happened to me and I'm so mean to him! I wonder why that is. I'm nicer to people on the street or even people I don't like that much. It's horrible, but it's also the ultimate compliment. You only let the people you really love see every single side of you. You can only let it all loose around people who you trust--people who you trust not to run away or judge or retaliate. Hopefully I'm not all bad, but sometimes I wonder.

Jenny Lewis at the Orpheum

I called in sick to work today, and I am sick. And tired.
Last night B and me went to go see Jenny Lewis at the Orpheum Theatre in downtown Los Angeles. The ticket said that doors opened at 8PM. I knew she had two opening acts and thought if we left at 8PM, we might miss most of them and be there right in time for Jenny to do her thing. Well, we got there quickly, parked, went in, and waited and waited and waited and waited. The first opening act went on, then the second. By the time Jenny Lewis appeared on stage, it was 11:15PM. I really felt my age. I was angry. I wanted to be home in bed. How could she wait so long to start singing? I don't think I've ever been to a concert that started so late. I remember once going to see the Spice Girls and I got there really late on accident. They didn't have an opening act, but the concert was severely delayed due to technical difficulties. I'll never forget that one 12 year old girl a few rows behind me screaming "Where's Ginger?" with so much anger, I was shocked. Where is that girl now? Anyway, even that concert wasn't anywhere near as late starting as this one. And at least the Spice Girls had a malfunctioning spaceship to explain their tardiness on.
Well, I did start feeling better once Jenny opened up her mouth. She was great. Her band was great. But some of the crowd were scary. People kept screaming that they loved her. One guy interrupted her solo girl-and-guitar opener "Rabbit Fur Coat" with a yell of "You're a female Bob Dylan," which made her pause for a moment and smile. There were random guys trashing around to her songs. I admit, I'm one of those lame people who doesn't like to stand at concerts, I just want to sit and enjoy the music. I try not to judge those who do enjoy music in different ways, but when people are waving themselves around like they're having epileptic seizures, it's pretty distracting for a large part of the crowd.
Anger tinged with enjoyment. Bitterness mixed with happiness. Thinking it was partly worth it and partly not. All I know is after yesterday and today, I need a good night's sleep.

Jump Start

I don't know where she is. She's out there. She waits for AAA. It's overcast and breezy outside. I guess it's better that than the boiling heat of the last few days.
I wonder what she feels like. Does she feel stuck? Trapped? I doubt it. She's probably gabbing away on her phone, texting away to her friends about her random situation.
Of all the days for it to happen... why today? In my mind it's symbolic of something. Every moment in your life represents your life as a whole. She was just talking about buying vitamins.
Is she run down? Is the world telling her she needs some source of energy? She was smelling toast and then said the smell was like burning wires. It's all about electricity and energy. She was struggling to push through earlier. Not that she couldn't do it, she just didn't want to for some reason.
Her hair is lighter, but her load must be heavier. Is there some weight that's slowing her down, zapping her of her strength? I'm not sure what's going on, but if there's a blackout, I hope she figures out a way to turn the lights back on.

Catching Up with KB

Today I was lucky enough to have lunch with my old East Village roommate, KB (she's actually KH, but I'll still refer to her as KB) and her beautiful baby, AH. It was a very nice time, although driving there I was forced to wonder why everyone was on the freeway and not at work. I know I worked a night job here in Los Angeles for 7 years and had my days free, but I thought I was in the minority.
Anyway, we met at Real Food Daily and it was a really nice time. We figured it had probably been about 8 years since we've seen each other. (The last time being dinner in Santa Monica where we saw Marcia Cross pre-"Desperate Housewives!" It's weird how much you don't see friends in Los Angeles, you just assume they'll be there until they're not.
Seeing KB reminded me that I'm lucky enough to have a handful of people in my life that are just truly amazing. With those people, it doesn't matter how many years have gone by, but when I see them, there's nothing weird of awkward (at least for me) and I'm able to just pick up where I left off. Yes, I do realize it's a bummer because KB is really incredible and I miss her being around, but still, she's one of those people I'm just happy to know.
Just being around KB brought back a lot of memories. I remember moving out of the dorm and then moving from an apartment on 4th Street and Bowery to another on 12th Street and Avenue A, then wanting to leave that apartment and KB was the one who kept me from being out on the street. I just carried my stuff by hand from one building to the other.
KB had to deal with the fact that sometimes I turn ice cold and silent for days on end, but she was always there to talk whenever I finally did say something. We lived on 11th Street and Avenue B back when there weren't cafes and yuppies, there were drug dealers and trash.
On Mondays, we would have "Family Values Night," which would consist of "7th Heaven" and "Ally McBeal." Katharine would usually order pizza and I would eat cheese sandwiches, sometimes pasta. I remember how thrilled we were when Lara Flynn Boyle made a cameo on "Ally McBeal" as her character from "The Practice." I remember how much we loved those WB commercials where they combined the starts from all their shows.
I remember the night "Titanic" opened. KB came back with a friend in shock at how much she loved the movie. "You have to see it," she told me. "OK, I will," I said. "No, you have to see it now," she said and she got on the telephone to get tickets and we were on our way a few minutes later.
There are very few people on the earth who've had to put up being in the same space as me for extended periods of time. I intentionally avoid spending large amounts of time with people because I know I'm a handful and can get on people's nerves pretty quickly. Those who do make it through the K-gauntlet unscathed deserve a medal. KB endured and I'm a better person for it. She was always gracious, always caring, always quick to laugh. Getting to spend time with her today, I realized she still all those things and more. She's also an incredible mother.
Yes, little AH was amazing. A pure sweetheart with a contagious smile and a sweet and surprisingly prescient demeanor. He seemed more interested in throwing his stuffed monkey and pumpkin on the floor than eating. When he did eat, the food ended up everywhere and the face he made as KB gave him some tofu was pretty delightful, as was the carrot strand that somehow glued itself to his lower lip. As he and his mom headed off in their rented yellow Mustang I thought about how lucky they both were to have each other, and how lucky I was to get to spend time with them this afternoon... and the world made a little more sense.