Echo

the well

i thought about the married men i’d known over the years who were always toeing the line, their wedding bands mysteriously absent, sometimes leaning in too closely to whisper in my ear at late night industry parties featuring primal rhythms and open bars, subtly enhaling my scent so dangerously close to where a woman’s jaw, neck and ear meet to form the perfect storm.

some were more accustomed to the dark than others…you could tell by the shine of their eyes they were used to getting their way. and as with honey, no matter what corner, they could always find me.

that dark, mysterious, complicatedly uncomplicated place where a man goes to stand at the edge of a moonlit well as his wife and children sleep soundly at home, that place where the point of no return is a lot closer than he arrogantly believes… that place. that edge of oblivion. that place is where i live. and i sit quietly, waiting.

i see them on moonlit nights, looking for a game to test their might but not really believing what they wager can truly be lost. they come as shadows, in pompous suits and damp, naked fingers, asking for directions when they know exactly where they are.

i look them in the eye
and a grin begins to crawl
creeping through the room like a dangerous seduction

as she leans in

her cool fingers draped dangerously on his arm

(the last stop) whispering,

are you sure this is where you want to be?

as something inside flickers its tongue over the razor’s edge glinting shadows within a darkness.

Question for the Day:

Do you ever end the day and have this gut feeling that you lied about something, but you can’t figure out what it was?

I think creativity is like fishing things out of the ocean. Some people have submarines and can decide what they bring up and bring it up in its entirity. Me, I’m out in a little rowboat with my fishing net, picking up random things like what I wrote below.

My New Band: Warren & the Proverbial Pussy

It’s a conceptual band. We lead audiences into a large empty room with stark walls, filled with Ikea furniture. On the amoeba-shaped coffee table, sits this:

Once the room is filled with audience members, we assign half the people as prison guards and half the people as prisoners, giving the guards batons and tasers. Then we quickly run out of the room and bolt the doors before anyone can react. Once we are sure the people pounding on the doors understand there is no mistake, through the loudspeaker, we play a sound loop of indigestion as heard through a stethoscope at a quarter of the normal rpm. 10 minutes later, we would start releasing a perfume specially formulated by reknowned Italian perfumer, Sebastiano Biscotti Piscopo, creater of lust! and PERV. The perfume combines various floral, citrus and mammal essences to mimic an olfactory experience akin to the cool dampness between a Catholic schoolgirl’s thighs shortly after a hot, post gym-class shower, and that ghostly aura of an orchid pistil the moment one suddenly realizes what the flower in a Georgia O’Keefe painting represents. Our German band consultant/head chemical scientist Johanne Von Motke assured us, that the smell in conjunction with the sound experience will split the listener into a heaven/hell experience with both pleasure and pain overcoming their senses simultaneously for a cathartic experience. Then, as social constructs break down and the prison guards abuse the prisoners and prisoners scream for God and their mothers to open the door, a rebellion eventually will form as characteristic of humans under extreme duress within oppression. That rebellion, fighting both the psychological sadism of man, the siren smell of sweet perfume and the maddening sounds of a man’s flaming esophagus, will discover somehow, through the manipulation of their environment, that if the toy on the amoeba-shaped coffee table were played until “the cow says moo,” they will suddenly experience a moment of divine clarity, realizing that I am Warren and they, the audience, are the Proverbial Pussy, and yes, I have just had sex with all of them. Then a door will magically open towards a corridor with the EXIT signs clearly marked.

So far, we’ve only been booked at small venues in Amsterdam, Berlin and Orlando.

energy. i’m learning about it. but i still don’t understand it. maybe i’m just unhappy sometimes because i want to use it in the way i want to use it, and the universe knows the best way for me is to use it in another way. i’ve never been good with authority, but i’m not hopeless. i recognize the need for a mentor, and i recognize how important it is to be careful of who you trust with your most powerful side.

what is it?

when i thought life coaching might be a good compromise since i hate the hypocrisy and pathologizing within the psychotherapy industry, they told us we needed to write a short description of what we are, so we could attract the right clients. maybe that idea would work here.

so what is it.

1. when i meet someone who is not open, i can feel out their energy, find a positive energy they can relate to that they own and reflect it back to them. when they see this positive energy that’s familiar yet seemingly coming from someone else, they recognize it, embody it and it lifts them, even though i’d actually pulled it from inside them. basically, it’s like taking a positive portion of someone, and having them incorporate it from the outside in until that portion becomes the majority of themselves. sometimes i can mimic people’s energy and experience a different flavor to life. i’m also very good at mirroring when i need it.

2. people will tell you everything they want you to know about them. most people wear their traumas on their sleeves and you’ll recognize them if you know where to look. i can grab onto a trauma and pull it out, mentally holding it like a flopping fish while getting people to understand it, understand their relationship to it, and circle it emotionally, mentally, psychologically until it loses its strength and they can reincorporate it back within themselves as something benign. not everyone finds this very comfortable and most freak out. but the ones who are brave enough to let things go usually report back that it changed their lives.

3. late night channeling. sometimes i start talking and then it doesn’t come from me anymore. and i’m dropping knowledge on people and it affects them. meanwhile, i learn things myself as i listen to myself talk so every time i take the risk to do this, i benefit in terms of knowledge as well. last year i asked the universe for a mentor, and this phenomenon showed up. it’s like i can only learn as long as i can find a study buddy. which now that i think about it, i never did as a student so now’s as good time as any to reach out.

the hard thing for me right now is that i don’t know when these things will happen so sometimes i feel like i have no control, like i’m not actually working towards something or refining an ability. but then i recognize, as these things occur and i learn, i’m also slowly building understanding of something bigger.

i’ve just been telling myself to be patient, and to have trust. i don’t have to trust other humans if they’re not worthy of trust or if they’re not in a place where they can understand me, but i have to trust the universe. and i have to trust myself to stay sharp and recognize when it’s asking something of me. sometimes it gets so fucking lonely in here i start losing faith that there’s a me outside of the work I do and the reflections I take on, but then the universe sends me a person who even if for a small window of time/space, can see and hear the real me. the rule is, I never get to hang on to it, but for that simple token of faith, that experience of understanding, the symbolism of the gift that renews my belief that I do exist and I’ve got to keep going because there are others out there also working positively, I am very grateful for it.

but sometimes i lay awake and ask myself, why did you choose such a lonely life path.

you can have all this happiness and good feeling to give to people, but worry about the appropriateness of the gift.

i could never live in the suburbs.

people define their lives in different ways. as fathers. as sons. as daughters. as mothers. as affable clowns, as centers of knowledge, as the sparkplugs that bring people together. as dedicated workers, as brooding others. they all choose one dominant reality to exert their energy in no matter how many identities they carry.

i’m learning that sometimes people won’t see you at the same frequency you see them because they can’t. acknowledging one reality will often challenge the existence of another, and sometimes, people have built too much upon a foundation and they can’t risk upsetting that reality.

sometimes, i don’t know what to do with myself.

i promised people magic. and i’ve shown it to them, but only alone, only in the deepest of night. often, i disappear right after as i can not afford these realities to be challenged by the light of day. should i find it in me to do what i can do in the light of day? then i will really know what i’m capable of. but then, there will be no hiding from other people. obama has magic. i have a feeling if he’s in office, more people who have unique capabilities to create change will come out of the woodwork. i can definitely feel the energy stirring under the surface.

*****
yesterday. lacking direction. family wanted to come down and visit but at the last minute, i told them not to. i’m too vulnerable right now to let them get their hooks into me. i want to maintain boundaries, but if the right choice is to move closer to them, then that is the choice. but not now. right now i’m free.

got sad yesterday when i think, i would be getting off work about now. drive aimlessly but end up on the 10 towards the beach. good idea. i park my car and bring my bag to find a cafe to read, but i change my mind. i put everything away and went into exploration mode (iPod, car key, id/credit card wrapped in a $20 bill). set the playlist to a life less ordinary soundtrack (been in my iPod for years…never listened to it), and head out.

exploration mode = wipe my mind blank until i am receptor for observations and explore an area like a tourist. usually i find something of existential value (person, place, object, symbol) to be used later.

venice beach is my favorite for this. with the setting sun behind me, i encounter a group of boys playing football. the quarterback looked my age but the kids ranged various ages from 7 to about 15. i stopped and watched for a bit. i bet the quarterback is a natural big brother type. i marked him with a leo sign.

passed a senior home with one lone old man sitting in a chair watching the sunset from a window in the empty lounge. it was bittersweet tragic and for a split second, i felt like i’d been punched in the face and teleported to miami. looked at the sunset to reorient myself, kept walking. it wouldn’t be bad to end your life in a place where you can see the sun set over the ocean.

i have this ability. people can’t see me when i don’t want them to see me. like even if they notice me, they won’t care enough to remember me, an event lost by indifferent hands of memory. the way you do it is you output this absolute belief that you don’t believe these people around you are real. that they’re as much a part of your subjective experience as trees in a forest. they are background talent in your movie. it’s like by removing them from your reality, you turn yourself into background in theirs. it’s how i sneak up on people as a practical joke. but what will happen is you start to randomly notice other people who can see you. and these are the people who have something interesting to say to you and help you along like those helpful villagers in morrowind (okay, i’m not a moron but i just couldn’t get into that game). so if you really focus yourself, you can have a level of control over who sees you and who doesn’t and therefore, who approaches you and who doesn’t.

those who do notice, we’ll see each other and smile, maybe wink. sometimes it’s a double take and then a polite nod, but today, they let me go on my way. i didn’t really feel like talking.

i read something that made me want to focus on symbols today rather than people. so i walked and scrutinized graffiti and structures until i found this sculpture that looked oddly like a symbol i had just seen in a book. it felt like this was the one. it pointed towards the sunset so i decided i would sit right under it and watch the sunset. as i stood under it, i followed the line drawn from the sunset, through the sculpture and turned to see it ended at a tattoo store. i’ll get a tattoo when i find my personal symbol. but then i realized, right next to the store right behind the sculpture…was the place where that german guy and i had sat and watched the sky lighten as we discussed our thoughts and paths with open candor until 8 in the morning. that same night that i had realized that we were meeting just as he was experiencing an ending and i was experiencing a new beginning, on a day that doesn’t exist (2/29). in fact, it had been so mystical, like sitting in a portal in which despite language barriers, we were able to convey every idea, color and texture in our heads, that he even wrote me an email afterwards commenting on the strangeness and magic of the night. i couldn’t believe i hadn’t realized this was the same sculpture from that night.

watched the sun set. walked back down the strand in the dark like a ghost.

it was a good day.

a stranger said, you’re a person someone meets and the next morning, he’s not sure if he’s met a person or a ghost.

another said, you’re the kind of woman when a man looks back and realizes he’s made some wrong choices in life, he’ll always remember and wonder about you.

and yesterday, you said nothing. yet i heard your echoes loudly.

what are words but ephemeral meaningness, when meaning can only be momentarily grasped like running water over fingertips?

what are you to me, but a fleeting moment? a hand thrusting out in a world passing so quickly, sometimes goodbye precedes hello.

but in some quiet moments, when a person stops trying to keep up with the world and stands still for a powerful moment, he’ll find someone who is also there. this person can see him, feel his rhythm, find his pulse outside the blur. and more than anything, this person believes he exists.

within him comes the sun–noble, proud, a provider by sheer expansion of will. and within her is the moon. that deep, still pool of protective energy promising safe harbor and replenishment. the good father and the mother. what each of us uniquely lacked. and from these symbols created within you, you find the power to heal.

until you find the meaning you seek, you shake every hand.

brian and i had a bonding day that we haven’t had anything like since we first moved in together.

i had woken up in the middle of the night, still caught amidst a dream. i sat up in bed and i could see my alarm clock read 2:16. but i could see a second alarm clock sitting next to it reading 3:00. i kept staring at the two clocks knowing one of them wasn’t real. I laid down again but was woken up a few minutes later. the clock on the left said 2:16 and the clock on the right said 3:00. i kept staring at it but i couldn’t make the clocks change time, yet i was awake. i could feel the sheets, i could feel the air, i could feel clothes, my legs, everything. it was a blip in reality. i went back to sleep. woke up, the sun was out. it felt like 10-11. i looked at the clock. it said 2:16. 2:16 again? weird. i stared at it for a long time. confused. i got up and brian was home. the power went out at work so no one can work. we have a snow day, he said. i think the power went out here, i said. 2 hours and 16 minutes ago. what time is it? he looked at his cellphone. 9:20. which would put the outage at 7:04. that time has no significance to me, except it equals 11 which is my birthday minus the year added up. but 2:16 = 9. my soul number.

what are you doing, i asked him. we phonetree-d everyone and we’re meeting at casa del mar at 10:45. we should go hiking, i said. he thought about it. well we could go after my meeting. i need to pick up my car, i said. but i can ride down to your meeting with you, hang out and you can drop me off to get my car.

we hit santa monica and he went into the hotel while i walked until i found a little cafe. hung out on the patio, had a proscuitto and egg panini with a honey cappuccino. watched desperate housewives on my portable dvd player. every waiter came by to ask if it was a laptop. then read from reservation road. i need to write.

the place started filling up for lunch and i didn’t want to take up one of the tables so i headed back to casa del mar. it has an amazing lounge so i loafed on a plush couch and caught up with rie. she’s lonely right now, just like me. but we each have found ourselves in different echoes of loneliness. different worlds. we offer each other support and sincere wishes.

brian’s meeting end and we drop by the adidas store. i don’t really want to buy anything because i have to be careful with money, but since brian gets a major discount, i decided to get a pair of socks because they looked high tech. i’m secretly very excited about them.

we changed and headed out to runyon. fought traffic for 45 minutes, arriving only to realize we both have to pee. we tough it out. my body may look athletic, but i promise you, it’s not functional. i was ready to turn around halfway up the street leading into the trail. it was nice. talking with brian, joking around. in some ways, we both really get each other even though sometimes we compete. we notice hot guys at the same time and can psychically comment about them as we walk by. and we get each others jokes. saw michael rappaport. neither of us acknowledged it until we were sure he was at least half a mile away. fat michael rappaport, brian says. totally. with a big bald spot, i say. i think that guy he was with was his trainer, brian says. i would be pissed off at mike if i were his trainer. if you tell people you train michael rappaport and he shows up looking like that, you’re obviously a bad trainer, i say. we snicker. walk on.

i tell brian that one time i had to pee really badly but there wasn’t a bathroom around, so i’d joked to my mom that i was going to pee on her head. i’d never seen her so offended and mad. i mean, i joke that she’s my lesbian mom all the time and she takes that in stride, but she went nuts over this. so i’ve learned never to tell my mom that i’m gonna pee on her head.

we pass many other actors who we almost recognize. we saw a hot shirtless guy jog up just as a hot sports-bra’d woman with a slick 4 pack jogged down. simultaneously suffered sensory overload.

the sky was beautiful. the view was beautiful with just a sliver of fog creeping through the edges. i told brian about the guy at the houston’s counter i was eating at on monday who had kept smiling at me, even though he was there with a woman. when his table was ready, he got up and waited for me to make eye contact so he could wave and say bye. i knew he really wanted to because i was purposely not making eye contact. at first i thought the woman was his girlfriend but he seemed to want to make it very clear that it wasn’t like that. i wasn’t sure if that was an opening. i also mentioned to the bartender that i was going to see a movie and he said he wished he could go with me. he said tonight he had to work late, but normally he gets out early enough to see a movie. he left to pour drinks then came back and said again that he wished he could go with me. then he said, “maybe next time.” i just smiled, felt suddenly shy, and occupied myself with some task until he walked away. i’m not a deal closer, and brian knows it. but why am i expected to be? it’s the guys that are passive around me. like that guy who sat in my car talking from 2 until 8am.

i need to secretly admit that the whole job thing still hurts.

“i don’t have a problem with women. the problem is you like to compete with men.”

i will never forget this line. every time i’m faced with an obstacle, i’ll hear these words and i’ll break through that obstacle, if only by sheer force of will. because i’ll never let an idiot who doesn’t understand what i am try to tell me who i am.

i don’t compete with men, iuval.

i lead them.

lots of power. no outlet. i’m saving up.

sometimes it’s okay and sometimes it’s not okay.

i don’t like how i’m not finishing things lately. like i haven’t even finished the wang con recap.

i know i’m the type who likes to look before i leap with big decisions, so i want to make sure that i’m taking this time for contemplation and rejuvenation, not hiding under the covers freaking out.

sometimes i feel like sex is the answer but i can’t tell if that’s procrastination.

first thing this morning. i ignored someone. no eye contact. just pretended he didn’t exist. because i don’t like him. it’s really that simple. then i gave up my car. stranded myself in santa monica. wish i had known i was going to do that. i would have worn more comfortable shoes. walked towards 3rd street stopping to read every home for sale flier and restaurant menu on the way. home and food. cancerian traits. hmmm. this smells like i’m in love. damn. but with who? surely not someone i know. a shadow…who’s close.

like magnets.

went to borders. i knew the coffee girl didn’t know how to make my drink, and even though i suspected it would be bad, i took a sip and smiled at her, giving her a polite thank you wave. when i rounded the corner spit out the whole bean that had been floating at the top. was distracted by every borders employee who wanted to be helpful. the guy who pulled a coffee table closer to me so I could put my coffee on it was particularly sweet though. am listening to every conversation and aware of everyone. is this what it’s like to be out in public? don’t want to make eye contact with too many people because i feel like smiling at everyone.

i walked. and walked and walked and walked. i explored the farmer’s market. eddie had given me a monstrous avocado from florida. it was actually the most perfect avocado i’ve ever seen. and in a way, this was important because i have a feeling i will never see eddie again. i’ve been saving it until i could find the perfect way to eat it. i saw these unbelievably lively tomatoes and decided to make guacamole. of course, i’ve never made guacamole so i was going by inspiration. i bought the tomatoes and then an onion from two different stalls. i could have bought them at the same place but i wanted to support both. i saw someone advertising award winning guacamole. i squeeze in and sneak a peak at their label to check my work. I need cilantro. and a lemon. but i would rather use lime. there are no worthy limes in the entire market so i decided i would either search my fridge for that one lemon i swore i bought two months ago, or go without. decided to walk the few miles home.

then i discovered the santa monica library.

serene. something unadulterated there. reread this book about ant societies. it’s subtly hilarious and my happy little secret. switched off between chapters of reservation road (large print, the only copy available but it reminded me of being a kid discovering reading again.) listened to instrumentals from soundtracks. was occasionally distracted by a homeless man playing a psp.

i have been way way too involved with people lately. but what they don’t believe is quietly the truth, and what they believe is what’s completely non-existent. must maintain balance.

what is infinitely small is also what is infinitely large. what is infinitely large is simultaneously infinitely small. just grasp it people. please. however you need to express it and communicate it, just do it.

ffuhb

we were taught that. fallible fucked up human beings. to be a psychologist, you must identify with this.

i was sad tonight. i was so, so sad tonight.

but i think it’s stupid we have to pretend to be these ffuhbs.

let’s start our own game.

the more people who participate, the more fun it is.

you either get it or you don’t.

you’ll either know it or you won’t.

whatever it is that you can bring, bring it.

one thought today.

if you neglect rooms in a house, it can develop ghosts the way it gathers dust and insects. if you have a big house with many rooms, you have to give each room enough attention that the energy in them never realizes the neglect. otherwise, i think sometimes bad energy can take over a house.

One of the sweetest songs ever.

It’s a pity It’s a crying shame
He pulled you down again
How painful it must be
To bruise so easily
Inside
It’s a pity it’s a downright crime
It happens all the time
You wanna stay little daddy’s girl
You wanna hide from the viscous world…
Outside
Don’t cry you know the tears will do no good
So dry your eyes
Your daddy he’s the iron man
Battle ship wrecked on dry land
Your mamma she’s a bitter bride
She’ll never be satisfied
You know, and that’s not right
But don’t cry
You know the tears will do no good
So dry your eyes
They told you life is hard
Misery from the start, it’s dull
It’s slow, it’s painful
But I tell you life is sweet
In spite of the misery
There’s so much more, be grateful
Well, who do you believe
Who will you listen to, who will it be
Because it’s high time that you decide
In your own mind
I’ve tried to comfort you
I tried to tell you to be patient
That they are blind and they can’t see
Fortune gonna come one day
It all gonna fade away
Your daddy the war machine
And your momma the long and suffering
Prisoner of what she can not see
For they told you life is hard
Misery from the start, it’s dull,
It’s slow, it’s painful
But I tell you life is sweet
In spite of the misery
There’s so much more, be grateful
So who will you believe
Who will you listen to
Who will it be
Because it’s high time that you decide
It’s time to make up your own
Your own state of mind
They told you life is long
Be thankful when it’s done
Don’t ask for more, be grateful
But I tell you life is short
Be thankful, because before you know it
It will be over
Because life is sweet
Life is all so very short
Life is sweet
And life is all so very short
Life is sweet
Life is sweet

This song is emotional sex.

While emailing about memories with someone, I suddenly had a memory of my childhood. I was a happy kid. I mean, like, seriously happy. I mean like, seriously ADHD let’s celebrate the universe at the top of our lungs happy. The problem was, I couldn’t celebrate by myself. I needed to infect everyone to celebrate with me, and this posed a big problem for teachers outnumbered 25 to 1. My parents were SO embarrassed and still talk about it to this day. But I’ll tell you, the kids loved me. I could incite them into the most Lord of the Flies frenzies, even if all I had to do was let them chase me in circles until the adrenaline and euphoria took over.. I was a little war leader and guru which was a hard thing for my parents to try to hide from their peers.

Whatever they did to me afterwards, I am now shy. But no matter. I’ll keep moving.

I was reunited with a long lost friend in high school, and one of the first things he mentioned was a secret game we played as 5 year olds. I had forgotten about the old me, but now we were sharing a memory, a connection. We grinned about it and always did, every time we saw each other. In another storyline, his girlfriend HATED me.

Maybe that’s what it is. Attention. If you pay attention to someone and they simultaneously pay attention to you, you establish a connection and a memory is made. Rie called last night and wanted to show me an article pondering the power of seduction. One woman was quoted as saying, “you fall in love with anyone who will listen to your story.” Is that all it is? Is it that simple? But I think it is. If you take the time to listen to someone, and they happen to notice that you’re listening and it melts a part of them, you forge a connection within which you convey each other’s life stories.

Maybe that’s my talent. That’s what I’m good at. My coworker called it magnetic. When I was exploring my bad side, he called it mindfucking. But sometimes being around me, people become more aware. There’s an actual transference of energy and we’re suddenly on the same channel. I subconsciously move them towards an expansive expression of themselves and support them with motivation. They open doors that allow me to understand more of themselves. And somehow, we’re able to go about day to day like nothing’s going on. I’ve had conversations with close friends about this. But what I don’t tell anyone is that what’s difficult for me is that once I feel a person’s awakening, I can’t help but feel love for them. It’s nothing possessive, just a feeling on my chest that melts because I want to be a good person, but not where I’m willing to ever let the person know. I always try to make sure they can never tell for sure, that the fleeting image of the real person inside of me was just a whimsical dream, like the ghost of a beautiful woman who only appears to lonely strangers on a foggy night. Something about people knowing about the love I feel for them feels dangerous. I feel like I’m just adding complications to their lives and that I probably already did. So I usually just dismiss the feeling. I’m sure it goes back to some childhood or past life dynamic, but I’m okay with the way things are right now. I’m not sure I’m willing to give up my freedom and be caught by anyone. It’s a struggle though. It’s always a struggle. But every day, I still reach out to new people and electric connections knowing I never get to keep anything I reap. I keep my distance from people but leave lines of communication open. And if anyone really wants to reach me, they can reach me.

thoughts today:

I left so much money on the table, it still gives me chills thinking about it.

When I’m alone in a room with someone, I feel like I make it so noisy with my thoughts, it embarrasses me, so I limit the amount of time I spend alone with people.

Yes, I do eat healthy. Sometimes. I’m a person of extremes.

I can’t tell if people think I play dirty or just physical. I wonder if they can tell that half the time I’m giggling my head off on the inside.

There are some people in this world who are just very sweet people.

Without endings, there can be no beginnings. That’s what I told the German guy. It was almost 6 in the morning and we had been sitting in my car since 2, expounding on the idea of how I was amidst a new beginning and he was amidst an ending, meeting at random on a day that doesn’t exist (2/29). A stranger turned soulmate, just for a few hours. Life is really a train station sometimes.

I can be anywhere tomorrow. There is nothing holding me back. I could be in Seattle. Chicago. Driving to the Grand Canyon. The German said I should go to Munich next week so I said, okay. Maybe I’ll take a cruise. I’ve worked so hard for this. And now here I am. My friend said to me today, “You did it. You went and you set yourself free. You’ve built your life right and you did what 99% of people your age haven’t figured out yet. And now you can basically do whatever you want with your life.” I want to tell you, it was a hell of a lot of fucking work.

If you can catch me, you can find me. I’ll talk to you.

We’re going to turn this world around, everyone. Epidemics take time, work and skill, even the good ones.

Between the Warriors miraculous run last year under the slogan, “We Believe,” to Obama’s supporters vocally declaring that they believe, to the trailer for Eli Stone that asks us to believe.

Is everyone believing?

I had a very interesting conversation last night with a fellow Gemini. He kind of creeped up out of nowhere. Well, good for him, he came to tumble.

He thought I’d walked out of work. I told him, no, I resigned. And walked out. But they still want me to come back, and if I do, it would totally make me their bitch. It’s Animal Planet over here. And I don’t want to play anymore.

They’re terrified because my stance is that I don’t care about money. I treat it like shiny things. That I can magically make it appear. I tell my boss it’s not about money. It’s how I measure my success. He asked me in terms of growth where I thought I would be next year. 10%. 15% I said, I don’t know.

He drew a graph, making a box in the middle. If this is the office average, where would you be? AT THE TOP!, I say, like he’s an idiot who just asked me something that should be basic common sense.

This guy totally knows there’s no way he can keep me a secret. And there’s no way I’m shutting up about it now. Where I point my eyes and my passion, I go. I strive to live up to my ambition.

He swears up and down, he’ll build me a portfolio. It’ll be a better deal than any of the other ones he’s given me. We don’t have to go by the numbers.

Dude. You have tricked me for 3 years straight. I’m not falling for it a 4th time, I tell him, pissed off in an earnest kind of way.

No no, this will be the best deal ever. And if you don’t like it after a year, you can quit, he says with a grin.

Oh no, he’s got the upper hand. He knows he’s charmed me.

He lays out the numbers and then lays them out again. He repeats it to me 3 times even when I keep interrupting because I want him to stop. He’s talking in circles. But by the 3rd time, the numbers added up. He tells me he’d be happy to give me the deal I asked for, but it’s not fair to me and he really wants me to accept a deal that’s better. He’s laughing so you want to laugh along and then he asks me about my brother which is a cheap, cheap fucking trick because asking me about my brother is like showing a moron something shiny–I get a big grin and start telling Michael stories. And then he has me.

I make one feeble demand. Well, fine, I say. If I take this deal, then I also get to move to San Francisco and work there part time.

(uhwhat? Where did this come from)

“What??” he said, like someone had just sailed a frisbee through the air.

“One of my life goals is to live part-time in two cities. I used to think Seattle and San Francisco, but now I think I’d like to buy property in San Francisco and LA.”

“You can afford that?”

“Yes.” (bluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuff!!)

His face twists up with surprise. “With what we pay you?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.”

“I’m good with money,” I say.

He won’t budge. “Personally, I would say no, but let me talk to my brother and if he’s okay with it, I’m okay with it.”

C’mon. Even though I’ve met the man, I consider him to be a fictitious character.

We leave on that. You can tell the entire office has been listening at the door. As soon as he leaves, they storm the room. Well, and also because I’ve brought cupcakes. They are laughing. They’re convinced my boss has turned my head inside out and convinced me to stay. He does trick me every year with that carrot and I always bite. One of the guys said he’d almost teared up when he found out but now he knows my boss got to me. Yeah, he probably did. It sounds like a lot of money, I think. I could pay off a lot of my mortgage.

Well, I’m woken up this morning by my phone. No one ever calls my home line. It’s my coworker, my dark other. He’d been away on business all week. Did you hear, I ask him. I wanted to hear it from you, he says. I turned in my resignation yesterday. There’s a heavy silence. Oh man, he says, I guess it was going to happen. It’s the same thing I’ve been thinking a lot about.

Really, I say. I never thought he would seriously leave. We’re all magnetized there.

Well, yeah, he says. So is it final final?

No, he wants to give me a proposal. and I, uh, asked to be able to live in San Francisco part time.

He’ll never let you do that.

Yeah, I know. That’s why I asked.

He groans. The office is gonna be so weird without you.

You’ve gotta be strong though. You’ve gotta do a good job and keep coming up with ideas and projects so that they know it’s not the company that’s doing these things, it’s you. Don’t give anyone any excuse to devalue your worth and your contributions, okay? Make sure everyone stands up and helps each other, because whoever they bring into this company, if they tell them that we’re lazy and we’re disorganized, that’s how he’s going to come in seeing us. If he sees that we’re professional, we’re creating business, we’re strong as a team, they’ll know they can’t mess with that. We’ve gotta do it now. Alright? Get everyone on board.

Your efforts won’t be wasted, he said. What you’ve done, the symbolism of it, it won’t be for nothing. You really went around the office and woke everyone up. Even my brother said, “Julia. Fuckin’ Julia. How did she manage to motivate me into stepping up my game?”

I laugh. These are my fellow salesmen. The ones my boss said he wouldn’t feel comfortable paying me more than, despite my higher numbers.

It’s because we’ve never sat down and had a serious conversation, I tell him.

I truly believe I’m a better person having known you, he says.

And here’s where in memory, I realize something.

I gave him another bit of motivation, about how I’ve been really proud of him and how far he comes and how they’ve stepped up their game to the point of letting people know that we’re in control, not them.

I love you, Julia, he says. He’s never said that before. He’s not really that kind of guy. So I hear it kind of like the way my female friends say it to me.

I keep talking. About fire or something. Was probably feeling awkward.

But in hindsight, I wonder if that was important.

Go to the gym. Listening to music like a drug fiend. Shoot around on the basketball court with my iPod on. My focus is AWFUL, even with the power up. The Kid was there. He’s a fraction friendlier. Can’t tell if he’s on my side of the fence or just shy because I don’t pay a lot of attention to him. So I try to be more attentive this game. I’m playing physical. Why not? Had a Ben Wallace block under the basket. My first ever Ben Wallace block on a guy (it’s not as much fun to do it on a girl). Was pleasantly shocked. His teammates told him that was really embarrassing. He was a nice guy so it didn’t bother him. I liked him for that. Bobby shows up. I swear he’s gotten a haircut and his voice is deeper. Can’t define if there is a correlation. I liked to guard him because he’s easy to mirror. Will choose not to guard him next time because I don’t want to be an irritating bully. I’m a constant trash talker. It’s like Tourette’s. As soon as I’m comfortable with people, my mind can be completely focused on the game but my mouth goes on its own.

Got sad in the middle of the last game. Wow. Afterwards, sat down in corner and put on my iPod. Listening to G’d Up, I like that it’s urban but it’s so emotionally rich. Sums up how I feel. I rebound my ball and just take off with it to the basket at the other end. This sweet kid with cornrows is there so he rebounds for me and lets me shoot around, then we switch off. He airballs the first shot and I pass it back to him. He mumbles something but I can’t hear. What’d you say? “The ball is um…slippery because of sweat on my hands, which is why I missed.” I laugh. “That’s okay.”

They play fullcourt so I go to the other side to shoot. Where the hell is this sadness coming from? It’s like hav
ing a period start in your chest.

I’m listening to Fort Minor. High Road. Heard it for the first time today. This is my theme song.

Focus is terrible. Accuracy is terrible. The oozing sadness is freaking me out.

Bobby comes over later and says they need one more player. I don’t really want to play but there are some types I don’t say no to. I think he asked me how I was. I can’t remember. I’m heartbroken, I tell him.

What? You have heartburn?

I’m heartbroken, I say.

Oh…sorry, he says.

I play another game pretty half-heartedly but still too physical sometimes. I have a physical death wish. I’m all wet with this shit. It’s a physical weight on me and I can’t get my jump shot off. So I leave after that game, shower at the gym (haven’t done that in years) wear my urban rocker stuff and head out. Drive aimlessly. End up on PCH and take an amazing drive along the coast. I’ve never gone this far north. The cliffs are incredible. Stop at a beach to stare at the crashing surf. Someone is flying a kite and I think that would be a good idea. But don’t feel like stopping to buy one. End up in Oxnard. Drive back.

Beautiful.

I want to bring up one point that I can’t get out of my head.

I’ve worked so hard for this company. I’ve had great pride and have done everything possible to make us as professional and successful as possible. I motivate my coworkers because we’re a team and if they want to reach a certain level of success, then they have to be focused. I call up my coworker who my boss dismisses as being lazy because he’s always late, and tell him he NEEDS to start coming in on time, if only so no one can have any excuse to knock his contribution. I check on different departments to see how they’re doing and what we can improve to help them do better, and when they’re overwhelmed, I fight for a way to help them if a system isn’t efficient. I stress teamwork and we’ve built a company with amazing growth despite having absentee management. I’ve always been attentive and responsive to my customers, who have in turn, sought out business opportunities for me as a way to give back. My customers are more than just people who buy from me. They are my network of resources and anything I know or can do to help them, I do, and anything they know or can do that can help me, they do. That’s how you establish a foundation in any given market and build.

I’ve been working 3 positions for this company and refuse to consciously let anything fall through the cracks. I am the entire marketing department, I manage the most accounts including our biggest accounts which our VP used to handle, and I pursue my own accounts. I also run our office vending machine, but I just do that because it makes me happy to feed people.

Yet my boss says that it doesn’t matter how much work I do, the fact is that I’m no more valuable than any other team member so I shouldn’t be paid significantly more, even if it means the amount of money would be more reflective of the amount of work and responsibilities.

But the biggest thing that really gets me is this. When I ask my boss to give me a fair deal after 4 1/2 years of service and loyalty to the company, when I ask him to take away my quota system since I am the only person in the company who is limited by one, when I ask him to let me play on a level playing field so I can be measured for growth in the same way as others even if my capabilities may mean I make more commission, what does it mean when he says this:

“I don’t have a problem with women. The problem is that you like to compete with men.”

You tell me.

Go fuck yourself, thinking I can’t be better than the guys. They already know I am.

Yesterday I resigned from my job in protest. I’m very angry at the narrow-minded powers that be as they’ve undervalued our team. I’m completely heartbroken. I’ve lost my family, I’ve lost all my customers I’ve built strong, warm relationships with. But it was the only way for me to be honorable to my true value.

Do you know what you are truly worth? If you know what you are truly worth, then no one can tell you otherwise.