Echo

I’d like to shake the shit out of him.

Help Me Help You

I’m going to write a video sketch called Cabana Boy Training School. You can just imagine the wackiness that will ensue. So if you have ideas for funny things to include, please let me know. I’m going to cast it, film it then post it so it behooves you to help.

That is all.

This is a great article on the consciousness of fetuses. When I have a kid, I’m going to take the entire 9 months off and do meditative things to nurture the spiritual and emotional development of this baby. Lots of listening to music, energy work, reading outloud and envisioning of the immense power this human being will have to make positive changes in this universe. I only want one kid so I can focus on nurturing him/her and mentoring his/her development. I will try not to be overbearing and turn him/her gay.

I found this part of the article interesting:

Babies react with alarm to loud noises, car accidents, earthquakes, and even to their mother’s watching terrifying scenes on television. They swallow less when they do not like the taste of amniotic fluid, and they stop their usual breathing movements when their mothers drink alcohol or smoke cigarettes.

In a documented report of work via ultrasound, a baby struck accidentally by a needle not only twisted away, but located the needle barrel and hit it repeatedly–surely an aggressive and angry behavior. Similarly, ultrasound experts have reported seeing twins hitting each other, while others have seen twins playing together, gently awakening one another, playing cheek-to-cheek, and and even kissing. Such scenes, some at only 20 weeks g.a., were never anticipated in developmental psychology. No one anticipated sociable behavior nor emotional behavior until months after a baby’s birth.

We can see emotion expressed in crying and smiling long before 40 weeks, the usual time of birth. We see first smiles on the faces of premature infants who are dreaming. Smiles and pleasant looks, along with a variety of unhappy facial expressions, tell us dreams have pleasant or unpleasant contents to which babies are reacting. Mental activity is causing emotional activity. Audible crying has been reported by 23 weeks g.a. in cases of abortion, revealing that babies are experiencing very appropriate emotion by that time. Close to the time of birth, medical personnel have documented crying from within the womb, in association with obstetrical procedures which have allowed air to enter the space around the fetal larynx.

We saw the lead singer of this band whose CD release party we went to last week. He was with these two very LA-ish blond chicks. Reggie introduces me to him but he seems like the kind of guy who is self-involved and overly aware that he can make women worship him, so I say hello politely but continue to talk to someone else.

He left for a while but at some point, I noticed him standing next to our booth, facing me. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him looking at me out of the corner of his eye. He seemed to be carefully posturing himself in what he believed was his failproof “sexy” pose, and was trying to catch me checking him out. It was super egotistical. So I continued to ignore him and got into a really intense conversation with Reggie, until he left.

After a while, the two guys who were sitting across from us left. That singer guy came back and slid into our booth. Reggie asked him who were the girls he was with. One was his friend and he was just chatting with the other one. Reggie says that it looked like she was interested in him, and the guy says really off-hand, oh we’ve dated before….. sleazily implying that he’s had her in the biblical sense.

I decide, I don’t like this guy. He came over here to make a point that women lust after him. He thinks he’s the shit when it comes to women, but he clearly has misogynistic tendencies with the way he interacts with women. I suspect he’s sitting with us because he’s curious about why I’m not checking him out and fawning. So I suddenly change directions, turning on the faucet of flirt. I give him my best, the deep gazes and appreciative laughs, the showing of intelligent interest in what he has to say, pointing out things in common, establishing a rapport, etc. Then just as quickly, I turn it off, suddenly getting very involved in sportscenter which is being broadcast on a large TV by the bar. Reggie’s talking to him but the guy’s not really listening. He seems irritated now. I look at him and think about what dysfunctional creatures we humans have the potential to become when we get everything we want too easily.

5/12 Recap

I’ve gotta make this quick and dirty since I need to get up in 4 1/2 hours. I feel like I’ve been running on so little sleep and such a creative high ever since the NY trip. Or maybe I’ve just been quietly tripping about these things and these are but my muffled screams.

I went to a play with Reggie that was about truth and following your impulses. He let me analyze the performances and point out the nuances of concentration and actors who are playing off the audience and losing their centers.

Afterwards, we went to my friend John’s birthday party at Q’s. Here’s the thing. I randomly went onto Friendster on Tuesday, and that site’s doing birthday notifications now. I saw that his birthday was “today.” So I dropped him a quick line that just said happy birthday. He writes back that he’s having a party on Thursday and sends me and evite. So even though I’m going to a play, I make a point of stopping by since I haven’t seen those guys in 2 years.

I get there and Reggie’s friends happen to be there. We explore the bar further and I find John and his crew playing pool. I see my friend Randy and I get happy. He and I used to work together and we used to hang out a lot after we both quit. He used to invite me out then kind of ignore me, so it was never clear if he was interested in me. He started dating this girl (the relationship went on to last 3 years) and he was eccentric with her, doing things like not even spending Valentine’s Day with her and going to a concert with his friends instead, despite having been dating for a year. And he would still call me and invite me out, but sometimes I wouldn’t come out because it was awkward and because sometimes he wasn’t friendly, so I didn’t understand what exactly our relationship was. I see him and I’m happy because I’m thinking, “friend I haven’t seen in a while,” but he says hi in a really unfriendly way then makes a big show of ignoring me. I’m like, what the hell, so I go say happy birthday to John. He’s a very friendly guy. I have no interest in him whatsoever. So I’m just asking him where he’s working now when out of nowhere, this girl pushes her way between us, sticks out her hand and says, “Hi. I’m Eva. John’s girlfriend.” Being always diplomatic and friendly as I am, I quash the recognition of her antagonism in my head and just introduce myself and ask about her. I’m a pretty friendly innocent person so she chilled out a little bit. But the vibe was messed up, and I could tell Reggie wasn’t liking it either. It’s kind of cute how protective he is of me. So we slip out of the room and go back to the booth his friends had saved us.

I have to admit though, this kind of hurt my feelings, which is a huge admission for me. And of all people, I was surprised that Randy could hurt my feelings, considering he’s not that close to me and I don’t really care enough for feelings to be hurt. But it hurt to be blindsighted by someone who you think is a friend and always had positive regard for, and I think just the circumstances of that was what tripped me up. His friend Paul told me as I slipped out of the room, that Randy’s girlfriend broke up with him 6 weeks ago after three years so he’s still pretty bummed about it. But to be honest, he didn’t treat her that well and really took her for granted. So perhaps he’s just being a huge dick and taking something weird out on me. Honestly, he can’t ever say that I rejected him back in the day and he can’t say that I was anything but nice and respectful of him. He was never clear about what he wanted and frankly, I found his moods to be incredibly inconsistent.

Regarding John’s girlfriend, Reggie said later that the moment I hugged John, his girlfriend came storming over from across the room, made a big deal of keeping her body between his and mine and was looking me up and down like, “Who the fuck IS this bitch.”

I haven’t seen a catty display like that since junior high.

What a strange night.

I have been on such a people watching kick lately. I just want to watch people, analyze who they are, how they think, what their secrets are, and it fuels my creative process. It helps me grow and builds a better understanding of our inner wirings. I feel safe to people watch with Reggie since he makes sure that I don’t get harassed.

5,000 People Starved Because of You…

I’m watching Spellbound and they’re talking about one of the contestants, an Indian kid named Neil. They said that his grandfather in India payed for 1,000 people to pray around the clock for him to win the National Spelling Bee. And if Neil won, the grandfather would pay to feed 5,000 people. I’m just thinking, that’s a lot of pressure to put on an 8th grader, who knows that if he fucks up, 5,000 starving people in a third world country don’t eat.

By the way, that kid Harry is a kick. I’ve never seen anyone so spastic. When he talks in that “musical robot” voice, I just lost it.

Quote of the Day from Owen’s Awesome Blog:

“Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we.”
-President George W. Bush

Today is Reggie’s birthday. Happy birthday, Reggie!

So after my semi-fictional NYC story, I happened to find that a certain character-based-on was connected to me on Friendster. What a small world!

A tell. They always have a tell. I have a feeling that a certain poker player friend of mine has a handle on every person he’s ever met, but he’s just not willing to show his hand and give up any of his secrets yet. But it’s all there in his front pocket…’In Case of Emergency…”

You can predict a person by the behavioral harbingers of his emotions, the little tics and rituals that serve as an unconscious reveal of his intentions.

I don’t know what to make of the events of tonight. I have never been here before. One would tell an actor that he or she has room to play within the character, as long as the stage presents itself as a safe environment. But what does acting have to do with living life? Maybe all things synonymous are more integrated than previously mathematically thought.

I just got back from NY late last night. It was a whirlwind trip that began with the red eye out of LA late Thursday night, and ended with my crashing into my little slice of spiritual heimat at 3am early this morning.

I had adventures. Things that make me say, hmmmm. And I haven’t quite sorted everything out in my head yet. So soon to come as erratically as I create it, lots of jumbled thoughts, descriptions, hopes and fears…and secrets, always secrets, laid out bare for you to decipher, for your reading pleasure.

Sometimes I miss who I was and how I experienced life at different stages of my life.

It wasn’t so much the music pounding through her and setting the rhythm of her heart, or the heat of the writhing bodies around her. It wasn’t even the growing assurance of everyone attendant that the most delicate form of primal passion was just a thin lining of cloth and a snap decision away, needing only a simple surrender. It was the naked current that rushed through her entire being when the other woman reached out for her hand and clutched it to her heart. For a brief pocket in time, all sense of separation fell away, leaving only a fact of being, a connected oneness, and a sudden remembrance of how it feels to be whole again.

I’ve been staring at this painting for a long time. It’s incredibly haunting and terrifying to me, but it reminds me of something that really disturbed me about the remake of Amityville, disturbing because it played upon something incredibly honest and powerful. When the people leave and the ghost of that little girl cries, it’s haunting and sad, how lonely and ugly she feels, trapped in a dark world that people don’t understand, that people are afraid of, and how rageful it makes her feel to be in her situation. I think mental illness is like that. Because they need so badly to be loved and understood, but it’s like interacting with a ghost…there are two different planes being operated on. I believe it’s the loneliness, that raining feeling that comes from the inside, that tinges the existences of those entrapped by the forces between where genius and madness meet.

Support Survivor Art!

Read their stories as well. Amazing things. Abuse is a cycle that causes incredible to victims as well as affecting the communities around them. It’s a vicious cycle that takes away a person’s inner light and denies the people around them the full potential of what he or she has to give. It takes a lot of strength and courage to overcome abuse, and requires a great deal of compassion and nurturing from those whom the survivors encounter.

So check out their expressions, read their stories and donate if you can!

wanted: kindred souls

do you feel a higher calling? a deeper failure running a fissure inside of you? find it hard to wake up in the mornings knowing what’s already in store for you. think closer by nin is brilliant. are you hiding the primal side of yourself.can you see the colors of the universe blend together to form something tangible. hear the heartbeats of billions of souls around you. take constant naps.

i am lost in this world that feels so big. i fear the echo from speaking too loudly. I see the darkness as a reprieve. I feel the unknown as a tunnel that has no ending. The constant blackness swirled with silky red will sting your eyes. so i advise you not to look.

in my dream last night i heard a child crying. i rounded the dark corner of an alley to find a young girl half hidden in the shadows with a wounded leg. i approached her cautiously, my eyes adjusting to the darkness, only to find an alley cat gnawing at her calf. to be honest, the little girl was more curious about the situation, maybe a little anxious, than she was horrified. enraged, i scared the cat away, grabbing its neck and throwing it against a wall, my anger towards cruelty against innocence focused into a singleminded intent of breaking this cat into little unrecognizable pieces. it disappeared around the corner of the alley and when i turned around, the little girl had disappeared. i felt an immediate loss in my chest. that girl might have been someone who could have really understood me.

SAF, 26, in search of like minds. willing to travel.

Tonight, What I’m Calling a Good Time:

candlelit bedroom, downward spiral, trent reznor paralyzing my mind as i do freestyle yoga and smell fresh possibility in the cool night air.

End of the Workday Musings
(aka Desperate Attempts to Make the Clock Move Faster)

Have you ever had a nickname/handle for so long that you can’t even remember where it came from? Why the hell am I jpchunderbutt?

I met with the producer of my short and he’s now on board for my dark comedy feature as well. He was really excited about it, which is awesome because not only does he get it, but he sees its potential. The most important thing is to have people who are really excited about your project. Sometimes it just takes one person with enough connections to push things through. He thinks it can be shot comfortably with a budget of $3 million. I told him, that’s a little bit above my credit card limit. We’re going to be putting together a business plan and investor’s packet soon. This whole thing is so exciting because I finally have a producer who knows how to do these things, has experience doing it, and really wants to see this happen. I’m really, really excited. (Blog Ho, I still owe you a copy of the script and $1. I haven’t forgotten. They’re coming when you least expect it…).

This Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise thing is both disgusting and ridiculous. I don’t care how good-looking he was/is. He’s so cheesy in real life that he’s like that dorky uncle that everyone has. And then he’s got his mouth pressed up to yours and you’re like, what the hell is going on? You’re my uncle! And you’re old! And you smell like a wet vacuum bag! And then he acts like nothing happened when your mom and aunt get back from shopping at Target and you’re not sure if you’re supposed to be excited or disgusted at this little secret. Which is how I theoretically imagine what kissing an old cheesefart like Tom Cruise in public must feel like when you’re a young, spritely girl who knows with each camera flash, that your credibility is going down the drain.

I am trying to get a 4-pack in time for summer. Brian greatly appreciates the now-common sight of me on the floor of my bedroom, lying down in my underwear, watching DVDs as I lift weights and do crunches.

Speaking of strange behavior, Brian thinks it’s strange that when I come home for lunch and heat up spaghetti, that I take off my shirt and eat while just wearing my bra so as to not risk getting anything on my shirt. I also make spaghetti sauce shirtless, wearing an apron over my bra as to not soil any shirts (tomato stains can be hard to get out). I told him my habit has always been to strip down to my bra when I get home. It’s the equivalent of a man loosening his tie when he gets home from work. In high school and junior high, the bus would drop me off at the bottom of our hill and I would have to walk a mile up a steep hill in sweltering California heat. I’d be sweating and feverish by the time I got to my front door so the first thing I always did was strip down to my underwear and stand in front of the fridge with the door open to cool off.

Clothes are overrated.

I’m leaving for NY tomorrow night. Rie gets married on Friday night and I’m supposed to read a poem at the wedding. I chose:

“Love one another but make not a bond of love: Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. Fill each other’s cup but drink not of one cup. Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf. Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone, even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music. Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping. For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. And stand together yet not too near together: For the pillars of the temple stand apart, And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.” (Kahlil Gibran)

I love this quote:

“Night fell again. There was war to the south, but our sector was quiet. The battle was over. Our casualties were some thirteen thousand killed — thirteen thousand minds, memories, loves, sensations, worlds, universes — because the human mind is more a universe than the universe itself — and all for a few hundred yards of useless mud.”
~ John Fowles (1926-)

I’m bored now. I’m going to put my head down and will away the time until I get to leave.

I luuuuurve Family Guy.

But I just read creator Seth McFarlane’s bio on imdb, and it gave me chills. Holy crap.

Beyond Words