Echo

But here’s the thing. In my experience, if you’re a lady in the street, a guy will get freaked out when you’re a freak in bed. They can’t handle it because it causes all sorts of weird respect issues. First you’re classy just like mom, and now you’re a sex kitten. It fucks up their heads. Jake told me that what guys actually want is a freak in the street who’s a freak in bed, but whom the guys can convert into a lady.

I’m not sure if I should just toss this wholesome label. On one hand, it serves me well and puts me in good standings with parents and the general adult world. But on the other hand, I’m stuck having to embody wholesomeness or risk freaking a guy out, so I have to act shy and even repressed in many aspects of my persona. I’m really kind of sick of it. And I’m sick of worrying that who I really am behind closed doors will freak out the guys who can’t handle what they thought they wanted. I’m not sure if my recent rampage is a cry for help or just me getting really tired of being stuck with this image that I feel pressured to maintain.

I think I’m starting to adapt to this virgin/whore conflict that guys project and it’s splitting me down the middle. There are the things you do with the boys that are the nice respectable boyfriend types, and then the things you do with the ones who you don’t care what they think the morning after. But I’m done, man. I can’t do this anymore. Guys–just accept that you’re a freakin’ lucky guy if you can get a girl who’s both sides of the virgin/whore coin. Don’t force her to pick. Then let her rock your world.

“I’ve been working on this girl…she just had her eggs harvested so we can finally have sex.”

They say that sarcasm is a defensive mechanism. Those gifted at comedy not only feel as though they are outsiders (just like the objective dramatists), but by feeling non-assimilated, they convert their repressed anger into a passive-agressive attack against anything that represents this excluding collective. For example, some comedians are outright angry (Denis Leary). But his humor comes from how witty he can form these insults and ridicule the things he doesn’t agree with. Ellen DeGeneres has a very self-effacing, passive style. I would bet money she has struggled with low self-esteem and as someone who has quite a lot of strength (and desire for control) she makes fun of her flaws first before the perceived hostile environment can. Ray Romano bases his comedy on observations about his personal, domestic life. Perhaps this is not the type of humor he communicated at the beginning of his career, but at this stage in his life, it has evolved to this. Watching the way a person’s comedic style and content evolve can tell you a lot about how the person has evolved psychologically/spiritually. He portrays himself as someone who is helpless to the elements of the domestic world, playing a somewhat passive role as the elements impose on him. In real life, Romano probably plays the dominant role in the household and marriage, yet his need for independence and his fear that he will not get it causes him to be detached in certain areas in his life. This detachment allows him to observe elements in his life in a way that gives him better perspective, and his need to passively conquer this source of his fear causes him to ridicule it.

I have a deep respect for people and life. This respect is founded upon a higher spiritual love of everything, at the very core level, even if ego-wise, I may not “like” everything. Everything comes from the same place, the same beginning, the same fiber and therefore, each person and thing is as much related to you as your own physical attributes.

In particular, with the people I meet, it’s not hard for me to have an instant, strong connection with them. This connection is founded on that deep respect. But I don’t like commitment, or commitment in the sense of overall expectations.

For example, I love nature. I love flowers. But I’m not a big proponent of cut flowers. When someone gives me flowers, I greatly appreciate the thought. But if you think about it, when you walk into a garden, you can appreciate the beauty of these flowers in their natural environment as they grow and thrive. When someone cuts flowers, they are trying to take this beauty and own it, by bringing it into their own environment. And this beauty becomes ephemeral once disconnected from its life source and soon dies. Why would you do that? Why does this need to own this beauty supercede your respect for its being and its needs to exist in its optimal state?

The same thing goes with people. If they can thrive being with you, that’s awesome. But I don’t want to own anyone. I don’t want them to feel committed to me because of social expectations so that they are soon cut off from their life force and the truth of who they are and their journey. Admittedly, I don’t want a guy who dates other people and disrespects me.

But if you’re honest about things and at the core, there exists this connection based on this respect, then regardless of where life takes you, you know that you will be doing what’s best for yourself and that person will be doing what’s best for himself and because these two things are also good for the other person, you will both thrive in this garden. Commitment is so often about ownership. About hording so you “have.” But you can “have” without hording and it’s longer-lived.

I’ve never cheated on anyone I’ve dated. And that’s not because I knew it was bad and shouldn’t. It’s because, when I decided to enter into a relationship with certain expectations, I knew that this was a place that I would be able to thrive, as would he, not because I wanted to own him or because he owned me. Commitment should be about both people wanting to be with each other, to walk a certain part of life’s journey together, and not thinking about all this other stuff that really clouds issues and causes so much interference between two people.

So no, I don’t like commitment. But when I find people that I respect, I will respect that connection and the other person’s welfare and in a way, I end up being committed based on the power of that respect.

So I thought of some other bears that might be good teaching models for him:

1. Be prepared to flirt a lot and imperatively, find a way to slip in the word “anal.”

Jake’s Failproof Guide to Ending Any Job Interview*:

1. Always end the interview with, “So if this doesn’t work out, how about you , me and little sandwich action?”

Last night I went out with the girls for the first time since I became a hermit because of my crazy work schedule. Since I’m the only one who’s single and the other girls are in really serious relationships, I decided that this night had to be crazy…Julia kind of crazy. So I told them that we all had to come up with porn names and introduce ourselves as such. So Sarita was Anita Wang (this is the name of a woman that my mom actually works with! She works with Harry Tang), Rebecca was Connie Lingos and I was Cherry Cummings. I ditched my Halloween alias of Taloofa Shihshihsteinberg Jankins because I didn’t think I could get any play introducing myself as Taloofa, no matter how well I can grind on the dance floor. So we went over to Red Rock and had a pretty fun time. I had a fairly creative pick-up line ready and the deal was that the girls could pick the guy I would use it on, but he had to be HOT because I guaranteed them that it would work and I didn’t want some creepy ugly guy stalking me all night. But I never got to use it because I met a pretty cool guy and we ended up spending most the night together. He was a good enough sport when he found out about our names thing that he said he’d go by Dixon Cox. That earned points with me. I love good sports. And he was a Virgo. Which earned even more points with me. Those who know will know why.

I’d like to go out dancing sometime. Maybe next weekend? Just with the girls because I love feeling the rhythm of the music course through me, and just moving with it, and not having to think about anything else. I’ve never really gone dancing out here in LA, and I never date guys who want to go dancing. So while I’m currently happily single, that’s definitely in my game plan.

My amazing baby brother turns 20 today!!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY LITTLE MAN! You are a blessing to the world.

[neurotic indicator #1]

So I end up getting there early ane while sitting in my car waiting, I’m wondering why he asked me to meet downstairs…is it because he knows I won’t go up there so he’s being nice by coming down instead to make it easier for me? Or is it because he doesn’t want me to go up there, worried that I’ll go in and disrupt the workplace with my hair-pulling and eye-gouging? Or is it because he doesn’t trust me to mail back my materials? Or maybe it’s because he wants to make out with me and this is his last chance, which I would kind of dig because I kind of find him attractive. But that last thought weirds me out because…it’s just weird (but hmmm…I can’t stop thinking about it now…)

So George comes down and says, “You look…happy” as I get my materials out of my car. I tell him, “Yeah, but I really miss this job a lot.” And I mean it. And I look up and he’s talking, kind of rambling/mumbling something about it being a crazy week and everything is doing great, just great, and how they have a lot of great kids and great parents, in fact I talked to one today, and yeah…we have some great parents and great kids. Now I’m uncomfortable.

[neurotic indicator #2]
I wonder, what the hell was that????? Why’s he getting all weird like this? All I said was that I missed the job and…what does that have to do with the company having great parents and kids and him in fact talking to one today? Is he agreeing that I should miss the job because they’ve got great parents and kids? Or is he saying, if you are telling me you miss this job because you want to come back, then I know you want that and fuck you because you can’t have it back so I’ll avoid the topic. (?) And now I notice that he’s not really making eye contact and his eyes are red, and I’m wondering if he’s under a lot of stress, really tired, or if his eyes are watering up the way Mike’s used to when he would run into me. Which kind of makes me feel good as much as it scares me. Because I cry inside a lot when I think about leaving this job. Regardless, there’s something about his eyes. Something about his eyes is haunted tonight. Maybe things aren’t going so well for him, whatever that may be. I feel a twinge of concern.

So he asks me how my job is and I tell him it’s okay, and can’t really come up with an answer, but now I notice that when he’s got me stumbling for the “appropriate answer,” he can make eye contact because I’m busy avoiding eye contact. And that’s the way I remember him. So I tell him that I like it, and that my boss and I sometimes butt heads. I felt weird for saying that, like, I may as well have said, car alarms are really sensitive because…where the hell did that come from? But I think I said it to let him know that in that place in my heart reserved for the love-you-like-my-favorite-mentor category, he’s got that spot.

I offer to walk him to the front of the building. And he tells me about an instructor who needs to take a leave of absence for a while since his brother was just in a car accident. I ask him about this instructor, and when I asked him, “How’s his brother doing?” He said that they had talked to him a few times and he said that it was pretty serious. But they didn’t really want to pry.

[Neurotic Indicator #3]

This one is a mental aside. I started thinking, why wouldn’t they ask? Okay, I know it’s about respecting privacy. But is it because they don’t want to get involved and get too close to this person? They don’t want to make this relationship too personal? I would have asked. I would have asked some questions just in case the person needed to talk. And I would have extended the offer of let me know if there’s anything I can do, and I would have meant it. Am I too engaged in other people’s business? Do I need to butt out? Or am I blowing all of this out of proportion? But this hits a nerve because I always felt like there was this clique of all the people who worked in the office, and all the instructors were on the outside, and they were so elitist about us and couldn’t even think of us as people. We were just people who came in to do our jobs, and that’s it. They don’t want to know about you as people. Fucking cliques. They really are so fucking elitist in that office. ANYWAY.

So George suddenly walks away and goes through the doorway, saying, “Well, if it’s not one thing then it’s another. Thanks for these.” I’m kind of surprised and just say, “See you later, man” and turn. And leave. That was really abrupt. And it didn’t make me feel good.

uh oh…door just opened…

So is George the one projecting the weird vibe of the company or is it Mike? Someone is screwing the dynamic and it’s one of the men. The one who has major issues with women. The one who is emotionally blocked, emotionally unavailable. The one who is misogynistic. The one who creates competition. The one who has control issues and needs to create an Inside/Outside dichotomy so that he can can feel like he’s on the Inside, because there’s the presence of an Outside. The one who completely avoids his emotions. The one who is terrified of anyone getting close to him. Somebody is hurting from abandonment. It could be both of them now that I’m looking closer because they are overlapping. Like goes to like and each is playing a side of the dynamic even though they experienced similar pain. That’s why they need each other. They will play this out. They need to examine their similarities and then they will understand their pain. What about George’s mother? (maternal figure) Something weird. This man keeps a lot of secrets. Has general anxiety about going home. He needs this you know. His company. He exerts as much control as possible over his company, his accomplishments, because this is what he built himself. This is where his sense of worth is based. This is where the ego is attached. How tightly he grabs the reins and exerts a need for control over the company is in direct relation to how little control he has over other aspects of his life. He doesn’t like this situation. It makes him feel helpless. And it makes him angry. When he goes home, he doesn’t always talk about the things on his mind. Not everything just rolls off his back like people think. There’s a lot of pent-up feeling. And he just makes himself forget. This man is deeper than even he wants to realize. Colors…black/red at the core (black means no one has seen it and red for color. That represents high energy for me. Martian energy so it’s the intense kind). That’s pretty deep. It’s possible that no one has even been allowed to see that far into him. This means it is very hard to catch him off guard so that he drops his mask. But if someone could make him do that, they’ll see. And it might be good for him. May not be possible in this life.

Um, okay, I didn’t need all that information. What the hell? I’m not passing that on because people think I’m weird enough.

My friend R had a huge crush on me. We had been friends for a long time and years ago, I had a small crush on him but it was fleeting. So we used to hang out all the time with a big group, but after a while, he was calling me a lot and we were hanging out on our own. He was going through a rough time in his life and I really wanted to be there for him; I cared about him a great deal and he was one of my closest friends out here, especially since it’s so hard to find people you trust in this city. After a while, he told me how he felt and I was pretty awkward about it but at least persistent, telling him that it was important to me that we be friends.

At this time, I was doing my research project on psychic ability. I had a bunch of people call different psychics and record their conversations, then I would debrief them on perceived accuracy. R asked the psychic about me and she told him to stay away from me. That I had “issues.”

So I was kind of pissed at her but laughed it off. But I thought the good thing that would come out of it would be that R would back off and just keep things at a friendship. One night, he’d been drinking and was bugging me again about how I could know that we wouldn’t work out if I’d never even tried. But to be honest, I had gotten to know him pretty well. And just knew that he had a brooding, volatile temperament that would eventually rub me the wrong way at best, and scare me at worst. But I hate it when people use that argument against me, so I agreed to try dating. He promised me that it would be really casual, no expectations. So then, the first night we kissed, he told me he loved me. I felt completely cornered. I told him I loved him too even though I didn’t mean it (romantically) but I was so afraid of hurting him in such a vulnerable moment that I said it. And in hindsight, that was stupid. So we dated for a few months and I really wanted to have romantic feelings towards him, but I just couldn’t. I knew this would never work out, but I was so afraid of hurting him that I didn’t know how to get out of the relationship. I kept asking for space and he started getting upset about why I would want space and that just made me more resentful and angry. Finally, after I demanded a week off, I broke up with him. He was pretty upset but I think he thought I just needed time and space to cool down, so he gave it to me. And we tried to be friends afterwards, though it was really awkward to see him when we hung out with our group of friends. I started dating this other guy pretty soon after, and he turned out to be a damn near maniac. He found out that R still called me and told me I had to cut off all contact with him. The stress was pretty bad and I think I really hurt R’s feelings when he called, crying, and asked if I was dating someone. Because that guy was in the room with me and he had already told me that it showed how little loyalty I had towards him when I wouldn’t tell my ex he was never allowed to call again, I told R that I was and that I loved this guy, and that he could never call me again.

I broke up with that guy soon after. He was insane.

But I didn’t talk to R for almost two years, avoiding him at a handful of functions we both went to, even though I would catch him staring at me from across the room. I felt horrible about hurting him, but I didn’t know what to say because I didn’t want that door reopened.

One night last year, 2 years after we’d broken up, he called me and left a message. He sounded pretty shaken up. I called him back and I guess he had had an incident with someone and he wanted to talk to me since I knew him pretty well and had been such a close friend once. We talked about what happened and I gave him advice, but then he randomly tells me that he hasn’t gone out with anyone since me. He started asking me why we broke up. I told him that it just wasn’t right, even though I have no hard feelings. He told me to stop lying and to tell the truth. I asked him what he was talking about, and he said, “C’mon, the reason we broke up was because you wanted to get married and I wasn’t ready, right?” …………………………… This scared me. This scared me a lot. I went back to trying to discuss other things with him and he started getting heated so I told him I was hanging up.

Now here are the things I think about. R was a really good friend of mine. But maybe he wouldn’t have been such a good friend if he wasn’t interested in me. If he had listened to that psychic’s warning, or if he had listened to me when I said I didn’t want to date, maybe we’d still be good friends to this day. Should he have stayed away because I have “issues” (which I admit that I do)? Or should he have stayed away from me because this was a bad path for him to walk down, since I couldn’t fulfill his expectations as far as my emotional reciprocation? Would our lives be different now if we hadn’t gotten together? Or would we be at the exact same place at this exact same moment?

I can’t think too much about it though because I’ll drive myself crazy. He had his problems and maybe these things were inevitable and it just happened that I was there to help him perpetuate things. And if it hadn’t been me, it would have been someone else. But it makes me think…every decision is a small path, and if you look back and look at the grid of all the other possible things that could have happened, all these alternate realities, you’ll realize that there are too many other paths to imagine walking down, and it’s not worth it.

I don’t know what I’m rambling about. Today’s definitely a stream-of-consciousness day.

I showed my cold turkey poem to linda today and she read it a couple of times and I think her eyes welled up. I wonder if she really gets my writing, or if she’s just trying to analyze it as a means to figure me out. I can’t even tell her what these poems mean. Does she think she can? If so, that would probably be good for me.

My basketball team is sucking, thanks for asking. Did you know that I posted on the bulletin board last week to give some guy some tips for his team, and then all the guys on the board started this string of posts with the subject, “IS JULIA A MAN?” and it went on for pages and pages and pages (like hundreds of posts) and every message had that subject title? Christ. So they accused me of sleeping with all kinds of people to get to be number one in fantasy basketball and were being all-around dicks about it. I even had one guy simulate what sex with me must be like. It sounded like a simulation by a guy with an intimate relationship with his tube sock. And the sweet guys who jumped in to stand up for me got bashed too. But I thought those guys were awesome. I was sarcastically sparring on the boards with them and a lot of the messages back and forth were really funny. Then there was all the speculation over what I looked like. I think they’ve agreed that I’m a 50 year old fat guy. It would be nice to finish up the season #1 so that I can have my picture up on the ESPN Fantasy Homepage. Cuz I ain’t no 50 year-old fat guy…

good times…

I will do anything not to go to bed. I’ve been having weird dreams again. Oh yeah, Roxie got me the connection to get onto a porn set. I have to write up a proposal now about the angle of my article and send in my credits and clips. I guess I have to be really careful in my proposal because they’ve been burned a lot by journalists showing the people and industry in a negative light. I’d love to do it on the psychological process of sex and performance–how the actors prepare and perform. Submit it to Psychology Today or maybe as a trade profile for acting. I would actually love to do this article. But I need someone to go with me who will hold my hand because I’m going to be terrified.

I just got done mentally chasing my own tail and I’m freakin’ exhausted. I can’t keep this up. I’m tired all the time.

But I think I’m at that now or never point in my life. Where I have to decide what I want to be and stick with it. It’s time for some inner consistency. That’s what integrity really is. Knowing where you stand and not letting other people push you off of that.

[I watched some of the Apprentice. Donald Trump and I share the same birthday, and almost the same time of birth! The biggest difference between him and I, is that when I become disgustingly rich, I’m going to use that money to buy a toupee that fits.]

I got down today for a brief moment. I don’t mean, got down like I put on some classic funk and busted out my afro and my moves; I mean, I got kind of moody. I was trying to re-organize my office and I came across a picture of someone I dated a long time ago. Have you ever come across a picture of someone you had deep feelings with a long time ago, but have since managed to completely put him out of your life, as if he never even existed? And then, when you see a picture of him, you think, “Who is this?” You have no idea. It’s like they really didn’t exist, or they were just a figment of your imagination. So I put this picture away quickly because I didn’t want to look at it, but it’s haunting me a little.

It goes like this. We meet someone and then have an intense, intimate connection with that person, and it’s almost as if a part of you that makes up the very being of who you are has merged with the other person. But then for whatever reason, things on this level, this human/tangible level, just don’t work out and you separate, even though this part of you that’s connected, maybe a part of your soul, feels as though it’s been ripped away, and now you have a wound that you carry for a long time. At some point, to move on, you have to force yourself to forget about this person, this connection. And the more you take out this person in your mind and tell yourself that he was nobody and that connection was just a crazy thought, the more he becomes less of a person, and more of a symbol. A symbol of something that must be walked away from in order for you to function. So you paint this new picture in your mind of this person, who was horrible, or backstabbing or weak or ugly and how you just despised being with him. And he’s this person that you’re happy you never have to see again and you’ve made peace with this “Never,” this thing that is an absolute, for the rest of your life, an ending.

Seeing a picture reminds you that this wasn’t just this black and white, good and evil thing, but that this is a history, and a set of real feelings, and a person. And you have to take apart the make-believe castle you’ve built around your heart in your mind and face not the things you told yourself to believe, but some of the realities, good and bad, making it impossible to compartmentalize your feelings.

Mostly, when I saw this picture, I was shocked. I couldn’t believe that I had been really intimate with this person, had shared such a depth of feelings. And all that was left of him was this two dimensional image showing tiny glimmers of what it was that had gone on inside of us. And I looked at him and thought, “Was that what you looked like?” Because he doesn’t look like the man I once loved and KNEW. He looks like a mildly familiar stranger, like someone whom I may have taken the same bus with every weekday for years, whose his inner-workings and soul effervescence had been overlooked by me.

If you stopped for a moment and just thought about it…isn’t it sad how people come and go within our lives? Do you ever say goodbye to an acquaintance, and as they’re walking away wonder, is this the last time I’m ever going to see this person? Do you ever hug an older relative and then wonder, is this the last time I’ll hug you? Have you ever kissed a boyfriend or girlfriend, and just felt it down to your soul, that this would be the very last time you kissed? Even if things are going really well? Do you ever just know this?

Sometimes I do. And it hurts so much in that moment. And then it hurts every time I remember that moment.

Goodbyes are awful. You know what? If I were granted three wishes, it would be 1. World Peace 2. A big rack 3. Never having to say goodbye again.

I don’t like looking at pictures of people I know I will never see again. No matter if we had a good relationship or a bad relationship. It’s just having to face the true meaning of Never… that’s why we need to believe in things like God, and ghosts and past-lives, right? So that we can say, yeah, there’s a Never, but there’s no such thing as Never…. Because on some level, things go on, right?

Wouldn’t that be nice to think that there’s no such thing as Never? Only Always. And even if the people you don’t like, all the things that you have to do that you hate, even if all these things were ALWAYS present, so would all the good things in your life. You would never have to say goodbye to a loved one. Never have to think, this is the last time I’ll ever be able to walk, this is the last time I’ll ever watch the sun set over the ocean, this is the last time I’ll taste fresh orange juice on a beautiful Sunday morning with the love of my life by my side… I would gladly agree to live with the constant presence of the worst things in my life, so that I can have the constant presence of the best things in my life.

Always. That’s my idea of heaven. And it’s also a maxipad.