Echo

For a friend of mine, who is going through a rough time:

“How can I shed tears for a man I should never have allowed to touch me in any way?” (White Oleander, Janet Fitch)

It’s contagious. The Coffee Bean Guy’s awkwardness has started making me so nervous that I won’t look at him, causing mixed signals, I’m sure, if he’s even noticed. I went in early on Friday and saw him sitting by himself. I was afraid to look at him, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw him tense up when he saw me, folding his arms over his chest and watching the area that I was in. I took a seat facing him to read my book and caught him looking (he quickly looked away). A few minutes later, one of the girls he talks to sometimes shows up. So she sits down and is chatting, then he gives her a hug and massages her shoulder. I’m confused as hell now. It all looks friendly, but you know, it doesn’t take much to scare me off. My drink comes and I pick it up at the counter and don’t look at him, even though he’s sitting right next to the counter, and take off.
This morning I got there at 7:55am, giving me half an hour to read (had 11 more pages of Blindness to go and really wanted to finish it). I saw him sitting outside when I walked up. I went inside and I saw him come inside 30 seconds later. He was sitting by the counter again. I ordered and took a seat not too close by, but where we could still see each other. I got my drink but was afraid to look at him. An older guy came in and they started talking. I noticed that he has a nice voice and laugh. I caught him looking once, but he quickly looked away. He left a few minutes later, walked by me but didn’t look, and didn’t come back.

Below is a piece of spam I received. Mother fucker… This guy needs a good leg-breaking.

On Friday night, Cindy, whom I’ve only hung out with a few times, brought over some friends of hers whom she knew from college. It was funny because Cindy is friends with Andrea and they’re pretty boisterous. Meanwhile, the rest of us all know each other and are pretty outspoken with our open-mindedness when we’ve had a few drinks (read: lots of talk about lesbians and penises). So everyone’s talking, and no subject is taboo, and we’re all just having a good time, but I keep watching one of the girls whom Cindy brought. She was very awkward and nervous. I noticed that she was very alert and watching everyone. But whenever someone talked to her, she’d amiably respond, but she was stiff, like she was in a job interview. She would shift her hands nervously whenever she spoke and sometimes, they trembled. I wondered if people ever take the time to watch shy people, and if shy people realize that sometimes, someone will take an interest in them, curious about what their experience of life is. I suddenly felt protective of her so I invited her to sit down with us and talked to her, trying to be as warm as possible, making sure that if someone told an inside joke, I would explain the background to her so she’d understand. There’s nothing worse than when everyone but you knows the meaning of an inside joke.

In hindsight, I think when I watched her standing there, listening to us and smiling but afraid to sit down, it reminded me of times when I felt like an outsider. Sometimes it was because people were mean and were trying to make a point out of letting me know that I was an outsider. Sometimes it was because these lingering feelings made me feel awkward enough that I always felt like I was on the outside, even when this wasn’t true. But I saw her and had an overwhelming feeling of not wanting her to feel that way and felt compelled to do what I could to ensure that.

It’s interesting how a random, seemingly unconscious behavior can point towards invisible wounds.

Maybe it’s true that I watch people because it’s easier than engaging. Maybe my ideal life purpose would be to devote myself to benevolence towards others without them knowing or wanting to get closer to me. Maybe I get more satisfaction out of improving other people’s lives than I get out of improving my own. Maybe I don’t know how to let someone in and trust he won’t fuck it up. Maybe I just threw away the best thing to ever happen to me. Maybe I’m just scared of a boogie man in the closet.

I’m very shy. It’s because I’m very sensitive. I used to be so shy, that when I was a kid, my mom and I would have fights about ordering a pizza because she insisted I call it in to “learn how to deal with fear” and I would be crying and begging her not to make me because I dreaded having to talk to the pizza guy. I’m still an introvert at the core, but have learned to detach myself enough to be deceptively outgoing. The crazy things I’ve done, they always feel like things I do for adventure, that I can use for writing inspiration later. But the things that are closer to my heart, the things that matter to me…it’s still hard.

To completely change the subject–

Just finished Antwone Fisher. Amazing.

If one day I could write and direct something so truthful as this movie…it would be the crowning achievement of my life.

Help

Lil Jon sucks.

I think I may have gotten talked into unquitting today.

I owe many, many, many people emails. Sorry everyone. I’ll try to catch up this weekend.

Someone I work with is going to China to meet his (hopefully) future wife, whom he met on match.com.

Brian says the Mormon Temple on Santa Monica Blvd. looks like a giant soap pump. It’s true.

I want to take a 30 day tour of Europe in June but it costs $5000 for the package + air. It freaks me out to spend that much money on leisure. But it’s 12 countries.

A man survives six nails to the head. And someone Brian knows has a 30% chance of surviving after a basketball to the head caused swelling in the brain.

On a lighter note, I tried playing basketball for the first time in a long time tonight to test out my back. Some guy was being an obnoxious shit. We were all shooting around and sharing the balls so I got the one he was waiting for, then hit 8 three-pointers in a row so he had to keep giving me change. I hate guys who disrespect just because I’m a girl. In the one pick up game, I was 1-2, scoring on a crossover spin move under the basket around this big black guy who tried to go up for the block. I’m pretty rusty but that was sweet. I’m going to pay for it tomorrow though, because my back is screaming right now.

I’m out. Here’s the poem from the movie (reminiscent of Langston Hughes, one of my favorites). It really hits the pulse of every adult who still holds an immense amount of buried pain from childhood inside of him or her. Amazing when he recites it in the film:

Who will cry for the little boy, lost and all alone?
Who will cry for the little boy, abandoned without his own?

Who will cry for the little boy? He cried himself to sleep.
Who will cry for the little boy? He never had for keeps.

Who will cry for the little boy? He walked the burning sand.
Who will cry for the little boy? The boy inside the man.

Who will cry for the little boy? Who knows well hurt and pain.
Who will cry for the little boy? He died and died again.

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, YOU’RE cool, fuck you I’m out.

Yep. I did it. Next month, I’ll finally get to do some traveling. And work full-time finding that friend with benefits. Or, catch up on writing, more likely.

H. More rehabilitation programs and education in prisons. Eliminate dehumanization.
E. More focus on at risk children. Each child who slips through the cracks is another wound in the legs of society. Fuck, man, we’re all human beings here. Where’s the love?
L. Peja!!
L. Blindness (Jose Saramago)–started it this morning, halfway through, this book is making me claustrophobic.
S. The novelty is gone. I want my car back.
Y. Coffee Bean guy waved today. I’m bored with this whole thing already.
E. My back is still messed up. Been out since August and I’m dying to go shoot around. Is there any fixing it?
A. I wanna learn how to surf. What’s the risk of retearing an ACL?
H. I like nice, sincere people who can make me smile.

I talked to Linda today and told her my brother is doing incredibly well. He sat my dad down and told him that he’s concerned about my dad’s drinking lately. I’m so proud of him, because that would not have been something that I would have had the guts to do. As much as my brother looks up to me, I look up to him as well. Michael has always made me strive to be a better person.

She asked where I stand on dating right now and I told her I was in the same place…every once in a while I get lonely and think it would be nice to have companionship–someone cool I can call up and chat with or spend low-key time with without worrying about games and second-guessing. The relationship equivalent of jeans and a t-shirt. To say, something casual, has the wrong implications. Just something chill, where we respect and appreciate each other and can just enjoy spending time together, enjoy the Moments, without worrying too much about where things are going. It would be cool to meet someone where we have the same bond and rapport as with my best girl friend, except it’s with a guy with the extra dimensions. But I’ll never force anything. Time is precious and I enjoy my time alone as much as I enjoy my time with people, so I’ll never waste my time on something unsatisfying just for the sake of company.

So this weekend featured my computer being hit with the Sasser virus. Which means it shuts down just about a minute after start up. I mean, it doesn’t wreck your hard drive or anything (as far as I know), but it’s a freakin’ nuisance since I ended up rebooting a good 30 times over the weekend just trying to stay on long enough to run a virus scan (which was never accomplished.) And I can’t help but think that if these people who sit around and create brilliant viruses because they hate Microsoft just put some of their brain power and energy into something productive, like curing cancer or solving world hunger or getting American Idol off the air, then the world could advance at a brilliant pace towards collective productivity rather than splashing around in a puddle of our own filth and envy.

In other news, my mother appears to be having some sort of mid (?) life crisis and has dyed her hair blond. Picture to come. Apparently, she went to see Mean Girls on Saturday and joked that she was the “Cool Mom.” I asked her why she doesn’t just go for it all and get a boob job, and then a little lap dog to chew on it. She said, “I’m thinking about it.” I wasn’t sure she was kidding but hung up the phone to go bang my head repeatedly against a board with a nail sticking through it.

Speaking of Mean Girls, despite receiving mixed reviews, this movie was funny as hell. I have a loyalty to SNL movies, since I have a loyalty to SNL, since I aspired to be an SNL writer ever since childhood. I love Tina Fey–she’s smart, sexy and exudes charisma. The movie was a teen movie and hit the formula and cliches like marks, but hell…it was a good teen movie. I liked the play on stereotypes, and the fact that they separated the Asian Nerds from the Cool Asians in the cafeteria.

I went and saw The Underpants on Saturday. the play adapted by Steve Martin playing at the Geffen. Very raunchy and fun. You could hear Steve Martin’s voice in it, for sure. I learned something new from the heroine. When trying to seduce a man, not only should you have your legs spread and sticking straight up in the air, but it helps if you make exaggerated pointing gestures at your cootch.

Sarita, Rebecca, Lauren and I attempted to bar hop on Saturday to look at places that I might have my birthday party. We stopped by Belly, which had nice decor and music, but the parking was $10, the bar requires a $15 minimum to open a tab, and the crowd was lame. They suggested that I have the party at my place, since I’ve never had a party there and it’s a sweet pad. But I just don’t want people coming in and junking my place since…you know, it’s mine. But I’m considering it, since I’m really tired of all the bars. Anyway, we ended up just going to Red Rock because it’s in walking distance to one of our houses. The place is a total meat market. I hate meat markets. But it’s great for people watching. We ran into AD and Amal there which was awesome cuz those two are a couple of characters. I met a German guy who seemed a bit intent on cheating on his girlfriend, so I left him and Lauren to talk about German culture while I quietly observed the bizarre, drunken mating rituals that were going on around me. At the end of the night, Sarita and I went to get my car and this really drunk middle-aged slob tried to pick a fight with us. He got right up in Sarita’s face and kept asking her where she lived. She wouldn’t tell him and he wouldn’t go away. We moved to an area about 5 feet away. His friend came up to apologize for him, but I could see him getting all riled up in the background. Then he comes marching back over to us to ask us why we had such attitudes and were such bitches for not telling him where we lived. Okay, I got pissed at this point. Because I’m sober and this guy is sloppy drunk and being a dick, and he has no right to call us bitches just because we’re not letting him harass us. So I have more leverage because I’m sober and my brain actually functions and all he can do is to keep calling me a bitch and say how he would never date me (jeez. I’m heartbroken). So finally, I’ve just about had it with him and I tell him that his penis must be really tiny for him to be trying to pick a fight with a couple of girls. He can’t quite process a comeback so he just kind of stutters and finally says, “Well, YOU’RE insecure.”

Right.