Echo

The Dampier Trade

Oh hell yeah! Damp never really had his heart in Golden State. He was awesome last season, and that worked out for us as far as trade value. I was grumpy for a whole week when I thought he was going to NY for Othella Harrington and Nazr. That was bullshit. But now…Najera is a banger whose style will totally complement Jersey Surfer Boy with an Irish Temper, Troy Murphy. Laettner will be dealt for his contract. And we got draft picks. DRAFT PICKS! Which the Warriors will blow, but hell, it theoretically ensures the future of a young team.

I dreamed a whole basketball conversation last night. I was talking to someone and I asked him, which team do you think will have the biggest turn-around next season? He said Golden State. I said Utah. Kirilenko, Boozer, Mehmet and Carlos Arroyo?? That’ll be a fun team. In the dream, I also thought that all this talk from the Warriors about re-signing Jason because he’s the cornerstone of the organization was fluff to build up his trade value. JR is a crowd-pleaser who is limited in his defense, and a very streaky offensive player with a questionable outside shot. Half the league is made up of serviceable 2-guard scorers. They’re easy to find (and draft). They need to trade JR for someone solid with the intangibles..

People I’d rather have than JR (logic not abided):

Jason Terry (at least he’s more consistent and can shoot the 3ball)
Pau Gasol
Bobby Jackson
Tayshuan Prince
Z Ilgauskas
Corey Maggette

WHY CAN’T WE HAVE GINOBILI?????

I love him.If we had him, I would quit my job and spend home games sitting behind the Warriors bench and playing with his hair.

I had another dream a few nights ago where I won Fantasy Basketball and got a voucher for a free Volkswagon. I went to the dealership to see if I could get a Touareg, and then trade that and my car in for an Infiniti FX hybrid. Which doesn’t exist. But it did in my dream.

In other basketball news, I’ll be flying up to the Bay Area in November to watch the 2nd and 3rd Warriors home games. Utah and the Clippers. Good times.

“We have a Teletubby sitting in a baby rocking chair that she pulled out of the garbage bin and a TURTLE in the dining room, and an elliptical machine with a sequined cowboy hat hanging on it in the bedroom.”

We have to tell them about a big event that’s coming up so Brian offered:

“You had that big thing* where you ‘pretended’ you were coming out. We should just say you’re coming out. Colin would be happy to email them and tell them that you’re a lesbian, with the fleece vest to prove it.”

[*our friend Andrea surprised us with a visit from New York, so I told everyone I had a very serious announcement to make, and they had to be at my house at a certain time, in order for her to walk in and surprise them. Colin had bet money that I was coming out because, “lesbians love drama.”]

Brian’s requests of the show:

“Bring equine tranquilizers or somethin’ cuz this bitch ain’t gonna let you throw out her stuff without a fight. And can you figure out a way to keep her pants up? Get her butt implants or SOMETHING.”

On one hand, I would love the makeover they do to your place. I’ve been saving up money to redo the lighting design in my condo (Brian: “the lighting is SURGICAL”). On the other hand, I don’t want to be the butt of a reality tv joke. And I don’t want them going through my underwear drawer, and other, more private drawers.

But on the other hand, free stuff.

But on the other hand, they throw out my random, eccentric stuff.

But on the other hand, free stuff.

How spoiled are we when our biggest quandary in life is whether or not to apply for a reality show?

I love looking at people’s handwriting. It’s an artistic and truthful form of personal expression–artistic because it comes from the subconscious, and truthful because it inherently unveils people. I’m especially intrigued by handwriting at the ends of the spectrum, from the completely indecipherable to the inhumanly symmetric. I notice that what muscles a person subconsciously chooses to use can also affect the script–normally, I use my fingers more than my wrist to guide the pen tip, creating tight, angular script, but when I’m writing more creative things, I notice I use my wrist more, creating softer, sweeping characters (though overall, my handwriting is aesthetically atrocious).

I’m off to the Bay Area with my brother for our grandmother’s birthday party this Sunday. I got her a necklace designed by a famous Chinese glass artist, and Michael got her a can of hairspray (Me: You got her HAIRSPRAY?!? Michael: JULIA. She will LIKE it because she will know that it comes from Michael’s heart.)

A bad relationship doesn’t necessarily have to be one that’s tearing-the-trees-out-by-the-roots combative. Sometimes it just involves personality incompatibility–by being who a person inherently is, that person makes the other feel unhappy or inadequate or lonely.

When I have friends in bad relationships, it kills me. I know how brightly their inner light can burn and when I see it dimmed that way, it really upsets me. But it’s so hard to tell someone that maybe the person that they really like or love isn’t right for them, or to get them to take their unhappiness seriously and not be so willing to sacrifice themselves.

I think that when you really care about someone, you never want to see them get the short end of the stick. It’s like how my mom always tells me, there’s rarely perfect balance in relationships–only settle down with someone who loves you more and is more devoted to you. Of course she’d say that. It’s just like, I want to see all of my friends and loved ones be with people who absolutely worship them, because I think they’re all wonderful people. But again, it really pains me to see someone I care about not be completely happy, or settle down with someone who is self-centered and isn’t generous about making her happy, and isn’t even at the very least, putting in the effort to try.

There’s only so much you can say. You can give them advice to really examine the relationship, you can point things out, but ultimately, it’s their decision. And when you think they’re in a position where they might get hurt, it hurts so much to stand by and let them learn their lesson. You can’t protect the ones you love from everything, and you can’t live their lives for them, and sometimes, it sucks to feel so helpless.

This is why I’m afraid of parenthood. I know that with kids, you would give your life to protect them. You want to tell them what’s good for them and what’s bad for them, but ultimately, there are so many lessons in life that some they will have to learn for themselves the hard way. You can tell a kid not to touch a hot stove, but until he puts his hand on it and gets burned and realizes that the reason for not touching it is because it’s painful, he’ll only think of it as a distant idea rather than a reality. So much about parenting is about standing by and watching your kids learn about life, knowing that they need to stumble and fall sometimes in order to get back up and walk taller, but it’s a heartbreaking experience to see them have to fall.

I watched my parents deal with the hard realization of being human–having to deal with feeling inadequate because they weren’t able to protect my brother and I from everything that has hurt us in our lives. I have seen my brother learn so many lessons the hard way, face so much cruelty from small-minded people and find his place in a world where people seem to speak a language that he can’t quite grasp, and it kills me that I can’t protect him from everything that has and will ever hurt him.

I fell asleep at work today and dreamed someone shot me.

In the afternoon, I went to see an eccentric, hippy-ish but adorable podiatrist who looked like a Pacific Northwest trail guide transplanted into a sterile doctor’s office in the middle of polished Los Angeles. I loved it! He was working on me and asked me about my experience in PR/Marketing. I said I’d be happy to do some PR work for him and asked if he was looking for a freelancer as opposed to a full-time person. He said, “I need a freelancer. [pause, turns away] I need a freelancer for my wife.” I was taken aback for a moment cuz I thought he was saying, he needed someone to sub-in as his wife and I thought, WHAT THE HELL??? (Yes, the collective hindsight of my wait-a-minute moments of obliviousness with creepy old men has made me very jumpy.)

But then he went on to say that his wife was starting up a practice and would need PR.

This world confuses me. I don’t know whether to be really onguard with people or really trusting, because the world definitely keeps me guessing.

My physical therapist is the bomb. (I know you love your gyno, Amber, but I bet my PT could kick your gyno’s ass. Yes, I am seven). She makes me laugh and makes me feel less bummed about my back, and reminds me of those great times back when we were all kids, when things were still simple, and how comfortable it felt to be around other kids who you absolutely trusted because they were still young and so open and just decent.

God. LA can make a person feel so cynical and spiritually isolated. But for every hundred people I meet who are the selfish, self-centered kind, the ones who are always taking advantage of other people, are motivated by ulterior motives and are, just generally, people who don’t appreciate or care about other people, all it takes is interacting with one decent person to make me feel good about people again.

This is the thing that I hate so much about religions. You can meet the nicest, kindest people at churches. But you can also meet the most judgmental, closed-minded people. And sometimes, those really nice and kind people are also the closed-minded ones, and that really confuses me. If you go to a place of worship to feel ultimately connected to a greater power and your fellow human beings, then how can there be any place in your heart, your soul or being to feel condescension towards anyone or anything? I don’t understand it. That people have the ability to turn their kindness on and off, to be capable of withholding kindness from anyone in dire need. It makes me feel socially retarded, but I really can’t understand how that works.

I would love to go to a church to meet good people, but I can’t stand the dogma, the potential for small-minded human judgment and oppression. I just want to meet spiritual people who believe in the power of kindness without trying to influence me to feel power over anyone else. I honestly think the people who are kind are our angels, because small reminders that they exist are enough to stave off anyone’s feelings of drowning in existential loneliness.

I think I’m feeling good because I’ve got my brother here whose gear is stuck on kind, and I got phone calls today from Rie (a good friend getting married), and the boys from Starbuck’s (calling from the store).

Thank you so much for your kind email today (Subject: Make your scallywag massive!); I can’t tell you how much it means to have a stranger take such interest in my vanity and be willing to help me make the improvements necessary for me to be an outstanding member of society. You have hit the nail on the head when you asked me if I dream about adding inches to my scallywag. In fact, just yesterday, I showed my mother my scallywag shortly after we exited our shower together, and she said, “Julia, you have a beautiful scallywag. But you know what would make it a GLORIOUS scallywag? More inches.” The universe must be synchronized, or God is looking out for me, because I opened up my inbox this morning and like a miracle, there was your email!

My only concern is that you say your product only adds 2-3 inches, and I’m afraid that 2-3 inches would still leave me with a below-average sized scallywag. Do you have a maximum strength version of your product? Or prosthetic accessories that can be purchased along with your product? I would not need anything drastic–Lord knows that I don’t want to go around with a bigger scallywag than those on the people I date. But just a big enough scallywag to give me a respectable bulge in my pants.

I would greatly appreciate more information on your product, as I think this is the very thing that could improve my quality of life! By the way, would you happen to know CuM_N_YoUr_PaNtS? He sent me an email yesterday (Subject: Horny Housewives Need Big Cock Now), but I accidentally deleted it instead of spam from that damn Christian Dating site that somehow got a hold of my email address. Sick motherfuckers. Anyway, I wanted to introduce him to steve b who sent me an email (Subject: Sluts Love Horse Cock). I thought those two might be able to join forces and help each other out.

So please get back to me ASAP. The more I think about it, the more I’m feeling inadequate about my scallywag.

Some quick notes before I’m out for the night to watch Love Actually…