Echo

Julia Angry…

Just got back from the Warriors/Clippers game. The Warriors dropped back to 0-3, losing another one tonight with sloppy play. They just don’t have much chemistry out there. I think they’ll get better as the season progresses.

So let’s talk about my shitty little hick town of Fremont, California. Back in the day, it was all white trash of the cowboy variety. And then Silicon Valley boomed and it became the residential city for Silicon Valley multimillionaires, their employees, and random sports superstars. Not to mention, M.C. Hammer before he dropped the “M.C.” Obviously, the cowboy-up folks hate the Asians, who comprise nearly 60% of the population. There was quite a stir a few years back when some letter eloquently ladened with racial slurs hit an internet message board talking about how all the foreigners in this town need to go home. So seeing how prosperous this town is and how every other car is a German luxury car (or minivan), it’s easy to forget that at heart, Fremont used to be run by white trash.

This morning, my brother and I were crossing a major intersection of the affluent side of town. From the far side of the six-lane road, some guys in a souped up truck were stopped at the light. The driver rolled down the window, pointed and yelled at us, then flipped us off. My brother and I kind of looked around like, “Who’s he pointing at?” before realizing it was us. I grab my brother’s hand as the crosswalk signal turns white and we cross the street. As we approach the truck, the driver of the car demands that my brother “come here.” I can feel my brother scared as he presses closer to me. I whisper to him to ignore the guys. He keeps trying to get my brother to approach the car but when we continued walking, he calls my brother a name and flips him off, then the other guy opens his door like he was gonna come fuck with us. Complete harassment. From a couple of white trash punks.

OH. MY. GOD. There is 1 think you absolutely DO NOT do around me. YOU DO NOT FUCK WITH MY BROTHER. You can fuck with me and I’ll still want to beat your ass, but if you fuck with my brother…I turn into the Hulk and go CRAZY. My temper is explosive in those situations and I have trouble seeing around my rage. Thankfully, it doesn’t get triggered often. But today, I almost lost it. I started shaking when I realized my brother was scared and was ready to yank that kid out of his car and throw down with him, and if I had been in my car with my bat in the trunk, I would have gotten it and had some words. Man, I almost exploded. If we had been anywhere else but in an intersection, walking in front of their car, I would have probably gotten into something. Words at best. But obviously, it was a bad situation that would have turned out really badly if I had reacted.

I know the high road is to always walk away. Bigoted pieces of trash are idiots and obviously, I have and will always have a better life than those guys. I’ve experienced all kinds of senseless injustices either from racism or from people envious of my social status (see: Person Who Shat In the Showers), and it sucks hardcore and makes me rage inside, but when it’s directed at my brother who’s defenseless…it just ain’t right.

Anyway, I’m glad that we walked away. Nothing good was going to come out of that situation. But the saddest thing, is I asked my brother, if I wasn’t around, if he would have gone over to that car. He said, “Well, I wouldn’t if you were there and you told me not to, but if I was by myself, then yes because he told me to.” And that made me scared and really sad. I don’t think they would have physically hurt him. My guess was that the guy was going to spit on him. But Christ. I worry about my brother so much. He’s far too innocent, and people are far too fucked up out there, just looking to outlet sadism and their frustration with life by destroying something pure and beautiful.

I’m angry tonight. I’d like to meet up with those guys in a dark alley somewhere, no cars, just me and them. Okay, and my baseball bat. I’m not completely stupid.

Do You Like Pina Coladas?

Okay, I was just at the gym with my mom and saw they had a Pina Colada smoothie. So I started singing that song to my mom and when I got in the car, it was playing. The universe is synchronized. In this case, I don’t know if it’s a good thing!

So I’m up in the bay area. Came here for the Warriors/Jazz game last night and the Warriors/Clippers game tonight. If ya’ll miss me and want to see me on TV, check out the Clippers game, every time they show the Warriors bench. Our seats are right behind the Warriors bench. First seats, first row. If you see an older Chinese man with a round face and glasses and his arms crossed and looking really serious like he’s part of the coaching staff, look for me right next to him. That’s my dad.

Last night was my first game this season. First game watching Derek Fisher live. When he first got into the game, they called a timeout, so he was standing about 4 feet in front of me in the huddle. That man has GUNS. His arms…are gorgeous. Perfectly chiseled. Oh my God. I have an arms fetish, as exhibited by the period of my life between 10-13 years old when all I would compulsively sculpt was ripped, chiseled arms from shoulders to hands, usually posed in full-flexed glory while arm wrestling (don’t ask…I don’t know either). Anyway, I kept staring at his arms in awe. And then I would notice him noticing so I would look away, and when he looked back down I would stare again. And then he would catch me again and I would look away, and then I would stare again. I felt terrible. But it couldn’t be helped. Damn this Scorpio influence. Revving up my primitive drives. All I want to do these days is objectify men.

The thing I was pissed about last night was that Troy Murphy made an awesome move under the basket to get around Boozer (who’s a monster) and failed to finish with an easy bank-in. Then the crowd booed him. What the fuck, people? This poor kid missed all but 28 games last season, worked his ass off to get back in shape and we booed him. This is why no one likes to play for Golden State. I’ve watched Murph play for years and the guy works hard. He’s probably harder on himself than anyone else. You’ve got these talented players who are lazy and don’t give a fuck. And then you’ve got the guys who work their asses off and become great through sheer willpower and heart. Murph is one of the latter. And then he gets booed by his home crowd when he’s struggling and most needs support. I was pissed. His struggles are psychological. He wants it too badly. He just has to relax and get into his rhythm. And not have his own crowd booing him.

On a different subject, our whole family was in the car last night coming back from the game, and my mom suddenly says, “Your dad wanted me to tell you not to go to clubs by yourself anymore.” I asked her, “When do I go to clubs by myself?” She said, “In Vegas.” So even though my dad was in the car with me, he had my mom pretty much tell me, “Your dad thinks you’re slutty.” And my mom thinks I’m a virgin. They need to combine their two views and find the middle ground because despite my extreme contradictory Gemini projections, that’s about where I sit.

That’s all for now. I woke up this morning and found that Michael had placed a tiny teddy bear (about 4 inches long) by my head to keep me company while I slept. He is the sweetest person in the world.

Have a great weekend, guys!