Between the Warriors miraculous run last year under the slogan, “We Believe,” to Obama’s supporters vocally declaring that they believe, to the trailer for Eli Stone that asks us to believe.
Is everyone believing?
I had a very interesting conversation last night with a fellow Gemini. He kind of creeped up out of nowhere. Well, good for him, he came to tumble.
He thought I’d walked out of work. I told him, no, I resigned. And walked out. But they still want me to come back, and if I do, it would totally make me their bitch. It’s Animal Planet over here. And I don’t want to play anymore.
They’re terrified because my stance is that I don’t care about money. I treat it like shiny things. That I can magically make it appear. I tell my boss it’s not about money. It’s how I measure my success. He asked me in terms of growth where I thought I would be next year. 10%. 15% I said, I don’t know.
He drew a graph, making a box in the middle. If this is the office average, where would you be? AT THE TOP!, I say, like he’s an idiot who just asked me something that should be basic common sense.
This guy totally knows there’s no way he can keep me a secret. And there’s no way I’m shutting up about it now. Where I point my eyes and my passion, I go. I strive to live up to my ambition.
He swears up and down, he’ll build me a portfolio. It’ll be a better deal than any of the other ones he’s given me. We don’t have to go by the numbers.
Dude. You have tricked me for 3 years straight. I’m not falling for it a 4th time, I tell him, pissed off in an earnest kind of way.
No no, this will be the best deal ever. And if you don’t like it after a year, you can quit, he says with a grin.
Oh no, he’s got the upper hand. He knows he’s charmed me.
He lays out the numbers and then lays them out again. He repeats it to me 3 times even when I keep interrupting because I want him to stop. He’s talking in circles. But by the 3rd time, the numbers added up. He tells me he’d be happy to give me the deal I asked for, but it’s not fair to me and he really wants me to accept a deal that’s better. He’s laughing so you want to laugh along and then he asks me about my brother which is a cheap, cheap fucking trick because asking me about my brother is like showing a moron something shiny–I get a big grin and start telling Michael stories. And then he has me.
I make one feeble demand. Well, fine, I say. If I take this deal, then I also get to move to San Francisco and work there part time.
(uhwhat? Where did this come from)
“What??” he said, like someone had just sailed a frisbee through the air.
“One of my life goals is to live part-time in two cities. I used to think Seattle and San Francisco, but now I think I’d like to buy property in San Francisco and LA.”
“You can afford that?”
“Yes.” (bluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuff!!)
His face twists up with surprise. “With what we pay you?”
“Yes.”
“Wow.”
“I’m good with money,” I say.
He won’t budge. “Personally, I would say no, but let me talk to my brother and if he’s okay with it, I’m okay with it.”
C’mon. Even though I’ve met the man, I consider him to be a fictitious character.
We leave on that. You can tell the entire office has been listening at the door. As soon as he leaves, they storm the room. Well, and also because I’ve brought cupcakes. They are laughing. They’re convinced my boss has turned my head inside out and convinced me to stay. He does trick me every year with that carrot and I always bite. One of the guys said he’d almost teared up when he found out but now he knows my boss got to me. Yeah, he probably did. It sounds like a lot of money, I think. I could pay off a lot of my mortgage.
Well, I’m woken up this morning by my phone. No one ever calls my home line. It’s my coworker, my dark other. He’d been away on business all week. Did you hear, I ask him. I wanted to hear it from you, he says. I turned in my resignation yesterday. There’s a heavy silence. Oh man, he says, I guess it was going to happen. It’s the same thing I’ve been thinking a lot about.
Really, I say. I never thought he would seriously leave. We’re all magnetized there.
Well, yeah, he says. So is it final final?
No, he wants to give me a proposal. and I, uh, asked to be able to live in San Francisco part time.
He’ll never let you do that.
Yeah, I know. That’s why I asked.
He groans. The office is gonna be so weird without you.
You’ve gotta be strong though. You’ve gotta do a good job and keep coming up with ideas and projects so that they know it’s not the company that’s doing these things, it’s you. Don’t give anyone any excuse to devalue your worth and your contributions, okay? Make sure everyone stands up and helps each other, because whoever they bring into this company, if they tell them that we’re lazy and we’re disorganized, that’s how he’s going to come in seeing us. If he sees that we’re professional, we’re creating business, we’re strong as a team, they’ll know they can’t mess with that. We’ve gotta do it now. Alright? Get everyone on board.
Your efforts won’t be wasted, he said. What you’ve done, the symbolism of it, it won’t be for nothing. You really went around the office and woke everyone up. Even my brother said, “Julia. Fuckin’ Julia. How did she manage to motivate me into stepping up my game?”
I laugh. These are my fellow salesmen. The ones my boss said he wouldn’t feel comfortable paying me more than, despite my higher numbers.
It’s because we’ve never sat down and had a serious conversation, I tell him.
I truly believe I’m a better person having known you, he says.
And here’s where in memory, I realize something.
I gave him another bit of motivation, about how I’ve been really proud of him and how far he comes and how they’ve stepped up their game to the point of letting people know that we’re in control, not them.
I love you, Julia, he says. He’s never said that before. He’s not really that kind of guy. So I hear it kind of like the way my female friends say it to me.
I keep talking. About fire or something. Was probably feeling awkward.
But in hindsight, I wonder if that was important.
Go to the gym. Listening to music like a drug fiend. Shoot around on the basketball court with my iPod on. My focus is AWFUL, even with the power up. The Kid was there. He’s a fraction friendlier. Can’t tell if he’s on my side of the fence or just shy because I don’t pay a lot of attention to him. So I try to be more attentive this game. I’m playing physical. Why not? Had a Ben Wallace block under the basket. My first ever Ben Wallace block on a guy (it’s not as much fun to do it on a girl). Was pleasantly shocked. His teammates told him that was really embarrassing. He was a nice guy so it didn’t bother him. I liked him for that. Bobby shows up. I swear he’s gotten a haircut and his voice is deeper. Can’t define if there is a correlation. I liked to guard him because he’s easy to mirror. Will choose not to guard him next time because I don’t want to be an irritating bully. I’m a constant trash talker. It’s like Tourette’s. As soon as I’m comfortable with people, my mind can be completely focused on the game but my mouth goes on its own.
Got sad in the middle of the last game. Wow. Afterwards, sat down in corner and put on my iPod. Listening to G’d Up, I like that it’s urban but it’s so emotionally rich. Sums up how I feel. I rebound my ball and just take off with it to the basket at the other end. This sweet kid with cornrows is there so he rebounds for me and lets me shoot around, then we switch off. He airballs the first shot and I pass it back to him. He mumbles something but I can’t hear. What’d you say? “The ball is um…slippery because of sweat on my hands, which is why I missed.” I laugh. “That’s okay.”
They play fullcourt so I go to the other side to shoot. Where the hell is this sadness coming from? It’s like hav
ing a period start in your chest.
I’m listening to Fort Minor. High Road. Heard it for the first time today. This is my theme song.
Focus is terrible. Accuracy is terrible. The oozing sadness is freaking me out.
Bobby comes over later and says they need one more player. I don’t really want to play but there are some types I don’t say no to. I think he asked me how I was. I can’t remember. I’m heartbroken, I tell him.
What? You have heartburn?
I’m heartbroken, I say.
Oh…sorry, he says.
I play another game pretty half-heartedly but still too physical sometimes. I have a physical death wish. I’m all wet with this shit. It’s a physical weight on me and I can’t get my jump shot off. So I leave after that game, shower at the gym (haven’t done that in years) wear my urban rocker stuff and head out. Drive aimlessly. End up on PCH and take an amazing drive along the coast. I’ve never gone this far north. The cliffs are incredible. Stop at a beach to stare at the crashing surf. Someone is flying a kite and I think that would be a good idea. But don’t feel like stopping to buy one. End up in Oxnard. Drive back.
Beautiful.
I want to bring up one point that I can’t get out of my head.
I’ve worked so hard for this company. I’ve had great pride and have done everything possible to make us as professional and successful as possible. I motivate my coworkers because we’re a team and if they want to reach a certain level of success, then they have to be focused. I call up my coworker who my boss dismisses as being lazy because he’s always late, and tell him he NEEDS to start coming in on time, if only so no one can have any excuse to knock his contribution. I check on different departments to see how they’re doing and what we can improve to help them do better, and when they’re overwhelmed, I fight for a way to help them if a system isn’t efficient. I stress teamwork and we’ve built a company with amazing growth despite having absentee management. I’ve always been attentive and responsive to my customers, who have in turn, sought out business opportunities for me as a way to give back. My customers are more than just people who buy from me. They are my network of resources and anything I know or can do to help them, I do, and anything they know or can do that can help me, they do. That’s how you establish a foundation in any given market and build.
I’ve been working 3 positions for this company and refuse to consciously let anything fall through the cracks. I am the entire marketing department, I manage the most accounts including our biggest accounts which our VP used to handle, and I pursue my own accounts. I also run our office vending machine, but I just do that because it makes me happy to feed people.
Yet my boss says that it doesn’t matter how much work I do, the fact is that I’m no more valuable than any other team member so I shouldn’t be paid significantly more, even if it means the amount of money would be more reflective of the amount of work and responsibilities.
But the biggest thing that really gets me is this. When I ask my boss to give me a fair deal after 4 1/2 years of service and loyalty to the company, when I ask him to take away my quota system since I am the only person in the company who is limited by one, when I ask him to let me play on a level playing field so I can be measured for growth in the same way as others even if my capabilities may mean I make more commission, what does it mean when he says this:
“I don’t have a problem with women. The problem is that you like to compete with men.”
You tell me.
Go fuck yourself, thinking I can’t be better than the guys. They already know I am.
Yesterday I resigned from my job in protest. I’m very angry at the narrow-minded powers that be as they’ve undervalued our team. I’m completely heartbroken. I’ve lost my family, I’ve lost all my customers I’ve built strong, warm relationships with. But it was the only way for me to be honorable to my true value.
Do you know what you are truly worth? If you know what you are truly worth, then no one can tell you otherwise.
always be free.
This is how it’s been. Every since my trip to San Francisco, I’ve been unstoppable. The same energy that was moving me last summer was coming through me, completely unapologetic. So I’ve played big, getting into people without trying, making things happen. If I can grab a person through their eyes, it’s like we have this link, and that’s when truthful things happen.
Coming back home, I realized I don’t hate Los Angeles, I’m just bored here. I love my home, I love the area, I love the little pockets I’ve made familiar. I love that I can be a complete stranger. But what I want from it is this–I want it to give me a reason to stay. The biggest issue is that I just don’t have enough connections out here because so many times, I look into someone’s eyes and there’s no one home. “This human is on auto-pilot.” A deserted little control room still in mechanical operation like on Lost.
But then I started thinking, maybe if I put out my energy, I can wake people up. So I’ve been walking around like I’ve got this fire trapped inside my inner-most compartment, just raging to get out and making me highly uncomfortable if I don’t keep expanding. I’ve been telling people how things are, not so much as words, but as realities. And they follow those lines. I’m always mindful that what I project is for their own good, or a positive step towards a collective benefit. Because at the end of the day, that’s the fiber of what I am.
At work I’ve been a little war general. And we’ve got an uprising. But of course, I’ve come to terms that should the movement fail, I will be the one sacrificed. I volunteered myself because I am the only one who can afford it.
So my brain has been completely focused on work, how to structure the exact reality I want there. I haven’t done much in this time outside of working, watching DVDs and going to the gym. Basketball and seeing those weekend morning guys has been a real pleasure and highlight. But outside of that, I limit all of my attention to work and listening to strangers for my next maneuvers.
I was terrified of this WangCon trip. WangCon was basically this amazing Girls-to-Vegas trip some friends of mine went on last year to see Prince. Apparently, it was such a life-changing experience, it was an event that had to be recreated and shared with as many loved ones as possible. So somehow, the idea of a girls’ Vegas trip expanded to the initiation of seeing a wang show. Apparently, some other girls had gone and swore it was funny and interesting.
Personally, I don’t care for strippers. The door opens, you get this cheesy guy who still thinks it’s the 80’s. He brings his own gear bag and a broke-ass stereo. And five minutes later, he’s dancing as 20 middle-aged Asian women go scattering for the corners.
Yes, this was my experience of male strippers from embarrassing family events.
And ever since Sareet came up with the idea that you could get crabs in your eyelashes from twirling wang, I’ve been terrified for my vanity.
But I really had a feeling that no was not an acceptable answer, so even though I hadn’t even been able to make myself pack yet with 3 hours to go before boarding, I had my coworker smoke me out, and I marched over to meet the girls for a trip I truly prayed I survived.
8:30pm Flight to Vegas
I note that it’s a little bit awkward. We’re a tribe without form. It’s like the opening episode of The Amazing Race with the underlying fear that within hours, we may very well want to kill each other.
We meet up with some other girls (no one shall be named). I had booked late (I was all about procrastination with this trip) so I separated from the pack to rows down. I wish I had brought my DVD player but was happy to have my iPod. Been listening to a lot of the Stones, the Animals, classic rock etc. I have noise-cancelling headphones. Still, I heard a woman loudly proclaim, something something “WEINER!” I took off my headphones and turned around. Of course it was someone from our party. I got their attention and said in a very severe tone, “Can you guys just chill it?” I made an open gesture at everyone seated between us. Sareet immediately told everyone to shush. “Thank you.” I said, shaking my head, making eye contact with everyone nodding sympathetically at me and who obviously had no idea I was with the same rowdy group. I whispered to a friend close by…”Just promise you’ll bail me out by Sunday. I’ve gotta be at work Monday morning.”
We were very excited about having ordered a limo which came with a driver who would be bearing the sign, “WangCon.” They wondered what the guy thought about girls coming for something called WangCon, so I said offered to pretend I was a woman named Connie Wang and it was my birthday.
We were very happy with the sign.
I met a girl named Tinkerbell. You would not believe it, but she looked like her name would be Tinkerbell. Guess which one:
We had champagne and our own soundtrack in the limo which included this:
This is now my favorite song.
More later.
So we get to the hotel. Imperial Palace. Seriously, we were begging for adventure. Of course our clerk couldn’t find the group discount on our reservation. She kept saying she would need to call someone but just standing there. We had to repeatedly ask her to make the call. Finally she left and went into the back room. I told Jessie she should have told her, “Mary, why don’t you walk your pretty little self into the back and make that call?” Jessie half heartedly agreed and I said, “No really. You should have said, ‘Mary…why don’t you walk your pretty little self into the back and make that call?’….as you walk your fingers along the counter like little legs.” I showed her. Twice to make sure she understood. “No, I just couldn’t be that mean,” said Jessie, even though she totally thought about it.
We totally waited for Mary for like 15 minutes.
We were abundant with theories:
-maybe she fell asleep?
-maybe she threw up.
-maybe she went on break.
We asked several clerks to check on her. They would all step into the room Mary was in, linger for about a minute, and then come out shrugging and apologizing, “I uh…I don’t know what she’s doing in there. She’s…uh, calling.”
Which made me curious what was going on in that room with Mary that could so confuse and discombobulate fellow coworkers.
Finally I went to the manager, told her that the discount was on this bill, pointing her to the station where we were waiting, then took her over and pointed her to ours, therefore it should be on this bill. they were booked at the same time.
Somewhere in that, it worked. A collective lightbulb went off. It was awesome.
Meanwhile, we’ve lost two WangCon members to anxiously smoking, and another to a warm greeting with a new man she was meeting for the first time from the internet.
No seriously. I just said that. wtf.
Of course, I didn’t know this at the time because I’m a moron. I just think they’re long lost friends meeting up for a reunion who really, really want to have sex.
We check in. I’m with Cody whose flight was delayed so I have the room to myself. I think, I could take a shower, I could take a nap, or I could call my mom and rant about work. Like an addict, I call my mom. SCREAMING all my logical arguments of why I have to quit. Then cut her off because I realize I’m about an hour late for bringing some ice up to the party.
I get lost in the halls. It’s like the Shining in there. Have to ride down to the elevator to recharge with human contact, finally find the room which was two halls up. Girls are getting trashed.
Don disguise. Really, I’m joyous. This is gonna be so much fun.
They want to go to the Stratosphere. Remember when Vegas was my town? I know about the Stratosphere. But they’d heard there was a club with an open bar with 4 dance floors and they were determined to find out. Energetically, the Strastosphere is my evil nemesis.
The bar is awful. Like the set of a high school play, albeit one with great financial backing. Of course there was only one dance floor open, and a lot of stupid, gawking men. One of them farted. I swear he did.
I was pretty rude about it. I hate this place. Sareet wanted to gamble. She asked if it’s rude that we just leave? I say no and damn near drag her out of the club. I don’t remember what we played. But the place sucked the money right out of us. Good thing I let it know I didn’t fucking care. I only brought a little bit.
We went back in and the girls were dancing on the bar. I was amazed they weren’t falling off. Took many pictures as proof of feet. Then sat down and looked only at people’s butts. I was so so sleepy every guy who crept towards me irritated me. Sometimes I’ll simmer glare at a man like I just might eat his head like a tiger. Sometimes it makes me feel guilty when doing this scares someone.
and then between 2:45am and 3:50am as mostly weird lurkers remained-
dear god: these guys are morons. you have spawned morons. are we breaking your heart yet, god? because you’re breaking mine.
and at 3:55am I demanded food and dragged the girls out.
peppermill
i saw the biggest mound of nachos that it actually looked like a cartoon prop. i didn’t get a picture of it because i was scared to look directly at it.
5:30am
stumble and sleep.
11am
woken up by a loud aerobics instructor somehow under our window, followed by 80’s cover band in the cabana below. i tough it out for another hour, determinedly incorporating all these strange sounds into my dream.
12pm
shower. I asked Cody what time it was and her clock was wrong. I was too polite to correct her.
imperial palace
i hate gambling here, too. but i love the dealertainment. i secretly love aretha the best and am terrified of the rod stewart.
i lose. we walk around the strip, they’re gonna play games at planet hollywood, i wanna go to espn zone to shoot some hoops so i leave. truthfully, i kind of wanted to be alone. to be able to step back and see what was going on around me.
walked all the way down, checking out stores and wares and people. Bought a pack of dark peanut m&m’s at the m&m store. when the cashier asked me if i wanted to get 7 for a better deal, i lied and said it was for my blood sugar because i’m diabetic.
ate the whole bag by the time i crossed the street to nyny. hate this place too. love going upstairs at the espn zone.
you want to know which me comes out now? definitely the tiger. i charge up my card and wait until a crowd gathers at the basketball hoops. then i politely ask a guy if he’s next, and he’ll undoubtedly wave for me to go first. then i kill it. sometimes i start off hitting my first seven shots, sometimes i hit 3 out of 4 and then go on an 8 straight tear. i never pay attention because i’m focused on just getting the job over with and then standing back later.
guys don’t know what to do. i challenge some who don’t know me and they think, oh that’s so cute. and then i kill them by 20 pts. some of them get really upset with themselves, so i just tell them, don’t worry. no one’s beat me yet today. it seems to make them feel better. but sometimes they leave wondering if it was an insult.
one guy i sucker punched with a challenge in front of his more fit friend and while he was decent, he got beat by 14. he wanted to play me again so this time, i beat him 44 to 16. it’s okay, i tell him. he’s kind of embarrassed but laughing it off. i start giggling to myself. what? he asks. i think that’s my high score today. he leaves but talks to me later and wants to know where i’m from. i tell him i’m from la but thinking of moving to sf. he says that’s where he is, and wants to know where i would move to. but he’s kind of doofy so it’s not like he isn’t gonna end of hating me. so i say that i don’t know and we play again. okay, i let him win. he needed it. so i tell him afterwards, he’s the first person to beat me today and that makes him happy. he asks me if i know when I’ll know if I’m gonna move. I want to say, “….uh…why? because then i’ll call you to let you know?” but instead, looked caught off guard and then said, “No, sorry.”
i play the boxing game that counts your calories. i’m very good at this game. it’s not that intelligent and i cheat.
as i’m leaving, a guy in his 40’s chases me down the stairs. “I can tell you work out,” he yells as he hurries after me. “You can tell from your arms. And your shoulders.” “Thanks!” i say as I take the last 3 steps in 1 leap and i go for the door.
outside. freedom. still crazy out here. hoof it back to the hotel. talk to michael then my mom. ask her what she’s doing. she says, putting on make-up. i happen to look down at the same time and see an open girlie magazine. the girl was ugly. “eww,” i say looking at the girl. “julia…” my mom says, e
mbarrassed, thinking i was talking to her. “no, mom, you’re beautiful,” i say. she says she has to go and i tell her she can’t because i’m so bored. she puts my grandma on the phone. oooh, triiicky…
fall asleep listening to coldplay’s parachutes which i haven’t listened to since i stopped liking chris martin. wake up and it’s time to get ready for wang.
The underdogs will rise.
Found this on craig’s list. There’s hope again. Let’s be strong and protect it.
what about you
Reply to: [email protected]
Date: 2008-02-26, 4:58PM PSTA
A birth certificate shows that we were born; a death certificate shows that we died; pictures show that we lived!
Relax
read this slowly
I believe – That just because two people argue, it doesn’t mean they don’t love each other. And just because they don’t argue, it doesn’t mean they do.
I believe – That we don’t have to change friends if we understand that friends change.
I believe – That no matter how good a friend is, they’re going to hurt you every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.
I believe – That true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. Same goes for true love.
I believe – That you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.
I believe – That it’s taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.
I believe – That you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.
I believe – That you can keep going long after you think you can’t.
I believe – That we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.
I believe – That either you control your attitude or it controls you.
I believe – That heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.
I believe – That money is a lousy way of keeping score.
I believe – That sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you’re down will be the ones to help you get back up.
I believe – That sometimes when I’m angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn’t give me the right to be cruel.
I believe – That maturity has more to do with what types of experiences you’ve had and what you’ve learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays you’ve celebrated.
I believe – That it isn’t always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.
I believe – That no matter how bad your heart is broken, the world doesn’t stop for your grief.
I believe – That our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.
I believe – Two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.
I believe – That your life can be changed in a matter of hours by people who don’t even know you.
I believe – That even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you – you will find the strength to help.
I believe – That credentials on the wall do not make you a good human being.
I believe – That the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.
I believe – The happiest people don’t necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the best of everything they have.
Just got back from WangCon. I guess it makes more sense that it’s WangCon not WangCom, though the Asians like to turn that n into an m.
I do not have the mental capacity to recap right now. I’ve been up until between 5am and 7am the last few nights, mostly against my will. I’m convinced that these girls will kill anyone who shows weakness, particularly when faced with wang.
But I will tell you this, since I just can’t get over it.
First of all, no one told me this club was FULL FRONTAL.
At least, not until I was on the goddam shuttle to the wang club.
Second of all, no one told me it was a Brutha Club. I figured I was over black wang. You should never take an alcoholic to a liquor store. I’m just saying, there’s a reason I practice abstinence. I can not trust myself around naked men. These guys were built. I’ve never seen a 12+ inch wang in person, but there it was.
Third, and most concerning, NO ONE TOLD ME THESE GUYS ASSAULT AT WILL.
I was promised a seat in the back, which turned out to be a seat in the 2nd row. My first inkling that I was not safe, was when one of the strippers grabbed my friend two seats down, and basically hung her around his neck and bopped her against his crotch across the room. I should also tell you that this guy was about 5’4, and my friend is 5’9.
My second inkling, was when the next stripper climbed onto the chair that my friend in front of me was sitting in, and ran the head of his penis from her neck to her rosy, rosy bosoms.
I’ll write a full recap some other time when I have more brain cells and when I have digested the whirlwind that was this weekend, but let me tell you, I’ve decided that I’ve never had good sex. If a man can 69 you while doing a headstand on the edge of the chair you’re sitting in, then you know you’ve had good sex.
Also, I witnessed a teabag ownage. I’m not afraid of the devil, but I am afraid of getting owned by a teabag to the face.
WangCom
What? That’s right.
WangCom.
As in, Wang Convention.
That’s 13 girls mostly born and bred in the midwest where drinking started with whiskey when they teethed, will test the gods of Alcohol Tolerance as they terrorize a wang club. This will be one of those trips where the universe will regret not having sent a camera crew. I’ve got about $60 in ones that I plan to distribute to the girls in hopes of buying leniency. I’m terrified that may not be enough.
I am praying for strength and a wicked sense of humor to survive this weekend. And if I can get away with it, wang that isn’t covered in baby oil.
The evil twin is just an electrical little imp.
This is what happened at the gym.
To preface, this guy I’ve caught watching me for months now showed up and played on Saturday. I was surprised because he’s never confronted me. We’ve always just remained aware of each other on the peripheral with no attempt at contact. He was kind of walking into my territory.
So here’s the thing that surprised me. He was such a little bitch. He kept falling down and refusing to get up. I offered my hand once and he wouldn’t take it. C’mon, I’ll help you up, I said with my hand extended. No, I’m 30, I’m old, he said. I waved him off and said, Whatever. But he kept falling down and refusing to get up because he was old. Finally, I told him that I’m 30, (pointed to B), He’s 30, (pointed to another guy), He’s 30. You don’t see any of us on the ground.
He tried to play harder the rest of the game, more aggressive. I drove to the basket at one point and crashed into someone, coming down on their foot. Something I’ve found to always work with injuries is…Ignore Them. At least at first. Like refuse the existence of this reality. So I got up and walked it off, willing it from a bad ankle sprain to a tweak. Well, whatever he thinks he saw, he’s fixated on. He keeps asking people if they saw how fast I got up. It was the last thing he asked me that day, and then the FIRST thing he asked me the next day when I saw him. How did you get up so fast, he asked. Pain’s mental, I told him. Unless something’s really not working, pain, fear….they’re all mental. So he insisted that I play and that he had to guard me. I posted up on him my first play and he flopped like I’d bashed him in the balls. Don’t act like your dick is so big I couldn’t miss it, I said to him, helping him up. His eyes go wide, that little faker. Who says something like that????, he yells. But no one’s heard it but him. In my heart I am snickering.
Next play he gets the ball but he’s afraid to shoot. He waves it above his head so I just knock it out of his hands, not being afraid to crash into his body a little. Who does that??? he screams. I kind of want to laugh at how easy he’s being, but I just say, very seriously, You should think about playing a little defense. Pass the ball upcourt. Take off.
We score and we come back and he can’t get open. His guy shoots, misses, rebound collected in a battle of big vs big. I set up left wing. My poor little guy doesn’t know that my driveway allowed me only a single angle of left wing jump shots to help me waste away my childhood. Meaning– I can be deadly there if I’m feeling evil enough. And man was I feeling evil. I hit one over him. Next time down. I stopped and popped at the 3 point line, shooting over him as he jumped for the block. Went in sweet like Kobe. There’s a collective, Whoa. His teammate runs by him. She’s making you look real bad, he says, not altogether joking. Well, at least he’s honest, I tell him as I shrug innocently and jog downcourt. Secretly, I know I’m really not usually this good. I’m playing particularly inspired today. But I realize the universe has somehow given me free reign against this guy.
Our team won both games against his. At some point, every time I went near him in the post, he resorted to announcing that if we were in 3rd grade, he would think I liked him. As adults, I think you’re projecting, I told him. After the game, I left abruptly to do cardio and watch my Desperate Housewives DVD. While on the elliptical machine, I noticed something. Somehow, the evil imp in me was so inspired by messing with him, the energy must have made me more noticeable. I’m usually for the most part ignored by the guys. It probably goes both ways, because I usually completely ignore them. But while on the machine, every guy who had been on my team came over to chat with me and find out what I was watching. One guy even had to circle twice before having the nerve to introduce himself. It was funny because it’s like we’d been to battle together, yet after the fact, we were so shy and awkward with each other. Interesting.
Meanwhile, my shadow has followed me into the cardio room. Little does he know, I “listen” to my DVDs more than I watch because I’m usually watching people. Especially people who are so obviously watching me. So this is what I saw him do.
1. He left the basketball courts, looked around, then proceeded to the weight room. Saw me, walked by in front of me into the locker room.
2. Comes out of the locker room, stands close to me, fiddles with his phone, goes back into the locker room.
3. Comes out of the locker room, has his jacket on and walks by. I pretended I didn’t notice.
4. He walks by again. I smile and he comes up and asks me how I can still be going. I say, Because I’m a robot. That’s why Asians are so smart. (This making up shit on the fly to see if people will accept what I say if I’m very serious about it. It’s out of control). He’s caught off guard so he says, I know a lot of Asians who aren’t smart. Well I’m not one of them, I say. He laughs while backpedaling into the locker room. There are definitely Asians who aren’t smart he says. I’ve even dated a few of them. I roll my eyes and ignore him. Wait, didn’t he just come OUT of the locker room?
5. He walks by again, not wearing his jacket. He fiddles with his phone, then watches the TV close to me. He catches my eye, then comes up and asks, What are you watching? Desperative Housewives, I say. Now I’ve seen everything, he exclaims, but I have no idea what he means by that. Why do you watch it?, he asked. What is he, a Pisces? Maybe I finally get to kick a Pisces’ ass. Because it’s funny, and people kill each other on the show but it’s supposed to be funny. Like Stepford Wives. He looks at me blankly. Abruptly walks away. INTO the locker room. Someone tell me, what is IN the locker room that forces this man to continually go there to recharge?
6. I switch to a bike after 50 minutes on the elliptical. I see him walking back and forth in the machine row in front of me, and then he fiddles with his phone right next to me for a while. I ignore him the entire time though I’m kind of giggling inside as I watch him. Then he goes to the weight area right in front of me, and lifts up his shirt to check his abs (full-flexed), checking to see if I saw. Of course I was at that moment, strategically drinking from my water bottle so from his angle, he couldn’t tell where my eyes were. He walked around aimlessly, said hi to the guy next to me, then got on the elliptical machine behind me. So I stayed on the bike for as long as possible to test his stamina, then beelined from the locker room to the parking lot to make a clean get away. Didn’t want him trying to catch up with me.
*****
I went to the gym today with a lot on my mind. I had forgotten all about this. I decided I was going to play fullcourt, which I’m doing a lot more lately. Before, I would be afraid of getting hurt but I figured I wouldn’t play too hard. Just for the opportunity to run and feel agile. I was standing at entrance of the court, when someone walked up and said hi to me.
It was this short, quiet guy who I always thought was kind of a dick. I don’t really know him but he just doesn’t smile. And he’s never said a word to me even though I’ve said hi. Guys like these…I just assume they hate me, just so there’s no wondering. So yeah I know, a lot of it is just in my head.
So I say hi, and he says, I can’t really play today because I don’t have the right shoes on. He’s got really nice running shoes on. What does that say about me that I get turned on by athletic gear? I say, I’m not wearing the right shoes either, even though in my mind I know I have the same shoe style I play basketball in but these I only wear if I’m only doing cardio because I like how they’re so clean. Is this what it feels like to be a Virgo in love?
You’re very good, I say. I like watching you play. He
mumbles something. We stand there and I forget he’s there. I’m wondering if the guy on the other side of the court that I’m going to be teammates with is a dick. Yeah, he kind of looks like he’s gonna be. Suddenly, the quiet guy touches my arm and I look over. See you later, he says, smiling. I was tweaked for a moment. That guy smiled. I’ve never seen him smile. And I’ve made some warm, quirky attempts.
I decide I have at least 10 more minutes so I go outside to see if I can get a cardio machine to warm up. I see he’s waiting for a machine, stretching. Part of me felt like it was okay to go talk to him. Part of me is SCARED OF HIM. So I kind of get caught in a jamble of limbs and misdirection. I don’t know if he saw me make that abrupt u-turn away from him, but I retreat back into the basketball court to wait my turn.
I played but not very hard because I really didn’t want to get hurt. My foot was bothering me but I did score one basket and annoy the hell out of my defender with a game of cat & mouse (cuz let’s be serious, those afternoon ballers don’t pass to me). There were times when he would be at the top of the key looking around, and I’d be hiding in a corner, feet set for an easy basket should my teammates realize I’m on their team. It was definitely fun and I didn’t care about getting touches. I also got to know this sweet kid who had a tattoo of the Ace of Wands. I ask him, what are you, a Leo or Aries? He said, my mom gave me the symbol of the Ace of Wands because I used to get in a lot of trouble. Ace of Wands means having a lot of inner fire, but using it creatively, I say. Yeah!, he smiles. We share a nice little moment. I’m the Princess of Swords, I say. We shake hands. For the rest of the games, we have great chemistry.
Somewhere into the second game, my Shadow walks in. I see him and nod hello. The strange thing is he’s with his doofus friend and the little, quiet guy from earlier. I didn’t realize they knew each other. They formed a little cheering section for me, yelling, Give it to the girl! and him commenting to everyone, Did you see that?…every time I got myself open. After the last game, I was kind of pissed off at my teammates for not moving the ball better and for spending so much time arguing (one more fight broke out). I was shooting by myself and the three guys come up. And they’re all hitting on me. What did this guy need, reinforcements? They’re joking that I should stick to my outside shot and that I’m too young to drive. The guy wants me to guard him and I do it half-heartedly. The quiet guy, who’s strangely jovial, pretends he’s going to walk off with my ball. wtf? Circle jerk. So when the full court game started, I had to rebound the ball to get it back and walked out. They all followed me out, and I stopped because it looked like they wanted to talk to me, but then decided to do it after I got my stuff from the locker room. I actually wanted to talk to the little guy to feel out his vibe. He had caught me off guard today, and I want to know why. But when I came out, he was gone but my Shadow and his buddy were there. His friend said something to me that I didn’t even bother translating to my brain. He’s kind of a snarky idiot. As I was choosing a bike, this black guy walked up. Strangely, he looked just like this guy I dreamed about 3 nights ago but just not as intelligent (in my dream, he was in a park around Stanford and he was radiant. But of course, this was probably because I have such a Stanford fetish). He wanted to introduce himself and get to know me. My Shadow walks by and then loudly came over and shook the guy’s hand saying, what’s up. I didn’t even look at him. I talked to the new guy for a bit. We were talking about attention span and he wanted to know if I’d gone to school and finished. So I said yeah, two degrees in three years. I rushed to finish before I got bored. He asked me if I was taking drugs to be able to do that. I said no, and then politely excused myself. I rode the bike and as usual, my Shadow appeared, standing 3 feet away from me and diddling with his phone and pretending to watch TV. Of course, I pretended not to notice.
He retreated to the elliptical behind me. I slipped out like I did the night before, careful to make sure I wasn’t being followed.
Came home. Confused. Tired. Lonely. The imp has abandoned me. Body looks great. Insides feel robotic. Tired of games. Why don’t most guys talk to me like a normal person? Help me put my defenses down. Come up and be straight with me and be yourself. Just be nice and open without all the sarcasm, because then we’re just going to spar. It’s like sometimes people seem so into trying to compete with me or dominate me or impress me by being something else, that I’m terrified of showing them the shy, sensitive side of myself because I’m afraid they’ll eat it. And that’s the best side. I feel like if they found out that I was shy, they would see it as a weakness. So then is it better that most people don’t believe it anyway? But when I meet someone real who’s willing to talk like human beings and it’s not all that bullshit, I really appreciate it, even if it’s platonic.
I’m really just looking for someone trustworthy who I can relax and be myself around. At the end of the day, just that.
The problem with going about things alone is that you go about them alone. You don’t have frame-of-references or reality checks. Only the slight satisfaction of seeing when things work out.
I don’t know what happened today. I took a big risk. I took a really big risk. It felt good. I was fired up. But this is where life can stab me. I’m going to say, don’t worry. Either way, whatever happens, it will be the right thing.
Tomorrow may just be the first day of the rest of my life.
I live a pretty chill secret life. All I need is some good music, some trust in my iTunes shuffle, a fire going in the fireplace as I sit in the dark, and a whole night free for stream of consciousness as inspired by music.
Now playing: Silent Treatment – The Roots
I went out dancing tonight. Told Brian I was going to see There Will Be Blood but when I got to the theater, I just couldn’t make myself park my car. So I made a u-turn and went to Zanzibar, which is really where I wanted to go tonight. They spin hip hop, funk, r&b and house on Sundays, and I’ve been trying to make it out for years. Had a Kurant/tonic and people watched for a bit. Met a guy named David who wanted to dance. Lied and said I’d sprained my ankle playing basketball. Word?, he said. How’d you do it? I dunked on someone, I said. He wanted me to dance with him but I was friendly but kind of ignored him. He introduced me to his friends. They stood around me and I realized it made me look like I’d shown up with a big black entourage. I excused myself to get another drink. White guys have no rhythm but I still have this urge to gun for them. One guy looked like Chris Evans. I was down. Had a moment at the bar, then danced on my own. Caught him eyeing me but looked like the type who needs liquid courage. Meanwhile, turned down a brutha who claimed he’d seen me 2 weeks ago at Firecracker. In fact, I was at Firecracker. But he couldn’t pin down what I was wearing so I accused him of not being able to tell Asian girls apart. He said he could then said, “You’re mixed, right?” No, I say. I’m full. He thinks. “Korean?” Nope, I say. That’s 3 strikes…you’re out. I really just wanted to dance by myself so I turned him down politely again and danced on my own. Dumb white guy came up. Asked me what my name was. I told him I didn’t remember. He asked me, how cute are you. What’s the rating system, I asked. A good one, he said. How cute are you? You already asked me that, I said. Where are you from?, he asked. Everywhere, I said. He looked at me blankly. How cute are you, he says. Go away, I say.
I stay for about an hour dancing with myself. Guys are looking and for the most part, they left me alone. I wanted to stay longer but I figured, let’s leave on a good note. So I headed out, head buzzing with a successful night out.
Now playing: Rock you – Roots
I don’t know what to do. I recognize that I’d have to sacrifice certain things if I want to be more engaged with people. But I really love my time alone. That’s when a lot of incredible things happen. I love kicking down walls. I have always been naughty at heart.
Now playing: Like I Love You – Justin Timberlake
It’s time I get back to writing. I realized last night, I do not work for a producer. The producer works for me. That’s the relationship that I need because in the end, I need to be the decisionmaker.
Now playing: Reptile – NIN
I wouldn’t mind being a robot, living in some converted warehouse loft downtown with exposed electrical wiring. I would just host parties with the craziest people I could manage to gather in one room. I would give them lots of drugs and then watch them duke it out. I wouldn’t be scared of the sheer collective insanity of these parties because I would be a robot. So nothing penetrates me. But if Marilyn Manson showed up, I would call him a dork. I would call him a big dork poser, and he would probably cry, because he’s really not that confident in himself.
Now playing: She Wants to Move – N.E.R.D.
I like to dance alone because it’s hard for me to find good dance partners that I feel comfortable enough with to sync up. And I love watching good dancers. One thing I hate about Clippers games is their dance team. They’re like a JV team and inevitably every game, there will be at least one girl who goes the wrong way. I love it.
Now playing: Queer – Garbage
Oh, this song. I always said this is my stripper song. It tickles something inside of me that just feels so diiiiirty. I’m sure there are all kinds of implications if you psychoanalyze it, but I’ve offered it up many times as a theory and at the end of the day, if you get involved it means you’re dirty, too….so why not. This song is second on this album only to Milk. I think I’ve probably logged hundreds of hours my senior year of high school with this album playing on my computer as I chatted with strangers online. That was a weird period of my life. I don’t know how someone could be so simultaneously naive and such an asshole. Gemini’s, I guess. “You can touch me if you want…”
Now playing: Last Girl on Earth – Supreme Beings of Leisure
Why did I rush through college the way I did? I was really frustrated. My family was falling apart and there was so much drama I had to come back and handle it. And then that whole thing with that guy who wasn’t worth it, and my needing to prove to the assholes on the newspaper that I was smarter than them. Man, I was so emotional back then. So I made that decision. I would definitely have wished I were as chill as I am now back then. I think I would have had a lot more fun and really gained confidence in my capabilities. But you know…you make it work. Every decision in life, you make it work. Because there’s no alternative. There was definitely a different energy in my house five years ago than now. I’ve gotta work on the arrangement to ease the energy so it’s a chill place again.
Now playing: The New Polution – Beck
I listened to this album so much my freshman year in college. I remember coming home for the holidays and finding out Beck was playing with the Eels and some other people in this ensemble concert, so I didn’t even know where the Cow Palace was, but I got in my car, started driving and found it. I always had that knack. I had never attended concerts alone before that and it was really cool. I enjoyed the music, and the fact I was having this amazing experience that no one else knew about. I got an autograph on a postcard from E from the Eels, but in the mess of the dance floor, I dropped it. It didn’t really matter to me, though. Beck was insane, with his white sequined jumpsuit and crazy bass player. It didn’t occur to me until the drive home that it might have been dangerous to have driven so far to go to a concert by myself without telling anyone. I guess I’m like that. The sense of adventure outweighs any fears.
Now playing: Dream Machine – Mark Farina
I fare so much better when I’m out of town. I’m much more social and open. I wonder if it has to do with feeling so out of place in LA, so I feel very self-conscious. I wonder if I’ll fare better moving to the bay area, or I’ll find out I’m just as shy up there as I am here or anywhere. How the hell can I be so outgoing and yet, so shy? Engage me in conversation and I’m the brightest, most excited person there. But try to get to know me and it’s a stumbling retreat. I’m just so careful in choosing the people I let get close to me.
Now playing: Tone 10 – Takumi Kato
This song is boring.
Now playing: Blisters On My Brain – Lo-Fidelity Allstars
I’ve been trying to cuss less. I recognize it’s passive aggressive and something I developed since being frustrated with work. It’s a bad habit though.
Now playing: Six Feet Under Main Theme – Photek
One of the best shows ever. It taught me a lot about life and relating to others. Fantastic production and acting. Introduced me to Sia’s solo work.
Now playing: Your Ghost – Kristin Hersh
The ghost story I was writing…I never finished it. I just kept getting scared going there. Until I had an even scarier ghost dream. Maybe that world will seem safer now.
cool thing i noticed this week. a lot of people i saw were glowing. like their skin looked good, their eyes looked bright…they were happy. or maybe they got laid. maybe they always look like that and i haven’t noticed it before, but because i was so aware of my happiness this week, i was able to notice it in other people. good for them.
this month, every day has been a new experience, in that something new happens every day. small discoveries that shock me when i realize they’ve been there all along but i’ve never noticed. old acquaintances who suddenly seem new. i see all these little sparks of recognition everywhere. maybe that’s what february is about. sparks of life. hope. a change in direction. meaning march is gonna be a moody little fella, but he’s going to have a lot to say.
Valentine’s Day (as an adult)
Today I experienced Valentine’s Day as someone committed to work. I came into work ready to take charge, and I whipped that motherfucker into shape. I took care of my people, couldn’t stand to see them so unhappy and I’m about to start making demands. I know I’ve been so wary of the attention that being the leader gets, mostly because I was always getting in trouble for inciting groups of kids into noisy, rampaging games. But last night I realized, I’m the only one who has the courage in me to stand up and demand changes, starting with myself. If this company is serious about competing, then let’s shape up and compete, because this is what I live for. So I’ve taken it upon myself to commit myself and my unique abilities to work right now to see just what I’m capable of. I think with permission, I can get these people to believe.
Then I went home, picking up a pizza on the way, relishing in the fact that tonight I was that 20-something solitary executive woman that I’d always fantasized about as a kid, taking home a cardboard meal over which she contemplates lofty world-changing professional decisions while never noticing the growing splinter of loneliness growing in her stomach. But the only difference is that I always imagined this girl living in Seattle.
Maybe she does. She’s pretty hot.
*****
I had a late night talk with someone a few nights ago. He described me as this plant that sat quietly in the corner and shriveled up, but when everyone forgot about it, the plant secretly moved itself outside. And all of a sudden, there’s this huge, wild rose plant growing out in the middle of the woods, and it’s so amazing and beautiful, but there’s huge thorns on it and no one has any idea how to touch it because it won’t let them.
He keeps talking about how people want to touch the flowers, take them home and put them in a nice vase in their house, but I know what he means.
I told him, I don’t think of it as much like a plant that died, but like a butterfly. I had to turn myself into a ghost for a little while because I was changing and growing bigger, and I couldn’t do it close to anyone who was clinging to the old me. And now, I’ve learned how to fly and I never want to let anyone take that away from me.
He’s upset that I won’t let him get close to me, that he’s never done me wrong but I still won’t trust him. I told him it’s like this. Imagine that you live in a tiny village somewhere, and you’ve never seen a rainbow before. So you’re out in the woods one day picking firewood, and all of a sudden, you come into a clearing and see this massive rainbow in the distance, disappearing over a misty cliff. It’s breathtaking. You’re so awed by it, you’re convinced this is not only a miracle, but the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen and you ever will see. This, this is magic.
Now imagine you go back to your village, and you’re afraid to tell anyone about it because you’re convinced that no one will believe you. So you go through life looking and looking for that one person you can trust, that one person you can take to see the rainbow, who won’t look at it and say, that’s nothing…that’s just a phenomenon of science…that’s just not real. But you search until you know deep down for sure that you’ve found him, someone who will look at the rainbow and also experience the same kind of awe and understanding that you had experienced, that same kind of momentary euphoria because you’re convinced you have found actual proof of magic.
So he’s upset that I don’t trust him yet, but trust is not something you say. It’s something you know, and as long as I know he’ll try to touch me and distract me when my guard’s down, I know I’ll never be able to show him what it is I know. So I tell him. You give too much power to immature fantasies. As long as you think that the world only has enough success for a few people, that in order for you to win, others must lose, you’re not a person I can talk with. But I did admit when I was too hard hard on him sometimes. Sometimes I don’t acknowledge his progress because the moment you think you’re good enough and get comfortable celebrating that, that’s when you stop your growth towards fulfilling your potential. But I let him know that I actualy have noticed his progress and I promised to be more open about acknowledging his big wins. He says that I’ve taught him a lot. I say, yeah, whatever. Because this is how it always ends.
Because as always, tomorrow, he’ll be acting like an adversary, like we’re of different species and men really are complete bores, and I’ll become exasperated and ignore him for days. Because in the daytime, he doesn’t want anyone to know that we’re “the same” like he says. He doesn’t want people to know about our “special connection.” He hates to think he’s not the only one I talk to about the things I experience. He wants to know who else is around me but I always remain silent on this.
The same. They always say that. We’re the same. And they don’t want that to change.
But really, how hard is it to understand someone enough to mirror his personality so that he falls in love with his own image? It just takes practice, wouldn’t you say?
*****
You can be a coward about the little things, but not about the things that count.
Do not lose the forest because of the trees, but do not lose the trees because of the forest.
The world is circular to give us chances to redo the things we did equipped with the knowledge from the previous times around. So keep your eyes open for clues and try to learn from your mistakes. And for fun, watch for familiar faces within strangers.
Keep thinking that there’s more to this, that there’s more yet that we’ll discover. There are infinite possibilities. We’re going to find a way out of this.
I Found My Heart in San Francisco
From time to time, I travel to different cities to attend trade shows for work. Our biggest trade show of the year is this automotive trade show held in San Francisco this year. I’ve never been to this show and was booked to attend last year, but I ended up going to the Super Bowl instead. Usually, trade shows evoke mixed feelings. On one hand, I get to travel to a different city, and I get a per diem. On the hand, I have to attend a trade show. This means aching feet, married middle-aged midwesterners staring at my chest and the millions of millions of chances that someone stumps me with a technical question and I faint from sheer discombobulation while I spin frantically trying to pull an answer out of my ass. Sometimes I wish I had the power to instantly distract people with something shiny. This tactic certainly works on me.
In terms of this show, most of my major clients are in the automotive industry so I talk to these people on a weekly basis. I’ve never met most of them, so I try to imagine how they look in my head when I’m on the phone with them…a gravelly voice with a slow Texan accent I see as Colonel Sanders. The impatient, cold voice I see as a wall street type with dead eyes, and the warm, cute voices I think of as a suit with a blindspot where the head is, because I imagine these guys being the kind of guys who, if I looked over and saw them in a crowded bar, they would take my breath away. I don’t know what this kind of guy would look like, so I leave it up to discovery.
I was more excited than usual about this trade show because I was about to finally meet these people and find out who these people really are, the faces behind the curtain. There were a few clients that I have particular warm feelings towards, so I was really excited to finally meet them.
I flew in to San Jose a day early so I could go to the Warriors game with my family. They lost to the Bulls who were short Hinrich, Deng and Gordon, which was unbelievably disappointing. This was also Webber’s debut, and knowing this, Baron’s first play was a lob pass to Webber ahead of the “fast” break. My God. If that man wasn’t moving in slow motion, then I must be smoking crack. He looked shocked that he suddenly had the ball in his hands, and even more shocked that he was ahead of the break, meaning he had the sole responsibility of delivering the ball into the hoop. Like a first-day participant of fat camp, he laboriously stomped his way to the basket and missed the lay up. The entire stadium was really hoping he would be some sort of answer. After the game, the commentators were saying that it’s going to take a few games for Webber to adjust to the team so we couldn’t judge him based on tonight’s performance. I think there’s a lot of hope in this city, and we really want to see this signing work, no matter what the facts might turn out to be. Let’s hope for both parties (the team/fans and Webber), it works out.
The next day, I had to get up early to take Michael to work and then head out to the convention center. He came and woke me up and I asked for ten more minutes. He came back after he ate breakfast and I asked for ten more minutes. He came back after he was showered and ready to go, and I asked for 10 more minutes. He said, “Julia, I’m late for work. Dad’s gone. Mom’s gone. You’re my last hope.” He said it so earnestly. I laughed and told him, “Then I better get up and take you to work!”
I dropped him off and was sad to do it. It’s always so hard to say goodbye to Michael. I headed out to SF, picked up my coworker, and we set out to the convention center to set up the booth. I’ll tell you, I hate setting up the booth, and I hate tearing it down. It stresses me out.
I checked into the hotel and headed back home for a Chinese New Year’s dinner with my family. Okay, amendment. I was supposed to have taken BART home and picked Michael up at the gym, but I got sidetracked by my discovery of H&M’s, and spent an hour shopping, only to realize Michael was stranded at the gym. Jesus, I’m such a negligent person sometimes.
We had dinner at my aunt’s house and the highlight of the night was explaining a Blame the Dog t-shirt with a picture of a dog and a mushroom cloud coming out of its ass, to my 5 year old and 3 year old cousins. They now know how to say fart in Chinese which cracks them up to no end.
I had to take Bart back to SF in the middle of the night, getting in shortly before 1am. Looked at the show schedule, realized I had to be up by 5:45 am. Was miserable.
Day One.
At the King George Hotel in Union Square, they sometimes might offer you hot water for your showers. After taking a lukewarm to cool shower, I told the front desk and the guy looked at me and said sheepishly, “Hmm…well, ah…I don’t know. I think we should have hot water today.” Are there some days without hot water? I chalk it up to the mercury retrograde and head out to the show.
Our booth neighbors:
Directly across from us is a guy who looks like Phil Hartman with 20 more years of heavy drinking. He tried to get people into his booth like a circus barker. Yelling flirtatious nonsensical things at passing attendees, telling them that he wanted to tell them a secret, etc. He was kind of annoying but kind of captivating like a fender bender on the freeway that you’re pissed at for blocking up traffic but which you’ll still gawk at. The funniest thing was, the one time he actually got someone in his booth and was doing his sales pitch, we accidentally sent a miniature Nerf football flying into his booth, right between him and his customer. We were horrified. Amazingly, he didn’t miss a beat and continued the pitch. I think we could have bounced it off his head and he wouldn’t have noticed. He was an intense salesman who had lured the lamb to his lair.
Next to him was a father-daughter combo selling logo-ed teddy bears. We thought she was 7. I saw her drinking coffee and I almost wanted to go over and say in a trust me because I’m an adult and have the right to patronize tone, “A young girl like you shouldn’t drink coffee.” But later we found out she’s actully in her 20’s. And that God told her that her life purpose was not to sell teddy bears, but to work with orphaned children in China.
Next to us was a software company out of Orange County and they were cool. A tall brutha in that booth had a thing for me, so he spent a lot of time staring and making conversation. My coworker thought a girl in their booth was hot, and the two were trying to orchestrate a trade to trade me for her. I got mad about it. You better at least be getting an All-Star and a lottery pick for me. It better not be a freaking expiring contract.
The first day was busy, and our entire executive team was there to take some potential investors around to meet our customers. I wanted to go with my boss to meet my customers but he said I had to stay with the booth. I felt like I had been brought to Disneyland, but told to stay in the car. I was pissed. Later, I found out from a customer that they basically ambushed him and told him that we had investors and to tell them what they loved about us. My customer was joking and nice about it, but he said he felt totally put on the spot but he did a good job of covering and saying that everything was working and great. I think he said some nice things about me because the investor came up to me and said he was very impressed because everywhere he went, when they asked who their account manager was, they all said it was me, and they all seemed to love me. That was amazingly validating.
I had to stay with the booth for most of the day, though we did have lunch at California Pizza Kitchen where a random woman next to me regaled me with stories about an amazing dinner party she once attended in Aspen with the founders of CPK. She even insisted I take a sip out of her sangria. It was kin
d of weird, but also kind of comfortable.
I met one of my customers who I knew is a young guy who went to U. of M. Once we had found this out a few years ago, I had actually googled him and found an old college website of his, so I knew what he looked like. It was great to meet him and he even gave me a hug and said he felt like we’d known each other for a long time. I was a little intimidated because he’s very smart and technical. So of course, I got shy.
My mom, Michael and Jason met me at the convention center after the show and we took Bart to the Oracle to see the Warriors play the Kings. Two great things happened. 1. This obnoxious Kings fan next to us got so excited about a play, he accidentally poured his beer on a coach’s head. I looked over and the guy’s back was all wet and his hair matted with beer. He looked like he might jump up and murder this guy once the shock passed. Then he screamed at the guy something about putting the beer away you damn fucking lush. They made up later, but here’s the way I see it. If you showed up to work like every other day, and you’re wearing a nice suit. You’re going about your day, minding your own business and out of nowhere, you suddenly get doused on the head with cold beer…yeah, you’d be a little surprised and pissed.
2. This girl stole one of the player’s Gatorade from the bin behind the bench, and the same coach told her to come back and return it. She turned around like she didn’t know what he was talking about, then dropped it and the whole thing broke, sending a river of Gatorade cascading down the steps. She was really obnoxious. They threw her out, and she wouldn’t go, grabbing on to seats, and doing this jellyfish act. She seemed drunk at first, but then we realized she was probably on X, because she was touching everything and everyone on her way out, even made a grab for the players. Really messed up fans tonight.
I get back. Can’t find my coworker so I just go out. Head to that one bar with the giant Tiki God. Had a $7 Blue Hawaiian. Can’t believe how much less expensive drinks are out here. Hate the crowd. Head to Kell’s which I have had great experiences in and I wanted to see if it’s as good as I remember. On the way, had a homeless man tell me I’m beautiful and if I wanted to go back to his house. You’ll love it, he says. It’s outside.
Kell’s is packed and have a couple of vodka tonics ($7 again! Unbelievable). Met a young Asian guy who wanted to turn pro as a surfer. He was kind of purposely laidback to the point of being obnoxious. He came up and started a conversation but then I turned him down when he asked me to dance (I just didn’t want to dance with HIM). Later, we ran into each other and chatted, and he told me it’s too bad we have nothing in common, because I’m focused on work and he’s focused on life. I’m sorry…what? He got all that from my saying that I’m in town for work?
This other Asian guy had been following me around and I kept evading him because I didn’t want him to talk to me. He caught me when I sat down, and his pick up went like this. He said he wanted to ask me a questions, and one question only. He said he wanted to know what I thought of a guy who still had a picture of his ex, becuase his friend’s girlfriend was uncomfortable about it. I asked him where his friend kept the picture and he said, in a photo album. I said, so what’s the problem? He said that she was really jealous about it and his friend didn’t know what he should do. I told him, I think your friend should be an adult and figure out his own problems. The guy was talking to me but he was dumb. Really aggressive but dumb. I even got up and tried to ditch him by talking to other people, but he would just be aggressive towards them because he didn’t want them to be cooler than him. I decided I wanted to go home, so I told him I was leaving, but he wanted to walk me out. I said I was okay, but he insisted on leaving with me. So I just told him, I have a boyfriend. He said, well, is he here? If not, what’s the problem. I said, “He’s black. And he’s angry.” I turned my head and the guy was gone.
Day Two
I woke up excited. Today I was going to meet my clients. In particular, there was one client I wanted to meet because I’d been working closely with him, and I liked the sound of his voice. He sounded really cute and we had an easy, fun relationship. I had asked my coworker who visited them for me at the show last year what he looked like and he said he was young, cute in a I’m trying to be hip but I’m a nerd kind of way. So I’m thinking a New York, artsy/techie creative type who’s cute but approachable. Totally my type. So I’ve been totally psyched about meeting him. Maybe he’s the one. Maybe he’ll complete me. Maybe we’ll have cute mixed baby’s together with exotic names raised on organic baby food. Maybe we’ll wear matching scarves when it’s cold outside.
My boss had met him a day before and upon his return, he cryptically told me that my customer really, really wanted to meet me. I had butterflies. Maybe the excitement was mutual? I tentatively asked my boss, “He’s young right?” He replied, “He’s skinny. Like toothpick skinny. Super super super skinny. And he looks just like [our balding engineer]. Except he’s half his size. So he’s basically a really skinny version of [our balding engineer]. And he’s older.” My stomach drops. My hopes are dashed. What the fuck did my coworker talk to? It didn’t sound like my client.
So I visit the clients I know first, then finally, head over to the one I had been most excited about. I didn’t even bother looking at name tags. I just looked for the the skinniest person I could find, apprehensive, not willing to give up all the imagined good feelings and romantic possibilities that have psychically passed between us as we’ve built our business relationship despite never having spoken of anything remotely personal. But it was all there. I swear I’m not delusional. Well, at least about this.
He saw me before I saw him. I was walking by and he was with a customer, but he must have had really good eyes to catch my name tag, but he smiled and waved. I’ll tell you, I could kill my coworker because his description of this guy was nothing like what he looked like. He looked a lot older and was indeed how my boss described. But still, there was something very warm and familiar about him and his smile, like we’d been friends forever and it was great to meet up again. I lied when I got back to the booth and told my coworker I was pissed at him for misleading me about the way this guy looks and getting my hopes up. But to be honest with you, I wasn’t disappointed.
He pantomimed for me to wait, but I pointed at my list and mouthed that I would come back. We stood there, smiling at each other and I reached out my hand to shake his. “I’m really glad to finally meet you,” I said with a big, genuinely happy smile. The flash of the gold band on his ring finger did not go unnoticed.
I went back a few hours later with one of our executives but he wasn’t there. He had invited me to a party they were hosting via email the week before, so we picked up our party passes and left.
I met a few more customers, and the day was overall uneventful. Our CTO complimented me that I would be good at tech support because my thinking is very logical, and I took that as a high compliment from an engineer. One of my customers looks like Lt. Dangle on Reno 911, so I couldn’t help but keep cracking jokes with him because I expected him to appreciate humor. He’s a pretty serious guy and the owner of a major company so the jokes felt as inappropriate as they did compulsive, but he warmed up and that was a good feeling. I was in a really good mood, and it was affecting people.
On our way out of the convention center, I heard someone call my name. I turned around and it was my client running up to me. How does he manage to sense me? He’s got a good radar for me, considering how good I am about being
in stealth mode. He apologized for not having had time to meet me, and I told him not to worry, I’d come back but he wasn’t there. I told him we’d picked up our party badges so I would see him tonight. He was happy that we were coming and it was good. A good, warm, happy feeling.
I took my coworker to get a foot massage, then we had dinner at a place in Chinatown with a damn cool fishtank (there’s a little yellow fish that looks like a slug that I loved) and good food. We got to the party fashionably late, and I started with a Patron shot and graduated to tequila and coke, something an armyman I’d met in Cancun had taught me. A few minutes in, we ran into my client. I spent a while chatting with him, but I didn’t want to monopolize his time and I also wanted to check out the rest of the club, so I told him, “Well, I’m sure you’ve got a lot of people to talk to so I won’t take up all of your time.” I was surprised when he said, “No, I don’t really.” Oh. So stayed and chatted some more. When my coworker got bored and declared he was going to check out the floor downstairs, I told my client I was going to go with him. He kind of looked a little offended, like I was politely saying I didn’t want to talk, so I told him I would see him around. I did not fail to notice his wedding ring did not make it to the party.
The place had 4 rooms with different types of music, acts (dancers, contortionists) and open bars. We met up with our VP of business development who I constantly bump heads with, and our CTO. Our CTO is from Israel and declared that it’s impossible to get him drunk. So I ordered him a quadruple whiskey. We hung out for a big and I pointed out a cougar with fake tits dancing on this stage to our CTO. He declared that he had no idea I was so cool. I asked him why he wouldn’t think I was cool. He said that in the office, I’m so professional. haha. I told him, I’m a Gemini. I am definitely at least two distinct people.
I left the guys in this one room because they were gawking at girls and bumped into another one of my clients. I was in mid-conversation with him when he kisses me. Just a peck. I say, “Oh, okay.” He tells me that he comes to LA a lot and stays at this hotel by the beach, and if the next time he comes, if I’ll come have drinks with him at his hotel. “Just you and I?” I ask him, apprehensively. “Yeah,” he says. Oh crap, I think. “Thanks, but my boyfriend’s getting tired of all my late night client meetings,” I simultaneously joke and lie. I know it kind of implies that I usually *would* sleep with my clients but my (fictional) boyfriend is tired of it, but I don’t care. That was the best way I came up with to get out of that situation.
I move to another dance floor and bump into my wedding-band less client again. He caught me in conversation and we ended up talking for the rest of the night. He was funny and interesting…I was impressed by how fast his wits were. He wanted to know how old I was so I asked him how old he was. We had a little stand off so I asked him what his Chinese zodiac was to guess the year. Then we found out we were both born in June, though he’s a Cancer and I’m a Gemini. He told me that he shared a birthday with George Michael. I said, “No way! I share a birthday with Boy George! Maybe your gay and my gay can get together and schedule a public restroom rendezvous.” It was surprisingly comfortable and easy. I was pretty sure he was feeling me, and at least intellectually, I was feeling him. The party was ending so he said that a group of them were going to hit another bar and that I should come. I told him I had to find my coworkers and ask them, and he told me that he just say my coworkers leave so I should just go with him. I quickly say, “No they didn’t.” We’re kind of quiet for a while and he says, “I’m sorry. I just lied.” Like he felt bad. I say, “I know.” He asks me how I knew. “Because your heart rate elevated and your pupils dilated,” I say, really dryly. His eyes get wide and he says, “Really???”
“No!” I laugh, “I don’t have Terminator vision. But it’d be really cool if I did.”
I end up finding my coworkers and we head to another bar and meet up with my client. But while we’re getting drinks, my client says that everyone is actually going to move to another bar. I tell him we’re already getting drinks so we’re gonna stay, so I say goodbye to him. Meanwhile, I’m still ordering triple whiskeys for my CTO who’s wasted but claiming he’s not. That night, I learned that this douchebag I work with thinks that I’m a bitch to him at the office because we have sexual tension. Gross. I told him, “I’m a bitch to you sometimes because you waste my time. Don’t come into my office if you’re just going to waste my time. It’s that simple.” And then he held my hand in the taxi ride back. WTF.
My other coworker told me that I’d be dangerous if I really let loose my feminine side.
That’s the secret. I’m tough and I’m strong and I’m fast. It weeds out the cowards who might think they have a chance with me. And after that, when I meet someone who has courage and is also intelligent and a good person, I’ll show him everything. I’ll show him what it is these guys get a glimpse of and want to own so badly. So don’t think this facade is all calculated. I know what kind of power I have inside me, and I recognize that it’s special. I only want to give it to people who deserve it or need it. People who are good people.
Day Three.
Okay, tequila and coke is not okay. I couldn’t even stand straight up in the shower this morning. I got up an hour early but it took me close to two to shower and get dressed. I had to lay back down for a few minutes. My coworker waited for me and we cabbed down to the convention center late. Luckily someone else was there to cover but it was a rough morning. I’m sure it was rougher for my CTO, who had to drive into Silicon Valley with the partners, and who I had pumped about 15 shots of whiskey into the night before (later, apparently our president told my coworker that if we ever deliver our CTO to him in that kind of condition again, he’d kill us. My coworker was nice enough not to mention it was mostly my doing). We made it through the morning, I had some chicken soup for lunch, found out this really cute guy I had been feeling the day before and had looked for all day had actually come back seemingly looking for me, and I’d missed him. So dark haired guy from San Diego whose warm, brown eyes I was swimming in as I fucked up my demo nervously, I want to date you.
I met with my client from the night before to give him a demo, and he was once again wearing his wedding band. Triiiicky….After the demo, I thought that was that. He’d been totally professional so I figured the night before had just been my delusion. But then afterwards, he asked me what I was doing that night. I said I was going to a Warriors game. He told me to call his cell if I did anything afterwards.
After the show, I got a call from Rie who lives in Lodi. She drove over a couple of hours and we had dinner in North Beach. It was great to see her and she gave me a red kimono from Japan. I told her I would wear it to the show and seduce all the middle-aged bald businessmen.
She gave me a ride to Oracle and I met up with my family for the Warriors game. They almost got beat by the Wizards but made an amazing rally in the final minutes of the game. Said goodbye, headed back for Bart. Michael almost followed me back to Bart for SF. That kid loves me, and I love him.
My coworker calls me and tells me to call my client to find out about any parties for that night. I text him and he said there’s nothing going on. I say there’s an Irish pub that looks like it’s hopping, but it’s mostly people from the show. He says he’s staying in. I write him back for him to have a great trip home, but I guess he didn’t get it, because he texts me and asks me if I’m ignoring him because he’s staying in, and that it’s not nice. I call him and tell him I had texted him a nice message but he had
n’t gotten it. We talk for a bit and I wish him a safe trip back.
That whole thing was strange. I wasn’t physically attracted to him, I knew he’s married which is something I don’t go near because it’s complicated and not ethical. But talking to him was almost like talking to an old friend. It was very happy and comfortable. I’m a little nervous about how it will be when I have to call him for work. I hope it’s not awkward and I hope I can conduct myself professionally. I hate losing my reference point…how familiar I should behave with someone given the situation. I have this problem because I see inside people so easily, that I can get familiar/intimate with them fast. But then in the light of day, it’s hard to remember at what level our relationship actually stands in a logical sense. I wish I didn’t make things so complicated.
Day Four.
The show was slow. The dark-haired guy never came back. Now I can only hope he calls me because he has my card, if only because I want to refer him to one of my customers so I can strengthen that relationship by giving them a favor. We pack up, I drop my coworker off in Chinatown, buy some pastries (egg tarts, fruit tarts) for my family, and drive home. Michael wanted me home by 4:30 to take him to the gym, and he was so happy when I got there. The housekeeper told me he’d been waiting for me all day by the window. Man, I don’t know how that makes me feel. I guess happy because I’m glad I didn’t let him down. I take him to the gym and I see Jason playing basketball, so I run through some shooting drills with him. He’s too nice. He needs a mean streak. If I could give him mine, he might really have a shot at college ball. The kid is 6-7 with the silkiest jumper and NBA 3-point range. Just no heart or killer instinct. Sweet through and through.
I ride the bike with Michael while he cools down and then we head home. My mom talks to me again about my job search up in the bay area. I think I really loved San Francisco, but I’m still not sure I could see myself living up here. The parking situation, how everything is done mostly by walking, I like walking, but when I’m in a hurry, I don’t like it. I don’t know yet. I really don’t know yet. I think for me to make a decision, I have to see it as a solid future, like a psychic looking ahead. And I still haven’t been able to materialize a solid image in my mind of where I see myself next year. Maybe I have to wait for other things to fall in order.
Overall, an empowering trip. Empowering to be in the bay area, empowering to have such great customer feedback, empowering to see the results of my hard work and sacrifice. Also, to meet a strong connection gives me inspiration, even if it’s not romantic. Like they say, maybe it’s karmic. But it’s electricity, and that’s what I feed off of.
I feel like over the last 8-9 months, I’ve been growing stronger, but in San Francisco this weekend, I finally got a heart, like the lion in Wizard of Oz. I finally realized how strong I am, and how much courage I actually am capable of. I need to translate that courage into leadership. I think I am finally ready.
friday.
left work early at 3 to play basketball at the gym. played with a one-armed man who was fantastic. i was on his team and we celebrated every basket he made like it was the tying basket in a champsionship game. he had heart and played gritty. he made me happy.
met up with the michigan crew at a bar called firecracker in chinatown. i got there a little early so i had some time to hang out. there was a jazz band in the corner and a tiny old bar that reminded me of those sad, empty affairs we used to play in while our parents held banquets in the restaurants next door. i sat at the bar and saw the bartender was a crickety old chinese lady like the dragon lady in all those war movies from the 50’s. she looked like the type of lady you order a mai tai from, so that’s what i ordered.
the portland/knicks game was on silently in the corner, competing with the jazz. i heard the girl next to me scream and pump her arms in the air when portland scored, catching the attention of the entire room. then she leaned over to her group and explains, i’m from portland. they all act politely impressed, one girl saying, wow, i didn’t know that. followed by an awkward silence. the guy asks her, do you think portland’s current run is a fluke or do you think they can keep it up? she looks at him blankly, then says, uh…i’m just from portland. and everyone nodded their heads and politely agreed. i figured these people knew each other from work.
i liked watching the game with live jazz in the background. i could care less about the knicks but their winning would have helped my warriors. so i was intent on the game, going out of my way to ignore any eye contact with anyone at the bar, while simultaneously im-ing with my mom who had gone to the warriors game that night and wanted to tell me about it.
my group showed up and i was informed there was a second floor. so we left the cozy confines of the jazz club, and traveled up the stairs somewhat oxymoronically into someone’s basement.
the upstairs of this bar looked exactly like someone’s basement in new jersey, circa 1982. there’s a tiny dance floor with a disco ball, surrounded by couches and a small bar. serving drinks that night, was a guy in a facemask decked out like a ninja suicide bomber.
we sat in a booth in the very back of the room, watching the dancers trying to figure out the dj’s rhythm. they guy was either sadistic, or using this venue to practice, because he would throw out these beats and just as the dancers figured it out, he’d switch to something completely different and off. if the people on the dance floor were sims, they would have had big question marks over their heads, but they were determined to figure this guy out.
i hung out for a while but got tired. i wanted to get up early the next day to shoot baskets by myself. on the drive home, i took the streets. had radiohead with street spirit vibrating the car. a guy at a stoplight in koreatown asked me if i knew where hill st was. he looked about 23. i told him man, it’s waaaaay back there! and he laughed and said, cool, thanks. we both rolled up our windows. i turned my music back up. he needed to make a u-turn to get to hill st but instead, drove alongside me for a few miles. finally, he smiled and waved at me as he made a turn and headed back in the direction we came.
drove through downtown, koreatown, west hollywood, beverly hills, century city. saw a police road block, a construction crew and a man getting pulled over. entertained the notion of getting something to eat, but didn’t see anything crowded enough for me to want to stop. thought about not stopping at my house and taking a little drive up north of the 405 to explore those neighborhoods there. decided it was late. went to bed. dreamed of the ocean, people the size of ants, and beethoven.
sat.
got up so late. damn those dreams of beethoven. but i really felt like i was getting to know the man.
took some of this n.o. explode that brian had gotten at gnc and it made me crazy high, like there was juice running through my muscles and it was all systems go in my control room. I could see the basket so clearly, and i felt like my legs were springs. i still have terrible focus when i’m close to the basket though, because i’m actively aware of people under me and wanting to know where their feet are. i have to protect my knees. but overall, i felt like an athlete flying on a banned substance.
the group i like to play with was already there. then candice, the lesbian, and her friend showed up. candice used to play saturday mornings years ago, and she was a hurtling cannonball of fierce. she’s in her 50’s but she takes basketball seriously, and she’s not afraid to take you down. she used to play with her girlfriend and this really tall woman who had played at nortwestern, and it was always fun, but you were always worried that she would hurt you or hurt herself. but i like playing with her. she likes talking to me a lot. quite a lot. she likes talking to me with her face really close to me, so close that i smell the mint on her breath as if it were coming from me. it makes me uncomfortable, and sometimes, i pretend i’m protecting her from a rebound coming towards us by running for it, when really i’m trying to create space.
i had a lot to do to prepare for super bowl and then my business trip next week, so i left and ran errands. but all i really did was stroll around the mall, irritated that i had to be at a mall, then get a massage. i had wanted to go out to san gabriel for dinner but ended up getting something at the hong kong cafe down the street and headed home to figure out my life.
seattle and i need to talk.
i need more romance in my life. i feel like the analytical, detached side of life has been taking over.
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About Me:
experimental stream of consciousness writer who may or may not be a liar. sanest person you've ever met but i'll look you in the eyes like a computer eating magnets. what i don't know about you, i'll make up. and you'll still love me because you don't know where i went that moment you swore i disappeared. my moods chase the seasons and i hear it makes an interesting read. i like smelling good.