Echo

saturday night – the other room

spent the earlier part of the evening hanging out with missed connections guy, and a couple of girls he introduced as his “friends,” though he’s clearly sleeping with one of them. i know this because her energy spiked when i showed up, she made a big show of touching his leg whenever she laughed, she kept lighting matches to get attention, and she bumped me as she walked past me. and he seemed a little bit whipped in her presence. she reminded me of this girl . i disarmed the situation in a similar way. just refused to acknowledge any tension, and was very careful about sending any energy towards the guy that would be construed as intent. she left for the night to try to get her roommate to come out, and things were more relaxed after that. i gave him and his friend one of my specialty brownies to split. i’m like the robin hood of brownies. i usually give them to people with spiritual questions–i’ll tell them to find a 5 hour window in a comfortable place, eat the brownie, listen to music they like, and think about questions they have. write stuff down.

or if possible, i like to spend that time with them, talk to them. a couple of hours with me is sometimes better than years of therapy. it’s tough when you look for all the things that are wrong with you and your life. let’s talk about where you’re going and what you want, then figure out what it is you’re holding on to that’s preventing that.

so an hour later, they’re both very happy. missed connections guy (aka beau) had been having trouble looking me in the eye (but he would watch me when i’m not looking, so to make him more comfortable, i would talk more to the other girl). but now he was more comfortable and i was able to talk to him.

his friend told me what she was experiencing was incredible. she felt very happy and positive. peaceful. she said i’m very talented.

i thank her with my entire heart. it means a lot to me when i can give people this kind of experience. to tell me that what i gave them made them feel happy and gave them positive eyes to see and feel the world…that is the highest compliment.

it renewed my desire to become a shaman. the laws would have to change, but regardless, i’m telling you i could help a lot of people. that’s really what i want to do most. give people positive experiences, so no matter where their life goes, they’ve had it. they know it. they’ve felt it. so they’ll be able to recognize or create these experiences or feelings in the future, or in other areas of their lives. once you’ve experienced peace, then you’ll know where to aim.

they were happy as they were leaving, great hugs all around. his friend leaned over and whispered that she was there the night he and i met and talked. she told me beau had been really happy about meeting me.

that was nice to hear. some kind of consolation.

i guess his function had been to help commit an important night to memory, lead me somewhere else. now having spent more time getting to know him, while he’s very funny and very pleasant to look at, his glow feels artificial. fluorescent. lacking heat.

i was happy. the music was good, and i met some brazilian girls and helped them take a picture. they hung out with me for the rest of the night. i started texting rie. ever since she had seigo, she doesn’t really go out anymore, but i sometimes like to text her when i’m out and about people watching, because it makes me feel like she’s there in spirit. and for her to feel a part of the scene.

rie:
we may be moving early as nov.

me:
holy shit! to where?

rie:
berkeley or albany. he’ll probaby get offers in concord, san pablo, vallejo & walnet creek

me:
oh sweet. i so welcome you closer to the bay area where you can be creative. i’m making my way there. just have to accomplish some things first

[years ago when she was living in new york and i was in los angeles, i realized that in my lifetime, i might only see her 5-6 more times. that made me so incredibly sad. i dreamed of a world where she lived in california. i could see her being really happy in the bay area.]

rie:
who would have thought we’d both end up in northern california?

me:
i did! i willed you there!

rie:
it worked!

me:
i know! i just couldn’t imagine growing old without you.

*****
so i’m texting with rie, and i’m laughing and smiling at my phone because i’m so happy. i love this girl. she’s the sister i never had.

this guy who’d been standing by me in a blazer and a shoulder-length triangle of hair (it looked like he’d had it permed), asks me why i’m in a bar, texting.

i tell him that i’m texting my best friend who can’t come out because she has a baby.

“you’re a really nice friend,” he said.

“she’s like a sister,” i said.

i go back to looking at my phone and he taps me on the shoulder.

“so tell me what you think of this,” he said. “i just tried to talk to this girl, and she told me she was married. basically, i saw this girl and it’s like…have you ever met someone and you just knew…something about them, you just had to talk to them?”

“uh…yes. i believe i’m familiar with that kind of experience.”

“well, i go up to her, like…my god, she blew my mind. and i’m trying to talk to her, but she tells me she’s married.”

“hmmm…,” i said. “maybe it just means you’re looking for a girl like her, but she just wasn’t the one.”

“but she wasn’t married! she lied just because she was blowing me off.”

“well, fuck her, then. she’s dishonest. why are you still talking about her? go find someone better.”

“what?”

“why are you still wasting time and your thoughts talking about her when there are lots of other available women in this room you could be talking to?”

“what?”

“find someone who is available instead of dwelling on someone who’s not.”

“my point is, why can’t i talk to you without you being like her?”

“what? how am i like her? i’m giving you good advice here.”

“i know a lot about psychology.”

“i know psychology.”

“do you have a doctorate in it?”

“undergrad work but i know psychology.”

“well i have a doctorate.”

“big fucking deal.”

[he either didn’t hear that or chose to ignore it]

“i have a doctorate in psychology, so i know people, and i’m saying women don’t make any sense. like right now. i’m trying to have a civil conversation, but one of us is being shitty.”

[what??]

“are you saying i’m being shitty? i’m sitting here, taking the time to give you good advice, with more honesty than you’ll get from anyone else in this fucking room, and you can’t even value it. fuck off,” i say, casually dismissive.

i turn around and go back to my conversation with rie. he taps me on my shoulder trying to get my attention, but i ignore it.

he leans almost over me.

“okay, i’m sorry. we’re both just here to have a good time, and i don’t want to be remembered as part of a bad experience.”

“it’s fine,” i say, indifferent and distracted, because rie is telling me about the gumbo she’s making.

“no really, i don’t want you to be mad at me.”

[good god, ignorant men can be such babies. what makes him think i care enough to put energy into being mad?]

i turn around and grab his hand and give him that black guy shake + one-arm hug.

“i’m a nice person and don’t hold grudges,” i say. “so we’re cool. but i don’t have time for bullshit.”

go back to msging rie and ignoring him.

less than a mi
nute later, he and his friend move to the other side of the room.

got a free beer from the bartender.

much love.

so you’re leaving just to come home, he said.

something like that, i said.

every beginning is born of an ending. every homecoming requires departure.

find what was lost, even if you don’t understand what it is yet.

you have no idea the depth of this thing.

you don’t either, julia.

awesome.

i was barefoot on a dark beach, the moon a bloody sliver sinking into the ocean.

it looks like mars, i said to the handsome french man, who couldn’t stop staring at me.

we’d met up for tea and to take a walk.

he’d told me he wanted to talk to me because of my smile. he’d seen me smile from inside my car the day before.

the fact is, i was in my car happily singing along to careless whisper by…who else, the fabulous mr. george michael. back in the day when he was just another straight man in tight pants. i mean, i was very happily jamming, figured no one could see me. black car. dark street. i’m in shadow mode. george michael and i are good.

this guy walks by, shaved head, glasses, the ghost of someone beautiful, so of course i smiled. beamed. and somehow, he saw me.

i saw him double back later, walking past my car, and i was still jamming to careless whisper. i thought, okay, first i have to turn off the song because it’s probably not the proudest moment. secondly, i have to get out of the car because i think this guy wants to talk to me.

so i get out and he’s a couple of yards away on his cellphone (i actually thought he was pretending), so i go to cross the street (yours to lose, buddy)…and he comes running up.

introduced himself. said i looked familiar. he had an accent. i asked him what it was. french, he said. oh, i said.

this is intriguing what is happening here.

i’m probably looking at him so warmly because he reminds me of someone else, and the funniness of it is making me smile so expansively that it’s coming out of my chest. and he’s drawn in. i’m talking to him like we’re long lost friends.

he asks if we can get together, and i tell him i’m moving to seattle in two weeks. he says, then we better spend time together soon. he asks why and i tell him that i’m trying to establish a secondary writing location.

he has to run, he’s late for a birthday party. he texts me on and off for the rest of the night.

tonight, we were standing side by side, watching the moon over the ocean. i could see stars, but i don’t trust the stars in los angeles. so many are planes in disguise. we’ve only spent 30 minutes together. i can tell there’s no romantic connection, outside of the fact he’s a really nice, peaceful person and so am i. i could tell from his eyes he wanted to touch me. probably sexually but not necessarily. just something about skin and body. he put his arm around me and asked if i would like to get closer or if i’m okay, and i said i was okay. he stroked my shoulders and neck, exploring. i like cool fingers…my skin always runs warm. he commented that my body was giving off a lot of heat, even though we’re standing out in the cold. he’s gentle but not testing my boundaries, so i’m not concerned. as long as he gets something out of it, and doesn’t cross any lines, i enjoy it. but i tell him that i’m not looking for anything because i’m gone in two weeks.

he said that it was okay. but then he pauses. “do you mean you’re not looking for a relationship?”

“i’m not looking to get involved in anything that makes me lose focus of getting to seattle. i’m cool getting to know people, but i’m not looking to get involved in anything that makes me not want to leave.”

his palm gently maps the curves that make the small of my back.

i know that if i stand my ground and don’t believe in it, nothing will happen. as fun as it would be to get physically involved with someone, i don’t need any distractions right now. any acknowledgment of chemistry and all i’ve built comes crumbling down, i’ve worked too hard to lose focus now just because of my hedonism and love of human touch. soon. but not right now.

i focus on the moon, and keep finding topics to delve into. he’s a spiritual man himself, so we have lots to talk about.

when the moon drops into the ocean, we walk around main street for another hour. he’s a nice person, but there’s not really a deeper connection there. he walks me to my car. he remembers it.

i say to him, “i still don’t know how you saw me. i’m in a black car in the dark and you saw me smile when i saw you. how were you able to see me?”

“i don’t know,” he said. “i just did. i looked over and you had this amazing smile, and it made me feel i had to talk to you.”

that must have been one hell of a smile, i thought.

this is the word.

my send-off will be at the hollywood bowl, aug 30th. ask your mama. the roots. incidentally motherfuckers, a 22 day. i completely didn’t realize that one until now.

i will be in a powerful, spiritual place surrounded by nature, listening to music, sharing an experience with those who love me within a sea of thousands, the moon watching from her seat above.

if you understand how happy i will be, then you’ll understand there’s a likelihood of magic.

it will be a very good day. you will want to get involved.

i will be doing what i do best.

i already bought tickets but i think i’ll sell them and reserve a row instead for whoever wants to sit near me.

i’m thinking, light. lots and lots of light.

people always think it’s the herb, but it’s being around me that makes them feel comfortable.

i would like to give that feeling of comfort to people and make a living from it. i want to be a shaman, bringing people’s shadows to the surface. i want people to feel positive, empowered, so they will remember what that feels like when they look for it in other areas of their lives.

do you want to know what peace is?

make me comfortable and i will make you comfortable.

within that circle is your understanding.

trust the moment.

i’m in the process of selling all the concert tickets i was so happy about. oh well. going to seattle is better. that’s the thing with me…whenever i buy concert tickets in advance, something always comes up. i need to just stick with buying them last minute.

at least i’ll be here for next week’s hollywood bowl sunday sunset show. a great way to close it out. the bowl is always a magical, religious experience.

when i was young, my greatgrandmother gave me a stuffed leopard. my greatgrandmother was an amazing woman, a very influential force who raised my mother, a woman who took care of me in my first few years. she died when my brother was in womb, and my mom wasn’t able to go to taiwan for the funeral because she couldn’t travel in her last trimester, and that has been a great source of guilt and hurt inside her.

i loved this leopard like you wouldn’t believe, sleeping with it, chewing its ear. his tail fell off and they had to sew it back on for me. it sat on a shelf in my room as i grew up, even through college.

my parents moved out of their house in may for a year while the house gets renovated. i remember looking for my leopard, which had always been on the shelf, but my brother had taken over my room the last few years. no one could find it. i worry that they threw him out or donated him with all the other old toys to goodwill.

that would be sad, because goodwill would have thrown him away. he was too raggedy to sell or give away. he would have never meant anything to someone as much as he meant to me.

i still miss him. the way he felt in my arms, against my cheek. the way he smelled. he is symbolic of a time, of an innocence, of an unconditional love from a very kind person.

i still hold out hope that maybe he’ll show up one day when i least expect it.

check this out.

some people may or may not know, that during the spring, i was living in florida with my friends, sarah and jef, writing and recuperating from 2008. while my mom and brother were traveling in china, my dad went through dizzy spells. i urged him to see a doctor who took an x-ray of his brain. the technician said there was a spot, but would need the doctor to take a look to diagnose. but the doctor was on vacation for a week. i talked to eric and he said it could be either ear or brain related, giving me a test to distinguish. it appeared brain related. we were all terrified it was a stroke.

my father had to go to florida for a court case that would determine the fate of what had been years of terror and stress. i would talk to him daily to make sure he was calm about things. sarah asked me if i should go home to be with him. i don’t know. he’s a proud man, and i could see him saying no because he didn’t want to seem needy. i called him the day he was supposed to fly home, and asked him if he wanted me to fly home so he wouldn’t be alone. he said, only if it’s convenient for me.

i realized, he was scared.

i booked a flight leaving within a few hours, and sarah rushed me to the airport. i waited in san jose airport for 2 hours, surprising my dad when he walked by after getting off his flight.

my dad and i have a very cautious relationship. there are entire universes left unsaid, because we are both so unable to express love towards each other. but that week, we bonded.

he trusted me because i had been there for him even though he hadn’t asked for it. in a time in which he was actually very scared, i made him feel loved and not alone. this may seem kind of obvious, but my dad is not an emotionally trusting man. deep down, i think he’s had feelings that those he loves will abandon him when he needs them most, which is why he is so self-sufficient and expects very little from others.

his doctor was out of town so he wasn’t able to get the results of the xray, but bad news was still in the back of our minds.

we ate a lot of strawberries. it started when i bought some from the sunday farmer’s market, but then just kept buying more and more. it turned into an insane amount of strawberries. i’m talking about $30 pallets of like eighty strawberries we would eat between us in one night. every night. i don’t know why we ate strawberries, but we did. it became our thing.

the dizziness went away. by the time the doctor came back, my dad said he felt better, was even starting to play basketball again, and the doctor said the x-ray was fine if the symptoms weren’t persistent.

so, i was just sitting here, eating strawberries. i realized these are the first i’ve bought since that week alone with my dad in fremont in the spring. i reminisced about the bonding between my dad and i that week, and realized what an insane amount of strawberries we ate. and how it was very out of the ordinary.

then i wondered…

i googled “strawberries” and “stroke.” Got a few links that link the potassium in strawberries to being good for preventing stroke.

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maybe…it was an instinct.

beau is like a gazelle.
a beautiful, shiny, helpless gazelle.
by my honor, i will never eat him.

i laugh inside at the guys who can’t stop looking at me even though they’re with their girlfriends. i figure how deep down they must feel like such assholes, that they didn’t believe in something better, even if they hadn’t found it yet, and tied themselves to something “good enough,” and are now missing an opportunity. remember those boys who tend to go with their second choices?…careful.

me, i always believed i would have what i felt i deserved. i was just kind enough to myself to wait until i was conscious to make an empowered decision in regards to what i saw myself deserving without tying myself down with the best of what was available even if it wasn’t right. now i know what i want, as far as an absolute trust in myself that i’ll know it when i see it. that’s all you need. that’s all that matters.

but what i’m most proud of myself for, is that i never settled and never let myself get permanently obligated to anything that didn’t absolutely feel right.

did you see the sliver of moon tonight?

exquisite, like a sliver of ice on your tongue.

a sensation turned memory.

i dedicate that to you.

from birth, you have never left my heart.

well. what a strange day.

started out fairly normal but lucked out in landing a place to stay in seattle for next week, when i called to inquire about an apt for rent. i have a feeling i’m really going to like where i live.

went to the other room.

ran into missed connections guy.

but not before being asked out by a guy with a shaved head who saw me from inside my car and doubled back to stop me as i was crossing the street. i only smiled at him because he looked like someone i knew. except he was french. why do brilliant smiles + glasses get my attention?

later, there was the one i told to fuck off. i gave him a gift and he called it shit. he was immediately ejected from my perspective.

oh, these men. it has gotten to ridiculous levels. i just want to make it to seattle. this is very important to me.

but i appreciate everyone for whatever stage of their journey they’re on. there’s just someone specific i’m supposed to meet.

9’s and 7’s. like moths to flame.

one is the prophet. the other, the monk.

a lot of people tend to notice my shoulders. an intriguing few remember my hands.

perhaps the fact that the sound of distant train whistles always sends me to another dimension, one heavy with safety, innocence and peace, is what should tell me that i’m already tamed.

whenever i hear distant train whistles, or the low drone from an 18-wheeler’s wheels on asphalt as he motors cross country, i feel the sounds cutting through fog, somewhere, where it’s 3am.

Little Known Fact:

In college, I submitted a very serious and well-supported proposal to the Honors College for a self-declared degree blending courses from the Philosophy, Psychology, History, English Lit and Film Studies programs in a study of human dynamics. A deep study into duality and imbalance within the psyche, and tracking and comparing cruelty and submission dynamics within societies, and how the dynamics can be interpreted through analysis of a culture’s art & religion. The title? “Sado-Masochism.” I could have been the University of Michigan’s first graduate in S&M, Honors.

I will never forget the look on my counselor’s face.

“Oh Christ, the dildo’s back.”

What Happened In Albuquerque from The Goods

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Spain. I see Spain.