today– 3-6 FG, 2-2 FT for 8 points, 4 rebounds, 6 assists, 2 blocks, 5 fouls for the win. despite…an early shoulder dislocation that popped back in quickly.

most importantly, i played with confidence, showed great leadership and got my teammates involved. and i didn’t let the irritating girl get to me.

our women’s team finally won a game!

i also think this one ref is in love with me. i do flirt with him though. one of the jobs of a team captain is always to get the refs on your side of objectivity… ;)

i can’t wait for my shoulder to get fixed and i can really go after the shotblocking. our center was absent so my teammates wanted me to do the opening tip because i can jump. that was very flattering.

i was shooting out of my mind yesterday, beating 3 guys at HORSE twice in a row despite my shoulder dislocating again. i actually beat them after it dislocated and having to pop it back in, which was the craziest part. the pain was killer last night so i had a hard time sleeping. went back and played today. as i was leaving the house for the gym, i remembered the dream i had last night. i really want a job. but sometimes i think the universe does whatever it wants with me, so that hasn’t been in the books for me right now. so in my dream, i somehow got a job waitressing at houston’s, which is where reggie used to work, but this was in another city–sf or seattle maybe. so we show up for this training meeting, but it was really vague. they just told us to go to it like we should already know what to do, but since i’ve never waitressed before, i was lost. i dropped a plate and thought i was going to get fired, that the boss must think i’m an idiot. i kept saying to myself, i have an IQ of 154, i’m not an idiot…repeating it over and over. the guy in charge turned out to be really nice and encouraging, and when i woke up, i realized i would really like to work for someone who wants to see me succeed for a change (i tend to work for people who want me to do well on one hand, but also resent me doing too well on the other).

but then going to play basketball again the day after a painful dislocation, whatever my IQ score, is really stupid. but basketball is an addiction for me.

i played 2 on 2 then 3 on 3. i was ridiculous. the 3 on 3 game was tough because i had a guy guarding me who was about 6’2 and long and quick off his feet. he was like an asian kevin durant. he did block one of my shots, so i had to release quick and high. there was one play where i drove left, then crossed behind my back throwing my guy into a righ-hand screen and just launched as soon as i picked up the ball instead of driving. i basically had to shoot over my defender and my own teammate, going from picking up the ball directly off a behind the back cross straight up, which is incredibly awkward and difficult, but it went in clean. there was a collective “whoa.” i’m pretty sure i couldn’t even see the basket over my guy, but it still went in. i made a couple more ridiculous shots crossing over directly into a shot over my defender, and two slashes to the basket.

i think the difference is confidence. when i feel in control, time moves slower, and i can see more options. that’s why i like 2 on 2 or 3 on 3–less people means less feet, means i’m less worried about getting feet under me and hurting my knee so less anxiety. but even the full court games i played the other day when people kept asking me what college i play for…i was just overall really calm and in control. it’s so much about mindset, not panicking, just feeling like you’ll have enough time and space to do what you need to do.

i also notice that when i’m playing my game, feeling in control and showing leadership so my teammates can trust me, the team tends to win.

i’ve always found basketball to be such a metaphor to life. it’s a game of rhythm as much as it’s speed, strength and skill. the greeks believe a strong body makes a strong mind. basketball involves both. i’ve noticed that you can learn a lot about a person from watching them play basketball (did you know that when my dad and i play 2 on 2, he likes to shoot it himself rather than pass to me?), and a lot of the mentality of basketball translates to life. the more i’m going with the flow and letting the game come to me so i can optimize my potential within the context of the game, the more i can recognize the same feeling when i’m going with the flow and making the most out of “openings” in life.

i ran into one of my cousins last week at a warriors game. i haven’t seen her in a couple of years. she’s a fellow gemini and we’ve always had a great relationship. she came up to me and i totally didn’t recognize her because she looked so much older (she was 16 the last time i saw her). she looked about 25. she’s going to berkeley now and her claim to fame is that she’s kobe’s personal translator for chinese.

we were catching up and she said the last time she saw me, i was with a black guy. i told her we’d broken up years ago, but on friendly terms.

she leans in close and whispers, “is it true, once you go black, you never go back?”

“i don’t know,” i said.

“were you able to go back?”

i think about it. “i guess i kind of ejected. i went european.”

Maybe next lifetime
Possibly…
Until then old friend, your secret is safe with me

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heading back to seattle tomorrow.

get back in your cave, julia.

today i was sitting in a deli doing my free-write, and listening to four engineers discuss their daughters. one of them said that his daughter argues about everything. sometimes, she has no idea what she’s talking about and still argues for the sake of arguing. another said that he and his wife know another couple who have a daughter the same age as theirs, so they’ll get together sometimes and discuss. have you guys come up with any answers?, one of the engineers asked. no, he said, no answers, but it’s nice to commiserate with people going through the same things.

i was listening to the conversation and laughing inside. these poor guys. here they are, each one having finally found a woman they can understand enough to marry, and along come daughters that are even more confounding.

women are perpetually mysterious creatures to men. i mean, life comes through us–that’s how powerful we can be. but it’s like taming a river…you just can’t. the best you can do is go with it, and try to steer away from any sharp, pointy objects that may lead to gaping flesh wounds.

love is not possessive or selfish. love is the river that flows underground so serenely you forget its presence, until the nights you lose yourself in restless sleep, and it slips into your room, a familiar stranger, one cool hand taking yours, leading your dreams out of shadow towards moonlight.

on saturday i went to the warriors/magic game. we’d run into my uncle while waiting in line for food, my mom’s younger brother who has a bitter rivalry with my dad. so i told him i would treat him. he gave me his order but later came back and said, “no, i should be buying for you guys,” realizing that he was the adult in this situation (the old chinese hierarchy. the eldest always pays). but i told him i insisted, that it’s rare that i get an opportunity to treat him.

“but just remember, if i ever get arrested and can’t find my parents, you’re bailing me out of jail,” i said, and he laughed.

the truth is this. at the game last week, i was sitting with my dad and when the game ended, my dad took off towards the exit. he gets stressed about getting out to the car quickly after games, or else you get stuck in traffic. my dad can get anxious about these things. he’ll get really mad if we have to go to the bathroom afterwards which would delay us getting out to the parking lot and beating the crowd, so we all know to either go before the game is over, or wait until we get home. my mom always says, it’s his anxiety. think of it as an illness–he can’t help it.

so my dad takes off and people are spilling into the aisle so i fall further and further behind him. granted, he does look back once, but he’s pretty much just hauling ass towards the exit without me. i run into my uncle and say hi, and we exchange comments about the game. he’s quiet so i don’t know if he wants to walk with me or not, so i just hurry ahead to try to catch my dad, but he’s lost in the crowd. i’m walking and my uncle catches up to me, and it’s nice because i guess he doesn’t mind walking out with me, so we walk together and chat, and as we get close to the parking lot, i see my dad waiting. he sees that i’m with my uncle, so just turns around and leaves. i’m sure he thinks i’m a traitor.

my mom has said for years that the reason my uncle treats me badly is because he sees me as an extension of my dad, that i’m on my dad’s side. but i’ve said for years that both men are strong personalities who have both had fault, and are both equally responsible for keeping this feud alive. i don’t stand one way or another except objectively where i can see how this feud stays alive, and how it would need to be bridged, with both sides exercising some humility and a willingness to work it out. i’ve never disliked my uncle, just like i don’t not-love my dad. i just hated some of the ways they have treated me in the past. but i’m one of those people who, if you’re nice to me in the present and mean it, then the past doesn’t matter anymore. i can have a very short memory for bad things when there are positive bridges in the present. it’s only when the bad in the past is sustained in the present.

so my uncle and i had a pleasant conversation that night, and later i told my mom about how my dad took off without me, and it was my uncle who walked me out to the parking lot. and how my dad would probably hold this against me because i was talking to my uncle. she sighed and said, no one is all bad, and no one is all good. you just have to know when some things are just the way they are, and not take them personally. just see the good where you can.

so at the game on saturday, i bought my uncle his meal and we were sitting next to him this game, so it was nice to bond. again, as long as he’s nice to me in the present, all that stuff in the past doesn’t matter to me. i care more for building a positive bond in the here and now, than carrying around the negative weight of the past. people change, life changes, and if you allow things to change for the positive, there really isn’t more that you can ask for.

after the game, i drove out to san francisco for josh and his fiance’s house party. his fiance’s threatened by me. my mom even noticed it when they sat with us at a game, but she had a good point–his fiance probably had never heard of me, never even knew josh had a friend named julia, and all of a sudden, the year they get engaged, i suddenly show up and i’m so well-liked that she’s probably like, “where the fuck did this chick come from.” i have no beef with her though and i’m loyal to josh–whatever makes him happy is what i want for him, so i just ignore it, pretend i don’t notice, am respectful and go with it. but to be honest, i had been nervous about the potential drama coming to this party, but i endured it with grace and discipline and had some really amazing connections that night.

some background–i’ve known josh since high school. he sat in front of me our last year in english class and i remember him with baggy t-shirts, curly hair, always squatting instead of sitting in his desk, tapping away furiously with his fingers. he was a bassist in a band, and had offered to teach me how to play guitar. he would always come to the parties at my house, but after college started, i lost touch with him until a couple of years ago, when i got a message from him over myspace asking me if i had been at a warriors game. he happened to see me, and we got back in touch.

at the party, i found out that josh’s dad had passed away 10 years ago, when he was a freshman in college. that coincided with the time i lost touch with him. i’d been wondering what it was, that deep, secret seed of pain inside him, that made his insides feel like they were always in motion, hiding something. we’ve hung out a few times the past year, and i’ve always felt like there was some deep truth that wasn’t being spoken about, and that i always wanted to give him a really long hug but couldn’t justify it with reason. i just didn’t know what it was. when i found out, i wanted to give him a big long hug, but was afraid his fiance might be close to some kitchen knives, so we had a group hug between josh, satish and i.

later, satish and i were sitting on a couch and he pointed to josh and said, “right there, that’s a really good guy. Just an honestly good person.” i felt emotion rise up in my chest, tears well up, and was about to tell satish the story, when josh came up and we talked about something else.

at the end of the night, satish and i were standing on the sidewalk outside, the only light from distant stars…so dark, i couldn’t even see his eyes. just a glint, now and then through shadows.

we talked about time, and life challenges and perspective. about memory, and how each person has such a narrow perspective inside an experience, but once they step beyond it, they realize things that were so clear all along, but which they were too close to see.

i didn’t know satish at all in school…at least not personally. he was a year above, and was really popular. but what i remember was his smile, and that he was a nucleus–a magnetic force that brought people together.

there was a quiet lull. i could feel him smiling in the dark. a lot of memories had come up at this party…maybe because it was a holiday party and these are the times when the past seems to resurrect and thread together with the present like early morning winter fog, or maybe because i was spending time with people i had basically grown up with, and i realized now, i never really got to know.

“do you remember when you said josh is a good guy?” i asked sat.

“he is. he’s a really good guy.”

i had told sat earlier tonight that i’d had a really hard time in high school. being bullied, from students to even teachers. at the same time (what i didn’t tell him), was my home life was imploding with my parents’ violent screams in the next room, and my brother’s night-time seizures that would scare me into thinking at any moment, i could lose someone i loved as easily as a switch being flipped. i’d left home twice when it got too violent, sleeping in my car and showering at the gym, but still going to school, and the one time my parents reported it to school, was terrorized by the school’s liason police officer. they sent me to a psychiatrist who told me sh
e would hospitalize me if i pulled any more shit at home, but throughout all this, not a single person ever asked me what was wrong. not a single person asked me questions. it was a really hard time, my last year of high school.

memory is a funny thing…i’m told i have a very good memory, but it’s random things i remember, or things that were in some way important to me. in this moment, i really wanted to share what connected josh to me in my mind.

“the thing is,” i told sat, “i don’t really know josh. i mean, we were friends in high school our last year because we sat next to each other in english and he would come to my parties. i don’t know why, maybe because i was friends with aubrey and they’d had a falling out that i didn’t realize, but…i didn’t really know josh that well. but the one thing i do remember is this…high school was really rough and there were plenty of people who were mean to me and gave me a really hard time. but the one thing i could always count on, was josh being nice to me.”

i was happy we were standing in the dark. i’m glad he couldn’t see my eyes, wouldn’t ask me to put into words all the feelings behind them. but it’s like that–sometimes, you don’t even know someone, but it’s the kindness that they show you, particularly in your darkest moments, a kindness that is so natural for them they aren’t even particularly aware of it, that can sustain you in the deepest of places.

this is why it means a lot to me for him to be happy. he was a point of light in a very dark time for me. it’s important to me that in life, he gets back the kindness he gives.

i can see the future. i’m just waiting for the part where you walk into it.

i do notice a lot of scorpio’s in my path lately. mikki moore looks for me and smiles at every game now ever since that night he caught me memorizing his face. the two scorpio maybe gay-lovers were also unusual. i’ve appreciated the encounters though because scorpio is a powerful entity. yet today i remembered the partner who caused me the greatest pain was a scorpio, and i got stung when i was very young and innocent. sometimes i can’t tell when i meet a lot of the same kinds, if my lesson is to not be afraid to get close, or if it’s for me to learn from my past and stay away from things i intuitively fear/know as trouble.

scorpios…are your intentions to help me, or are you going to get in my way?

i reread my last post and i suddenly got the last line. i guess that’s the most honest thing about the night. the real heaviness of the night i wrote but couldn’t deal with right now, so i saved in drafts. maybe post later.

today i met a nov 3, 1974 and a nov 16 1974

the younger one said to the older one, “yeah, those 13 days really made a difference. you’re so much wiser.”

scorpio vs scorpio

best friends or…closeted gay couple?

the way they told stories between each other, completing sentences, having little ego sword fights, was like a married couple.

at one point they were going back and forth and i burst out laughing and couldn’t stop.

“why are you laughing?,” the softer one asked.

“because you guys are the most interesting things i’ve seen tonight. it’s like watching a play. i want to do a table talk with you where we just sit and talk about topics.”

“we would love to,” the bearded one said.

i’d started talking to them because they’d been sitting against the wall looking really unhappy, so i’d walked by on my way to getting water from the kitchen and high-fived them, then spun around and asked them if they were having a good time. that led to a conversation that led to the discovery that the three of us all went to the same college and had an overlapping year.

i ask them, “were you still on campus when the movie con air came out?”

they look at me with raised eyebrows. “that’s a very unusual and specific question,” the bearded one says. but neither of them can remember much about the movie.

i tell them that the only letter to the editor of the michigan daily that i ever got, was someone really pissed off at me for giving con air 4 stars. he thought i was retarded. so i wanted to know if either of them wrote that letter, because that would be crazy to randomly come face to face years later at a friend’s house in san francisco.

that story cracked them up, but neither of them claimed to writing the letter or agreed with the notion that con air is a 4 star movie. (said the bearded one, “did you give it 4 stars before or after you discovered marijuana?”)

the softer one complained about age and feeling old. i asked him how old he was and he said, “35.” the bearded one saw my face lit up but let his friend continue on his negative rant about feeling old, telling him that maybe it’s just a state of mind.

finally, i tell them that when i think about finally meeting “my guy,” i always think 35 is the best age to find him because he has a good idea of who he is, he’s got his shit together. that ever since i got back from living in europe, i can’t tell age. just that unhappy people look “old” and happy people look “young.” age is just a state of mind. all that matters is what you’re doing with your life in the present.

it was the strangest thing, too. the softer one, who seemed to harbor secret unhappiness, began looking younger as the night wore on. we laughed and told stories like the night would last forever. it was an instant bond. i have no doubt that tomorrow morning, each of these guys will be wondering about me–doesn’t even matter if they’re gay or straight. it was a memory being created in the present. the whole night featured deep connections. it was all powerful. spiritual. validating. seeing people and being kind to them and their being appreciative.

i dropped the two scorp’s off at a gas station because they needed to get somewhere closer to main streets to catch a cab. i offered to give them a ride but they said, “oh no, we don’t live together. that’s why this is complicated.” still, had no idea if they were just really good friends or gay. also glad no one brought up having a threesome as a joke. it happens once in a while when two guys meet me at the exact same time. the offer that is. i figured if anyone would, it would be two scorpios.

had an amazing drive home, taking the san mateo bridge while the radio played electronic grooves. deep, powerful, overwhelming emotions. like rushing water, i had to relax and let them come through me, raising me to the surface and pulling me to the depths, letting them pass through so once again, i could be myself.

beautiful night. old friends turned new. new friends turned old. one that i wish could have lasted longer.

i’m not batman. i’m something much more real.

i played out of my head at the gym today. like i was going pro. shoulder felt 100%. even showed off my dribbling by bringing the ball up the court, between the legs and behind-the-back crossovers to evade defenders. so weird. i knew i was going to be ridiculous when i missed every single shot warming up. strange, strange, strange. triumphant. a breakout.

when my parents used to fight when i was a kid, i would always want to lock my bedroom door, but was afraid to because i wasn’t allowed to. so i would just not be able to sleep, waiting for the sound of their voices to end. sometimes i would think about those stories where husbands have had it with their families so they murder them in their sleep. that used to keep me up a lot, too. now grown up, i know my dad wouldn’t have the guts to do anything like that. but it still makes me think, about the nature of fear. when you’re a kid, you don’t know the difference. only when you don’t feel safe.

like eric bana in a red shirt and cowboy hat
who played the husband in the time traveler’s wife
i wondered what it would be like if i fell for a cowboy
he’d been leaning in the corner watching me without watching me
and in that moment, did a little spin with a hat tip that was meant for me
but still without the courage to meet my eyes.

he was dancing for me
i liked that he could be in sync with the whole or
in a rhythm of his own
but i pretended not to notice
mostly out of not knowing what to do
with a beautiful man in unexpected form
thick black hair and neat beard
proclaiming a polite wildness inside him
that he might let you touch if you’re patient enough.
a cowboy.
behold, the unexpected,
i’m being wooed by a cowboy.

he came over and leaned on the rail next to me,
so close i could watch his irises dance with the music
almost feel the heat from the sweat that made his
earlobe glisten
i pretended to watch the band as he
reached into his left front pocket
first taking out his driver’s license
then miscellaneous cards and change
putting them in his pants pocket
like removing armor in preparation for
laying his heart bare
he took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair
stealing a glance back to catch me watching
but still, i pretended to only be here for the band
feeling the band
unaware

we stayed like that for 3 songs
three feet from each other
electricity raising the hair on our arms
but not saying a word.

i can already hear my friends screaming at me for ignoring him

finally, as the band started in on “friends in low places,”
he politely said goodnight to the group on the other side of me
and left without a single look back.

i shivered, feeling a piece of me peel away,
some space inside me he was
occupying without my awareness suddenly empty
like having a tooth pulled
i immediately missed the beauty that had so presently
been so near me
immediately wondered if i would ever see him again
thinking that if he had said hi
i would have been touching the dreams of a cowboy tonight
wrapping him in the safe coccoon of my world where
all secrets fall away under the still blue eye of the moon

i didn’t worry about it though.
beauty comes and beauty goes
the only eternal beauty is the one that matches mine
i think with all the worlds we will conquer
when i meet the one who could really be my partner
the least he’ll be courageous enough to do is say hello

there is no reason why my brother should be on 9 medications.

but first, earlier tonight.

my mom wanted to introduce my dad to the mentalist, but he didn’t want to watch it. even though she’d already sat through a movie he wanted to watch. so i yelled from the other room, “i vote for the mentalist. two to one, majority rules.”

i come into the room a few minutes later and see my dad flipping through the movie channels. i look at my mom. “your dad didn’t want to watch it.”

i look at him. “you can watch one episode. and if you don’t like it, we’ll watch something else.”

“no,” he said, flipping through the channels.

i take the dvd out, open up the player and pop it in.

“don’t you dare,” he said.

i close the dvd player, and search for the remote to change the input on the tv.

“i said i didn’t want to,” my dad said.

“too bad,” i said. “this is where you learn about compromise in order to get along with people.”

i say it lightheartedly, almost jokingly, but it’s tough love. a part of me is beating icy branches of fear through my veins because i worry he might hit me, even though i’m pretty sure he’s too afraid of me walking out of his life for good to do that anymore. it hasn’t happened since i went off to college.

he gets up, throws down the remote. “you guys show me no respect,” and stormed out.

“we tried to share something we enjoy with you and you weren’t interested. your own loss,” i said.

later, i talk to my mom about my brother. she said that he’s on a new medication that makes him hyper. i tell her that i don’t think michael’s sleeping. i’m up pretty late at night and i hear him tossing and turning until all hours. he’s probably been cranky lately because there’s something disrupting his sleep cycles, and it’s tilting his moods. it’s the medication.

she showed me the list of meds to see if i recognized any uppers. i had gone in to see his doctor once for myself, and he’d offered me adderol (speed). i’m always telling my parents that he’s a drug dealer, and there’s something wrong with how they keep adding drugs to my brother’s cocktail.

i just can’t believe the list. this poor kid.

i told my mom what she needs to do is hire someone to research these meds. find out treatments and compare them. find expert opinion who can evaluate my brother’s meds and design a plan to take them off of them so we can see who he is, baseline. got in an argument with my mom, being negative about every suggestion i made, about why we would need a lawyer if we weren’t going to sue his doctor (because lawyers are experts at research. and even if they couldn’t take this on, they would know people or companies who do, because their business is built on research). but still, she was so negative, saying she didn’t have time to do all this, and asked me to do it. i told her that i’m tired of her manipulating me to do the things she didn’t want to do.

she told me that i should want to be helpful.

“so i should be helpful and always do the things you don’t want to do.”

“yes.”

“because you don’t want to do them.”

“what’s the problem?”

“i am not your secretary. you get to work with me or not at all.”

i just got tired of hearing excuses. i could do the research, but i want to see her dedicate herself to him for once, really see him and figure out how we can help him. she loves him and she’s always there in body, but he’s resorting to manipulating her with fear to get her attention.

he needs her right now and she’s trying to negotiate this.

i was disappointed, but just left the room on a sarcastic note. you can’t get mad at people. you just have to be adamant that they can be bigger people than they’re currently being.

*****
update: dad is throwing a tantrum. walked out of his room and back in, slammed door. minutes later, walked out of his room, then back in, slamming door. repeated one more time. sounds of minor banging. one loud, “FUUUUUUUCK.” then silence.

childish.

we, of course, are ignoring him. i’m blogging and my mom has finally seen the light and is researching my brother’s medications.

“it’s like a storm,” i had told her in regards to the members of our family’s tantrums. “you can get irritated with getting wet from the rain, but you can’t get mad at a storm while it’s happening. you just have to accept that it’s storming right now, and find ways to go about your life until it passes and you can come out again.”

i just act like it has nothing to do with me. and when they’re ready to have me back in their lives again, all they have to do is talk to me nicely.

i don’t want to die. i live at the next level. i want to stop having to pretend these trivial things matter in the big picture. i want the world to wake up, so that i don’t have to keep pretending to be asleep anymore.

you can be both intuitive and logical. often intuition is logic happening at such a speed or running in a background program that the process may not be conscious, but it doesn’t make it less logical.

i think i’m tired of how petty humans can be. how narrow the vision. brings out the worst in people, the things of this world. and the closer i get to others who aren’t conscious, it sucks me in, into the blindness, the narrowness, until i’m reduced to a role i need to play to defend myself within this made up world of ego, hierarchy and illusion. and then when i remove myself and can see it with perspective, i see its just that sucking whirlpool that draws us in to things that are not even real, but the negative ego forces that enslave our beings. if each person just listened to their own feelings about things, strived to be better, kinder, more conscious. took better care of themselves. refused to give power, attention or reverence to people who are misbehaving. became more aware of the truth of situations and refused to feed the negative… they would be able to free themselves and others from these negative perpetuating cycles.

i am tired of all this. i’m tired of all this unconsciousness. selfishness. martyrdom. this hamster wheel of bullshit. come find me if you’re real, but otherwise, leave me alone. i haven’t got time to listen to how you carefully manufactured your own personal hell. I haven’t got time to listen to you tell me about all the things you’re unhappy about in your life yet refuse to do anything about it. I haven’t got time to let you chip away at my view of the world when yours is so bleak that you need me to confirm it so you can feel comfortable in owning your own nightmare. i won’t let you resent me for my strength, i won’t let you keep cutting at my wings–you will make a grave error, mistaking tolerance for weakness. come find me if you have real things to share, if you’re also striving for truth, to make something of this life experience. otherwise, don’t bring your hand-crafted tragedies to me. they are not impressive.