Ran into so many people. Magnetic in my California return.
If, rather than distinguishing life from imagination, we assume that all perceptions are real. Doesn’t matter if we got them from live people within live experiences, but everything we see, hear, imagine, every message through every media that has come through to us, that out of all this randomness, the things you happen to remember, or that you happen to experience, are things you were meant to find. A man born in the middle of the ocean will know only water and sky. and once he knows land, he will know water, sky and land. We understand the world only by what we are exposed to, and eventually, what we believe.
I started to pay attention to everything as though it were a movie but I am the protagonist. Meanwhile, billions of other movies play out around me, sometimes where I’m a mere extra, sometimes where I’m a guest or supporting character. But assuming that I’m in a movie, there’s a good director out there who is telling a meaningful story. So I look for supporting stars, listen for soundtrack. Wonder where am I being led to, notice when I should leave because a scene is too long. And if that is the case, and I am a character being directed by a purposeful storyteller, then I have to look for clues around me to understand what the creator wants of me.
So if everything I perceive, if I perceive it then it was meant to be, then what’s most real is the information that shapes my world. It doesn’t matter the source. It matters only that it connects things for me. Like an amnesiac making her way back through memory. Except moving forward.
Searching for home this week. None of them feel like home. I can’t find myself here. Then I stay an extra day to go to a bbq. Need to cheat a little playing Battleship with my 6 year-old cousin so that he doesn’t utterly destroy me. Spend time appreciating areas outside of Fremont.
Headed to LA on Saturday, in time for sunset, of course. First, Abbott Kinney. Said what’s up to the Ethiopian doorman at Other Room. Tells me to come by later when it’s busy; gets distracted by a girl walking back from the beach with big tits. Changed shirt, went to Urth to read over a fresh-herbed turkey on ciabatta and decaf honey vanilla latte. Sat in the corner looking at this girl in a low-cut shirt, drinking tea from a small press. She looked like she wanted to be noticed, yet was already angry. I smiled at her. She looked startled. Was approached by two Israeli guys who I’d seen tittering about me earlier in line. What are you?, they asked. I took a moment for that question. That is such a big question. The cone-shaped Commando looking guy made a gesture towards his face. Where is your family from?, he asked. I can’t tell.
I laughed. Told him a lot of people can’t tell.
Got glamoured by a gay guy with a scorpion-tail who may or not be playing straight, but was trying to get me to fall for his “availability.” But I have a tail of my own. He gave me the look, the one that ends with narrowing of the eyes that pops with sexual intensity. And I caught him by the tail (I’d had a dream about having to grab a snake by the neck before he even knew I was there). I recognized him before he recognized me. And laughed. He looked surprised and laughed, too, if not looking a bit vulnerable. He was there with a girl, directed her to get a table outside. Meanwhile, positioned himself in my line of vision, trying to catch my eye. I ignored him. I don’t have a second step.
Lot of attention. Lot of people trying to get another look. The angry girl had been staring at me after the Israelis. I could feel her questioning what it was about me. I know she saw some of it. One guy came right up, said, “hi,” then walked away like that’s as much as his courage had planned for. I knew she was trying to figure it out. But silently, she slipped away, her press still mostly full.
A couple of LA Sheriffs, a tall Native-American looking kid and a Hispanic woman in her 30’s, came in for take-out. They stood leaning against my table and didn’t even notice I was there. They took up half of my table, yet they were so engrossed in conversation, they didn’t even notice me taking pictures of them. She was discussing with him what to get for a coworker’s birthday. “How about a stripper?” she asked. He wasn’t sure how the guy would take it. “Maybe a blow up doll?” At some point the guy realized I was basically a third party in this conversation taking place in a corner. He pulled her to the other side of the room, and I could see her look of confusion as he whispered into her ear and pointed to me. I smiled and waved. She covered her mouth in horror. They both look horrified. Imagine if I had asked for their badge numbers and played it serious like I was going to write a letter. But I yelled, “Tell me about the guy. I would love to help you find a gift.” I left a while later and they were hanging out by their car, drinking coffee. I waved and said goodnight. They smiled and waved, like we’d shared something happy.
Headed back to The Other Room. Found a seat in the very corner that I’ve never sat in. Could see the whole room. Seemed the light was even brighter from here. Still magnetic. I was so hidden in the corner, you had to push through people at the bar on one side and people seated with their legs out at tables on the other to get to it. Vertical twister. It was hazard alley–inevitably only the best of the best could get multiple drinks away from the bar through the obstacle course without spilling. At first I wasn’t sure about that spot because it was inaccessible. It would be hard to find people to talk to. But then the view was great. I could see the whole room. The strange thing was, it was like that night at Amber. It was almost like people had taken a number. A lot of people trying to catch my eye, I smiled at some if they smiled, but I didn’t commit to anything. Then after the first guy came up, a Scottish version of the lyrical poet, these guys just kept showing up. Usually they would squeeze up next to me and order a drink, but then start up a conversation about one thing or another. I would listen until I was bored, being friendly but not going out of my way. After I stopped talking, they would leave, and then another guy would step up. I remember one guy who only talked about beer and was recommending different types (he was nice enough but only had one topic). He left and I talked to some other people. It was funny how it was like an interview process that no one else but us were in on. But these girls who had sat down next to me, while watching one guy approaching with his eyes fixed on me, looked at me like this was the craziest thing. I laughed and shrugged and they laughed as well.
I didn’t really meet anyone interesting but the Scot kept coming back and at least he was cool. I saw a guy in a beanie walk up to the bar and our eyes met. He looked, I smiled, then took in the rest of the scene. Then I saw him talking to the beer guy and so I assumed they were friends. A few minutes later, beer guy comes up to introduce me to his friend, this dude John. Says he’s a local musician, so I’m talking to John. After beer guy walks away, John asks me how I know beer guy. We just met, I said. Really?, he said. He said he thought we were friends so he’d asked him to introduce us. As I’m talking to Saint John, this dark guy who looks like Nick keeps staring at me, trying to get me my attention. I mean, just staring. John leaves but before Not Nick can make a move (or maybe he was trying to make me, which wasn’t going to happen), this guy named Dan shows up. He looked like he was maybe 40. He was nice enough, the most fun conversation of all of them. He liked KCRW so we were talking about Morning Becomes Eclectic and I told him about the Miike Snow show. He asked me if I’d been looking at him, and to be honest, I was looking at everyone. And in certain lighting at a distance, some people kind of look the same.
Were you the guy over there who was smiling at me? I asked, pointing in the general direction of the bar.
Yeah, he said.
Did I smile back?, I asked.
OH yeah, he said.
Meanwhile Not Nick is pointing at him and shaking his head, mouthing to me that I should lose this guy. What is he, 9? I ignore him.
The bar closes down and I leave. As I’m crossing the street, Not Nick comes running after me, almost getting hit by a car. I’m kind of moving away telling him we should get out of the street, but he’s just staring at me. Then he says, “Can we, like, get together?” Oh, he’s so young. I can tell. I’m from out of town, I say. I’m leaving tomorrow. But it was it was nice meeting you.
Walk to my car. A happy Hispanic guy waiting at the light says hi and asks me how my night is. He invites me to hang out but I decline. I get in my car as he pulls away, then realize I want to take a picture of the moon. Get out again. Brake lights. He stops. I realize maybe he thinks I’ve changed my mind? Take a quick picture of the moon. Leave.
Next day. Urth Cafe in Venice. Sit next to an older gentleman with mean eyes, his wife, and two 13 year-old boys, one of whom was Asian. I was writing, and then started kind of tweaking out. Just energies really heavy around me. Just as I was starting to get worried, suddenly behind me, BANG! And the whole courtyard gasps. I turn around, and there’s the server with a tray, these huge 24 oz tumblers with frozen boba drinks, but they looked like bowling pins. The ground below was a sea of green slush. He was staring at his tray like he didn’t understand how this happened, like the tray had somehow been struck by lightning. To be honest, that’s how it looked. Even the family was speechless. Then one of the boys asked in shock, “How did that happen?” The server whispered, “I’m so sorry. So sorry,” and wiped the guy’s shoe with the tiniest hand towel. The man jumped up angrily and made of show of wiping slush off his legs. The boy said again, “I don’t understand. How did that happen to his tray?” The wife said, “Shhh,” the husband scowled and the poor server kept apologizing like he’d fallen on someone’s wedding cake. I looked at a guy at the next table.
“How did that happen?” I asked him.
“I don’t know,” he said. “That was insane.”
The server was still apologizing and the guy was fuming so I said, it’s okay, it happens. I kept saying it to the server who’s head was hung so low. The manager came up and he put his hands on his shoulders, his eyes searching the family for clues to how they wanted him to handle the situation. All you need is a mop, I said to him. No big deal. We have a mop, he said. Good, I said.
They cleaned it up but I had to get out of there. I realized how strange it would look, I had ordered a sandwich and coffee, but to leave it completely untouched. But I had to get out of there. The courtyard at Urth has a ramp that leads to the street outside. I went out. Took a few deep breaths. What caused that? Was that energy? Did it come from me?
I went back in after a few minutes, asked for a box, then took everything. It was more like covering evidence than really wanting it. I went to my car. Sat and listened to music for a while, thinking. Then I looked all around. How strange. I got out of my car. Across the street was one of those red trees from Fremont. But when I got out of my car, I saw the whole intersection and up and down the street were lined with them. I spent so much time here, and I never noticed one of my favorite places was lined with these trees. Took a walk. Took a drive.
Met up with Brian. Had a bunch of tickets to distribute. One of the guys who bought a ticket used to open for them and told us about a secret show after where Miike Snow was doing a DJ set and got me added to the list (B declined). We wandered around, went to the roof deck. Brian never knew it was there. I told him that was the best part of the venue–warm, moonlit nights looking at the city view from that deck. Show was starting. Went to the bathroom. Came out and saw a guy smiling so I smiled back. Brian asked, isn’t that a certain actor. I thought so, I said. Later, at the after party as I was flying solo, both he and the Sag from that 90’s band were watching me, trying to get me to approach. It was very interesting bait. Either I am being shown that I need to develop a 2nd step, or I’m being reminded that I don’t chase. With the actor though, I was coming off of drawing a Pisces so it wasn’t as hard it could have been. He was watching me from the corner, and he’d already caught my smile. And I was watching him without watching him. When he separated from the group and moved out of his corner a few feet away from me, leaning against the wall in a pose, I knew he had put himself in a position for me to make the first move. But I also know that I can’t win when they’re playing their game with their rules. It would have been an interesting story. He would like me. But I decided that it wasn’t worth it unless he opened things with me. Same with the Sag who was watching from the same side, other corner. I’m not that kind of girl who eats bait. I don’t care who you are. Meet me halfway and I will meet you halfway. It’s not about power but about balance. I’m worth it.
Concert was amazing. Lights ethereal, just like I would see in my dream world when the song Silvia would wake me up in the middle of the night. And to hear that whole crowd singing along to the opening verse of Silvia…amazing. Like being swept by a wave only to wake up in bed on a beautiful Sunday morning.
Monday notes. Went to Joan’s on 3rd. Guy in line was very enthusiastic in talking to me. Saw Jeremy Piven by the soda machine. I’ve been open to talking to him again since he was my craziest interview from college where I swear he was high and being a douche. But he was wearing black and trying to look important so while a synchronicity was there, I declined. An Israeli guy sits at the table next to me on the patio. Next thing I know, the two Israeli’s from Saturday show up. They can’t believe they ran into me again. It’s fate, they said. It’s a small city, I said.
Later that day, at Coffee Bean, ran into the guy who plays David on Numbers. He’s someone else I’ve also watched closely because his presence conveys kindness and depth. I would have loved to sit with him and talk to him about spirituality. He left, and I thought, oh well, but then he came back because they got his order wrong. I was at a table, and watching him, and he would look up and smile. Just friendly, person-to-person smiles. He looked like he was in a hurry so there was no point in opening a conversation. We might have a chance in the future. When he left, he looked over and smiled again. It was a good-feeling.
Spent time with Lauren. She’s pregnant. Wants to move to Singapore. Looks great.
One time, Brian was walking around in his boxers and Michael said, “You walk around in your underwear in front of your landlord?” I needed to borrow a pair of shorts to sleep in because I’d worked out in mine, so Brian loaned me boxers. I walked into the kitchen wearing them. “Are these the shorts you wear in front of your landlord?” Absolutely, he said.
I was laying on the floor reading a book about spirituality while B watched “The City.” What show is this?, I asked him.
One of the ones you think makes you stupid just by being in the same room as it, he said.
Things learned this week:
1. My milkshake brought it.