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Neverclever plays games. Tonight she lost. She lost to a girl in Texas, got abandoned by a man in Amsterdam, lost in a sloppy game to 45 year old man in Riverside and finally lost by one to a young boy in Turkey with bad English and annoying questions. She lied to him, in so many ways. She would’ve felt better to beat his ass. Neverclever is usually a little quicker witted. She’s accustom to lucky rolls at opportune moments. She’s sometimes known to be the comeback queen. Not tonight. bg a/s/l, 31 f LA, nr, ty gg :) brb
There’re two kinds of drivers on the 10 when it’s open road. Those who understand the left lane should be kept clear for 70-80 mph traffic and those who drive 60 mph, thinking that their lives belong in the fast lane even when it’s an open road out the passenger window. So there’s an art to driving the 10 across town, keeping the pace without causing any trouble. The 110 passage is all about placement - get all the way on quickly, ride past the exits, take the open middle before dipping finally into the right lane for the 101.
I could write 100 words without any spaces but would that still count as 100 words? Oh that’s a dumb gimmick - but sometimes people appreciate silly transparent tricks.
100 words express: I could write a 10 word sentence and repeat it 10 times. Oh I do complicate things don’t I? I could just write one word 100 times. But that’s been done.
But what you want to hear is the story of the mouse who changed time or the story of Jane ripping her dress while trying to change her tire
But those stories have to wait
I can smoke a cigarette, change a CD and drive a car all at once. I can live in the present while preparing for the future. I can make tea, talk on the phone, dance and clean the dishes simultaneously. I can do a good job while I’m bored. I can type these words while occupied by other thoughts. I can make lists and accomplish the tasks at the same time. I can set goals and set my mind against accomplishing them all in a single minute. I resist an itch, prolong a conversation, relax and smile all at once.
In Kenya, we hired the only neighbor within miles with a truck to take a bunch of us up the slopes of Mt Kenya towards the forest to visit the site of their water project. Returning the truck stalled. The men tinkered and determined it had run out of gas. We pushed it a ways and then coasted home down the hill. A boy was sent into town with a container to get gas. I said, “oh then you can drive to town to fill it.” He said, “No, then I have gas. Why waste it driving to get more?”
“You are going through a time in your life in which you have the opportunity to make tremendous advances for improvement.”
I could use another beer.
my boss complemented me on a job well done. He saw it as a milestone asking if I’m happier now. His question was obviously wrong. But it signified an opening of the door to my solitary confinement.
It’d be impossible not to mention Liz’s 32nd birthday. On the phone she sounded happy and tipsy. It’s odd to take pause and notice 32. I remember celebrating our 18th birthdays and obviously many before and since.
The days are long, the sun staying with us well into the evening. I like that. It was overcast most of the day but everywhere I went I could smell the spring flowers, especially the freesia – at least that’s what I think those little white flowers are called that smell so divine. Then there are the trees that are suddenly in bloom everywhere that cry tiny flowers and carpet the pavements in purple. Locals call it June gloom and while I hate the overcast mornings, I anticipate warmer breezes and love the longer days, fresh smells and emerging colors. Smiles.
There’re so many markets and systems out there that I have little or no knowledge of. I find the vast unknown worlds out there intimidating. Potential is daunting. It’s like the first day at a new school, not knowing what you are walking into. I’ve just spent some time reading about photography markets and I don’t understand them but it was clear that once you understand the landscape it isn’t so complicated. And then I realize that wherever I’m sent in the Peace Corps will be the same thing, entering a completely foreign culture and having to figure it out.
I had a photo shoot at my place today. When I confirmed the plans yesterday I thought, hell I have nothing to loose. Then I got set up, I thought through everything and got excited. Kathy and Jake came over and we ended up not needing half of what I set up. I don’t have professional lighting and I’m not really sure I understand all the concepts, but I’ll pick that up as I go along. I am certain that I got some great shots. During the whole process I treated it like practice, enlisting them to come back again.
Wanting to witness the collision in the sky of the brilliant sun and the wayward moon I got in my car and drove west towards the beach. The sky was clear blue and the light was intense. Walking along the sand I came across a couple with a baby who’d created a pinhole camera to view the eclipse by poking a small hole in a baby wipe. With sunglasses on, looking through the hole in the baby wipe the bright sun was in the shape of a crescent moon with blinding incandescent beams of twilight. The moon slowly moved on.
No complaints today at all. I’ve fallen back into the job I didn’t mind for so many years, accepting the drudgery and grunt work that comes with it. I’ve been able to stay clear headed, concentrate and genuinely smile. At the end of the day a new, interesting, qualitative project that will take me to Chicago next week came my way. The briefing held me up. I got to the photo store 5 minutes after closing. It wasn’t too long ago that I wouldn’t have assumed I could make it anywhere by six but it feels like a lifetime ago.
I was the last cut from the Varsity field hockey team so I played JV. We only played four games and I don’t think we ever scored. We were behind in the final game and I was on the bench. The varsity coach appeared in the last 10 minutes. She looked at my coach and said “What are you doing? Get Jillson in there.”
Jacki today said she’s thrilled that I’ve been assigned to work with her.
“Someone who really understands advertising.”
I’m happy to work with someone who appreciates my abilities. I’ve been on the bench for too long.
As I sit here trying to come up with an appropriate subject to suit my silly mood I find I’m rather sleepy even though the night is still young. There’re birds chirping in the yard as darkness is setting in. I have a whisker on my chin that needs to be plucked. If I’d dropped the baking sheet in the kitchen, I would’ve burned my toes. My horoscope this week says I should find 47 different ways to express my pent-up frustrations and spend an hour each day letting it all out. That’s advice I may follow. Sounds like fun.
After the Lakers parade passed, I left the office window and went out into the streets to wonder in the dispersing crowd. There was a black man just standing on the corner dressed in a golden yellow, ankle length coat, matching pants and – get this – a matching cowboy style hat. Dressed to the nines. His wingtip shoes were beige and golden yellow silk stripes. To complete the picture, he had a babe clinging on his arm with long braided extensions. Crowds of Lakers shirts mulled in every direction, but they stood there on the corner posed and upright. Another world.
It’s strange to notice my perspective changing. People are surprised when they find out how well my parents live and I’ve taken pride that they can’t tell. But now I’m starting to see the downsides of discounting my up bringing. Well, it’s not like I never appreciated it, or intentionally acted differently then my natural reaction to things. I’ve just never gone out of my way to fit into the rich or intellectual social circles my parents worked so hard to be apart of. Now I’m starting to see the differences and the values of making a few simple efforts.
I suck stuff up, like weird stories, strange statements, surreal moments and odd moods. Then I spit it back at the source at unexpected moments ages later. Everyone’s got their thing, their wit, spectacular charm or magnetic appeal for unusual occurrences. Well timed regurgitation, linking off-beats with normalcy is mine. Tonight I sat there quiet for the most of the evening and I wondered what I was bringing to the martini table anyway. I realized I was sucking up everything. I’d been in need of a refill. There’re several wires within me that are about to make a charged connection.
Have I gone about everything all wrong? Have I shrugged off sentiment too many times? Have I fooled anyone acting like I’m a tough extraverted woman? Have I hidden from love in the past or rushed into it too blindly? How the fuck did I get here? Could you please tell me where I am? Do I pay attention to what I really care about? Will I ever learn to take good care of myself? Will I ever find someone who I care about who also wants to be cared for? How can I admit that I care and need?
Doors re-opening at work led to increased opportunities and suddenly I have a full work load, no support and extra stress. It's days like these when being a single urban professional women is a challenge. I recognize the need for a traditional wife. It's past 7pm and I'm at work. I'll be up before 5am for a flight to Chicago. My laundry is sitting wrinkled in the dryer. There's no home cooked meal waiting for me and not many options in the refrigerator. Warm slippers, a glass of wine and a deep back massage would also be appreciated about now.
I wear a chain smoking, pint drinking persona that guided me through adolescence molding me into a free thinking, laid back adult. These vices became both my foundation and my expression. They are what I know. In many respects as my attitudes have developed I’ve grown away from such vices. As I examine it, I see this persona doesn’t suit me anymore but it’s still glued to my joints. It’ll soon be time for me to shed this old skin I’m so accustom to carrying around. I need to seek the necessary solvents. Solvents for my soul, spirit and body.
I spent five spare minutes of my whirl wind trip to Chicago talking to my brother from a gate at O’Hare airport. I couldn’t spend almost a day in Chicago with out touching base with my family there.
“Peace Corps, eh?” He said right off
So he has heard. I talk to him so rarely.
Then he dived right into life choices and how he more firmly believes than his wife (even if he doesn’t completely live that way) that if you follow your interests that money and happiness will eventually also come.
My choices inspire my brother’s soul searching.
Sound bite: “And then he said yes,”
The sun finally came out for the summer solstice.
Try a bench on Sunset next to the DJ with beaming eyes. A little like Berkley, like the most intense collision of the Village with California freaks of all sorts.
An angry girl uncomfortable waiting.
“They’re all young and dumb.”
“What makes a women smart?”
“Travel.” pause “Or big breasts. So where are you from?”
I Laugh. “You want to know where these breasts have been? Name a city.”
I watched a cockroach work it’s way across the street.
And then he said yes.
This here is like paying the piper before I sleep. Everyday I have to have at least something to say. An idea, a description, an event. I wish all my ideas were big enough to fill100 words. It’s when my mind is working overtime that I have less to say. I need someone with wit strong enough to call my bluff. They come parading by puffed up like roosters full of hot steam and one by one I can their bluff and they shuffle away with their tails between their legs. Where are the true hearts and the fun times?
I tried to stuff four dozen helium balloons into my car today. It was a comical scene. They didn’t all fit. Eventually I sorted it out by floating some out the window. Other drivers on the road smiled and honked at me and I made it to the party with only a half dozen casualties.
At the 5 year olds birthday party I met my ex-boyfriend’s ex-wife. She was nice to me and I’m happy that she’d made that choice. Rumor had it that she feared me. But over the years we’ve both become extensions this odd mix of family.
It’s an accomplishment that I cooked myself dinner tonight. I’m in an all or nothing mode – wanting it all, having the energy for nothing. I should be focused, and energized. I should have a life and mind that is structured differently. I shouldn’t find it so hard to make priorities and follow them through. I shouldn’t be so uncomfortable with my own internal dialogue. I shouldn’t be so tiered and I certainly shouldn’t be so hard on myself. I’m telling you these words are a chore today but I’m disciplined enough to write em. There’s tons of hope for tomorrow.
Recent radio highlights:
Searching for The Original Rays pizza is one of those NYC things. Every Rays is THE original full of pride and myth. Explaining the importance of finding authenticity, the guy with the quest says “New York is the center of the world.” Ray responds “What are you, an NYU student?”
Connoisseurs comparing chocolates: one starts bitter but falls flat upon the tongue while another explodes with full bodied taste – hints of jasmine.
A guy with a microphone and tape recorder on public transportation recording people’s cell phone conversations with a calling card printed: Anytime minutes recorded everywhere.
I should’ve known it’d be a crappy day when I woke with bald Miss O’Connor singing in my head…
I went to the doctor and guess what he told me, guess what he told me, guess what he told me. He said girl you better try to have fun no matter what you do. He’s a fool.
So my nemeses got promoted. I knew it was coming but it’s still hard to deal with, like when someone’s been sick and dying for ages and then it finally happens.
Then I got a message from a friend that her dad died.
I attended the funeral of the father of a disjointed family of five children. Each of their life stories could make you double over in shocked laughter, cringe with remorse and shake your head with pop psychology knowledge. But they gathered to acknowledge and honor their father in an honest, heartfelt way obliged also to nod at his imperfections. I saw my friend surrounded by her siblings and was moved by how they drew together in such an instinctively supportive way that wouldn’t have been possible had they been closer. Strangely, I’m more full of life than I was yesterday.
Another zombie day at the office. I’m glad they don’t happen so often anymore because it’s a very depressing mode. It’s good I had plans tonight because dinner, drinks and a movie snapped me out of it. I actually have a rather busy weekend ahead and I need my sleep. Today I may have been a zombie but overall it’s been an intense week both at work and outside of work. Yadda yadda yadda That’s all folks. I’m wasting space and I hate that! Especially when I have so many plots in my head but that’s life and so forth…
I get booty.
What? That booty?
No. Sometimes I’m moody.
Oh. Well. Happy Birthday.
I’m not so sure about that booty. But I sure did kick some ass tonight. I got my house in order and bills paid and next vacation booked. Then friends came over and streamed in and out. Then we went to the Short Stop.
Short stop – stop short, too much salsa music
The bar was stoned
Shotgun hits in the smokers corridor
Hips moving at a variety of rhythms on the dance floor
Booties in motion surrounding us
A moody birthday boy out on the town
I had a yard sale with a friend. I’m left with $50 extra cash, a few less possessions and sunburned arms. Yard sale shoppers, there were some real characters today. The Asian fan man. He needed to go inside and plug it in to test it. I said $4. He raised 3 fingers. I said no four. I raised four fingers. He gave me three dollars. I said no it’s four. He shook his head and walked away with the fan. He came back. He was interested in the vacuum. Could he plug it in? two fingers. No It’s $100.
The Tip Jar