I’m just trying out my windows live writer to see if it really connects to my blog. Don’t get excited. I’m not actually writing my blog or anything..

In good company

I just had to post some of these incredible pictures from this years housesitting adventure in Danville. We look forward to that August get away every year. I love my friends and their children so much there are no words. 20 years of incredible friendship makes a life.
My friend Keith (who I have recently hooked up with again after ten years being MIA -thank-you again Facebook), was telling me of his awful real estate misfortunes and the financial horrors that followed that initial bad investment.. I said "oh man how have you coped with all of this?" He responded " well, I've been in good company". -Referring to his wife and 3 small girls. High-five to that brother. Thank goodness we can still decipher real value.

Scared soup

I’ve had a strange week or more. I have been a hearty mix of terrified and depressed with a splash of utter detachment thrown in. Zac is not here. He’s mad at me or I am mad at him- I can’t remember which. I just keep thinking, “WHO I AM TRYING TO KID?” Wouldn’t it be easier if I just moved back to the jungle and stopped this whole charade? Being a grown-up comes easily to some. For me it is literally a long tumble UP a steep hill. Makes no sense? Not to me either.

I keep picturing owning an Airstream to match my mother’s. I wonder where I would put mine? Maybe Morro Bay or Mount Shasta? Sounds lovely. Considering I can’t buy a car with bad credit right now and am spending 800$ a month on a renta-car, I highly doubt I’ll find it any easier to accumulate an RV. Or whatever that thing is.
I HATE credit ratings and I HATE the IRS and Avis.
Good Morning Life!
Blow me!

Ok, gratitude. I’ll give you a shot.

Thank you life for providing me an income that allows me to rent a car indefinitely. I am actually proud of myself for keeping all the “bill balls” in the air. Thank you for my gift as a massage therapist- I keep my clients for years and meet new ones all the time. I adore the people in my life here, even the complete neurotic, hypochondria tic ones
(You know who you are). Thanks Mom for offering to help (though you were not accepted by the supposed struggling car companies; your offer meant THE WORLD to me).
I have been meeting with a group of 3 other women on Wednesdays to try to be life coaches for each other. They are gifted and loving and intelligent in totally unique ways. They think I am “amazing”. A word I have had not thrown in my direction for some time. I got called that often when I was in my 20’s. “Amazing” got nudged out and replaced by some other descriptive words I think. I have been defining myself by my fat body lately, remembering the delight and ease ego once bestowed on me. Merely two years ago I frolicked around in tiny jeans and it felt fantastic. Now? I beat myself up constantly and bore my boyfriend to near death with my self- loathing. Whatever it takes to bring me to my spiritual knees I guess; to be a better HUMAN; to share gifts and not just a great ass. That’s the real deal. What do I really have to offer?

My last blog was written under the influence of alcohol. I don’t even know what I was trying to say. Regarding my lack of blogage, my friend Melly said, “It’s like you got sick or injured or died 2 years ago.” HOW AWFUL!!
I vowed then and there to start writing again.
No, I have not fallen ill, I have fallen in love!
I’m pondering my lack of focus, really… My ability to concentrate has been compromised and I am forced to ask myself “why?” Abraham say’s “Genius is really only the ability to focus”. Somehow I totally get this concept; maybe love just makes me stupid? Probably get no argument there… In any case, I feel like I am coming around, or landing, or whatever. I can relax, focus, be me, do me stuff and be in love. Maybe I feel more secure now. I am confident I won’t be left behind because I’m too difficult or too fat. Maybe it’s the B-12/6 shots. WHATEVER. Here it is and I’m going with it.

I’m going to sum the love part up here and now and then promise to lay the topic to rest.
I still after two years, very much look forward to next thing out of Zac’s mouth.
My boy is hysterical and these examples prove my point.

Him: I never liked Pac-man.
Me: How come?
Him: I don’t like being chased the whole time; I want to be the chaser.

While watching Steel Magnolia’s… chick dying, all sad…
Him: Is your vagina glowing like when Orks are near Frodo’s sword “Sting”?

Me: Wow! Did your mom paint that tiger on the wall?
Him: (yells from the next room) Yes. It’s an Asian predator.

Me: What’s the opposite of nocturnal?
Him: Diurnal. (No pause what-so-ever)

(While begging to leave his house and not knowing why he is still watching an internet war scene)
Me: Why are we still sitting here?
Him: 3000 rounds per minute baby, that’s why.

(While watching some new age lady on the Dog Whisperer talk about the “journey” she and her dog are on together)
Me: No human being should ever say the word journey.
Him: “Yeah, that should be reserved for hobbits only. Unless your Bilbo Baggins don’t say it.”

(Again TV)
Me: He seems gay.
Him: Yeah, He’s got some sugar in his tank.

He calls little dogs “high-steppers”.

He also tells me he loves me “more than a fat kid loves cake” and that I am his favorite person.

Need I say more?

Bear with me...

I live alone in theory. My boyfriend spends most nights with me in my “bohemian love shack”. It is a” find”, a “gem” in the most pretentious neighborhood in the most pretentious city in America. Los Angeles, Ca. (though, if you are approaching 40 rapidly like I am, it is more appropriately described as an over-priced guest house in a bitter, Brentwood, divorces’ unkempt backyard). I have managed though to find some pride in this cabin while still bitching about it’s difficulties. It has no kitchen, I climb up and down a ladder to pee in the middle of the night, and said land- lady is consistently inconsistent with her wavering like and dislike of me. I kiss ass and then blow up at her about every 6 months when I can no longer stand the oppression. Regardless, I feel blessed. I feel chosen not to be dependent on mortgage crisis outcomes." Freedom is nothing left to lose but a late nineties model car and a rented shack". I feel successful in actuality. No home loans or credit card debt. Fuck the world!
Then there is love…
I met an incredible man. He is smart, creative, and gorgeous in an “unfair to others” kind of way. He is forthcoming with his verbal affections, funny, and cool, cool, cool. He challenges my temper. His temper is bigger. This is necessary for our compatibility at any length. My years of “loves disappointments” require certain levels of alpha domination. I could scare the mafia at this point with my unbridled explosiveness. More importantly, I scare myself. I see a need to teardown and burn any structure that does not appear or project complete acceptance (“If you do not want me always, I don’t want you now”). I would rather run than be run from. It is very topical and transparent in its psychological dysfunction. This is one of my biggest fears realized. To be sociologically and culturally partitioned by my common behavioral habits and patterns. It is absolutely boring in the grand scheme of perceptual bias and non-physical, quantum existence. I chose spiritual leadership and collective vision upon my arrival into this body and have gone temporarily belly up into an ill perceived, emotionally attached, bland, human experience. I cry all the time. I beg to not be left. I leave to find relief. I question my stability. I even question my desire to be alive. I then gurgle and bubble over in the comfort of accepting flesh and muscle and the vibrations of kind and light words. I live my days minute by minute, misery to elation; elation to misery. This is based on one human’s availability and subsequent distance. It is based on my hyper focus and then convenient distraction of others temporary attentions. The “dark” to me is now a life that I lived quite comfortably, quite recently. It terrifies me to return to a place I wasn’t so dissatisfied with to begin with; a place not so scary at all. I regret this present failure of spirit. I believe I am competitive and potentially even egotistical in the elusive “God” world. Ha! I’ll kick your archangel, enlightened, source-full, ass’s yet! Someone will channel my California accented voice one day too, mutha fuckas’!
If I can sort out the details of these pesky little bumps in my spiritual off -roading. I’m four-wheeling in low gear across a river… AGAIN.

Dog sitting up North

yo-sa-might

What could motivate me to drive 7 hours in a car with a perpetual "check engine" light on, expired tags due to astronomical unpaid parking ticket fines, and gas prices at 4.55$ a gallon?
A cabin in Yosemite and my favorite sisters ever. Sarah and Charlotte. Throw in a archeologist from brazil that has found inner freedom- like, for real, a biker chic that can stuff a mean mushroom and dance the night away, a doctor who travels with a cross bow set at 42 lbs of resistance, and a dog that growls and bites if anyone hugs,plays, or laughs around her, and you got yourself a weekend not soon forgotten.

wedding poem

So, like, one of my clients asked me if I would write a wedding poem for her Dad to read at his son's (her brother's) wedding. How weird is that? He can't come up with something to say about his own kid? Anywho- this is what came out. I obviously projected some deep feelings that I couldn't access without my having present relations with you know who..



When the sky desires more height to accommodate your life and the earth seeks a deeper depth to mimic your solidarity; you have found a love meant.

Love meant for bigger and yet simpler words, for science to complicate the known laws, yet clarity for the least understood.

For we all know a feeling. We all marvel at the origin and differ on the road to its arrival, but commune and celebrate the gift of its present, presence.

We understand an appreciation so great and important that any challenge or fear of being misunderstood is given the best of our best, the deepest of our breath, to let it live.

In a real loves life, it craves no immortality, desires no constant relief, and doesn’t see a false end of quiet, happy sleep. It is all that it is without expectation. It is a constant companion down an unknown path.

Love lacks lonely, lacks an empty reach, and a blank stare.
Loves gives the deepest eye contact, the warmest hand, and the safest flesh.
It protects the ones without a need and needs the unprotected.

This love is without a poem.
It is the poetry.
It needs not your attention because it is the last second, this second, and the one to come.

It is a real life, with real love, with no comments, validations, opinions, or speeches.

It behaves like children in arms.
Safe and sleepy, alive in you, alive in them.

We all believe in ourselves, because of your love.

Busted!

So there is only ONE good thing about your boyfriend discovering your blog. You have to write about other things. Ok, but first I have to write about him reading my blog.
He knew it existed, I wasn't hiding it. He just never seemed too interested in it so I figured he never would be. Then my dumb-butt left it up on the screen and dashed out to work. Needless to say, it was a long night once I returned. He was not too happy about a few things. OLD entries about ex-not-even-boyfriends, my making fun of him for asking me where I am going at 4 am, etc.. I get why that pissed him off, I shouldn't of said that. Especially since I secretly enjoy it.( "I say that to be sweet Stef! I don't think you're going to fricken' Arby's!)
I think I was more embarrassed that he read the gushy/kid/marriage/stuff on there. Not that I ever hold back anyway but it is different on a big screen. We'll, anyway I love him. He is the most multi-faceted, can't put him in a box, coolest person ever. I'll not be able to not write about him ever. Who am I kidding?

Thank-you to all the people that said Happy Birthday to me!
Little Devin saying "I love you, Happy Birthday" in her tiny voice is tops. Dad's big birthday song on my machine, and Hanna and Bobby's cat even called me. Just to name a few.
Lastly, everyone should have one of these cameras. The laughs didn't stop for an hour. These are the best 2 pics of Melly and me.

lovely words

Not to be a total cheese-ball but I have to say there is one other man I have gotten to say "I love you TOO" to and that is my Dad. Just had to throw that in. Thanks Dad!

I love this.. Ode to Melly Cat, my fabulous friend

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars." -- Jack Kerouac, On the Road

Crumply's

I've been really going through a lot lately. I'll admit that turning 37 is messing me all up. My boyfriend wants to have a kid. Yes, a child. With me. He will MARRY me. I closed that window. I never craved motherhood like some people do. I never have heard the tick of my own biological clock. I listen for it.. Still nothing. I feel strange because of this. Am I emotionally shut down? Numb? Been predominantly with the "wrong guy" thus far, knowing I could never trust them to father any child of mine, so I just turned that switch to the off position? I have sucked up alot in this life, hardened up to deal with the most difficult of men. Tony had me followed by the Hell's Angels one night to see where I was "really" going. I woke up to a fax that had all my personal info and where-abouts sent by "Dirty-D". Johnny used to drink a lot when I first met him. He ran around the farm with a loaded shot gun trying to shoot the wild horses one night. I had to talk the gun out of his hands. Sean used to slam his head against a wall and scream when he was frustrated- which was often. Father material folks. I am not opposed to having a kid. Zac said "The best thing you can do for a child is love their mother" or something to that effect. He would be responsible, hands-on, committed- I believe. But what if he's NOT??? What if this girl, this 37 year old girl, that can barely deal with her outdoor cat, ended up alone with a small appendage and a dried up massage career? Oh man. My friends with kids are warriors. Brave soldier-etts. The whole damn thing scares the daylights out of me. I can't even write about it anymore. Did I mention how ENORMOUS my boobs will be? OK, honestly though. It is nice to imagine a family with Zac. I see all the potential there for cute-ness and the passing on a bit of us and our histories to another little life beginning- not letting the buck stop here- so to speak.. but Holy Mary. WTF??? He better sell a screen play soon. I'll be needing a nanny and a baby nurse. Ha-ha. Just joshin'.
My horror-scope said this:
"If you are like some Aries, you may now be ready to finally start your family - a sweet little baby may be in your future. You've come a long way over the past two years, a time when taskmaster Saturn toured your pregnancy sector. If you delayed the start of your family, there seems to be no further reason to do so. Even though you may feel trepidation about getting pregnant and being responsible for a new life, your chart shows you are more ready than you think you are."
No shit, it really said this. I had already written this post and then went to check it at www.astologyzone.com the worlds most accurate astrologer.
I asked my friend Sarah if I could post her e-mail response to me and she said yes. Here it is.

Anyways, read yours, or as much as my attention span could handle, it's weird, when it's not personalized-to-me writing it is hard for me to stay focused.
Ok, now you may not like what I have to say but I just want to represent some other ways of thinking, maybe bs, maybe insightful...
I have two good friends-C (fell out of touch) and M- who have no interest in procreating. C has known her whole life that she does not want a baby, she loves kids, just not for her. And she married a man who feels the same way and lives happily in Cuba writing for Lonely Planet. M has just gotten married to my friend B and they both agree there too. They are not like torch-barers or anything, they just dont want kids.

I for one have mixed feelings, as you know but one of my theories about your confusion, or questioning, is that we as a species, as all species have an innate, primeval drive to procreate, to survive. The thing is, this no longer makes sense as far as survival goes,it could even be leading to our extinction. So we are intellectual enough to know that we do not need our genes to carry on, yet we have this inexplicable desire to not only do that, but mother, coddle, nurture, experience the wonder, survive through our offspring, etc.
So where does this leave us? I for one can say that I feel it is selfish to have children (so many times have I heard the "I'm too selfish to have children" thing, it is the opposite)It is unnecessary, extravagant, vain, driven by the fear of mortality, and all too often unrealistic and carelessly whimsical as far as accountability for the actual life that we can foster for another human being, individually and communally.
That being said, I want to have a child because I want to experience the entire process, I cant imagine being left out of that life experience (selfish). I also love this blink of an eye life and therefore want to gift it to someone else (no guarantee they willl love theirs). Besides, I have the nonsensical drives too, to mother, nurture, coddle, etc. I know I dont want to do it alone, but accept that this is not something I can have control over, I'm sure most single mothers did not plan it that way. And lastly it is appealing to think about the bond it would create between me and my lover (and this is the most un-thought-out, unrealistic, and selfish part of the parenthood equation)
As for your theory about you not wanting them before because of the men you have been with, I get it, I have been with them too, but I have also been with men who I knew would be wonderful fathers-T, T, even B. I got a little worried with the importance that you were placing on this only because you never wanted a child before. If you were just holding back because of the men, and all of a sudden thinking about it just because of this man's desire, it scares me a little, like you should want one regardless, because you have to fully and totally accept that you may be left alone or without him with your child. You have to want one regardless. However, I realize that you can change your mind and someone can inspire you do live a life you would never dreamed of, and ride off into the sunset. And you have to consider and explore your lover's needs/wants/dreams/goals/ if you are committed to a future together. Would he not marry you if you didnt want a child?
Ok, enough ranting, bedtime for bonzo, tell me what you think.
I love you
Sarah

Look at this jawline!

It's not because of him. I needed a new keyboard. My blog silence. Here's to me showing that I'm not afraid of a bad pic along side a good one. Delicious, just divine. This is the shirt I met him in. He sat in the passenger seat on the ride home from this night out and in a sing-songy voice said " I'm in love with youuuuuu".
I drove home quietly with tears in my eyes.

Pinned and observed

So, I was all fired up to write a whole entry on the cons of this relationship and all the ways sharing life with another challenges me on a daily basis.. Then we had this AMAZING, epic night together last night and now I don't care as much about those little pain in the ass things he does. I, of course, had a "I'm a loser, have nothing, don't know what I want to be when I grow up" freak-out sessions and he looked straight at me and said "My whole life I have prepared for the worst. I was disappointed often, shipped around to different family members, learned to suck up my feelings and assume some defensive position against the future. Then I met you and I watch how things always work out for you in crazy, mysterious, ways and how you really have faith, and you really get back what you project, and I want to be like you. So relax, lighten up. You will be FINE. I have no doubt. Who loves you Baby?"
(He's fond of that last sentence. He says that alot. It's cute. It's fun to say "you do!")
Isn't that a nice thing to hear?
I'll write later about how impatient he can be, how immature, quick to react, throws around the awful word "whatever" when he wants to stop a conversation that is uncomfortable for him, and other charming traits. I'll write later about how my free-spirited self has been pinned to a piece of felt and I panic every other day about being so observed by another human being. I wanted someone to care if I got home safe and to know where I was, etc.. Be careful what you wish for. Now I grit my teeth in the middle of the night when he says "Where are you going Baby?" and try not to scream "To the bathroom! Where the hell else would I be going at 4 am numnutts?" I swear he asks me that. Not just once either. Several times.
I also need to say that I have never had a boyfriend that got jealous before. I always felt like I must not be worth someone even being possessive of me. Really, I just chose to be with free-thinking types that considered jealousy to be silly and trite-"the heart is big enough to love many, blah,blah.." Point or no point, I wanted someone to be jealous of me, not want to lose me to another, etc. Well, guess what? It's not all it's cracked up to be. Here is another over-used sentence in my home. " Relax, he's gay" Even if they aren't- they are now. Sorry straight guy friends.

Because you said I could

My mother, Jenn and my dear friend Melly have all told me it's OK to write about being in love. They have given me permission. I guess I needed it in a way. I don't want to cheapen it or fuck it up. I don't want blow a bunch of damn dandelion seeds in the air. Sometimes once I write about someone or declare it's reality it disappears on me. I'm not kidding. Like, instantly. I think I have actually jinxed love before by journaling. I also haven't written because I just COULDN'T. Lazy and distracted, unorganized in my thoughts. I'm getting a better idea as to why. I'll share it now. All of it. At least I'll try.
I'll start with the good stuff. The delicious details. You asked for it. Don't worry the crappy stuff is right behind it. I'm going to be totally honest here.

My boyfriend wakes me up by saying "Good-morning little peanut" or "Hi little one".

He says "I love you" first. I get to say "I love you too" for once. I get to say "too". This is a big deal. Men in my past haven't let those 3 words slide out very easily.

He is always available. He always answers his phone. He does what he says he's going to do, shows up on time, lets me call whenever I want as many times in a day as I want and he never seems annoyed. He calls more than I do anyway.

He is so very smart. I believe he has a photographic memory. He can tell me today the 17 letter Ethiopian dish we ordered last night, only having ever seen the word that one time on our menu. He has a head full of facts that blow me away. He quietly says in a humble voice "I know things.."
Yes he does. I'm going to send him on a bunch of game shows and start milking this untapped cash-cow.

He is so together. He is a minimalist. He has 4 pairs of jeans but they are the best kind. He has 7 shirts- the sexiest vintage cowboy kind and 2 expensive dress shirts. Nice T-shirts that are all hole-free and attractive..
You get my point. He is clean, organized and calm. You should see him cook. It's like it never even happened. So graceful, no mess, no rushing, and the finished product is always to die for.

He just did the 10 day cleanse with me. We finished 4 days ago. I actually have a boyfriend that is totally willing to be healthy with me and he is not even a hippy! FAR from it. He is just conscious and willing. We work out together. We have a work out SCHEDULE. If this gets messed up at all he is not very happy. He lives for regiment.

He lets me cry about nothing, just have a big-ol melt down about nothing and everything and he will just hold me in his huge arms and say things like "you done? You want to beat your fists on the bed and let some more stuff out? Come on, let it all out.."

His favorite thing in the world is pinning me down with all 210 lbs of himself and tickling me till I am screaming like a baby orangutan. He thinks it is the all time funniest thing in the world and I'm convinced that because I laugh that hard everyday, he has probably cured me of any diseases that may have been forming inside me. It's got to be healthy, all that daily laughter. Don't get me wrong, it is torturous too.

We were raised by our Mothers. Our smart, funny,independent, single, writer, reader, mothers.We get each other. We like the soothing sound of one of us typing while the other lays in bed listening because it reminds of of our mothers. Vmama is terrific. I really like her.

Did I mention I have never seen a body like his in real life ever? Not even in movies actually. It doesn't really mean anything except that it is just unbelievable. He's like a super hero! He's a vision. He's mythology. Again, I'm not even the type to care about a mans physique so much, I've dated all kinds- fat to skinny- short and tall... It's just worth mentioning. Seven times.

Now I've got to go massage someone -like, half a continent away (Where the fuck is echo park anyway and why am I doing this for like no $?? and with no brakes??)
Anyway- stay tuned for part two. The "other side of love". Yes my friends we all know there is one.

Non-post

I haven't written. I can't seem to. I have 700 thoughts a minute that want to swim forward to this open screen-sea but they get diverted everytime.
Here I am again right now. Stuck. Does anyone want to read about my being in love? Probably not. Does anyone want to know I've been sick and poverty stricken and sick again? Definitly not. I don't know. I'm sleepy, trying to not cough, again. Worried
about money and totally thankful for this incredible man sleeping beside me.

no shit, no bones, no babies.. NO sasquatch!

I just had to title my post that way. Perfect example of Zac-isms. We laughed our asses off watching monster hunters on history channel- "In search of Big Foot". That sentence was his response to the whole thing.
Post coming soon regarding Thanksgiving, Becka, and the amazing Zacity.

Wiggle worm in a jar

You know that Cat Stevens song that goes “ I can’t keep it in, I gotta let it out, gotta tell the world…”. That is how I feel right now. I am on SW Airlines flying away from a man that has rocked my world so hard that I look like Diane Lane in “Unfaithful”. There is a scene where she is on the train smiling, biting her fingernails and then she starts crying, then laughing, then staring dreamily… I’m like that without the crying part. I have never met anyone like Zac. He is transplanted from another time. People are not made like him anymore. He’s like Hemmingway and Frank Sinatra, timeless, original, and so fucking COOL.

We agree on everything. We wake up at the same time EVERYTIME we are together. We crave the same foods at the same time. We want to do or not do the same things ALL THE TIME. We read each other’s minds. We have the EXACT same taste in clothes (first guy I haven’t wanted to dress), music, books, etc… We like each other’s friends. We like being alone a lot. We want to stay and leave at the same time. It’s really strange.

He say’s the sweetest, most meaningful things to me and I am completely free around him. I am completely unedited, “unfettered and alive” if you will.
He can be a little intimidating. He is stoic sometimes and has enough “street” in him to give that “look”; you know the one that can shut anyone up on a dime? For some reason he doesn’t have a chance around me. I don’t let that stop me from being a total goof-ball around him and I cross every boundary I can. I am completely comfortable and affectionate. He doesn’t even know how I get away with it. I can handle “soldiers”. I’ve been with the toughest. At least this one is educated and super-sane. I can’t say that for the others. At least not both at the same time.

In an hour and a half I will be in St.Louis. I am so excited to see my family. I am really filled to the brim with Thankfulness right now. I won’t lie though, leaving Zac today was about as brutal as it gets.

Part 2
It’s early. Dad is playing guitar in the living room. He has done so nearly everyday since I was born. (Same 20 songs, but it doesn’t matter). Current track: “You Are My Special Angel”.
I walked for 2 hours around this transitional neighborhood. Rural yesterday, suburban tomorrow.
Another Target, Best Buy, and Shnucks, just what Missouri needs?

As I was walking I saw 2 figures standing on the sidewalk together. One was my Dad in his oxford shirt with the “Remax” logo on the pocket and khaki pants, the other, a gray haired man in his mid-seventies. I pretended to be a stranger and Dad played along. When I got close to him I raised my fist to punch him and we both started laughing. The other man then learned I was Larry’s daughter.
I said, “ So, how do you two know each other?”
Man: “We’ve known each other since 1965. We worked together at General Motors. I was his supervisor. Your Dad was never on time. It was a requirement to write down the reasons you were late on little pieces of paper by the time clock. His Grandmother must have died 3 times. The best one I ever got though was the one where he wrote “ my rooster died”. Laughs all around.
Dad said he used to go raise hell until 2 am and then park his VW bug by the guards in front of GM so they could wake him up at 6 am when they arrived to work. They were his alarm clock.
Time is a strange beast.
The show we watched last night ("Californication", awesome series) delivered a line, “ It was the time of my life, if only someone had told me. The clock is ticking, and the gap is widening.” Dad and I just looked at each other. It was a moment. A kinda sad one.

Part 3
WHY did I go to bed at 9pm????
I've been up since 4am and today is going to be a long Thanksgiving day way out in Washington Mo.
I'm very excited to see the whole family but I may be fried by noon.

I miss Zac sumthin' feirce. We are both going out of our minds. I'm trying to be in the moment but it's been rough.

Driving to Memphis in the rental car on Friday should be really fun. I'm so looking forward to seeing Becka, my very best friend in high school. It's been over a decade since we've seen eachother. I sort of consider her my "first love" in a weird way. She was my first relationship, that is for certain. More details later when I no longer feel like I am in a David Lynch movie. This crack-0-dawn in the midwest thing is trippy. I think I need a early AM walk and a shower.

Healers and Romans

Only some people are weight-full.
So solid in their presence they feel no wake from others.

You are a broader human,
A much heavier stance.
You are so comfortable in your own skin that even when you are not,
No one would ever be able to tell.

I am healthier every time I sleep next you.

You feel out words in your mouth, taste their meanings, and only when you know for sure, do you share them with me.

You fired my guard. She’s been let down.
I’ve seen her wandering the streets of LA with nothing but your T-shirt on.
I think it may even be OK to tell you these things.
I think you may even try to stay.

The dragon inside you sleeps in warm sand.
You have learned to make him a softer home.
He is a squatter on stolen land but I know it may be too scary to kick him out, just yet.

I’ve seen your face change 7 different shades of beautiful.
I have never wanted to paint anyone until now.
There isn’t a big enough canvas made.

We have now shared 5 sated moons.
This one rolls in red smoke unaware of its new dirty hue.
It begins a retraction of its light birthing
To settle on the shady side of
The creative current it began.
The dark undertow decides what stays and what is given away.

I look euphoria straight in the eye this time.
I know her ways, she leaves when you become accustomed to her company.
I only foster her feeling,
For ownership is the same as memory.
Neither are results of careful calculation.
Rather reason and meanings’ own false persuasions.
Euphoria keeps unruly company with quiet terror and close lonesome.
They never part but work separate shifts.

You are undoubtedly the culmination of my life spent sorting out
The desired sounds and movements,
The methods and mechanics of the men,
Who lifted my face up with strong hands and perfect wrists.
You took notes from my universal banter and applied the information.
The Alpha star navigates my way across this imaginary sea.
I watch you sleep and wonder if it feels the same for you inside.
Are all your battleships still aligned or do you float like algae?

I never watched anyone sleep before.
I never wanted to.
Now I stare like a museum traveler.
We could meet your artist together,
You could even let him evict the dragon he invited in the first place.
He co-authored a best seller I wish only I could buy.

Mornings are child-like.
The day is sweet and you name me a different high cord each time.
I feel little and strong, yet so well behaved.
I believe in your authority and sign for the borrowed time.
But maybe my being so sure
Will be just enough
To finally rest us…

Silly Monster

I'm home from 10 days of dog sitting.
Now I'm in love with him and his mother's dog!



I'll post in the morning I swear!

Bitch-slapped by love(?) let's call it LUV for now.

I am an unexpected turn around.
I am fetal behind your knees.
I am circular fingertips on your temples.
I am unwritten for a week.
I am your last thought.
I am unaware of Malibu burning and 30 car pile-ups.
I am gonna be so fucked if I don't stop eating take-out food under the covers with you.

TeeHee

Man, am I risking looking like a push-over and a big dummy.
Here's the latest.
No, I can't tell. I'm gonna get in so much trouble. My client "B" who made the "what a dick!" comment is gonna fillet me.
Shoot. It is hard keeping it all to myself though.
Maybe I should for once though. Just shut-up and enjoy it. Not add any opinions or vibes to the mystery pot.
So tempting though.
There's some good stuff here.
I am sort of used to looking like a push-over and a big dummy. I never hide it well. I make sure to let everyone know.
I guess it could be a good trait that I am totally OK with making an ass out of myself and know I'm being severely judged at times. I really don't give a shit.
It's more fun to tell my stories than to worry about looking dumb.
I'm pooped though. I'll have to continue this over a cup of Peet's in the AM.

Annacita

I miss my Mom.

Out of the box

Yesterday my life got more interesting. Once and while an event takes place and it threads a million tiny ones together. When I moved here I told myself that it was for a reason, a big reason. I knew I had to see what could happen here. I felt strongly that something would. The day I arrived I exited the 405 and cruised east along Sunset Boulevard. I was happy and light hearted, not a fear in the world about moving to a new city. Those first emotional responses usually indicate good move verses bad move outcomes. As lonely as I can be here, I have never regretted this decision. Just as everything has been thus far, I once again feel like I am in a "choose your own adventure" book. Choose your own life, that's what we are all doing of course. Two very different people live within me. Two different motivators. It's amazing how one little decision can alter your whole story, I could be big or small- or even make you into nothing at all.. Sometimes I am a mountain woman. I want solitude. I want organic food and tea. I want to OM and AHH and meditate. I want to contemplate nano technology and the slip string theory (or the dismantling of it). Ultimately, I want a partner that enjoys these things as well. But Sometimes I am a tequila drinking biker chick that wants to be with a man that has decided protecting me is his life long mission. He would be slightly dangerous and probably never knew his father(kidding). I would say things like "I love you baby" and he would slap me on my ass as he walked out the door.
Some guy calls from my hair dressers chair a few days ago. "Hey, Mike says you're the best and you'll give me a deal on a massage, call me back." First of all, I like Mike but we ain't that close and since when does my hair dressers friend have deal gettin' rights? If I am "the best" am I really in the market to be giving discounted rates? That's like saying "Hey, I hear you're the best lawyer in town, will you give me a discount and take my case because we share the same hair dresser?" I was immediately annoyed. I called back and said my rates are already low and I prefer not to drive to West Hollywood for one massage anyway, it's not worth the drive or the time." He says "OK, my girlfriend and I will get one then." Good. That is settled.
"I'll call you in a couple days."
"Great, Bye."
These LA people I swear.
He calls me a couple nights later and says with a slur, " I have a client here and he gets massages everyday and we are making a movie about his life story and can you give him a massage tonite?" It was 9:30 pm. Umm..,NO. Try me at a normal time and quit trying to impress your client with your "massage hook-up". (I said it in much nicer way than that though.) I then gave him a little shit about being buzzed. He laughed, it was all good.
Finally, I get call from the real McCoy. (Thick east coast accent) "Hi sweetheart! Can you come up to the Sofitel suite---? " If we like you we will get massages everyday." Sure. Off I go.
Now, I need to digress for a moment here. I have always had this ability to win over the meanest bikers, thugs, huge Hawaiian locals, gangsters, you name it. Back in High School I was probably the nicest punk rocker in history with the meanest friends. I don't know why. I guess I'm not scared. I never have been. I have been told a MILLION times that I should be. So far so good. My approach has worked. My body tells me when to leave or stay and I have a super sense of my surroundings at all times. Could be why I hate pot. It takes all those senses away. Never have liked it, never will. It's like a sensory abyss.Horrible.
So when I arrive to the room and say to the Tony Soprano look-and-act-alike "So what makes you so important you get to have a movie made about you?" He exclaims "Honey! Get this girl some champagne I love her already!"
Moments later his wife and I are sharing exact thoughts and life perspectives and basically liked each other so much we were teary about it upon exit. I couldn't wait to see them again. I did see them again, everyday for a week. All the valet guys love me and have individually all told me of their physical ailments while waiting for or dropping off my car.
Without going into much detail(or I could be killed- ha!ha) I will say that this week has been FASCINATING. SHE is one of the strongest women I have ever met (and beautiful, Holy Mary.) And he has so much going on in his mind at such a rapid speed with so much heart to back it up, you just wanna sit next to him.
The story is so mind blowing and they shared the whole thing with me.I read things no one has seen yet, watched video's fresh off the press, got to put in my requests for the actors up for the roles, etc.. They completely trusted me and I will be going to Atlanta in a few weeks to "be their guest" and will have my own driver who apparently doubles as a body guard.
Don't worry though, he is an reformed ex-kingpin, mobster, druglord, involved in one of the largest coke busts in history, and thought so far out of the box he walked away from 2 life sentences and made millions of dollars legally.
He said he has alot of single friends in Atlanta who would love to be around my energy. Ha! You couldn't keep me from checking this adventure out if my life depended on it. I hope it doesn't! I know, everyone in unison now "BE CAREFUL".
More thoughts soon.

Angel in America

I just got home from "Taco Tuesday's" at Marix in WEHO. Lovely evening with Mikey, Ivana and James. The four of us pack ourselves in the tiny, hip, gay, establishment every so often and drink margaritas and eat enough cheap but delicious tacos to be stuffed and sober enough to drive home. It is loud and crazy and we still seem to put on a big show for everyone. Mikey insists on high five-ing every 2 seconds across the table until I eventually have to cut him off by not holding my hand up in return. He holds his solo,waiting, hand up enough times that he looks dumb and stops doing it. A little habit he picked up about 4 years ago to torture us with. Man, I do love him though. He is my angel. He went on and on about my red, 1930'sish, polka dotted shirt. He loved it. He slammed his fist down in protest for not being able to wear it. "We (the gay community) just don't have enough polka-dotted clothing!" He was dead serious. It reminded me of the time we were shopping at Lohmans together and he picked up some fuzzy designer purse thing and bellowed "I want to accessorise too!" He totally meant it. He was upset about it but not enough to "slip over to the transgender arena". What a little cutie pie. Just what the doctor ordered. Mikey and my 4 hours of soil prepping for the grass I ordered for my yard helped me completely release all my anger towards the PRCB. I mean really. It's so ridiculous I can't even write the details out because I can't bear to give anymore thought or energy to this human being.
My client who rarely swears or gives an opinion without complete and utter diplomacy exclaimed face down on the massage table "What a dick!" Well said my friend, well said. Believe me, I didn't recite the events with any emotion or positive self portrayal. I just gave the facts. The only thing I will say is that showing up at my house with fingernail scratches and dried blood on his biceps is not cool. I confronted him in a light-hearted way and he denied it (and WOW did his explanation suck!). I didn't even care (no,really,I didn't) until the following day when he said " Dude, last I checked, we haven't gotten married." OK, that's all I'm giving up.
Mikey said " Stef, it's a numbers game, NEXT!" Oh GAWD. I'll give you a number ZERO!!
Goodnight world. Hope I don't feel crappy in the AM.

Rain! Finally! Rain!

I have missed the rain soooooo much! It is raining hard right now! First time since I moved into this lil' cabin and can I just say? I think I have died and gone to heaven. It's like my Waipio house with electricity. And windows. And indoor plumbing. And Internet access. And no raging river or 2,000 ft. waterfall. OK, it's nothing like Waipio except that it's cute and rustic and peaceful.
Here come the sirens. Welcome to LA. I bet there are 70 accidents right now on the freeways. The problem here is partly this:
The combination of many high performance, ultra expensive, vehicles and the ego maniacs that drive them, combined with tourist and (pls. don't take offense because I practically fall into this category) the "help" in beat up cars that came from mostly third world countries. The outcome is many angry horn blowers in cars they will never be able to drive the way or speed in which they were intended, and several scared nannies and gardeners in Toyota Corollas and pick-ups going 30 miles an hour causing several accidents on already congested freeways and side streets. Luckily, I do not have my life set up in a way that requires me to drive very often in this mess. Can you say "GUESTHOUSE!"? Yes, live among the wealthy in which you service and be OK with the fact that everyone on the block knows you and your car belong in Hollywood! Receive dirty looks sometimes because you have independently lowered the value of your neighbors houses with your dented 1998 Mitsubishi. Sorry!
Not!

I'm too sexy for my blog..

I love photography. I love swanky downtown loft model shoots, I love holding the reflector, I love my teacher... More soon.

Brigham Feild

And the model Nicolla

Big Adventure

This is where I am at right now. I got stuck, like a fish hook, this AM on a rose thorn exiting the drive way. It hurts right now,14 hours later. I burned my hand badly just now trying to light an almost wax-less candle with a half dead lighter. I have to do 6 hours of massage tomorrow starting at 11am and I can't sleep because the PRCB just left for the umpteenth time at a bit before midnight without a decent explanation. He insists on it being a "creature of habit" thing and my abandonment issue. SORRY CHUCK. I am sensing way more malevolent behaviors here. Masked in a triple reverse twist flip psychology. It may not be other women, it may be more ominous. I dare not vocalize in this forum but it is something.. and if I have learned one thing in my 36 years it is that there is no such thing as paranoia, only some level of intuition and real is real and questionable is worth questioning. I trust me. I do know that he can't stay away from me because I challenge the very heart of him. I know that I am in a city temporarily deemed purgatory. Gray matter within gray matter. I can't leave, I can't really stay, I don't have a choice- for the first time EVER.
Too old to leave, to smart to stay, too confused to write about it. So I'll wait this one out and try to not become a "crazy cat lady".
BUT I got asked today to be the assistant on photo shoots and get taught "everything I want to know about photography" and get paid for it too. I start Monday at 9am. Are you kidding me??
AND the PRCB is still worth my time because my head fits in between his pecs and his vocabulary is better than mine. What a sucker I am.
What an awfully big adventure surviving another one of you this will be.
He slapped my ass as he walked out the door and said " Keep it up, but you and I know we are just a few steps away from falling in love". Now, why'd he have to go and say that?

Angry Muffin

I think, for the very first time, I may have met my match. This is not going to be a cake walk my friends. Transparency is NOT my comfort zone. In a world of artists, it could be time to live within a proverbial, spiritual budget. You figure it out because I am about to.
Direct quote " why can't you just accept this stage? It's not going to to be like this forever, the phone rings and we are happy as fags in a dick tree. It will end and that stage be over but the next stage will be good in a different way. We will share a toothbrush later if you just let me like you. Stop trying to control everything. It aint gonna work with me."

I'm not in my car!

First matter at hand; Mom is OK. Thank God.
I'm whirling from the Punk Rock Cowboy's most recent visit. Last night.
Before you judge, hear me out.
He texts me 2 weeks ago " I miss your face." I don't respond. I would have said "you miss my #@$%&*!!" Then I get a text yesterday morning. A long one, a good one. A heart felt one.
"We were getting along famously, you are smart, sexy, and funny. I like you, and you tell me to get lost because I happen to like to sleep where all my stuff is." Now, I actually understand this reasoning. I understand well. We were both only children raised by single moms. We both read books at the breakfast table quietly with our mothers. We both want to sleep at our houses and do what we want. We will either grow to want more or we won't. T and I took our time and it was a long time before we went on 4-day stretches. I forget that.
He came over. His energy was authentic. He was humble. He was beautiful. I mean it. He is dewy. He is ridiculously smart too. I took him in like medicine and I'm not even sick. He is metaphor embodied. He earned my trust last night. Let the story unfold because I am ready to write it with quill and ink.
But that is beside the point.
What he got last night was a woman fresh from the ground. Grassroots. I left a mountain of love from above. I literally "drove" myself crazy up north. The traffic in the Bay Area is sci-fi. It is soooooo bad that it out ways LA by huge percentages. Believe me or not. It sucks DONKEYS. At least in LA I have alternate routes. Being stuck for hours on a bridge or in a tunnel is horrible. However, I drove around to feel the pure love of my people. Friends that love me to the core. Clients that have become so family that a grown man of extreme conservative nature cried on the table and confided his stresses of being all that he is; a provider. He hugged me 3 times before I left. Their home is my home. I am as comfortable there as I get. I can open the fridge, crawl in bed and watch TV, take over the computer, laugh, cry.. you name it. The most unlikely people are some of my closest friends. They want to fly me up every other Thursday and let me use their car to massage other people while I'm there. I said I would because I miss them and I would finally have a way to stay connected to my friends as well. It never really hit me until now how alone I can sometimes feel down here. I have half friends here. T was my true bud. Tomorrow we will meet for our first outing as friends. We are going to the garment district to pick out fabric for Pastease. This is easier to imagine now that I may officially be dating someone.
Back to the bay.
I neglected at least 7 people of extreme importance and still was a complete mad woman. I drank with my single friends at night (I have alcohol poisoning for sure) arrived at my married with kids friends houses hung over as hell, and sat in horrible heat and traffic to massage people in between. I am fried, and broke.
Oh well.
Per visit with Alex: When little Devin ran out after me into the garden and yelled "I miss you right now" and then ran into my arms and kissed me on the cheek I died. She calls her dad "Falula" and Alex "Tanalee" for no reason. That's just their names. She is my Goddaughter. Such a funny little fairy girl.
Per Clair visit: Her husband came to the door with a pamper on his head and the house was crazy full of toys and smiles and kids raised with heaps of love. How a woman that calm can have that much activity around her is amazing. I can't even listen to 2 people talk at once without having a panic attack. How do people do it?
Per Jacqueline visits: We are like the same person. It's weird. All drama and passion. Being there for this time in her life is like a gift. I watched a strong woman cry and smile her way through a seemingly impossible situation and be totally present in the unfolding in an intentional, spiritual way... She will be fine- but I could still kill her husband for doing this to my friend. What a fucker. Who starts dating other women 2 months after buying a house with his wife and 6 year old? Dickweed. I told her to let HIM figure this one out. She's done everything else so far.
Per Mike visit: Thank God someone loves me THAT MUCH. He is my rope. I can't believe how lucky I am to have him. I will gladly be by his side at 90 yrs old. We say it as a joke but we both know it's a probable outcome.
Per Sarah visit: Walking through the woods in half moon bay to the restaurant for sunset, laughing like hell, dissecting our childhoods, fried egg sandwiches in bed. What fun. What a crazy life this is turning out to be.
Per Nikki machine shop visit: How I missed that smell of grease and metal. I love machines. I love big men in cover-alls with bigger hearts. I will never be homeless because there is always a home for me with 2 two huge cranes in the drive way and 5 dogs to greet me. Just don't turn right instead of left or you will be in the world’s scariest projects. Hunters point.
Per Daune visit: You are so badass. I must be too to have a chick like you on my side. You have been dealt a bad hand and you are still so willing to love.
Per hunting Tony down, my ex-boyfriend, and the man who had the largest impact on me in the shortest amount of time: You are like no other person I have ever met. I think I will always be in love with you. Every second is interesting, electric, over-whelming, exhausting, funny, uncomfortable, comfortable, challenging, and downright strange. I love people that light up whole cities. He does.
This is an over-view. I have to write more specifics later.
I’m sure you are excited.
This entry sure lacks writing skills but I wanted to get it out before I lost the feeling.

Rooftop dinner on Labor Day with Mike and friends.

Tony when we first met

Henriette, Felix, and the people who are living with them

I was going to write quickly and let everyone know I made it home safe, as of 2 hours ago. I was going to say "for those of you who have been worried about me and where I have been, don't worry I am home.." then I got this worrisome e-mail from my Mum.
AT 8 PM PDT...0300 UTC...THE GOVERNMENT OF MEXICO HAS REPLACED THE
HURRICANE WATCH AND TROPICAL STORM WARNING WITH A HURRICANE WARNING
ALONG THE COAST OF MAINLAND MEXICO FROM TOPOLOBAMPO NORTHWARD TO
BAHIA KINO. A HURRICANE WARNING MEANS THAT HURRICANE CONDITIONS ARE
EXPECTED WITHIN THE WARNING AREA WITHIN THE NEXT 24 HOURS.
PREPARATIONS TO PROTECT LIFE AND PROPERTY SHOULD BE RUSHED TO
COMPLETION.

Yep, don't worry about me. Worry about my mother in an aluminum trailer.

PS pls read my friend Charlottes blog. It's so good. Especially since she just moved to the place where Felix passed through.

Ray Bradbury, My Mr. Electrico

"Every morning I jump out of bed and step on a land mine. The land mine is me. After the explosion, I spend the rest of the day putting the pieces back together. Now, its your turn. Jump!" Zest. Gusto. Curiosity. These are the qualities every writer must have, as well as a spirit of adventure."

One night driving home from a long night of massaging, I listened intently to my favorite paranormal radio program "Coast to Coast AM" (10pm-2am)and George Norry was interviewing Ray Bradbury. I knew nothing of his books nor did I know he was the writer for the "Twilight Zone" series. His energy, his positivity, his connectedness to creative energy affected me in a profound way. I went on and on about the interview to "T". He said "Wow he really got ya' didn't he?" He did. He is a treasure and I can't wait to read everything he has ever written. I am such a dork that I am going to his 87Th birthday party/opening night of his latest theatre production on Sept. 7 here in LA. I must meet him! I came across the little, understated add in the LA weekly and had a small silent cow over it( at Peets coffee).
Words cannot describe how I feel about this man! Click on this pic -of dandelion seeds no less- and read just a taste of what initially drew me to this amazing soul!
I'm off to SF at 5 am. Hopefully I'll be able to write an entry up there.
Here is another exerpt I found on his site that I must share..
Hello again!

At the end of my last web-site talk I promised to tell you about how I happened to fall into becoming a writer.

Some of it was gradual, and part of it was accidental.

Back when I was twelve years old I was madly in love with L. Frank Baum and the Oz books, along with the novels of Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, and especially the Tarzan books and the John Carter, Warlord of Mars books by Edgar Rice Burroughs. I began to think about becoming a writer at that time.

Simultaneously I saw Blackstone the Magician on stage and thought, what a wonderful life it would be if I could grow up and become a magician.

In many ways that is exactly what I did.

It was an encounter with another magician that changed my life forever.

During the Labor Day week of 1932 a favorite uncle of mine died; his funeral was held on the Labor Day Saturday. If he hadn't died that week, my life might not have changed because, returning from his funeral at noon on that Saturday, I saw carnival tent down by Lake Michigan. I knew that down there, by the lake, in his special tent, was a magician named Mr. Electrico.

Mr. Electrico was a fantastic creator of marvels. He sat in his electric chair every night and was electrocuted in front of all the people, young and old, of Waukegan, Illinois. When the electricity surged through his body he raised a sword and knighted all the kids sitting in the front row below his platform. I had been to see Mr. Electrico the night before. When he reached me, he pointed his sword at my head and touched my brow. The electricity rushed down the sword, inside my skull, made my hair stand up and sparks fly out of my ears. He then shouted at me, "Live forever!"

I thought that was a wonderful idea, but how did you do it?

The next day, being driven home by my father, fresh from the funeral, I looked down at those carnival tents and thought to myself, "The answer is there. He said 'Live forever,' and I must go find out how to do that." I told my father to stop the car. He didn't want to, but I insisted. He stopped the car and let me out, furious with me for not returning home to partake in the wake being held for my uncle. With the car gone, and my father in a rage, I ran down the hill. What was I doing? I was running away from death, running toward life.

When I reached the carnival grounds, by God, sitting there, almost as if he were waiting for me, was Mr. Electrico. I grew, suddenly, very shy. I couldn't possibly ask, How do you live forever? But luckily I had a magic trick in my pocket. I pulled it out, held it toward Mr. Electrico and asked him if he'd show me how to do the trick. He showed me how and then looked into my face and said, "Would you like to see some of those peculiar people in that tent over there?"

I said, "Yes."

He took me over to the sideshow tent and hit it with his cane and shouted, "Clean up your language!" at whoever was inside. Then, he pulled up the tent flap and took me in to meet the Illustrated Man, the Fat Lady, the Skeleton Man, the acrobats, and all the strange people in the sideshows.

He then walked me down by the shore and we sat on a sand dune. He talked about his small philosophies and let me talk about my large ones. At a certain point he finally leaned forward and said, "You know, we've met before."

I replied, "No, sir, I've never met you before."

He said, "Yes, you were my best friend in the great war in France in 1918 and you were wounded and died in my arms at the battle of the Ardennes Forrest. But now, here today, I see his soul shining out of your eyes. Here you are, with a new face, a new name, but the soul shining from your face is the soul of my dear dead friend. Welcome back to the world."

Why did he say that? I don't know. Was there something in my eagerness, my passion for life, my being ready for some sort of new activity? I don't know the answer to that. All I know is that he said, "Live forever" and gave me a future and in doing so, gave me a past many years before, when his friend died in France.

Leaving the carnival grounds that day I stood by the carousel and watched the horses go round and round to the music of "Beautiful Ohio." Standing there, the tears poured down my face, for I felt that something strange and wonderful had happened to me because of my encounter with Mr. Electrico.

I went home and the next day traveled to Arizona with my folks. When we arrived there a few days later I began to write, full-time. I have written every single day of my life since that day 69 years ago.

I have long since lost track of Mr. Electrico, but I wish that he existed somewhere in the world so that I could run to him, embrace him, and thank him for changing my life and helping me become a writer.


-Ray Bradbury, December 2001

Random facts about me

I lived in the jungle for nearly 10 years across 7 rivers.

I got stranded on a motu (small island) in Tahiti once for 12 hours with my best friend Alex.

I have been in two car accidents, one almost dropped me 2000 ft to my death but the truck stopped upside down with inches to spare. The other was last year and I broke my nose from my cable box ricocheting off the windshield. Good times.

I live alone and unless I am in love, I prefer it that way.

I love swanky Brazilian music.

I can't stand it when people put stuffed animals in their back windshields.

My whole family lives in St.Louis, mostly Italians. My Mom has 50 first cousins.

My father used to make used car commercials in the 80's and even used the phrase "if I don't give you 0 percent financing, I'll be a monkey's uncle." I'm not kidding.

I used to live with 10 heavy metal guys in a Victorian house in SF. I was shot at twice there. The Projects were across the street. I babysat a boa constrictor one summer and took it to the liquor store below the apartment building and scared the boys in the hood so bad they never messed with me again.

I have a half brother that is a foot and a half taller than me.

My Mother lives in an Air Stream off the coast of Mexico and is writing a book.

I like salty food way more than sweet food.

I was a Black Jack dealer for a while when I was 22.

I went to an alternative arts high school in Portland Or. There were 30 people in my graduating class and I know almost all of them to this day.

My father's mother ran away when he was 10 years old and he found her 8 years ago living in Louisiana. She had 4 kids with my Grandpa and another 4 with her new husband who knew nothing of her previous existence or other children.

I had a pet duck named "Clover" in Hawaii for 7 years. He was best friends with our Jack Russell terrier. They did everything together.

I lived in a machine shop for a summer in the mission district in SF. They called me “mamashop”.

Please don't put raisins in food. Just don't do it.


The shop

laughing is the antidote to idiot invasions

I should be going to bed but I need to write. What an interesting day indeed. I woke up with horrible cramps and a headache- hormones flying. I cancelled my massages and stayed in. I thought about this distracted, separate from myself feeling I've been having lately and really got that this physical relationship I have been having with the punk rock cowboy is NOT GOOD. I've felt like he was a fun movie but so NOT genuine. So lacking any real respect for me. He never asked about my life, commented on any topics that I brought up unless they pertained to his "persona" somehow, or made any plans with me outside of my house. He even did that annoying thing I hate. He would kiss me in the middle of my sentences. You have no idea how much that bugs me. As it should.
Here is the transcript of my ending this via text: (BTW, one strange factor in all this was that we did text and call each other several times a day. Always initiated by him. We had good wit together but no depth of soul.)

ME: You know Z, feeling a little weird about this have sex and leave deal. I'm not really comfortable with it.
HIM: Dude! I've known you for like 2 weeks, way 2 early for this. PMS?
(my thoughts not spoken*pls.don't call me dude, and it's been a month moron.)
ME: Well, I've never done THIS before. Have you? Maybe it's an LA thing. I've never slept with a guy I had never been in public with before.
HIM: Maybe this isn't the best idea
ME: Guess not. Was fun though (insert smiley face)
HIM: Yup, Good luck.
ME: Wow, you're cold.
HIM: I'm direct and don't mince words but call it what you want.
long pause...
HIM: And yes, it was fun.
That was that. Kinda strange to have the phone stop lighting up 6 times a day. It's always weird that two worlds can collide for any length of time and then nothing... Just dead air. I was pissed and felt totally used but it passed and I got perspective quickly. I'm happy I said it and I'm glad it has ended.
Then I got a call from my HILARIOUS, huge, friend Andy that I met through the guys (T) at the animation studio. He and a group of guy friends just got back from a fishing trip and had 4 huge Ahi tuna's they were grilling and asked if I would like to join them, girlfriends, wives, etc..I made myself go so I wouldn't sit here with that awful text vibe floating in the air.
So now I have just returned from 5 hours of laughing and eating with the greatest group of people ever. I must have been with the funniest people to ever have been in one space together without being at a comedy club. AND THE FOOD. Oh my God, it was amazing. They have their tuna grilling down to an art. Thank you life for unexpected life preservers and quality humans everywhere! I think I just made a whole new group of friends, genuine ones.

Him

I have been completely distant with blogger. I can't seem to write a thing. The truth is that it could be 1 of 3 things or all of the above:
1. I am so impressed with the writings of my new blog friend Jenn (as I was passing) and my talented Mamacita that I am shy these days. I want to focus! I want to ramble brilliantly! I want to remember the little tales of a day and gift people with details of my human mingling. I just can't seem to. Even e-mails are a chore, which immediately annihilates number one as a arguable reason for blog distance here.
2. I am totally confused about everything. I am sleeping with a man that could be the poster boy for "women in need of a hot, strapping, tall, dark, handsome, man call this number..." add and YET. I miss you know who. I MISS HIM. I miss the comfort. I miss the dependability (in his own weird way). I miss the friendship combined with passion. I mean, the dude held my hair back for 3 hours one night after I drank about 60 chocolate martinis. He brought bowls to the bed for me to puke in. He DISPOSED of them. He still slept with me again! I fell in front of the cab too, FYI. Didn't even make it to the door. I haven't EVER been that drunk in my life. He just kept saying, "it's the cream, it's the cream". Another time he drove all way to my house at 1am and took me to the emergency room for my black widow spider bite. He stayed the whole time sleeping in the waiting area. Once he loaded all the supplies in his car for my clients’ daughters 3rd birthday party and drove it all to the Santa Monica Pier. He even helped set it up and stayed to film the whole party for her. He had never met her but knew I was committed to helping and she was an important client of mine. We got corn dogs after we were dismissed and loved every bite of them.
He's the first guy/love interest I ever took walks with. Not the Sean kind where we would kill each other if we didn't take a walk in public to pipe down. These were real walks for exercise. We liked many of the the same books and movies. One time we took a 2-hour bath and took turns reading aloud to one another. Then we walked to breakfast in the sun. We went to a museum. We went on road trips. We took a class together(Sort of,I took it, he filmed it). We went out on the town together in Vegas, SF, and LA. We slept in a bunk bed at his Grandparents and woke up to biscuits and gravy. We liked each other’s friends.- I'm doing one of those crappy love story montages at the end of a sappy movie aren't I?
He called me about 2 weeks ago at 7:30 in the AM. His voice was quiet and sad. I miss last summer Stef, things were so simple and fun then". Yeah, me too, that was the stuff of life right there". We had a great talk that lasted over an hour. We both hung up elated at the idea of being friends again soon.
Then I went and fucked it all up. I'm having a crazy week. I drove to Ojai to a friends party and got really smashed on tequila, then got shuffled into Ojai proper for some of their friends going away party. I was soooooooo tired and drunk and who is standing there but T himself. We hugged, my legs wrapped around his waist like they do every time, automatically, for some reason they just end up like that. We got to the end of the bar to get a drink. About half way through my first SIP I knew I had to get out of there or I would start spinning. I said something drunk and horrible like " take me to your house right now". He said "no, I'm getting a drink for Terra and want to hang out for a while". (BTW it was only 10pm; I thought it was like 1AM). This was an outrage! Not leave with me now? Goodbye! The rest I am too ashamed to write but it involves a careless act that I never do. I am truly ashamed. I drove on very curvy, windy, back roads in that condition. It was so scary what I had just done that I was completely sober by the time I got to the 101 south and was back in my bed in LA by 11:30. I was in a lot of trouble once that cat got out of the bag. Six cell phone calls later. "YOU ARE WHERE? HOME? STEFANY!!" I know, I bow down in shame. T's texts in the AM said, "I wish you hadn't rushed off, I was worried about you". "No you weren't". I respond like a child. Now, no more friendship again. He's exhausted. I'm exhausted.
To be continued.

OK, where was I?
See, the thing is this. It wasn't all great of course. He is moody and so easily distracted. He has this verbal strategy that is infuriating. I would spew off my deepest thoughts, be open and honest, and he would just nod and not speak. He could write me the best, most communicative e-mails but he knew better than to say what I didn't want to hear if he was in the same space with me. I saw a sticker yesterday that said, "think twice, say nothing" I think he must have invented that. I know his method was a good one for the most part but sometimes it was just torture. He also likes to disappear. When we got close he would run off for 4 days or more. I used to think that was always to reclaim his much needed freedom but now I see that he is kind of that way anyhow. It was just difficult deciphering his actions. Lastly, he could do hurtful things. He took another woman home to his family on Thanksgiving at the peak of our time together. They slept in the same bed and everything. He didn't ask what I was doing for the holiday or even say goodbye.
His parents set him up with a woman who has a two-year-old kid. Clearly the year he spent with me didn't matter enough to have ever talked about me to them. They were so eager to have him meet her. These things hurt bad. They are big awful things. They are 2 of several situations.
Would things be different if he wasn't mourning the loss of his lying, cheating, wife when I met him? I would like to think so. So, I have moved on in most respects but now that I am spending time with someone else who really is GREAT, believe me, but has .0002% of the depth, authenticity, and friendship we just shared. I am certain that T has experienced this feeling in his dating life again. I know I get calls after a weekend with her. I know he's feeling that loss too.
So I guess I have just been distracted by these thoughts of what now if not that? I’m OK alone, I am a little too good at it but people have said so many things to me lately about being single in LA. "Better work it out before you're 40 Stef! 50 year old men date 30 year old women here." Whatever, I'm not buying into that crap and if I do, someone tell me to move! I know a great little spot on the Sea of Cortez. A new client of mine who is 56 said, "LA is a trap, you'll never be able to make the same amount of money as you can here even if you don't feel like you're making that much now." It's true. I can see the trap.
The last reason I haven’t written until now:
3. I move on to the next day so fast, pack it in with stuff, and miss the little stuff to write about because I am done with that day. These character traits of mine are the same reasons I am terrible with money and can completely space out hugely important bills and stuff. IT SIMPLY DOESN'T ENTER MY MIND. Out of sight out of mind has never been so true. This is why I am much better in a partnership- Man, Woman, doesn't matter. It changes how my mind organizes info. It motivates me to "strategize" for two. Strange I know, but it is true.

The things my wild kitty only lets me see!

I seriously walked outside 2 mornings ago to this. How funny is my cat? I had been laying on that sheet reading the day before. I'm glad he didn't suffocate himself!

Fucking Assholes

http://weazlsrevenge.blogspot.com/search/label/Chemtrails

I encourage everyone to follow this link. READ THE WHOLE THING! If I had not been observing beautiful blue skies turning to streaky, cloudy days time and time again in LA skies I wouldn't believe it myself. The LA news has tried to air a few stories on the matter but can't get a single answer from the US goverment. They are NOT made from regular aircraft fuel. This is clear to everyone.
(Copied from web)
"Chemtrails" - a definition:


The word "chemtrail" is not yet in the Oxford English Dictionary and so various terms have come to be used to describe what is seen - such as "Anomalous Spreading Trail(s)" and what the Canadian government likes to refer to as "Persistent Spreading Contrails" - that is without bothering to explain why today plain old-fashioned condensation trails should now behave in this new way!

The chemtrail theory is a group of theories regarding what are claimed to be unnatural condensation trails from high altitude jet aircraft. Contrails are formed by condensation of water vapor in the aircraft's exhausts whereas some trails, or plumes, have an appearance and quality different from those of normal water-based contrails - that is "chemtrails" are not consistent with the known atmospheric properties of contrails.

The term "chemtrail" should not be confused with other forms of acknowledged aerial spraying such as crop dusting, cloud seeding, military chaff dispersal or aerial firefighting. It specifically refers to systematic, high-altitude spraying by military-type aircraft of unknown substances for some undisclosed purpose.

cowboys are my weakness

I wish I had the book handy to quote Pam Houston but basically at one point she says something about being a strong, autonomous, woman but when a man calls me "Baby" I get weak in the knees..
My cowboy says things like:
"Get over here and give me some sugar"
"Hey Baby doll"
"Hi Peanut"
"Jeff is great,you'll meet him someday".
"We won't be able to sit out here like this in December"
"I had such a great time tonight, call me tomorrow right?"
You get the picture. This guy is either REALLY good at this or he actually likes me. I know he likes me yet.. something is amiss. I can't believe this guy. I mean WHAT?? I couldn't have written him. I couldn't have made him in a lab. This much I do know, my head is not up my ass. I soak all this cowboy stuff up but when all is said and done, I'm gonna marry a guy who has never uttered the word "baby" in his life. I may be 60 but I'm not that nieve.

Joni, my other mother

I promise to write more than just lyrics but I just have to add this one. To be raised with lyrics like these cascading around the room ... Such a blessing to have had such soulful moments so early on. Joni still sounds just as good 30 years later. Who knew that as an adult women I would someday so vividly relate. Maybe she infiltrated my subconscious and set me up for this prophecy I now live!

The Same Situation
by Joni Mitchell

Again and again the same situation
For so many years
Tethered to a ringing telephone
In a room full of mirrors
A pretty girl in your bathroom
Checking out her sex appeal
I asked myself when you said you loved me
Do you think this can be real?

Still I sent up my prayer
Wondering where it had to go
With heaven full of astronauts
And the Lord on death row
While the millions of his lost and lonely ones
Call out and clamour to be found
Caught in their struggle for higher positions
And their search for love that sticks around

You've had lots of lovely women
Now you turn your gaze to me
Weighing the beauty and the imperfection
To see if I'm worthy
Like the church
Like a cop
Like a mother
You want me to be truthful
Sometimes you turn it on me like a weapon though
And I need your approval

Still I sent up my prayer
Wondering who was there to hear
I said Send me somebody
Who's strong and somewhat sincere
With the millions of the lost and lonely ones
I called out to be released
Caught in my struggle for higher achievements
And my search for love
That don't seem to cease