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Monday, September 1, 2014

sexxx

some (true!) sexual experiences i recently put on reddit, if anyone is interested. there are many more. reddit loved them. reddit and facebook are blog killers… thinking about starting a column and a podcast (still).

edit: on second thought you must ask me to be allowed access to those stories...

Friday, April 25, 2014

pura vida

the most serendipitous, magical, and straight up place i have ever loved is puerto viejo, limon, costa rica.

Friday, January 31, 2014

blind-y

thinking of starting an advice column for abused and addicted kids, getting on their feet in the world. teaching the kids yoga techniques and talking about sex. it's what i did in my one day of jail and my therapist keeps reminding me of that and how rewarding it was for me. and of the fact that my story is extreme and i should be dead but am now successful, so i am a good mentor for some of them. i would rather do a podcast but i don't know of any interesting guests in real life! maybe i can recruit. i also want to put a section on this site where people can book trips with me on a calendar. maybe i can kickstart the better ideas for trips, so i have interesting travel companions, and write about them. i can do a podcast with them (or anyone interesting- damn the lack of those people in my life lately! now is when i do start to miss the crazy ex.) i have to have a partner who loves catsitting at my house to do all this stuff but i think i have the guy! as long as meow is in good shape to leave him with him sometimes. and when i am home i can do an opinions section of williamsburg's offerings of all sorts or something. yup. theo's and my idea from a long time ago…

ugh. i need the so-called 'rage to master' to set upon me. fury. haha. my therapist keeps telling me to live up to my name. express my anger. there is a whole unrecognized side of myself that is passive. you think you know 'you' and then you start digging and taking second and third looks… pretty cool. you see your obsessive habitual traps. your comfort zone. i have to thank both yoga training and therapy for that. heck, even jail, as i mentioned above, and the whole ordeal with the court system. i now recognize a lot of stagnant or dormant parts of myself. i need to learn to express them, especially in some organized fashion that might finance itself!!!

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

cut

at the end of 2013, i will probably get drunk alone, on the bottle of 'cupcake' champagne i bought from the little meathead polish guy in greenpoint, while meow meows and paces the apartment. 2013 was both the worst and best year in awhile. new york is a maze of fakes. i love it here though, don't get me wrong. it's a sedate pace. but my dreams are wild and wicked. i have had a lot of grabbing life by the balls and making it look me in the eye. and a lot of delicious realization that friends are just in disguise. i want 2014 to not lose that tinge of disaster, but to ultimately be bright and shiny and sweet.

edit: i did not get drunk alone. i went out with my incestuous "bros" to a party at which absinthe and a rooftop were involved. as it should be in brooklyn.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

:)

i have been giddy lately. it's true when you start doing things for yourself, being introspective and aware, setting healthy boundaries and curating better people, things start to happen. my therapist and i discussed that once i get completely on my feet, i can start contributing to the world in the way that i was meant to. it's amazing to get to be able to live through the things i have survived mostly, and to experience this culmination of things into a recognized self. i'm so happy lately!!!!

Monday, December 2, 2013

carpe diem

i had a weird experience coming back from my brother's house in new mexico, in the wee hours of this morning. i am not sure how to describe it but it was basically a terrifying hyper-awareness of the inevitability of my own death, and the mourning of the loss of my self and my gorgeous life, all in the span of about ten fuzzy minutes. i tend to get anxious in general during the travel part of travel. but besides my being poked out of my doze by jolts of turbulence on the plane, part of it was a delayed reaction to my past few days of further reconnecting with my family (whom i haven't spoken to much over the past 16 years until recently). i realized that the more close connections you have with people, the higher likelihood of one of them breaking, changing, going away completely in the short term. and i am terrified in the first place of any connections with people since so many of them in my life have turned out to be double-sided crazies, even in said family- i have had enough trauma!!! and with those people who aren't crazy, getting close leads to that uncontrollable loss, that sadly finite knowledge and experience of intimacy. i don't know how to deal with that very well. so i have spent a lot of time in NY learning to be happy with myself, on my own- to an extreme i guess, considering how i've maneuvered myself into a life working from home totally independent of others, and basically living like a reclusive cat lady (thank the lordy for my visiting friends). i think my next stage of therapy is dealing with that terror of death and loss. it's keeping me distracted and antisocial and isolated. the technological grip on society on top of it helps us all dissociate. i have to pinch myself and remember to carpe diem!

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

muse muse

dating in brooklyn is constant heartbreak. either there are submissive 21-year-old bipolar girls (or blogging sluts) who live a couple blocks away from you but are consistently intangible... or there are sad sweet geniuses south of the park (far away), who don't know what they want but are understandably distracted by death and suffering. or there is a guy i slept with immediately because i was overwhelmed by our chemistry, but he lives far away too, with his dog, and is busy with a recent breakup (which really, i am too). it's better when i don't go on dates, and just play my bass and talk to my cat. or read books or reddit. or something. my boy friends came back- my bros. i hate them sometimes for not being as authentic as i expect, for not being madly in love with me, but i love them anyway so they trample my boundaries and fall asleep in my bed after parties. they're good but i don't want to pin them down in any way but that for as long as that lasts. only some people work, even if they are dysfunctional. sigh. this city is a big hodgepodge of maybe, somedays...

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

muse

new york, new york. so good they named it twice. i heart ny.

i really do. never was there a place so worthy of me. never a place that challenged (except thailand).

i am in the right place. i am doing the right things. here are (most of) the right people.

sometime soon i will start to write about it again. i am trying to figure out my angle.

Saturday, August 3, 2013

be here now

last night in my dreams i was traveling, and lost everything i had in my possession by picking up the wrong backpack, which had a bunch of broken iphones in it- instead of my backpack, with my iphone, and wallet, and passport... i even lost my shoes running back to the boat i had just gotten off of. then i got lost on the weird island full of dark soil and sprawling sequoia trees i found myself on, and was at the mercy of the disinterested retirees and locals there. it was terrifying!

but other than that, i feel great lately. a little lonely but good. somewhere in me a plan is forming, although it is not clear yet.  i like being free of ties (other than 'meow', who loudly declares himself a tie every minute of every day bless his fuzzy little heart). i am re-discovering my love of NY, which was buried under a lot of crapola in the past couple of years. my standards have never been so high and i am not suffering fools here, but am trying to be open and friendly to those i meet. trying to learn how to stay in one place! it's not easy! especially without a comfortable relationship to lean on (not that i really had that before). i have realized you need a stream of ideas, projects, routines, classes, teams, meet ups... relationships and situations i have always tended to barely acknowledge in my urgency to get away and explore other places. i have never had a stable life in one place!

so... i guess i am sort of growing up and forcing myself to see the other side, as boring as i find it, because i know it is better for me than constant chaos. i have talked to my therapist a lot about finding real connections, and meaning. she also encourages to follow my talents. according to her my "gift" is the ability to move the world with the truth.  i know that is true too... just gotta find the way to harness it! some ideas i have had- helping run a support group for kids with my background, teaching yoga to underpriveleged youth accused of crimes, doing a podcast and running a social website in my (very popular) neighborhood, fostering and adopting out pets, writing an advice column for young travelers.... i still just want to buy a bunch of tickets and just travel! but we shall see.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

pink moon eclipse

i am at a crossroads.  a crossroads indeed. but somehow i feel it is a crossroads i can't predict- it isn't as easy as just running away this time.

my ears are all stuffy and i am at home,  running headquarters for my should-be-ex boyfriend because i am an idiot... and his musician friends, who are all playing a show down the block. if he wasn't a genius i wouldn't love him, sigh.  he will be the death of me.  i can't even hear him today because i am sick- but that might be a blessing on this day of him. there is always the threat of a bombing between us.

i want to run away. run towards. i want to go ride a chicken bus in some third world country with my bag of fruit stand offerings in my lap and a snotty teen texting on her bubble gum phone twirling her hair and speaking some unfathomable language in the next seat. i want to smell dust and animals.  i want to open the bus window to women holding baskets running up to sell things on the precarious sides of cliffs upon which we teeter. i want to witness blue velvet lakes snaking through painted rocks. i don't care where it is, as long as i have sun, nature, animals, nice people. life. movement.

i have a whole other life that i love. i am a whole other person.

NY is the hardest place i have ever lived, because i have lived here so long. as much life is contained in these 5 boroughs i  feel completely dead here (this time around). 

Monday, February 25, 2013

oscars

morning lull (for my yoga class)

my current mentors/muses are: joe rogan for being chill and presenting a totally misogynistic view of life (in his podcast) without being too offensive to me somehow (probably his approach to drugs as teaching devices but only in moderation, check him out). dr. drew for helping me figure out the people around me (psychology nerd). dan savage for his sex outlook and instructions (although i am not as brave as he or as fortunate). louis c.k. for his patheticness and for making me giggle in my neighborhood. (same with the cast of 'girls'). my yoga teacher leigh for her wisdom even though it is different from my style (love her the most right now) (also tobias who cracks me up). . my friends...still traveling while i slave away on my bed for clients ;P.... my fuzzy cat's vet who let him bite her. my ex-boyfriend for doing 6 months of therapy and finally being nice (aww). my clients who are sane (don't get me started on insane ones). my little brother who is having his 4th baby soon with his cute wife. my other ex- boyfriend (the one i love most) who disappeared. literally. :(... :( ... my girl friends from asia who are my only real connection to my gender. my abandoned enemies. the only guy on the internet i am attracted to i will meet wednesday. all my dead dogs. any female who is nice to me because i can't find any who aren't sobbing next to me through some horrid movie...

♥ thank you, thank you

Thursday, January 24, 2013

in the jungle

pics of my yoga retreat in Khao Sok National Park, Thailand, with Simon Low.

this is a ghostly place. 'phi', as the thais call them. the ghosts of the dead. koh phi phi for instance was aptly and prophetically named since it was later wiped out by the tsunami. this is the other coast of thailand, which i prefer, on the gulf. the place i am staying is run by a couple of really nice blond and tanned middle aged americans. they apparently travel around and set up schools for burmese refugees in their spare time... besides owning this amazing valley beneath limestone mountains, the dark blue lake tucked between the peaks lined with jungle, like fur on lion teats (no idea why that is the image that comes to mind). the yoga teacher is white haired... calm and british, not my cup of tea, but i have been drinking tea here all day made with real ginger, lemon and honey which makes up for it. occasionally the thai girls bring out some amazing dish for us to try- tonight was wingbean salad made with garlic and chilis, and black sesame seeds. i am doing 5-6 hours of yoga and meditation a day, listening to ebbing and flowing songs of cicadas, geckos, gibbons, frogs, hopping fish.

the moon hangs over the candlelit huts and all the farts and sighs of the fresh foreign faces which i ignore in the daytime have crept up to bed, leaving me here on my hammock, freshly stoned thanks to my good friend 't' whom i am visiting. she makes friends with all the thais, as usual, and listens to all of my moaning. the moon, the creak of the swaying raft houses. the beaming stars.... it's good to be here at peace for the first time in a long while. the sweet burmese massage lady told me to never get married because men only drink and bitch, and that i should get at least 3 massages while i am here. my calm, centered yoga teacher, simon, told me i need to strengthen my core or at least incorporate it into my yoga... a year of pilates classes has apparently not made a dent in my laziness...tomorrow i will kayak through the turquoise bays. and maybe swim despite the supposed 7 foot long catfish in the depths, that feeds on the forest at the (30 meter) bottom. i make up camp horror stories to annoy my friend 't' with. we have to climb a steep mountain to go to the bathroom. there is no electricity, internet, and phone- yet no real feeling of withdrawal from civilization's umbilical cord. yoga, eat, hammock, sit bemusedly breathing in the gorgeousness, sleep, repeat...

Friday, December 21, 2012

Back on track!

Happy holidays all... I am off tomorrow to Prague for Christmas and Berlin for New Year. My impressions to come!

Edit: Pictures of Prague, & pictures of Berlin.

Monday, November 12, 2012

i (do) heart ny

That means I got my heart broken by the two loves of my life in NY.

And finally, it happened on the same day (technically the second or third heartbreak from both loves). Not only did my anger culminate and turn to hatred towards the loser who was using me as his doormat and I struck back by exposing his tangled web of chronic lying (goodbye theo e, you creep), but I also received what I think was a suicide note from x. My heart stops even at the thought. I can not begin to fathom the grief I am going to be experiencing as soon as my defenses crumble and I let myself feel it. Thankfully I have a therapist appointment tonight.

I am not good with loss, if that is not obvious.

I do love NY though. Especially after disasters. Whatever bad can be said about the people here, the true NY'ers are really kind hearted. That bitch Sandy didn't do anyone any good in the past couple of weeks. I have met some really nice people who have been volunteering to help after the hurricane here, and who have been kind to me as well (one of them works for Doctors Without Borders). Nice, uncomplicated people are gold to me right now. I am seriously wounded.

At least I have my Meow to cuddle with.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

false

the problem with lies are that people who receive them base their whole lives on what they believe to be good and true- make life decisions on these things. lies are the reverse of trustworthiness, stability. it's like taking the wrong path, way the hell out into the middle of nowhere, and looking down at the ground as it drops from out from under you. it is telling the person you are with that they are not worthy of the good in you- of a real connection that doesn't have a false front. the sweet, fun person you kiss while they are sleeping, and cuddle, and live your life with, has been dead all along. it's like they pull off a mask and and their corpse face starts eating your paralyzed-with-shock face with their needlepoint teeth. it's creepy. it's unstable. people don't want to be around liars unless they themselves are liars too, and want to ride that pain train right into the ground linked arm in arm like crackheads propping each other up on the corner. no humanity left, just dirty and twitching and barely functioning as a pseudo-individual, with a lack of defined goals or instincts. no souls.

true people are happy people. they have each other's backs and strive for positivity and progress. they decide who they are and what they want and are honest about it- and people are drawn to them for their lack of bullshit, their openness, their trustworthiness. they get what they want by eliminating the betrayals. there are no intentional betrayals in truth, only the pain of finding that a truth is not aligned with your path (ie. a broken heart because of incompatibility). the betrayal is minimal and easier gotten over because the truth-teller reassures the receiver that they are worthy of truth and respect no matter how opposite. the people who can't take someone's honest self are the first crossed off the list of people who matter in the long run to that truth-teller, which is better for both sides, because then they can go find their own respective brands of true people- it's a quick shot straight to the middle of the riffraff, where the good and supportive and relate-able things dwell for you. it is the only way to live. you grab your truth and collect it. spread it around. make it safe and warm and fuzzy and bright and welcoming. true people will give the gift of no bullshit, no abuse, because they want to love you and know you and prop you up and share... as long as you tell the truth consistently. they can take your truth, examine it, and discard it and thus you politely. or they will open up to it and let you in. the whole world of possible experiences opens up with truth- freedom, trustworthiness, integrity- adventure even. people are free to sample all earthly delights if they follow a couple of basic rules about not making the decision to lie, betray, mislead someone down that dead end path.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Sorry

Woah there antisocial weirdo. Right? Phew... I have been stuck in a trap for 2 1/2 years and I broke out in a hail of crazy just now. Of my own making partly, because I loved this guy, who was really bad for me....Yeah we really (really) love each other (but really really hate each other too!)...he is not emotionally mature enough for a relationship though (and possibly sociopathic) and maybe neither am I (too neurotic and moralistic). His idea of communication was to call me "psycho" and run away. Mine was to ask his friends to talk to him about priorities ;P. I finally realized it either had to change or I had to leave, for my own sanity (amazing how someone calling you crazy over and over can make you crazy). And yes, for his sanity too. I regret all of it, and feel sheepish all around. It's love man. Never ends well. :( I should know better though. It's just that everyone else seems so boring! And this particular love has isolated me from my friends. So I don't want to end up starting over again on my own. (Why does this keep happening? Stop!!!)

I got in a good mood about all of my options too though, which finally opened up when I decided to set my foot down. It was scary. Got an intense stalker girl from Craigslist (wish I hadn't told her which neighborhood I was in)... Also met a really nice fellow traveller girl on Craigslist, who may just become my new best friend! And some others- a schmancy redhead media girl, a meek negro fashion designer, another stalker I forgot to mention named Bruce at my bowling league (yes please keep track if I disappear)... going on winery tours, doing yoga and pilates, smoking myself silly while I write proposals and talk to my very anxious cat, listening to radio shows and drowning in pleasure in front of godard.... at least I do know how to live.

Now that I have myself back, and have resolved to play loud drum noises over every thought I have about 'x2', as I will call him... all I want to do is go have fun somewhere! But not with people with expectations, just people who are real... I would chew anyone who wanted anything from me up right now!!! This breakup is easy because I know I did every single thing I could and that toxic relationships don't stop being toxic (:( hence why I doubt I will talk to my deluded, drama queen, cruel-hearted mom ever again)... but it is still heartbreaking, there just beyond reach. I just fnally realized I can not be happy without honest communication that progresses. But I can be really happy with it!!!!! So someone else has to make that effort as much as I do.

So... now I have tickets to Austria and Germany in Dec, which may be kinda fun to do alone anyway. And I have miles of empty road up ahead of me, which is just the way I like it. Justified freedom!!! I loved and tried as hard as I could! Byebye!!! Where else can I go?...mmmm the lust for travel, and life....

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

is that all there is?

i have really fucking had it with people. especially the people in NY. it seems as if the more you try to be a nurturing, honest, empathetic person the more people see it as a weakness. and on top of that everyone seems to come to NY with a lot of friends, a lot of family, a lot of ego... and no need to add on to the list of people they talk to outside an occasional drunken bar mishap. fuck you NY. and fuck other so-called friends who never come through when you need them, which in my case is when i am struggling with loneliness because "friends" only talk to me when they see something they can use, rather than because they care.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

rat race

back in ny. drumming my fingers. the economy sucks. i am sooooo lucky i have a stable job although i am poor in relation to previous years. there are no freelance projects for me. i need to learn to prostitute myself better to 'the man'.

at least it is spring in NY. i have taken up smoking cigarettes. i meet such interesting people who do. today i met a jamaican guy in dreads from deep brooklyn. he mistook my interest in him as an interest in his cock (as so many guys do) and got my number, but i won't be answering my phone. i did meet a really cool korean girl on a park bench though. we commiserated about men.

i went to play pin up girl for a day at beauty bar in the east village. my little 'tico' lover seemed to like the pic i posted.

sigh. it really is a lot of work to live sometimes! a lot of time to fill!

i wandered into matchless bar by the park one hazy afternoon, and there was 't'. i didn't notice until i had been sitting right next to him for like 5 minutes. we both sighed and got drunk together.

warm! it's warm here! got things to do! spanish lessons. walking from bar to bar with brooklyn friends. yoga and pilates. self-medication.

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Tuesday, March 20, 2012

boy crazy

i have a bunch of boy friends again, sigh.

i went on a trip to tortugero national park. it's a village accessible only by 2 hours boat ride down the river- kind of like costa rica's amazon. it poured rain relentlessly so we just floated through dark canals with mostly hiding wildlife, to our lodge which had had it's electricity and water knocked out. so i downed a few pina coladas in the candle light. watching a group of probably christian rednecks line dance to an r&b song (ugh) and went to bed early under their fluffy comforter. anyway the point was that the guide on my bus trip there and back was so cute. and he kept doing romantic flirty things with me like calling me beautiful and making me twirl and flutter my eyelashes to the rest of the bus. he even asked me to go out with him this week, but we both chickened out at the last minute and didn't get any contact info. my life is so lame in some ways.

but i do have boy friends. my same exact birthday-having, so sweet, somewhat chubby friend 'funky' from venezuela. he likes to tell me his life story, which is pretty cool. he doesn't drink or anything. he was a politician's aide for a long time in venezuela. also 'j', who is kind of rough, he grew up in the deep south where half his friends were killed by guns because it is seriously that stupid down there. and my friend 't', who is totally laid back on the one hand and a ruthless real estate hustler on the other (like my ex 't').

now i am back home after a bike ride in the dark, listening to insects chirp, smoking myself silly and gonna go lay in my hammock.

pics of costa rica

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Friday, March 2, 2012

midpoint

so as my 2nd month in costa rica commences, i have become a bit more anxious. now the novelty of paradise has worn off (a bit! still absolutely loving it!).

til now it has been amazing. i have rarely felt so at home. i love my huge dark house in the jungle with silent expanses of polished wood, a hammock, a different insect or animal to traipse upon every day in every corner both inside and outside it. i love flying on my bike, under amazing canopies of trees full of growling howler monkeys and eyelash vipers and sloths. i love doing yoga with my teacher who is imperturbably positive and perfectly in shape, and who massages the necks of everyone in the class with smelly balm. i love the caribbeans with their dreadlocks and reggae- real rasta guys instead of the fakes i met in thailand! i love trying a new restaurant every evening, and the few nice people i have encountered coincidentally, like the venezuelan guy 'funky' and his twin who were born on the same exact day as me, whom i met on that day, my birthday. and a friend of my crazy hustling english girl friend 'e' (whom i sequestered from the lynch mob in thailand at my other house in the jungle, because she had run out of money and pissed a lot of people off). the friend, 's', is sweet but hard. she has some horror stories about murders and robberies in this town (well, everyone has horror stories about robbery in this town). i also like to watch (but not talk to because they have snobby girlfriends) the surfer boys- both caribbean and american, on the color changing beaches. i like their scruffy cleanness.

now i am starting to realize i gotta figure my shit out though, before returning to NY and to my crazy ex boyfriend who brings out a crazy me. i have given up on meeting new people (someone has to make the effort with me sometime, seriously). i have been frantically searching not only for side projects since IBM is not giving me so much work, but i have also been looking for a house with a yard in boulder, colorado (sigh my home's curse) to move to ASAP (i want a medicinal herb garden, a place to hang my hammock, and a puppy). i did do a social network site i am pretty proud of (in one day!) for my neighborhood in brooklyn, which said ex 't' can use to promote all his activities, which at least are more upstanding than usual lately. i wish there was someone here to date, that is the piece i am missing. so far, unless i want to go out with a keyboardist older than my mother, pickings are slim to nonexistent. so i sit alone in my house, or on my porch, or on my bike, or at a restaurant. on the weekends, like tomorrow morning, i will get up and ride to the local farmer's market, slink around the edges not making much in the way of eye contact. get coffee and read my book while the beach boys check me out curiously and i ignore them purposely. then take my mat on my bike a couple of miles to one of the most raw and beautiful beaches i have ever been to, and stick my toes in the water, and breathe. i will probably encounter various wildlife, as usual. i will ride past the ceremonious singing in tongues to drums that the caribbean folk do at a certain house on sundays. i will maybe take some sort of tour like zip lining or raw food cooking. i will wish i could stay here forever.

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Saturday, February 25, 2012

hmm

who reads this site from beverly hills? can i come visit you? ;)

Thursday, February 9, 2012

win

i am realizing that picking the exact life you want and going to live it works pretty well! i mean it seems that if you are true to yourself, then nature or whatever provides.

first i chose to leave what was becoming a depressing situation in NY and go to thailand and revisit my life there. for me it was strange living there in koh phangan for so long, in a tiny village where everyone knew if you farted. i have never been under so much scrutiny in my life, and never been not able to get away from someone at a moment's notice. i have never had many ties before at all beyond my family, from whom i was trying to unravel. it was such a nice realization that i can go somewhere and be known, at least basically. it's comfortable, and safe (a word that when i left koh phangan i would never have used to describe it). i even made up with my enemy. we saw each other walking towards each other on the street and had a few whole minutes to decide how to react. we decided on friends, because in reality we are. you can't really be enemies with someone unless you love them. unless you are a psychopath, which i am not.

speaking of psychopaths i have become convinced that my ex is either one or he is the most fortified person i have ever met, back there behind his defenses. i stuck him out for so long because defenses are a challenge to someone who is obsessed with psychology and manifesting change. but i don't need a fixer-upper, especially when it just brings me down and makes me angry. so after a couple of insane(!!!) fights which should have made us never speak to each other again (but didn't), i am starting to finally really realize that 't' and i need to stay away from each other. our connection is weird. it's a sad, petulant, whimpering love at best, a sadistic, manipulative love at worst. i can't believe i am still talking about him.

't' and i did plan to spend 3 months in costa rica together this winter. we both decided that was a bad idea. thus i was terrified to come alone since the place i rented was in the middle of the jungle. i desperately grasped at indifferent friends. turns out it was the best thing i could have done for myself. i am living in an amazing house, trees full of animals and birds surrounding me. i have already made a few very nice friends. i spend my days working on the balcony, in my hammock, riding my bike in the humid day, drinking surreptitiously in corners of bars with my 'casado'. i love it in much the same way i loved thailand, but costa rica is less social and more alien, with the rasta carribeaners (several of them violent crackheads) and the visiting sloths. it's nice to know i will always be ok, even with just myself. i don't know why i forget that.

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Monday, December 19, 2011

how honest to be?

how much of your life can you reveal without being written off as the crazy dog lady, living in the jungle. this has been my lesson of the past few years. it is a brave thing, being yourself. everyone is crazy. some people can handle craziness from another perspective, some can't.

i have been writing an autobiography. but if i share it, there is the very real possibility that people will judge me by it. my ex boyfriend 't' was revolted...

this past week i visited budapest, for the first time. it was comfortable. i have distant family there. i recovered from jet lag in my hotel with half a bottle of wine and a strict cutoff of 't'. it breaks my heart (owwwwwwww) but i can only live my life without him right now. in budapest wandered the town, got lost. ended up eating crappy food and feeling like a tourist. my dad though, is hungarian. he broke up with my mom (whom he met in vienna, presumably) before i turned age 3. i spoke magyar til then. i ate crepes and ghoulash. i was daddy's girl for 3 years... and after that, nothing- a bleak nightmare, a war zone. so now when this dad of sorts traipses my way with promises of godfather tourist guides, i scoff and point to his dead replacement, my stepfather, synopsis to come..... i decided to rebel in budapest, to find my own way. which really, considering i like walking, is good. i rode the funicular from pest to buda, up castle hill where it rained dismally but was breathttaking. i walked the chain bridge back across the river as ships passed underneath. i went and soaked in the decadent bath house which was so beautiful but in which the men ogled my boobs. i poked at the gingerbread and drank mulled wine in the christmas market. i dodged a german hari krishna.

then i came to istanbul, where i have really normal friends. friends with apartments, with families, and friends with friends. baking christmas cookies, passing joints, being boring and polite. i have a night of bliss and connections to people like me, where we get wasted and the turkish guy complains about his wife. i next have an off night of antisocial twitches and the missing of 't', so badly.

istanbul is one of the most beautiful places on earth... so laid back and so friendly. so ethereally beautiful and ancient. i ride taxis for hours, pantomiming communication. i pet the fat fluffy strays on the cobblestone streets. i wink at the men who think they are macho or alpha. men are easy. they love me.

so back to honesty. here is one thing. i was drugged to the brink of death and molested from ages 4-14 by my mormon missionary stepdad. yessiree. while being a genius kid who skipped grades between comatose spells. my stepdad was later executed on death row for mass murder. my mother not only looked the other way but actively blamed and as a result abused me. i basically raised her kids while she acted like a prostitute. can i tell people these things?

i feel like if i tell the truth normal society will avoid me, like a freak. things happen, in life. they really do. they are true. it's a good story. it is my crazy. and people you have to explain to aren't worth it, right? would it be a story worthy of telling if it was too accessible? would my voice carry? all i know is i hate being judged incorrectly. 't' judged me harshly... oh pain in my heart.

it's humid and hilly and the calls to mecca soothe me, vying with calls from the shop men in doorways. i take pictures of the colorful lights and dodge glances and feel alone. i drink half a bottle of wine in my room to the soundtrack of bad movies. i contemplate the fact that i always get what i want, even if i am miserable in the process. i want to write but can i be so honest?

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

high

hullo stray browser i have trapped in my web. what are you doing spying on me here? not much to see at the moment. sorry to say. i had a weird couple of weeks in which i was inundated (buried alive really) in work, which has now miraculously disippated. aside from that i have been humming along in as much domestic bliss as i can muster in a life that is typically quite absent of that. a fat happy boyfriend, some neighbor cats who have adopted me (whom i tease endlessly with catnip which makes them silly). the comfort of a stuttering tv. i'm booooored though- really bored. i must say. the cracks in this facade run deep. there are so many things that can be done when you stay in one place. so many things you can build ('t' and i have endless ideas). people to make relationships with ('t' and i have endless barriers). but i just feel like i am missing out on the world, running in place here in NY. despite all the stimulation i remain angsty & sedate. i pay $1500 a month and insane amounts of taxes to barely ever leave my house. i breathe in pot smoke like it is oxygen. i fill up the pit of my stomach with alcohol. i avoid my friends and don't make any new ones. i pace.

but spring is alighting outside my window, finally. and if i do get out of my den my mood changes drastically. i walked down to the park at the waterfront with 't' today and it was good. i did yell at him a bit for living off of me. but since i get so much in return i don't berate him too badly. the only thing that really makes me feel like running away from him is sexual frustration. (so unfair.) i have other candidates knocking on my door but can't bring myself to cross that line yet. yet.

good thing i am headed to costa rica again on friday. road tripping it to the carribean side. beaches, rasta, jungles, wildlife. just the way i like it. 't' and i have resolved to give our selves a boot camp, to remind us what we want from life and get us out of a rut. we shall see.

speaking of sex i ran into my favorite blogger on my street today. was too shy to say hi to her even. i'm pathetic right now. i just realized.

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Thursday, March 10, 2011

hum

i almost forgot i had this here blog, having been buried under a huge pile of work that seemingly fell from the sky onto poor little me the past few weeks. i have no life outside of work right now in fact, and thus nothing much to talk about... i did have a couple of dramas- the only girl i ever loved in my life coming to visit and my supposed "friend" stealing her out from under my nose (typical, and now our friendship has cooled considerably). my boyfriend-again finally having signed his divorce papers, but only after his (now ex) wife went berserk (also typical).... other than that i have been wistfully dreaming of wildlife-ridden jungles and placid beaches, surfing websites and visiting animal shelters full of kitties and puppies that i can't adopt. the usual. and pining for spring.

until i can get to a real update, you are welcome to read the real story that i turned in to my fiction writing class (based on my last post). it's a little clunky since i wrote the character descriptions first and then launched into a story full of mostly inside jokes... but my class absolutely raved about it, even though it really was my first fiction piece ever! so apparently i am not a horrible fiction writer after all, which is a relief. at least says them.


Wednesday, January 26, 2011

write indeed

on the topic of nicknames, which was assigned to me in my writing class.

'bird witch' was shy. she was so-called because her nose was long and and so was her chin. she dressed sort of oddly, and her fear of the spotlight led her to avoid even mirrors. her lashes fluttered and she clucked nervously. her tendency to turn slightly purple in the cold and her inability to meet peoples' eyes led most people to think she was sketchy, depressed, or worse even slightly retarded. she was in fact happy and intelligent, just unable to communicate normally upon short notice, never having been properly socialized. her family history (partly hungarian) presumably included gypsy blood. the brood was all restless. she had changed schools about 3 times per year as a kid, and globe-hopped most of her adult life. she'd spent a lot of time alone.

the boys she met in her adopted city of NY loved her anyway. something about her nurturing tendencies. she would gather them around her and cuddle them over drinks. presume to teach them one by one her small mundane discoveries, in her stilted analytical way. her enjoyment of the moment and sense of adventure usually served as a magnet straight to the male friend zone for her (she skipped dutifully toward it almost every time). "you're good", they would tell her. "wanna hang?" they played together like children, poking and joking. it kept her sane.

love, though, she was not lucky with. love seemed to hate her. she was currently roller-coaster dating a guy named 't'. his austrian name was NOT 't'. he was eccentric, rather bubbly, and definitely psychotic, with a public image (talented musician) that kept him afloat and had gotten him his green card. behind his goldi-locks and wide blue eyes was a scam artist extraordinaire. the boys all despised him, but 'bird witch' could not resist. the bottomless pit inside her needed his constant stream of bullshit to feel full. heck, he was keeping her alive in part. but good times were shared between them, chasing novelty, negotiating boundaries, dreaming. one day they would grow apart for sure, but at the moment they were clinging still to the last vestiges of their dysfunctional relationship. he no longer left clothes all over her house or dropped in to raid the fridge. when 'bird witch' would touch him he would flinch. when she wanted sexual... er.... alleviation she had to strike out reflexively at friendly passersby. "but i love you!" he would proclaim with a little awkward twitch that told her he was lying baldfaced. she wasn't sure if she was lying or not when she returned the sentiment. he would cry dramatically at anything he didn't want to discuss honestly. she refused to let him go due to a fear she really was an unworthy 'bird witch' who was doomed to be alone.

'hippo' was 'bird witch's 'nabe', as she called him. he was tall and gangly, with shaggy brown hair and a beak...rather unlike a hippo, in fact. he never seemed to notice her oddity. he had a deep inability to be alone for more than five minutes, and he cheerfully appreciated whoever was around to the extent that he was generally adored. but he was smart enough to pick some favorites out of that devoted crowd, and 'bird witch' and he were like peas in a pod. "we must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children" he would whisper to her with a giggle, and 'bird witch' would smack him affectionately, and a little worriedly. "oi oi!". he had grown up a punk kid in boston, and had a sort of skinhead tourette's syndrome- spouting off nazi slogans just to annoy surrounding listeners. (you did have to wonder if it really was a joke, the kid did have to have a dark side somewhere, everyone does, right?). in the daytime he created advertisements for the drugs the pharmaceutical companies wanted to keep you addicted to. at night he obsessively cultivated magnificent aquarium ecosystems. he was dating a smart stubborn redhead with tattoos and a trust fund.

'jdawg' was there too, and this was the gang. 'bird witch' and 'hippo' and 'jdawg'. 'jdawg' was the rather short, thuggish latino with the sensual lips. while being very precise and militaristic in his mannerisms (he was a sergeant in the navy), would make up fantastical stories about those around him, and try to convince them that they were true. "hey baby", he'd text. and it even worked sometimes. enough so that 'bird witch' would forget herself and sniff his neck when she was tipsy. "you'd better make me some pancakes". his shy surprise when she was nice to him always belied something under his hardcore skinhead exterior. he preened like a puppy under her gaze. mostly though, they just elaborated on their mutual stories in friendly text messages, when they were trying to escape their boring classes (in his case) or stifling home office (in hers). or they would clink together their beer mugs in a dive bar. 'bird witch' realized that 'jdawg' was too good to subject to anything beyond friendship.

and so they were, and so it was.

..........damn, i really need to learn to write dialog, and have a point to the story!!!!

p.s. here are pics from belize. i will have to write on here sometime soon about how great it was to connect with my brother there, in a land of abundant sun and sea life!

Friday, January 14, 2011

sheesh

i swear i will post something positive soon, as my last post is really misleading! headed to belize tomorrow morning, with my estranged little brother whom i have not seen in over 10 years. should be...weird!

Sunday, January 9, 2011

wtf

i never hated myself until a few years ago. always my problems in life were due to someone else (my betrayal-happy parents, whoremongering exes, etc.), and i never internalized things, being at heart an optimist who knew i had inadvertently drawn a bad lot in my early life.

then thailand happened (i suppose this is an extension of the last cathartic post). being infatuated by and thus inextricably immersed in a culture that was diametrically opposed to my own was like walking around with a scolding mirror permanently affixed to my forehead in front of my face... so i could constantly see the reflection of my own ugliness- the neurosis, the inability to fit in to normal society, my stupid penchant for believing the lies of people who wanted to divest me of everything i am worth, and lying myself bare to their abuse. my numerous patterns of ridiculous mistakes.

so a few years ago i started having violent flashes- quick daydreams of vicious torture of myself. my flailing at my wrists with slick razor blades in white-eyed rage. my choking myself with clenched fists in blind shrieking fury. my shrugging myself nonchalantly off the edge of a skyscraper. i couldn't escape myself and i wanted me dead.

a few in-depth google searches revealed some fascinating websites on the topic of self murder. from detailed instructions on how to concoct a fatal brew from household chemicals, to an elaborate plan for euthanasia of the elderly by a plastic mask that sucks helium from a tank into grateful lungs, the resources i needed for my planned demise were quite prevalent and usable.

but even in those lonely, anguished depths of dark days (last year) i could not bring myself to give up on life. as much as i despised myself, i couldn't refuse what adventures were sure to be on tap in future. and besides, i am a wuss. i have panic attacks centered around not being able to draw breath, and a petulant intolerance of discomfort. and voluntarily robbing myself of oxygen/life is quite laughable in fact, and really not an option.

and the thing is, death will come for us all, all too soon. and speeding it along is just insanity.

so times like now, when i feel like i just got jipped in every way, when i feel as though if i did do the deed, no one would even notice until my body swelled and burst and leaked sickly sweet smells from the neglected heat of my room, when i feel like i have melted disconsolately into the gravel underneath me and can't seem to consciously re-combine my atoms into a solid, standing, confident state, i realize it is just a passing phase of weakness, and tomorrow will be inevitably be better. and i am trying to work through that nasty hatred of myself which really is startling considering what a good girl i am, and realize that no one is ever perfect and my brain chemistry is a likely culprit. and accept that moving onwards and upwards while i have the chance, the gift, is the only way.

here's hoping tomorrow is another day.

Monday, January 3, 2011

:( ---> :)

at any moment of your life you can choose to be a happy person and deal with things like a happy person does, or choose to be bitter and sad and depressed. my dumb hippie buddhist ex thai boyfriend, ot, first learnt me of that, in between shirking all human responsibility and uselessly smoking spliffs on my hammock. and my most recent, beloved but platonic (excepting prolific snuggling) boyfriend, 't', has reinforced it in a way too, which is why i love him terribly and desperately, but also why i rebel and occasionally despise him (happiness scares me). sigh... relationships are so freaking painful. it is hard to be positive and not just sabotage them before they hit you......... but i digress.

i don't know if i ever told the story on here about how i had started an informal (psshaw solo and un- credited or helped out in any way by my meth head thai boyfriend who was busy trying to bilk me out of whatever i was worth to him, ie. a fully stocked and planned bar and outdoor theater, at which time he received it he would toss it aside with scorn and go fuck just about everyone else, but there i go digressing...) yes an informal animal shelter on my beach on the island in thailand (!!!).

it started with that lonely peal in the night, a squealing pup found in a pile by my ridiculously sculpted and tan brazilian neighbors, who fornicated loudly every afternoon from the depths of the bungalow next door. they had almost hit her in the road with their motorbike. my puppy calling me. she had a fat belly full of worms and was ridden with fleas. i took her in and flushed her out and took care of her for about 3 1/2 years, despite my reluctance to even name her and thus attach. she chased me through the scattered gardens of the muslim side of the island (full by the way of not only the queer howling of the calls to mecca, but also the skittering of scary ass monitor lizards trying to eat her every time i turned my back- i could hear them killing things behind the hut in the wee hours of the morn), she biting at my heels. as she grew into her adolescence i watched her learn to make friends with the wild dogs on the beach, watched their territorial dances. she was as adored as any prized pedigree, living amongst festering and fighting street dogs. i misplaced (or did i?) all of my biological need for children on to her. we understood each other very well. she hung her head when i barked at her for climbing in my bed when there was a terrifying display of fireworks nightly on the beach. i ran to dote whenever she yelped in various tones according to what she had encountered (a snake or beetle, a smelly piece of trash or dead animal tossed in my yard by my betel nut stained neighbors who carried machetes, spouted unintelligible platitudes at me, and smoked me almost out of my house every morning when burning their trash outside my window). i love love love her still. and i loved loved loved the life we spent together on this magical and alien island.

but i loved all of them. dogs of all sorts can sense i am not afraid of them (except in packs in certain dark temple squares in bangkok, in which i have a full on panic attack and yell). all the dogs of my dusty jungle village started sniffing around my house after 'puppy'. first because she was in heat, which i quickly put a stop to because the male dogs wanted to fight me for her! but later on because she was so obviously pampered, which is a transfixing oddity in thailand. there was scruffy, an old veteran of the survival scene. he had already proven himself a formidable alpha male and retired. he was loud and mean until we were alone at night, when he would snicker and cuddle. he choked and hemhorraged to death of heartworms on my floor- he went off in an insane cloud of flies. i watched the life ooze out of him for hours.... there was big mama, so pathetically and meekly accepting my cruelty. she really reminded me of my red-headed mother. i kicked big mama so hard one time i think i may have broken my toe. she still loved me to her literal death for feeding her. i took care of all nine of her puppies which she dragged rather sheepishly to my yard one day. such naive stupidity. i couldn't help that though. i loved every one of them as much as i could, even until i had to kill them to quench their wracking seizures, and bury them, me sweating and teary, behind the animal clinic. i loved the poisoned ones too who just died quietly in places they had crawled away to be alone in. & the ones who would venture tentatively, sniff warily at me, and bolt for the rice and sardines i would leave out under the house. be mine for a week or two, grateful and loving and well behaved, and disappear to never be seen again.... and goodbye 'sick', the dashingly handsome boy who appeared one day, shaking his mane at puppy and smiling. i took him in because he was irresistably charming (and someone had obviously dropped him off for me), not knowing that he had already survived a round of canine distemper (what most of my dogs died of) and some wicked flu, and now had a horrible auto immune disorder that would ultimately not allow him to fight off mites that would eat all his fur, leaving huge ghastly infected scabs on his bald skin, and making him feel like he was dying faster than he was. it sounds cheesy i know, but he always looked up to me with trust in his eyes, just like all the dogs who died. i had a strange connection with every one of them. they knew i loved them, and we both knew they would not be around long. i shared their fate more than any other human. it was obvious by how many of them hung around me, to the point where it was embarassing to leave my house and walk to a restaurant in the village, where my sickly but valiant dogs all tried to come in to sit at my feet, to the barely veiled disgust of the other humans.


i had to leave them though, because a place in which the lives of these animals was allowed to exist the way they did was so shocking to me. thais really seemed like such ruthless, heartless people in so many ways (i still believe they are, but have to keep in mind i was amongst a peculiar demographic, on an island where people would run to hide after they committed crimes, run by violent feuding drug mafia families who took offense to my straighforward NY'er ways and actually started hunting me down for them). i was a girl alone, which was strange. a girl who didn't fall for all their tricks, and who stayed too long in a place in which she was thus intruding, and garnered too much information in a socially awkward way. in a place where most of the people did not know much about the world at all outside of their small set of dirt roads lining the jungle and beach. and thais know how to scare you, yesirreee. they are not afraid of death- they don't think too much about it. they don't attach to any idea. they know you will bounce back as whatever it is you ultimately deserve, and they believe people and dogs attract their fate. life is cheap, blood is stimulation in a sleepy town where it is a physical impossibility for you to leave without their help. it is a dark, seedy existence in lush, ecstatic paradise.

paradise gets tedious too. the rotating of all those friends who were so happy and beautiful, smoking on my porch and drifting away back to their countries. waking up every day to the sounds of cocks and piglets. the yoga, the dancing, the completely uninhibited week long parties. i have to remember the lesson i learned from such decadence, to balance, and bask in love. gather the good and real things and people toward me and push the bad or superficial things away. i am trying to learn to detach in general. not depend on anything or anyone. you would think i would be a pro at that by now but i am too optimistic and stupidly hopeful that some day i won't be so alone. that humans are as worth loving and losing as dogs.

and that is the story for the day, boys and girls. my sad story of the dying off of the last dog, the one i tried to save and make into my family.... i learned today that the absolutely insane israeli woman i left her with was about as trustworthy as i expected and abandoned my spoiled girl recently. left her to the dogs. i would love to believe the other dogs would step aside gracefully in reflection of her innocence and grace, but i know the reality is she would have been torn apart immediately by either canine or human. and i have to send her messages in my dreams now. and apologies for abandoning her to that fate of hers, myself, despite desperate efforts otherwise and much twisting wrenching anguish.

that and the realization that my paradise was a shiny rainbow veneer on a dull stone, tied to my ankle, ready to drown me has me, well, down. the fact that i couldn't accomplish something i was passionate about. that no love is unconditional or without horrific pain. the fact that i really do belong in NY and not in a mystifying and unsympathetic place with no instilled moral code (even the US's contrived plastic billboard morals are preferable to none).

RIP 'puppy', because i know that place and i know you are too good for it. it will have eaten you up quickly. i had to escape before it ate me, and i hope all of you poor dogs understand. i choose to be happy and go towards the light. i will go and live for all of us.

and i think i have decided to cancel my impending visit back to thailand.



(oh p.s. here are pictures from my christmas trip to mexico, where we were stranded for 5 extra days while it blizzarded in NY)

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Wednesday, December 22, 2010

christ mass

the first christmas i remember was when i was 7 maybe. my younger brother was a toddler. he used to crawl around, and there were vents in the floor which got really hot in the wintertime and gave him blisters on his hands and knees. we were poor. we had a pathetic christmas tree, as usual. my main present was a pair of tennis shoes with stripes, to replace the ones i had grown out of. unwrapped. i shared a room with my 4 younger siblings. (step)daddy would get drunk. he got mad at my little brother for peeing in his pants and not on the potty chair. he beat the hell out of him, broke his collarbone. social services hauled my dad off, made him live in a hotel (where i was forced to go visit and sit quietly in the gray, airconditioned room, while i watched him twitch his feet in sleep for hours). most of the time i lived with my mom. i vaguely remember field trips with her (one in which i got a contagious yeast infection of the mouth- wonder what that was?!) to amazing cliff dwellings in the arizona canyons. i was in the 4H club. mom would bake and force us to go to church. daddy would feel my forehead and tell me i felt feverish. he would proffer and insist upon my chugging a whole bottle of nyquil. he would give me some pills too, which ensured a knock out evening.

this early christmas i remember him taking me to see my first r-rated movie ever; 'uncommon valor'. i remember waking up in the car afterwards, in the cold parking lot, with him breathing heavily in my face. i was staring out the window at the lights.

i don't remember the rest of the night. i know my sister and i would sneak up early to try to catch santa every christmas eve, so that is most likely what we did. i know i was unimpressed with my shoes. i know later on we had to pretend to be a perfect family whenever the caseworker brought dad for a visit. & due to the potential wrath of my mother, she bought it every time. i know i am so happy that that was 27 years ago...

i don't really care about christmas this year. haven't much paid attention- every day is the same in my little home office, after all. i did have a nice soundtrack of old timey christmas tunes in the car the other night with 't'. he told me how in austria they have a christ child with wings who brings you presents at 8pm, instead of santa. but that's it... i have no christmas tree. no family get together. no office party. no gift exchange. i am not even interested in seeing the christmas movies i usually pile up to zone out in front of.

but that doesn't mean it won't be a happy christmas. i will be sipping cocktails and watching the sunset on an island for the next 5 days.... so uhrhnnn all you normal people!!!!

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Wednesday, December 15, 2010

blah

it's definitely winter now and i am not sure if it is the fact that it is a nipply 20 degrees outside, the fact that i have stupidly accepted way too much work from clients, the fact that i have not really left my bed much at all, the fact that i have been swallowing tramadols like they're m&ms, or the fact that my bf-of-sorts has been mostly sleeping at his house lately (probably for the best) that has me feeling insanely witchy.

sigh. i know this about myself. i get evilly out of sorts this gray and gloomy time of year. i hate that the sun sets around 4:30p. i hate that it's christmas and i don't have anyone around to care about. i hate that i can't just walk happily around my neighborhood in flip flops and pet doggies. i hate that i start to detest & revile anyone in my immediate proximity. especially if they are fat and loud and obnoxious and damaged and gross and stupid!

...thank the lordy for radiolab. for psychology and astral physics video lectures from the web. for netflix and kayak and youporn. for bottles of white wine, footy pajamas, and the thick brainless hardcover book i am reading myself to sleep with. thanks for my new handheld herb vaporizor which looks moronic but does the job nicely. thanks for my tickets to an island just off cancun next week. thanks for somehow making me just wimpy enough to never be able to put myself out of my misery.

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