Poetry
I came across some poetry that I used to read over and over, and it's amazing the quality of feeling that it can evoke, hearing those words, listening to those emotions. I was blessed early on in life with some kind of gift of writing, yet I am always in awe at how basic lines can convey the profoundest of feelings, and I am always aspiring to reach that place where someone can say that about my writing. Which explains one thing, why I am so much of a letter writer, yet can't find a single person who wants to exchange letters. Dammit. If you're that person, let me know. (friend or not)
So I want to share with you one of my favorite poems, and it sort of fits where I am in my life at this point. I would recommend that you read it aloud, for the words bring a certain sound to them that can't be replaced if you read it just in your head. Go ahead, maybe if someone's listening, they'll think you are a literary genius.
From time to time, I hope to post a few of my favorite poems for your perusal, and hopefully inspire the poet in all of us.
Thanks,
Voodoo
Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines by Pablo Neruda
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, `The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night, whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
Return to the Universe
I'm sure you all remember my last visit to Club Universe. Well, I went back. But before I got there, I went other places. I hung out with family at the Casino, and that went well. Food, family, watching the kids grow up, watching everyone ask you if you're going to get married soon. Fresh. I got a call from PigPen and we went to
Venture Frogs. It was packed with college kids (and I guess some high school ones). No problem. We got in for free, so I ain't trippin. Laggin' bartenders, but all is well.
We bounced from there, and El Gato (who was at Vfrogs already) and I went to Universe. Pig Pen, didn't feel like rollin' with us after crapping out with every girl he asked to dance with at Vfrogs. He didn't want to break any hearts at U, so he went home, and we went a dancing.
I was half expecting to see the Hairy Beast pop out of nowhere, but no such luck.Thank god for that. I didn't get a dick in my backpocket again. It was nice and normal like it always is. Just go, hang out, dance my ass off, and have a good time. No pressure, and no freakiness. I am amazed to see some men who were there from back in the day when I used to go there religiously. It's a little freaky, well, because here I am, from back in the day as well. Moon Cake will know that the music was much better than the week before.
Sweaty shirtless men, good music (we found the sweet spot inbetween the two large tower speaker sets and in front of the subwoofers), and no Hairy Pud Busters. I think I'm back in love with the place. Way to bring in Easter.
Voodoo
Living
I took today off to deal, and also to heal. Sometimes we need a day or two to ease up and feel okay, and today was my day. I am better, thanks for your emails an IMs.
I went to Napa with El Gato. Visited my favorite winery,
V. Sattui and also
Niebaum Coppola (yes that's Coppola as in Francis Ford Coppola). Tasted some good wine, bought a few bottles, and I'm ready to go. So if you'd like to have dinner with me (assume you're buying) I'll bring the wine. When in Napa,you go wine tasting and a tasting your Voodoo did go, and boy, that's some good grapes. I got my buzz together, and also got to sit in the sun and enjoy the beautiful San Francisco Bay Area.
I got to see an
Oscar. I was excited.
Driving through the country for a City girl such as myself is such a big deal. El Gato and I chatted up a storm, laughed over old music, and ran a few red lights. And that was before we wine tasted. Ahh. We went straightaway to the Coach Factory Store. I like my new
purse.
A long day in the country. Good for the soul. Not to mention terrible for the shopper in me. Three shirts, candle vase, wine. mmmmm. Pay day.
I got home, called up the Enforcer and Hockey Guy. We went to
Calzone's on Columbus to get some late night grub (#30: Angel hair with tomatoes, olives and basil) and look at my pics from France and Spain. I want to go back! Anyone want to hook a girl up? I'll blog ya from there!
The prize of the night/day goes to the Fortune Cookie Garage on Vallejo and Stockton. The NEW garage, not the old one next to the police station. I was driving up the ramp and noticed that there were little sayings painted in each car stall. I was amazed to read that each one was different, and had some tidbit of wisdom. The Enforcer and I laughed loud and hard at particular ones, and hopefully we'll be back to take pictures and have a good time. I highly recommend that you at least walk through and see some of the funny sayings. We went all the way to the roof and were bustin' up.
Anyways, it was a nice day, and I had a great time. Even though it was in the back of my mind, I was able to release a little tension and feel at ease. Tomorrow I'm off as well, and hopefully the beach will be calling my name.
Best wishes all, and thanks for the love,
Voooodooooo
The Other Side
I walked into my office today and said Good Morning to my student assistant. His eyes were a little tired and he mumbled a What's Up. I went to my office and opened the door, put my things down and turned on my computer. Last night I remember telling myself to not worry about checking my email, but for some reason I had to. I don't know. At any rate, I sat up in my chair to wait for the news. I also hit my vmail button and went to check my messages. There were a flurry of messages. Wow. Email too. Wow.
64 Oz. comes into my office, and squats to the floor. I look at him puzzled, and he said to me, "I don't know about this email, but I don't think anyone would joke about it." He asked if I would look at it. It was 10:30, I just got in, what did I miss? He showed me an email that said one of my students passed away. Monday. They were trying to get a hold of me via phone yesterday, those were the messages. The emails, I just glanced at them. She passed away when?
I read and reread the email to make sure it was real. I felt like a part of me got slammed. Deep sighs all day. I just saw her two weeks ago at a meeting. I sat in my chair, shocked and replayed all the events in my head. I watched scenes from when she absolutely bugged me until when she made me crack up. And I watched the scene where I had to let her go from her job here at the office because she wasn't doing well in school, and I felt she needed to work on her academics rather than mess around here all day. Then I felt some numbness come over me, and it was the coldest feeling in the world.
She was only 21.
What's sad is that I've seen death so many times, the loss of someone doesn't quite seem to phase me the way it used to. What's happy is that my philosophical beliefs have led me to the place where I feel that death is only a beginning, a cycle we all go through, or someone just loved her enough that it was time for her to return. But my emotions aren't telling me anything of that right now. I'm sad. My students who have worked with her in the past are sad as well. They are away on break now, and it's as if I'm happy they're not here to deal with her loss. It would be too much. But that's just me being selfish. I want to be alone in my grieving. As a counselor, who counsels us through our grief? I have very little support, but the support I do have is great, but there are times when I'm busy ministering to everyone else that no one stops to ask me how I'm doing, and I know I'm falling apart.
I originally wanted to write something about loss and change for a friend, but I realize now that loss and change apply just as much to my situation. Here goes. There are cycles of grief, according to Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, that people go through after a death. Not that we all MUST go through it, but we all experience grief in similar ways:
denial of death people are unable to admit to themselves that the someone might die and/or they will suffer the loss death represents;
anger by which the pain of loss is projected onto others;
bargaining which represents a last effort at overcoming death by "earning" longer life;
depression when the full impact of imminent death strikes them; and
acceptance when the grieving come to grips with the fact of the person's death and makes preparation for it.
At the early onset of someone's death, the stages start at denial and go through acceptance. You'll notice that not everyone accepts right away, not everyone moves through in a timely manner. Sometimes these things happen over time, be it a month or years. It's the same thing with relationships. After breaking up, people are usually in some form of denial, then move through the stages. Now, I'm not going to lay each stage down for you, you're all smart Voodoo Babies. I trust you'll be able to figure it out for yourself.
But what I will do is say this: the point is that people MOVE when they are ready to move. They assume the next stage when completion of another one ends. They progress if and only if they choose so, and again, this is highly dependent on the person, the ability to internalize and maximize change, and the amount of support that one receives from his/her community and family. Makes sense, doesn't it? Not always, and that's okay. It's hard to negotiate death and dying as well as breaking up, not that I can equate the two, because I know better. However, change as a important component of understanding and naming the experience that death and breaking up brings to us is crucial.
When my students come back, I will no doubt have to be conscious of the pain that will come from their loss yet be able to manage my own. It's not going to be easy for many of them were very close to her.Yet with all things, this too shall pass. Relationships are the same way, loss shall heal with time. It isn't always easy to let go, I know that for a fact, but sometimes the act of letting go is the most freeing thing that you can do, both for your significant other and for yourself.
She was young, always happy, sometimes so goofy it was hard to tell if she was playin'. She did a lot of the things that we did when we were her age: relationship drama, party, hang out late, stress over homework, show up for work late, have fun, make other people laugh, and give us every reason to miss her now that she's gone. And I for one will miss her, as will countless others on my campus, in my office, and in her community.
Voodoo
Making a List...
told to the people of Shem ( Egypt ) in 36,000 BC
1. be not proud, for pride stops the learning process
2. fear is the only bondage
3. follow thy own heart always, for no riches can overcome a heavy heart.
4. if someone comes to you, let them speak freely, and if they hesitate to open their heart fully, it is because you, the judge, doeth the wrong
5. speak not, nor listen to extravagant speech
6. silence is golden
7. if you are powerful among men, be honored for knowledge and gentleness
8. if you seek to know the nature of someone, do not ask their friends nor their enemies, but pass time alone with this person, and test their heart.
9. do not keep knowledge secret, share with all who ask
10. do not let the words of the ignorant effect thee. the vibrations from the mind of a person are perceptible. words are not necessary.
11. the wise man lets his heart overflow, but keeps his mouth silent.
12. the body returns to earth, the soul returns to the eternal fire, he who knows the soul within, shall ascend unto the eternal flame
13. man supports himself only on that which resists. So Earth must resist man else he existeth not.
14. man is a star bound to a body, until in the end, he is freed through his struggle and toil.
Be at peace.
Voodoo
Heh
I don't know quite how to top that last story. In fact, I'm not quite sure if that's entirely possible.
Some of you have emailed me asking if I'm absolutely serious. Much to my dismay, yes I am absolutely serious, and still somewhat traumatized from the events of that late Saturday night. I've been slightly ill these last few days, and I think running around after Universe with a soaked shirt made for a great opportunity to get sick. I've been working on my Boston album, which I'll be putting online shortly, so if you have any recommendations about what you'd like me to write about, please do let me know.
So let me get back to my sweat-induced rest (not related to the sweat-induced lust, that's completely different). BTW, I've ordered my
BRL sweatshirt. I can't wait to get it. I'm so hyped!!! And do you have yours?
Voodoo
Wow, Does that Mean You Like Me?
Last night's foray into the Dance World that is known as San Francisco took me to my favorite dance club, Club Universe. Let's be clear about one thing: It's a gay club, full of shirtless guys. I love house music to dance to, and that's why I go. The eye candy is a plus. I go there also because I don't have to worry about shitty guys grabbing me (Sound Factory) or swashbuckler's ball (what used to be DV8). It's a pressure-free environment that I go to to have a good time.
Last night was a good time. Until--
Moon Cake told me that I have this ability to always meet at least one guy from Universe. I attract 'em like flies to poopy. Last night was apparently my night. I met quite a few men who were actually interested in me. Cute too! I bumped into one, then he came up to me and said, "
Ooh, well! It's all good because I'm bisexual." We smiled at each other, he blew me a kiss (it's a gay guy thing). He went to dance with his friends only a few feet away. Then I looked up to see he was still looking at me. Then he came over to me and said, "Wow girl you are so groovy." I know it sounds like he just dropped out of the sky from a magic carpet from the 60's, but I'll take compliments where I can get them. He turned to walk back, then I grabbed him and said, "How are you going to walk away from me and not dance with me?" I'm good like that. So we do intros (Garrett, 36, Asian, native San Franciscan, lives in Noe Valley). Then we dance real good, and I have to leave because Moon Cake looked like she was going to fall on the ground. We eye each other throughout the night. I am enjoying myself.
I walk through the club a few times and make crazy eye contact, get a few "Hi Cutie"s out of the guys and maybe even bump and grind with more. Moon Cake, myself and her friend head over to the other side of the club (it's IMMENSE), and we dance in the middle because Friend says she was going deaf in one ear. Might as well go deaf in the other, right? I move into the middle, start dancing by myself. Next thing you know, a guy grabs my hips. I turn around to see who it is, and it's probably the WORST thing that could go down. It was a short, hairy guy with his shirt off. Note: Most men at Universe have their shirts off. God has given us some fine specimens of manhood, and I was now dancing with one of the practice batches before He got to perfection. He pulls me closer, I make sure to keep my distance. But behind him, pulling me closer is a HOT Filipino guy, so I humor the Hairy Beast and try to maneuver my way around to Hot Pinoy Boy. Next thing you know, I'm talking to HPB with HB in the middle. I'm basically ignoring the walking soggy rug even tho he's trying to get friendly with me. We're all sweaty and it's an interesting feeling, but add hair to the mix and it feels like a wet rug. Not good.
Hairy Dude is busy trying to get Hot Pinoy Boy to put his hands down his pants. No really, this is happening. I'm not making any of this up. This is not Two Truths and a Lie. I turn around, and Hairy Dude tries to stick his hands down my pants. No really, like he was digging for change. There's no subtlety about this AT ALL. I pull his hand out and just told him HELL no. He apologizes. All good, I should have left right then and there, but then HPB comes in front of me, and wowee, it's Voodoo Sammich time. Life perks up. He tells me a little about himself in accented English. He starts talking Tagalog to me, and I have a sense that he's starting to talk about Hairy Man. Hairy Man is getting up close and personal with Voodoo's ass, and I feel something on me, and I assume it's his hands. This has happened before, and I don't mind it, but I turn around to check.Then I hear this:
"He has his dick out!"
Thanks for the warning. I look down, and sure enough it's his dick. (Flaccid, geez, I can't even get this nasty hairy dude hard. What's wrong with me? I feel so undesired. Joke, it's a joke.)
It's dark in the club, I can barely see details, but I know what I saw. I start laughing because 1) I can't believe this guy took out his pecker, 2) he thinks that's like "cool", and 3) I'm assuming he wants me to yank it or something. I turn around and kiss HPB goodbye (not THAT kinda kiss) and say it was fun. I turn around and said later to Hairy Man and laughed at him again. Not
laugh, but that laugh that gives you shrinkage. Guys know what I'm talking about.
I was so grossed out by the whole experience, and very disappointed because it went against the whole reason I go to Universe: to escape that kind of penis wagging (excuse the pun) that happens in straight clubs. AT least straight clubs you'll feel a boner, but not the actual flesh on flesh action. Seven years of Universe and not one single bad night. It makes me a little sad to be honest. Nice to know I got skills to hook up, but not that way, and certainly not with him.
Ready to hang up my Universe VIP card,
Voodoo
Taking it off
Shoes. Enzo Angiolini. Stonestown Mall. Beautiful pair of loafers. Black. Buckle over the front.
A silver ring on my pointer finger on my left hand. It says Real Love is Forever ...The Crow. I bought it when I had a major break up that messed with my head, and I was convinced then as I am now, that it is forever, and if it comes back, then it's yours. If it's not, live well, live large, and the next time you meet, they'll be reminded of how wunderbar you are.
A gold Irish wedding ring on my right middle finger. Hands are for friendship The heart is for love. The crown is for loyalty.It can never be bought by the wearer, but it has to be bought by someone else. My mom gave it to me when I was in high school. Wear it right side up, you're spoken for. Wear it upside down, it means you're single and looking. It's currently upside down.
Diamond/gold earrings. Gift from mom.
Diamond cartilege stud. Gift from ex-boyfriend. Wanted diamonds, but he bought the smallest size possible. All good, that's why he's my ex.
Winnie the Pooh watch. Same ex-boyfriend. He took off some links, so it'd fit my wrist, and what wound up happening is that he took them from the same side, so it's unbalanced and always rubs up on my wrist bone.
Bra. Whoever said that 42 dollars is too much for a bra never tried this one on. It actually fits and helps the twins say a righteous hello to passersby. The $56 one is even better.
Necklace from France. Bought it from a French lady who visits campus every so often. Looks like a daisy, my favorite flower.
Socks. Nothing special, just socks. Probably one of those I bought because the washing machine at my other socks. One of my students once said to me, "You know that you're dressed well, because you have nice socks." Okay. Thanks.
Blue INC Notch cut pullover. Cleavage shirt. Looks good with $56 bra.
Black Express Bootcut Stretch Pants. What Asian girl does not own this pair of pants? It's a staple for me. Casual, dress-up, gym, you name it. It's been there. That's why I have three pairs.
Okay, now I'm cold.
Goodnight.
Voodoo
We Have a Winner...But
Okay, so whoever was peeping my site from AOL at 10:28 PM,
claim yo' shit. I don't know who you are, but obviously you've been to Voodoo's before, so much love to you!
And to the honey from SFSU who's peepin' (and liked to refresh to load that mess up?) shit, I'll buy you a beer too.
Anyone else feel the need for a prize? Don't worry, I have some to give. Shoot me your address. See what comes next.
Thanks for making BRL and Voodoo Child bomb diggity, my beautiful Voodoo Babies. And thank #5000 and the rest to come.
Voodoo
5000
Okay here's the deal. In the next day I expect to get my 5000th hit. Whoever is #5000 will get 1) postcards from San Francisco courtesy of the Voodoo, and 2) free beer and (maybe dinner if you're cute) if you're close enough to go hang out with. Sound good?
You must know your IP address in order to qualify, and if you want a postcard from me (no free beer, you lush)
email me your addy.
Voodoo
When the Lights Go Down in the City, and other songs that make you want to bawl
I was at CostCo, the great vacuum attached to my wallet, and I picked up my pictures from Boston. All 11 rolls. Yah, and guess what, no pictures of Pork Honey. I think it was a conspiracy. Maybe he can't be photographed lest his spirit be taken. I wonder.
At any rate, I was cruising through the store (never do this unless you're under direct supervision), and I found things that I wanted to buy. I picked them up and just put them in my cart. The cart, by the way, is the size of a Ford Focus. Seats a family of four. So this philosophy of market wisdom is if your cart has the little wire squares still exposed, you will want to fill it up so your shit in the cart doesn't go flying around OR you feel compelled for some godforsaken reason to fill your cart because the freakin' Armageddon might strike us all down, and thank god for the 24 pack of vienna sausage cause I wouldn't know what the hell to do.
I picked up a skirt, bananas, salami (no there is no correlation between the phallus-like qualities of my food choices), baguettes, cucumbers (just kidding about the last two), and a CD from the group Journey. You might be thinking Journey? Aint' you the ghetto lovin' girly shake that ass like an atlanta extra on a ludacris video? Well, yes I am, but I love some white folk music. So I slip the CD in on my way home, and I start hearing music from my past. Then the weirdest thing goes through me, like I'm feelin' as if I was back in the day, chillin' under the stars with my bro and his friends, hanging out with no cares. I'm transported into a space where I'm another person, no worries, no fears. I started to sing these songs, even though I haven't heard them in years, and the words spill out like nothing.
It's amazing, the way that music impacts you, as if to tell you don't forget about me, I'm still here in your head, waiting for you to remember. When you hear that slow song that you and your ex danced to. When you hear the song that was played at your graduation. When you hear that song someone sang to you many years ago. The song you heard as a kid, you in bed just thinking of anything. When you find the song you want to play at your funeral (don't ask, but we all have one, don't we). The song that you've always wanted to sing to someone but never had the guts to.
Feel it snap you back into a place and time and space and air that's long gone. But it's there, always there, waiting for you to remember.
When the lights go down in the City, and the sun shines on the Bay
Ooh I want to be there in my City
So you think you're lonely, well my friend I'm lonely too
I want to get back to my City by the Bay
It's sad, oh there's been mornings out on the road without you
Without your charms
What song's racing through your head right now?
Hit me on the comments
Voodoo
Italian for Beginners
Cute movie. You might want to peep it. I enjoyed it thoroughly and enjoy a good laugh every now and then. I went with the Drunken Masta, my fellow Foreign Movie Buff. Other foreign movie buffs: Hockey Dude, and well, hm. That's it. I guess no one likes to read the subtitles these days.
I won't get into the movie, but I will say that learning a second language is a whole new planet. If you have never done so in your whole life, you're missing out on some crucial things, and I don't mean just ordering at ethnic restaurants, but a whole world view that lays out there just waiting for you. I can vouch for it myself, speaking french and some spanish here and there. I know for a fact that it has helped me move out of my comfort zone to be in another country yet feel at ease because I know the language. I know that people treat you a little different if you just make the effort to talk in their native tongue. I know that my life has been enriched, but that's just me.
One thing's for sure, it's nice to go to Europe and find that other tongues are spoken readily. Here? Speak another language, and your public funding is jacked. Go figure. So much for progressive life in the US.
Voodoo
Monday Yammering
Damn, can't think of a single thing.
Voodoo
Workin It Out
No, I didn't call him. I all of a sudden lost any courage I had to call, and hell, I'll shoot a call out to him later on this week. Anyways, I am just back from a club with
the Weekender,
Mighty Mom,
Open the Light,
Mista J,,
Drunken Masta, The
Boy Wonder, Dr. Evil,
Squeak and the rest of the Voodoo Children Posse. Such a lovely time to be held at 330 Ritch. I'll leave the Weekender to detail the events and review the experience, but I'll tell you: some fine ass men in the house!
I don't mean to degrade all men by making them sound like pieces of meat to be admired in a glass case, rather, I was amazed at the number of good looking Filipino men there were in the house. I fell in love a few too many times, but like the girls say, too bad they're all short. I love you Filipino guys, I really do, but damn, God sure did skip on that tall gene. Although, it must be said that The Boy Wonder is literally head and shoulders above the rest. I hardly ever get impressed with the Pinoys at clubs these days, but life was indeed lovely tonight. Again, my faith in men has been restored. (Courtesy of Felonious Monkey and Pork Honey, the latter of which IS the Alpha Male [can I clone you and keep one?])
At any rate, it's been awhile since I grooved with my girls and boys on the dance floor, and it was extra special cause Mighty Mom came out with us and left Git In Mah Belly with Brahma Bull. She hasnt' been dancing with us in a long time (weddings don't count, sorry), so the opportunity to shake dat booty was opportune, to say the least.
The occasion? Open the Light's birthday. Strictly Business is back in business. Wanting to see the Drunken Masta in true form. Lovely, just lovely.
I had a great time, but I tell you, don't ever EVER work on your legs and go dancing that night. Are you crazy? Apparently I am.
About Last Night
I went out last night with Hockey Dude, and we saw
Monsoon Wedding> It's quite a beautiful and lush pic, and I would like to recommend it to all 2nd gen kids out there (most of you, right?). I won't go into the story, but allow me to say that it's amazing how one's culture is much like that of another's, even with significant differences, we all seem to have the same issues.
Ooh, and I got my new Sprint phone (fuck Cingular for LIFE), and got lucky enough to get a few calls. How lovely. Will you call me too?
And on that note, off to bed I go. Long day ahead, children. A long day ahead.
Voodoo
Debate
Someone I barely just met, but know from my online life gave me a phone number to his old roommate. He said to call him. I don't know roommate's name. I need a date for Saturday. What to do?
I seek the guidance of the Voodoo Babies.
Voodoo
Don't Ask the Questions You Don't Want to Hear the Answers to.
You may recall, on my journey to Boston, I decided to sucker up and call the ex that did me wrong. Why, you might ask? Well, I did so because 1) I was thinking about him since I was on that side of the world, 2) I thought maybe it would be possible to get some ex sex (joke, really), 3) I found myself thinking it would be nice to really see if we were cool, 4) why the hell not, I haven't learned from my mistakes, and 5) I'm a loser.
The trip goes and ends without a phone call. I think 1) he didn't get it, 2) he didn't want to see me, 3) he didn't get it, and 4) he didn't get it. You can see the pattern forming here, and it's not quite cute, but bear with me. There is a lesson learned.
I get back to San Francisco, and I think to myself, I wonder if he ever got the message? [this is the part where you read the title of the post and you think, "is there some foreboding here?". Thanks.] I spend the next 72 hours asking myself if he really did get it, and if he really did try to call, and maybe if he really wanted to find out what's going on and all this other crap that I'm just wondering out loud and staring at the ceiling looking for an answer somewhere amongst, as Pork Honey so eloquently said before he kicked my ass in Scrabble, the stucco.
So before I drafted this email, I 1) worked out and got no buffer than I already am, 2) watched big sweaty guys hug, 3) found a UPS notice saying my phone was delivered but since no one is home [who the hell is home during UPS delivery hours] it went back to UPS land, and 4) said what's up to my bird and fed the fish who are in a tank full of algae. I also 5) checked the status of the message to see if he actually got it, since in my mind, he would have called if it was meant to be, and wanting to know the truth so I can move on with my life, whew, you're probably sick of me going on and on over this, but let me tell you...
He checked it and never called.
So what does this mean for the Voodoo? 1) Move on, heffa, it's about damn time, 2) He was a punk busta anyways, and if he weren't some dude who could single-handedly take over a small country you'd send some dude over to whup on him cause he broke your heart in a million pieces, 3) Didn't you meet some really cute guys in Boston? 4) Who needs someone who can't be cool with you even though you've pretty much done it all for him? and 5) Guys like him are few and far between, but wouldn't you rather be stuck with a guy who's good to you and hang onto that rather than the memory of something that was once cool, but really a piece of fetid cheese waiting to drop on your head?
That's life, I tell myself. It's now time to bounce and get over it. It's also time that I let go, finally let go of that part of my life and quit looking behind me. So should I have answered the question? Sure. I needed to, and now we know.
Voodoo
Somewhere out there
Beneath the pale moonlight
Someone's thinking of me
And loving me tonight
[gag]
Change the song on the radio, kid, it's startin' to make me ill.
Voodoo
Convo Con Dio
[written on American Airlines flight 489, from Boston to Chicago, seat 16C]
“How’s your flight?”
I turned my head and saw god sitting next to me. “American’s got good leg room.”
“Sure does, don’t it?” God stretched out those long legs and folded his hands on his chest. His hands flickered briefly and took on the shape of a woman’s well-manicured hands.
“But you really want to know what I’m thinking, don’t you?”
“Sure, I’d love to. You seem like you’ve got some things on your mind.”
“I do.” I sighed loudly. I kicked off my flip flops and wiggled my toes. “It’s nice to be going back home, you know? But I have this weird feeling about something left behind.”
“Where, in Boston?” God was taken aback.
“Come on now, you’re the all-powerful, omniscient one. Didn’t you see this coming?” I smiled, and luckily he smiled back at me. “You of all people.” I snorted.
“Well, sometimes I do see things going on, but I can’t exactly read your mind or know what’s in your heart.” He seemed smug and again his form wavered a bit into that of a small child staring at me with wide eyes.
“That’s understandable. But maybe you’re using those counseling tricks I learned in school. You know, to ask others to name what they’re feeling rather than you naming it for me. The whole ownership bit.” I wiggled my toes and stared ahead. “In which case I don’t blame you. Works for me most of the time.”
“So what is it then?” The child stared at me and blinked slowly a few times before I could answer.
“I’m going to be honest with you—“
“As well you should be,” God quipped.
“Wait, I’m trying to figure it out,” I paused briefly to gather my thoughts. “You know how much I really like going on by myself, doing my own thing—“
“Independence?”
“Yah, that.” I closed my eyes and said to God, “It’s not easy to be on your own and not be at the same time.” Brief moments of living on my own at the Voodoo Mansion and Atelier flashed into my head. “You know I miss that.”
“Yah I do know.” He paused a moment. In a meanwhile, flashes of new people I met, people I wanted to get to know, places I wanted to go raced through my head. His gentle voice asked, “why do you feel like you left something behind?”
“I don’t know, maybe it’s because I don’t have that kind of freedom at Chez Voodoo.” I felt like I was trying to name something that I didn't know how to name. I hovered in that space where I feel like I can't say something, but have to.
“You always have, so why are you worried?”
“No I don’t.” I snapped.
“You do.” God morphed into an older woman, Native American. She stared at me with those wizened eyes and I couldn’t help but stare back.
“I guess. I just miss that, that’s all. It’s nice to have company and even someone to talk to.”
“Is that what it’s really about? People?”
“Hmmmm. Part of it.” I thought out loud for a few minutes. “Some of it’s people, some of it’s freedom, some of it’s wanting a change of scenery, some of it’s wanting – “
“Wanting.”
“Wanting.” The girl across the isle from me shifted as if to listen to our conversation. I shot her a mean glance and found that she was sleeping. I turned back slowly and wanted to just sink into my chair. The stress of wanting started to wear on me. That plus I hate it when God outthinks me.
The silence lasted a few minutes. In those few minutes I saw God morph into a vision of me.
“Quit wanting things. Things will come to you if you let them.”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t need to know, you just need to be. How hard is that, dog?”
“Hard enough at times.”
“No one ever said this mess was going to be easy. You be coo? Remember too, honey, that the more you want for something, the less able you are to accept your present. ”
“Yah, I guess.” We've had this conversation before, many times. Sometimes over dinner, watching the sunset, and quietly listening to the screaming bird in the garden.
“Don’t guess, just know. Girl, just know.” With that the vision of me morphed into nothing and I found myself falling asleep. Sometimes it’s easier to fall asleep than to let your mind take over—I thought to myself.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep. Open your eyes, and take life head on. It’ll come to you.”
“Shit! I thought you left.”
“Never! Remember, all powerful, all omniscient.” God grinned.
I laughed. Has a point there.
Voodoo
Back in Warmth of the Sun
I'm back home now, thankfully, all in one piece, albeit a little worn and busted in the corners.
The flight? Long.
The food? Bad.
The company? Not as bad.
Pictures? 9 rolls. Count 'em. 9
I managed to do some writing on the plane, one of which turned out to be more volatile than I wanted it to be, but I'll save that for later. Honey, lemme tell you, that it's amazing what the isolation of being in a plane away from much of the distraction of the world can bring to your mind. And lots of things came. Regrets? None. Happy? You bet. Grateful? Always.
Now, according to my body clock, I'm still on Boston time, and therefore fading fast. I'll be retiring to my comfy big ol' bed soon to enjoy some shut eye.
Goodnight and the tale of the tape from the office will be here tomorrow,
Voodoo
PS: I'll be posting my observations about Boston here shortly. Keep yer eyeball heyeh!
Update from Boston
My last day in Boston took me to Cambridge where I watched #24 play some ball (hit the ball hard, honey), and peeped some of the fellas. Good game to watch. I would have liked to stay and watch more. I had a good time watching vball, and it inspired me to play even more. I went to Harvard with The Apostle, and we had a good time getting lost (my bad), and running around the campus.
It was a surreal scene, with lots of people hanging around campus, playing games, studying. It was unseasonably warm with people in tank tops, etc. And it was exciting for them. It was more like every day for me and the Apostle. How hilarious. Pictures to follow.
There were some dorm rooms bumping Ludacris, and I figured that it would be my room. I would love to do college over.
We stopped off at The Bull and Finch, inspiration for Cheers, had a beer and watched people do their thing. My stomach's been very strange since I got here, and it's hard for me to sit still because it doesn't feel good. Sucks to be me.
Yesterday I spent the day with Pork Honey (aka Alpha Male). We were at the Museum of Fine Art and actually spent the whole day there. I confessed that it was nice to be able to spend time with someone who can somewhat appreciate art (albeit I'm not quite sure what peaches and dead fish have to do with impressionists), especially a guy. Portraitures are always interesting because some of the looks of folk's faces are quite intriguing. Much love to Pork Honey...
Yah, and I had the misfortune of scaring the shit outta someone when I stood up and somehow freaked him out and slammed him against the display. I didn't touch him, I swear (an older guy). He proceeded to go off on me, and I apologized and it wasnt' quite accepted. I tried not to get in his face, although I would have liked to.
Dinner with Pork Honey, No Vert, and the Beave took us to Vici, and later to May's Cafe for an overdose of Almond Extract. I'm so used to boba coming in a variety of 40+...that seeing some place with less than 12 was cute. I wish I could have hung out longer with the guys, but after a long day of chillin', it was nigh time to chill and get some rest.
Anyways, it's time for me get some rest. Going out to dinner and then to dancing with the fellas. I have some other notes to make about my trip that I've left out for reasons that will be explained later. Hey, kids, I'll see you all back in San Francisco. Hope the weather is still nice, and hope that your lovely faces are doing well.
Yo' Queen misses the Bay. Look forward to flying out tomorrow.
Love from,
Voodoo
I'm going to keep this real brief. The buzz is wearing off, and I've got a lot of things on my mind, and the blog is going to shut down for a few hours.
I just got back from a club. Lots of Asian people, but I was surprised to see some tranny girls there. (that's transgender for you folks in Illinois) The guys were chicken hawkin' and I was dyin. At any rate, fun time. I'm buzzin' from three raging bulls (these heffa bartenders don't know how to mix) and two beers. My tolerance has gone up considerably. I'm proudly sporting my Boston Red Sox size L youth teeshirt. I figured that I can buy young kids' clothes cause they fit and save me at least 50%. You know the markup on girl's clothes is insane?!
I have a story for you, basically the story of my life. I wanted for a while to call a certain someone from my past since I'm out in town, and I've been putting it off for emotionally stabilizing reasons. So what it boils down to is that I don't have the cajones to do so. I'm afraid he won't call me back or he will call me back. Go figure. I'm a mess. At any rate, I wanted to say hi, maybe hope he'd beg to see me. I forgot his number since I haven't called it for a year (seriously that's the truth). I went dancing, thought about calling him there, remembered his number, then I walked up to the phone in my hotel room and dialed the number.
I was nervous, I was a little shaky. What to say? Do I sound desperate calling him? Oh gosh, do I have the number right?
So I call the number. I dial carefully. I remember the motion of what it felt like to dial those numbers.
Everything is in slow motion.
And
It's disconnected.
I fucking suck!
Voodoo
When was the last time I was happy?
I was reading an article in Sports Illustrated that posed the question "When was the last time you were happy?" to some of sport's most famous athletes. When I was finished reading, I sat back and thought about the last time I was happy.
And I sat for quite a while.
It wasn't my graduation. It wasn't my birthday. It wasn't when I finished my paintings. It wasn't when I slept in last. It wasn't when I was out with a boy at the beach. It wasn't when he used to call me on his way to work because he was thinking of me. It wasn't when I was with my entire family having dinner. I was hard pressed to find something that felt happy. It wasn't New Year, Christmas, Valentine's Day, or any of those holidays.
Had I been deluding myself and looking for happiness where I knew it wasn't going to be? Maybe I had bigger expectations of what happy, pure and simple, was to look like and be. I felt sad, and honestly that's been sitting in the pit of my stomach all day. Am I missing something entirely? Am I thinking too much into it? Am I in the wrong life at the wrong time? Yah, that's pretty damn deep.
At any rate, maybe I'll get over it for I don't believe that this is a real problem. Real in a sense that this is a bad space for me to be in. Real as in I'm not making this up. At all. We'll see. I'll keep you posted.
Voodoo
[update: I was happy when I heard the screaming bird outside my window for the first time since last year. I was even happier when I whistled at it, and it whistled back to me in the exact same tone. Yah, that's pretty sad too. So now I'm back to where I started. Great.]
10 Minute Writing Assignment
This is what I had to do for a meeting today. In 10 minutes.
Recent change has been a theme of my life for the last year - new job, new relationship status, new living situation, new outlook. I dealing with the change, I've come to understand the way in which possibilities create new ways of thinking, seeing and being. Not all change is bad. Not all change is good.
The recent change tha thas not caused a great deal of intrapsychic strife or internal drama ( you choose your favorite phrase) is the change in creative phases in my life. As is habit, I am a writer. I write constantly. In my job, I write. In my personal pursuits, I write. The amount of work related writing I have been doing, has dulled my creative brain's pencil, so to speak. There is no "lead" there. How frustrating.
I have spent countless hours peering at my computer screen at home preparing a manuscript of a book proposal (I have two children's books to be sent to publishers), yet I can't seem to do the creative end of things. I am the contributer/webmistress for BRL, 40+visits a day, yet I can't seem to give much.
I've come to understand the nature of change to reaffirm my commitment to my art, and it has encouraged me to work harder by being looser, flexible and even get out of my head a little bit to do what I truly enjoy - write the things I want to write.
Work is more fun when it's not work.
Voodoo
PS: My nerves are seriously frayed. I need to figure out why.
Voodoo Gets the Digits
Two nights ago, someone I didn't know heard me walking and said, 'you're got that purposeful walk.' I do walk fairly hard (ask my bro who lives downstairs from me) and even my students hear me coming. It's funny because they know when I'm coming, so they straighten up...At any rate, I have this tendency to walk with some purpose. Doing so, I've noticed that it really impacts the way you carry yourself, and the way that people perceive you. It is indeed, my power walk.
So I tend to do this when I am in unfamiliar territory, and always at work. It's quite intriguing. I know I don't seem like I'm clueless if I have that 'purpose.' Which in fact is the case most of the time.
I'm cruisin', doing my thang in the Prudential Shops, and I notice a man walking in the opposite direction. He's older, kinda scraggly looking. He sees me, does a U turn, and starts to go in my general direction. I take off my name tag which is dangling from my bag and has my FULL name (my real name too, but I'll tell you more about that later) and my place of employment, and I dump it in my bag. All by instinct and doesn't look forced. I'm thinking, "oh, he probably forgot something," then just go in my merry way. I don't care, I even try to bypass him, and he almost bumps into me (please see
The Big Aiyah for 'weak game'). He makes niceties, apologizing and what not. I blow him off, and he starts to get friendly with me. Mind you, I'm doing my purposeful walk that should normally convey that I'm not some weak minded little chick to be toyed with. He mentions that I have an accent, and this is funny to me since I think everyone here tawks funny. He correctly identifies it as "Californian" but scrubs it all when he says "Southern Californian." I let that slip and correct him. He gets all excited, introduces himself. Rudy. Just like the midget in that football movie by the same name.
He grins and politely asks me if it's cool if he gives me his number because he'd really like to take me to dinner. He has a piece of paper in hand already. Great. I said, "I am seriously attached and don't see other men." He says back, "It's all good, let me give it to you anyways, you might get unattached one of these days." Admirable. He scribbles his number and name on a freakin' bank deposit slip and thrusts it in my hand. I give him props for persistence and testicular fortitude (see Big Aiyah for that discussion). But that doesn't mean I'm going to holla.
"My name's Rudy. What's yours?"
Think fast, think fast, give out your club name. "My name is Jennifer."
He eyes me hard and if he was a wolf, he'd lick his chops. "You know who you remind me of?'
"Who?" I'm waiting to hear Margaret Cho (you know how I feel about that shit). Terilyn Joe. Some Asian someone. I'm bracing myself for the comparison which will no doubt rankle me.
"You remind me of Jennifer Lopez." He thinks this wins points. I smile and bite my tongue because I can feel the "It's my big ass, ain't it" tickling in my throat. I thank him graciously and say, I've got to split for a lunch date (that never comes, btw, that prick...can't trust guys named Rocky).
There's something to be said about men with the
huevos to ask a girl out or dish out the digits. Props. I don't know a lot of guys who do that - me thinks it's cool. I half wish men would step up more than they do now. I understand that girls need to step up too, but every now and then I'll do it. However, it's always nice to be stepped up to first.
Any girls in the Boston area lookin' for some lovin' (and look like Jennifer Lopez) holla at Rudy. He's ready for some lovin', but not from this chick.
617-536-2673.
hoolllllllllllaaaaaaaa,
Voodoo
Boston Public
[On the plane…]
I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but for some reason I had to stay up. I couldn’t sleep, nor was I sure if I really wanted to. I was already buzzin’ hard and just driving in from Berkeley where I left two of my students to do some work for their Pre-Med careers. I was very excited to see them, and even more excited to get on that plane to head out.
I had to go back to my office to grab some details I left undone, and also send out a letter to my boss’ boss that slipped my mind in my rush to get out of town. I also made sure to gaffle some things (some papers, some pens) so I would be set.
By the time I got home, I was tired. The buzz was failing me, and I could barely keep my eyes open. It was already 1 AM, and I still hadn’t packed. I thought, while I packed, I might as well watch this movie. At 3:30, I was throw with the movie (it didn’t grab me) and I said to myself I might as well go to sleep now and wake up in 45 minutes in order to get to the airport in time.
Needless to say, for those of you who know me best know that if I can’t bet here early, I will mot definitely be there late. That’s just the way it is, honies. Sucks to be the people who are waiting for me. I missed my alarm, I woke up at 5 instead of 4:30, and I had to race to SFO. I was nervous about getting stuck in the famous lines that greet people at the airport. I am going to wear slippers my next flight out. Having to take off my shoes twice in five feet is ridiculous, but hell, I understand.
I slept most of the morning, seeing as I only had an hour and a half of awake time. Luckily this isn’t a full flight. I move around like I need to do something. I mean, I do need to do something, but sitting still kills me.
[smelling like smoke, back in hotel room]
I have just gotten back from a night out with all my homies and honies. Pork Honey (who is even better in person) and someone who I haven't named yet came to pick me up at the airport. As usual I left them waiting. I'm terrible at that. They deposited me at the hotel, and returned a few hours later to scoop me up for dinner. We had another person to be named with me. I learned that sticky rice is really sticky, eating crab is difficult, and that San Francisco is not a place to take for granted. I miss the diversity, the culture, and the people already.
We went to Jillians, and I thought it was going to be like OUR Jillians, but it was more like Dave and Buster's, with the games, etc. If you have no idea what I'm looking for, and you want the links, shit, it's late, i'm tired, do the search on Google. Played pool, ping pong, and had a great time meeting new/old friends, and chatting up a storm. I would love to have spent more time. Life is nice like that.
At any rate, I have an early morning. I hope to get out and explore the city more, and hopefully find some new gems. They still smoke in bars, yuck. How wonderfully progressive of California.
Off to bed.
Voodoo
Get Outta Here
All I have to say is that I'm in my office, it's near midnight, and I'm slightly buzzed, and I gotta take care of some shit before I leave for Boston. Man, this trip better be the shit.
I'll be writing you next from Boston, so wish me luck. Me? Snow? Whoa.
Voodoo
Reunited and it feels so good
I heard from someone from my past. It's been maybe a year since I've heard from him, and I have to be honest with you, it's exciting. I was laying in bed one night when all of a sudden, I heard him calling...I shot up and smiled. Nice to know he's back in my life. I took a little walk tonight, told my parents about him being back, and they just laughed. Thanks.
I whistled at him. He whistled back... If you're wondering who I'm talking about, and why I'm in love, go back in time to the
archives, look for 4/18/2001 09:54:21 AM and witness who's come back to me. Nice to know he remembers.
Pack YOU!
I'm headed for Boston on Saturday (30 degrees, snowing like a bitch, I heard), and I have not even packed. I'm starting to think, maybe I should just go out there and buy things for myself. Honestly, I have NO fucking cluehow to dress. I think I'm screwed. If you have any ideas make sure to email me or leave a comment at the end of this post. At any rate, I am going for a conference, so work is payin' for the flight and hotel, and I'm chillin' on company time. I'm also going to just chill for a few days in town to be wit' Pork Honey, My Baby's Other Daddy, and whoever else will have me. At any rate, I'm up for a wee bit of fun. Even if it's fucking 30 degrees.
Can I just tell you how warm it's been up here? 68 degrees can't be wrong.
I'm off to pretend to pack. Catch you later.
Voodoo
