And You May Quote Me 18

Phantom fart is an alliteration!

Rolling Like Thunder

Just when phantom fart subsides, new fart is emitted, reaking like sewage.

Much like life.

Jolly 5

Just let me get through new year's and i'll be okay.

If God would've had a quarter every time a human said that, God's jar would be full by now.

And we all know God's jar is immense.

Closest Thing

Two nights ago i discovered Katie Melua. She is so frigging beautiful she takes my breath away. And what a voice!

I do this. I "discover" someone, obsess for a while, then move on.

But seriously there has not been beauty that moves me so but Sophie Marceau and Paula Marshall. Don't ask me why. The heart wants what the heart wants.

Cervical

In this photo, my neck looks freakishly long!

No wonder i feel alien.

"Eight Heavy Loads"

Mu sake. I've never seen this before. Very interesting, as mu means "none" or "nothingness".

Maybe i'll get a bottle. Maybe it'll help me get on the path to enlightenment.

Black Birds Have Spoken 6

All of a sudden i really miss someone tonguing me really hard until i can't take it any more and have to push his [bald] head away.

: )

Snippet 35

JD:
(On my weight)
You should be down to 76 in no time now!

V:
I haven't been able to achieve my previous low, if you must know. Oh! That rhymed! (Laughs)

Quote 71

Then you walked right into my darkness and
you speak words so sweet
You hold me like a child
till my frozen tears fall at your feet

- "Broken Things", Julie Miller

Dead Cells, Live Flesh

The price i paid for savoring tamales at lunch. Two!! Homemade! (Not my home, that's for sure! LOL...) Long story...

When i had to cut off my broken nail, i traumatized the bed, and a bead of blood seeped through the crack. Like a bright red balloon being inflated. It was kinda cool!

If the tamales weren't worth it, the Tapatío certainly was! : D

And now, having viewed the montage above, i am craving cocktail sauce...

Tissue Issue

Sitting on the head at work this morning, I found myself thinking, "The longitudinal grain sure isn't conducive to tearing!" Regarding, of course, the giant roll of toilet paper.

Wow. Again, i am a nerd.

I Need a Topographical Map!

Yesterday Derek I opened a card from Mr. Mansfield*, a former customer who retired a few months ago and moved out of state. It read:

Greetings from the Blue Ridge Mountains!
Don't miss California
But I miss my friend Derek

"Aww..." I half-joked with the guys. "That brings a tear to my eye!"

Nobody needs to know i'm a softie. I was moved. I remember Mr. Mansfield. He was a sweet man.

NC happens to be where Taylor is right now. What are the chances?

Actually, one might argue that the chances are not worse than 1/50 x 1/50 = 1/2,500 = 0.04%! LOL


*Not his real name

Vignette 6

On Christmas day, over lunch with my brother W, a remake of "Time After Time" came on the radio. Some girl who sounded really bubbly.

"Who is this?" Asked W.

"No clue," I shook my head. "Again, nothing beats the original." Referring to a previous discussion we'd had on the dozens of covers and versions of "Last Christmas" by Wham!

"There are exceptions," said W.

"Such as?" I asked.

W pondered for a moment. "Whitney..." He frowned, deep in thought. "Aah... What's that one called?"

I knew immediately he meant "I'll Always Love You".

"True, true," i concurred. "I did not enjoy the Dolly Parton version."

We decided that there was such a thing as "too country".

"I don't hate country as a genre," i said. "There are country songs i like... if the melody and the rendition is right."

"Name something," said W.

"I like Carrie Underwood," i said. "The first album anyway. It's not your typical country delivery."

W was skeptical.

"It's in the delivery, right?" I continued. "Recently i heard this one Christmas song by Dolly Parton, and it was refreshing. Her voice is quite nice." I couldn't remember the title "Hard Candy Christmas".

W was in accord. "Then there are the lyrics," W went on. "They're always much of the same."

"I know!" I exclaimed.

"Don't take my man," ventured W. "Don't take my cattle..."

I chuckled. "More like," i said. "Take my man but leave the cattle."

We cackled for like 50 seconds straight. W laughed so hard he turned red and teared up. I love when that happens.

Pedal Paradise

I love my lavender socks. They are SO-O-O-O soft. How's that humanly possible??! It's like walking on silk puffs! Even though in reality it's 67% polyester, 32% nylon, and 1% spandex, exclusive of elastic. Takes the romance right out of the revery, doesn't it.

And i happen to know the fiber composition by digging in the trash for the tag. Inquisitive minds want to know after one has been been squishing around on soles of heaven!

And they go perfectly with my lavender t-shirt, not pictured. Sometimes life is near perfect, indeed. The keyword probably being "proximity".

Fly Me

When i was young i read a sci-fi novel in which an alien who is a notorious abomination of a criminal absconds from his/her (there is no such thing as gender) planet. Assuming the human form on earth, he/she attempts to score a meal ticket by reading someone's mind and becoming their ideal mate.

The alien succeeds. A man falls head over heels for her. Of course! She's beautiful, a lady and a slut all at once. Any man would be putty. Soon, however, the alien has an epiphany about the strange concept of love previously unbeknownst to her. How can one be so unconditionally devoted to another, forsaking all others, willing to give his all??! To her bewilderment, she softens, experiences remorse for her callous past, and reciprocates selfless love. Eventually with death.

That must've been one of the most romantic stories ever written. I think back and i'm still moved.

I relate to the alien.

The fateful night the alien wins the earthbound man's heart, she's wearing a silk blouse in the color of the moon, rendering her a vulnerable damsel.

Which is why i have a weakness for silk tops in the color of the moon.

Thanks to Facebook...

Now i say stuff like:

Last night i spent half an hour trying to SuperPoke you

A Case of Mistaken Identity 3

When i spotted this bulk pack @ Costco today, i read "Long Tongues". The product instantly caught my attention.

Tells you where my mind is. : )

Bedroom Eyes

Yesterday i engaged in boudoir photography. I must admit i have a knack for it. I'm so proud of my work, i wish it wasn't objectionable on most sites. As i told JD, "Now i have all these nudie pictures of me and no one to send them to!" Shame, some shots would've made really nice holiday cards.

My incentive for the session was two-fold:

1. I am a closet exhibitionist.
2. It's my way of saying: Hey, i have a tripod! I don't need a man! : )

Quote 70

Give me reason but
Don't give me choice

- "Same Mistake", All the Lost Souls, James Blunt

Rinse & Repeat

I feel pretty good about myself again.

And now i must go on dates again. So i can feel like a turd again. : )

Snippet 34

V:
Ah, shit, i'm gonna be out of Absolut Vanilia!

JD:
Jesus Christ! You have an arsenal of liquor!

V:
Yeah, but when you know there's only one thing you want, nothing else will do. There's no substitution.

[Pause]

You know, kinda like love.

Merrily 2

The majority of my Christmas cards are square this yuletide.

Maybe it's because... i'm square. : P

Urgency

If i don't do a load of laundry tomorrow, i'm gonna run out of black socks.

Shit, i sound like a man!

If i would've had a quarter every time i heard that, i would've had... $2.25 by now.

Narcissus

Man, i have pretty lips.

Even with the gloss half worn off so that there is only a hint of hue and glitter, they are like dewy petals... or satin cushions.

They are so inviting, even i have an urge to kiss them.

As Told to JD 7 Days Ago*

To be shunned
is not fun.
Oh, that rhymes!


*This is an approximation

Jolly 4

Last night, at my second company holiday bash, Belinda*, my coworker who just turned 21 in May, who still lives in la-la land and was intrigued by my worldliness, asked me, “Who kind of guys do you like?”

I shot off my knee-jerk reaction since i was too tired and apathetic to lie, “White?” and cackled. Luckily Belinda, Japanese and Caucasian and Peruvian, related, and cackled with me. Have i mentioned my utopia? : )

Later in the night, to answer Belinda’s question, i made a spontaneous list, uncensored:

- White
- Into me
- Good in bed
- Intelligent
- Funny
- Not stingy with money

In that order, i thought. And i laughed inside.

Funny how compatibility was not indicated at all. I think it’s because from point #3 onwards, it’s implied.

And then i added:

- Taller than me
- Not skinnier than me

There. It’s completed. That’s all i need. Really.

Santa, you got one of those in your red velvety bag? May i peek?


*Not her real name

Tribute

Tonight i had caviar, the American Sevruga, malossol. Malossol is Russian for "little salt". Love when one language resonates another.

By the way, Caviar is a brand. Who knew? Without it, we'd be saying "salted fish roe" all the time! And how cumbersome would that be?!

I gingerly opened the vial. Quite frankly, the unsightly grey nodules repulsed me. I mean they'd be Quasimoto in the presence of the Esmeralda that is tobiko. But i was determined in the undertaking.

I recall the night i made the purchase. The clerk, who couldn't have been more than 22, grinned and asked, "So... is this stuff any good?"

"You know," i replied. "It's been almost two decades since i last had it. I've decided it was time to see if i would like it today."

The kid's smile froze. Not a response he was expecting, ay.

Indeed the first and last time i had caviar, i was at the ripe age of 18, visiting my uncle, my mother's baby brother, in Belgium. Who within a few years would die of liver cancer before turning 45. But we all thought he was healthy as an ox back then. No matter his beer gut, frequent whoring, and a wife who was in and out of mental institutions. Sure, everything was looking fine.

And tonight, i decide that i love caviar. Just like i did back then.

It's seafood! It's raw! It tastes like minerals. What's not to like?!??

Now, i know that you're probably not supposed to have these babies in a soy sauce dish, sans sophisticated crackers. But scooping is SO much more fun!

And i'm grateful that my wild uncle, whom i barely knew as a person, introduced me to this strange delicacy. He and i would've had some fun chats today. That much i'm sure of. Sometimes mitochondria are the most special gift you could share with someone.

Absence 2

I just stumbled across a random blog by clicking on "Next Blog" after viewing mine, just outta curiosity. On it is a post on suffering titled "You Are Not Alone". It was like a sign or something. Reading it helped. Shifting focus off my self helped.

I guess there are reasons not to be sad, too, if we will just look.

As Told to Denisse

I'm having hot water with honey. I used to have it as a kid. It makes me feel like i'm being good to myself. And thank goodness my toes are finally warming up! It's the small things that matter in life.

Absence

As i sat at my computer like i have many nights before, sipping grape juice (no, that is not euphemism. It really is just grape juice), i felt sad again i don’t hear from Taylor any more.

Taylor once said there are always reasons to be sad if we look for them. But i honestly feel reasons come and find me.

Just a couple of weeks ago Taylor still wanted to see me, with an offering of wine. Not just any wine, “a strange bottle o’ wine”, followed by a smiley.

And then no more texting... no more IM-ing. He is nowhere in my realm. On his myspace page he still has up the status “Taylor Completely and totally lost.” Well, he certainly is that to me.

I’ll be honest about my selfishness. I miss the attention. Plain and simple. Even though i didn’t think the attention would last, i was ill-prepared for the abrupt cessation.

Last time i heard from Taylor, he’d “been having some drama”. I didn’t want to know, as to me “drama” usually means “girl trouble”. And obviously i am not that girl.

I haven’t been that girl in a while.

Tonight i find myself wondering: If someone doesn’t initiate contact any more, isn’t it safe to bet they want to be left alone?

Taylor wants to be left alone. By me. And so leave him alone i shall.

And this thought leaves me very – have i mentioned? – sad.

Grey Matter

Last night my pen-pal Libby reminded me that she loves reading my posts.

"You always make me think," she wrote.

I thanked her for what i thought was a high compliment. For if i'm thought-provoking, it's only because i'm provoked. All the time. : )

Snippet 33

JD:
I only drink beer now. No wine. No liquor.

V:
It doesn't matter the vehicle. Only the destination.

Stumped Strum 2

Last Saturday, when i took my guitar to Salvation Army, the rear drop-off site was desolate. The sign said they were out to lunch. With a smiley.

So i just left my guitar there. As i walked away, i wondered if my pick was inside the carrier. It's okay, i thought. Guitar studios give away picks like Chinese restaurants give away toothpicks.

Black Birds Have Spoken 5

Nothing dampens my mood more in the morning than my inability to shit.

And You May Quote Me 17

An ex doesn't care if you're having Sangiovese.

Jolly 3

A handful of my oldest friends still send Christmas cards. Physical cards. By snail mail. What can i say. Old friends are old school. God bless their hearts.

Today i get one from my best friend IA. Enclosed was a Uniqlo tee (cool! Except i guess she didn't know i hate brown...) and a Christmas portrait of her family of four. First ever. Taken at an official studio. They are beaming. In their schematic, preppy outfits.

"Ohhhh... Not you too!" I lamented in my head. I mean, IA and her husband are amongst the coolest people i know. I literally felt stabbed. But i have to give 'em credit for going against tradition by opting for grey attire.

I proceeded to read the card. It's Hallmark, but it's Fresh Ink. Instant redemption.

The outside said:

Quiet winter
Hush my soul

Aww... How did she know the dark wish of my tormented being?

Then i opened it. And it said:

Remind me of what matters most

And there's where i was lost. Again.

Quote 69

Life is not about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.

- George Bernard Shaw

I Wish I Wasn't...

...so hung up on words

I wish i wasn't so hung up on words that trigger fond memories.

I wish i wasn't so hung up on fond memories

I wish i wasn't so hung up on memory.

Jolly 2

I've got what i call a Hitler zit. No elaboration is necessary, i'm sure. The timing is impeccable. You see, the district holiday bash is tomorrow. Matt might be there. Just fucking awesome.

The vanity to want to look good when running into an ex is not uncommon. [Even though technically, Matt is not exactly an ex.] You want them to feel stupid for having let you go. Even though you are the one who is stupid for not letting go.

I have pained over what to wear. There are gonna be people there. And let's face it, it's strangers' opinions that count the most.

Today rumor has it that, in the name of holiday cheer, the district supervisors are gonna send us pawns on a scavenger hunt all day. No standing idly around a bowl of spiked punch in a warm hall, i gather. We were told to dress casual and wear comfortable shoes. How festive. Back in the closet you go, my little red satin tie-back halter top.

Quote 68

sometimes, your silence is so loud.

- b.wing, We All Need Someone To Kiss Us Goodbye

Snippet 32

V:
I was so depressed there for a while, feeling alone and discarded.

JD:
Like a tissue on the pavement?... Of life?

V:
Only if someone has wiped their ass with it.

The Deep Stuff I Aspired To Write About

Last night, at 8:50 p.m., a studious Denisse, menu in hand, informed me it was 10 minutes till "late happy hour".

Damn it, just when i was about to order Disarrono on the rocks to chase my raspberry martini (yes, kinda gross, i agree).

30 seconds later, i joked, "Is it nine o'clock yet?" Denisse laughed.

I repeated the question at 8:55 p.m.

8:57 p.m.
I told Denisse, "Seriously, the discount may not be worth the 3-minute wait."

Penang Ta-Lay

Ta-lay is Thai for seafood. Penang is, of course, this rich, complexly flavorful sauce that transcends me (when done right). As told to Denisse: You could have cardboard with this sauce, and it would be pretty good.

Unsevered

Prior to yesterday, i did not know Brussels sprouts grew on stems. So, ok, i'm an urban gal. But i sure know how to cook 'em good!

Salad of "Chard of Many Colors" from Trader Joe's

Gotta love a vegetable in lavender and crimson

The Greeting

On Wednesday i arrived at work to find Post-it notes spread out on my desk. It took bewildered me a second or two to read what they spelled out. When i did, i knew it was arranged by Derek II, who's like my only friend these days. I grinned.

I told the manager who happened to be in my office, "It's like coming to work in the morning and finding crop circles!"

Reclusive

After weeks and weeks (and weeks) of having been a homebody, today is the day i will actually leave the house and be out and about. Somewhat reluctantly, i'll admit.

(Last night i made my lazy deviled egg, and didn't even bother to slice the egg. OMG. That's when you know you have gone too far with isolation. What's next? Picking lice off the hair and popping 'em in my mouth? [I don't have lice. Yet.])

As you may have noticed, my entries are growing short. There was a time when i couldn't go under 1,000 words. And i fear my verbiage has become bland. Without life experiences, a writer is reduced to a shell. A cracked one at that.

Since my blog has to be interesting, i guess i'll go out. Seems backwards.

Stumped Strum

I have decided to donate my guitar. A year ago i played it for, like, a month. And it has since then been sitting by my full-length mirror. Untouched, sad, and lonely.

I've been putting off the decision. I could sell it on eBay, but that is just too much work. And i'm afraid i'll regret getting rid of it. Actually, i'm almost certain i will have regrets. Which is why i should give it away anyway. That way, someone will use this instrument and enjoy it.

Donation would by my good deed of the day. 'Sides, this will give room to my new shoes.

Snippet 31

V:
There are things i miss about dating, you know.

JD:
Dating me or dating in general?

V:
In general. Like dining out. When i used to eat.

Quote 67

The swiftness of your leaving caught me by surprise...

Simple things
But they affect the way the world swings

- "No Good in this Goodbye", Season of the Hurricane, Juliet Turner

Winter Benediction 2

Snippet 30

JD:
This girl says she's 5'6" and 127 lb. I don't think she is. I think she's fat.

V:
Why do you think she's fat?

JD:
I just think... her body is... like, fat!

Stripped

I find myself
Bare. Wrapped
in a cocoon of imperfect silk, all around and
over and
Over
Impermeable to the world

Snippet 29

Derek II:
I think your charcoal grey pants make you look really thin. I saw you walk by and i was like, "She's really thin!"

V:
I think it's in my sashay.

Wet

It's been raining all day.

I love the sound of tires across soaked pavement at night.

I think it's the knowledge of someone out heading somewhere that's comforting.

Why We Eat By the Kitchen Sink

One burns more calories standing than sitting.

Freakishly Huge Pacific Oyster

Eaten-from spoon placed awkwardly to show scale. The fat sucker looks like it's been shot, execution-style, thrice. This is a sloppy picture in every sense. But i was hungry. Oh, and did i mention... Yum!!!!!

Winter Benediction

Bounce

When I feel like a good person,
the world seems a better place.

Because only when you believe
in the good in yourself
Then you can believe in
the good in the world.

Snippet 28

Taylor:
One is never "outside" the illusion. One can only see it for what it is.

V:
...

Taylor:
Don't listen to me. Listen to your heart.

V:
My heart is a liar.

Soliloquy 2

This evening i read the profile of someone who contacted me, and came across this line:

I'm not overly pretentious or obsequious...

Here's my reaction:

1. So... does this mean you're a little pretentious?
2. If you use "obsequious" in your profile, you're probably pretentious. : )

Lucent

In the past couple of days depression has struck hard. We're talking a freaking abyss. (In case you couldn't tell from my Friday posts. LOL.)

This evening, as nothing brought me joy, i suddenly decided it was time to bring my snowflake tealight holder out of storage. After all, it's been freezing. Every morning as i put my hands on the steering wheel i think to myself, "I need gloves!"

There is just something about flickering light. It is simply mesmerizing. I can scarcely bring myself to watch TV or a movie on DVD any more, but flickering light? Hell, bring it on! This is how the Neanderthal passed time, right?

The tealight not only gets filtered through the translucent holder, it is reflected on the mirrored inner wall, and my vase and the irisdescent pebbles in it.

So pretty. Never a dull moment. I can't rationalize the correlation, but now i feel permitted to recall summer nights and deem them prettier. And yet feel where i am is where i truly belong. And I'm not so sad any more.

Funny what changes our mood. One just never knows.

Alter-scape

This morning, in my dream, before a journey of obligation, my Dad hands me a pair of fuschia fuzzy slippers that are totally oversized (talk about Freudian! Cinderella's glass slippers were really made of fur - lost in translation).

I look inside and find numerous pieces of a broken automobile headlight (of my vehicle, i suspect). After painstakingly removing the shards, i slip my feet in the inviting softness. The slippers are so huge that my feet practically swim in them.

With them on, i travel down the dim and seemingly endless hallway at the hotel i'm staying at, in search of my new girlfriend whom i met 3 days ago. Once again i am relieved i turned out to be a lesbian.

I have to find her fast, before i lose her.

But i can't remember her name...

No Caption Necessary... Almost 7

Pepperjack Melt and Egg with Oregano

Deep Thoughts (Not By Jack Handey) 12

I recently wrote that I found my neck long and graceful. Since then i have thought it is avian at best.

And You May Quote Me 16

There is no more poetry in my soul.

Impertinence

You would think this was in reference to me - a sign i'd be wearing, perhaps. But no, it's just a box of toilet seat covers sitting on the floor.

Non-Scents-ical

Disney makes a Buzz Lightyear fragrance set that contains a 1.7 oz. eau de toilette spray and a metal lunchbox. WTF?

I wonder if the scent is citrusy and flirtatious, or musky and sensual.

No, Timmy, you won't be beaten up in the sandbox. Really, Mommy promises!

Goodwill

This morning i returned to work to find a note on my desk left by Matt who happened to have stopped by during my vacation. Just to say hi. And to hope things have been well.

Matt. That is certainly an unexpected blast from the past.

I wondered if he knew i was on leave. But it doesn't matter, does it.

I wrote back thanking Matt for the note. After all, it was a pleasant surprise and a spirit-booster on the first day back to work. And I wished him well, sincerely yet platonically. And had it hand-delivered in an intracompany envelope. How romantic.

Matt's note restored my faith in the goodness of mankind and left me with a tinge of sadness at the same time. It is almost Christmas again. To think that last Christmas we sang "Santa Baby" at the company bash, The Pussycat Dolls version, complete with can-can kicks. Within a month, he asked me out.

In the evening i found myself singing verses from the ridiculous tune. Like a whimper.

At Long Last

On Monday night i stepped on American soil again. I was giddy.

The immigration officer couldn't be friendlier. In fact, dare i say it was the most pleasant re-entry to date.

He asked me if i had "bird's nest" in my luggage. I laughed out loud.

At the end, he said, "Welcome home!"

Grinning from ear to ear, i thanked him, unable to hide delight.

I am home, indeed. It is good to be home.

Inarticulatable

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Today, for the first time in my life, i find myself pretty.

Not attractive, or sexy, or hot, but pretty. Genuinely, positively, without-a-doubt, pretty.

As in my face. How light bounces off the planes and illuminates the edges.
How my teary wide eyes seemingly sparkle with untold stories.
How my grown-out bangs brush over the corners of my eyes and grace my cheekbones, turning me mischievous and mysterious all at once.
My heart-shaped face. A defiant teardrop flowing up. My cute dumpling of a chin you just wanna chuck.
How my big, contentful head sits on my long, graceful neck.
The aerodynamic outline of my mouth, always suggesting a longing to speak, to kiss, or to munch.

How my otherwise quirky features fit together just perfectly.

I wouldn't change a thing. Not even my quasi frown.

Quote 66

With imminent death,
one's utterance is but kind.

- Chinese Proverb

Transience

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Today i met a young man who was part Portuguese and part East Indian. He was cute as a button.

(In the futuristic world i envision, everyone is ethnically and culturally diverse. Course, you don't have to be ethnically diverse to be culturally diverse. That is my utopia.)

And this young man and my bro share the same alma mater. In addition, he speaks with a British accent as he lived in London for 5 years. How adorable is he?!? (Did i mention London is on the top of my list of places to visit before i die? Come to think of it, it's the only place on my list in a while.)

His jaw dropped when he learned that i spoke Farsi.

"My Dad is the only person I know who speaks Farsi!" He exclaimed.

"Don't be too impressed," i said. "My fluency is probably the equivalent of a six-year-old's."

"Like my Cantonese!" He said. We laughed in camaraderie.

Minutes later, he put me on his cell with his Dad, who had a perfect accent and intonation, as i have been told myself. He reminded me of my ex father-in-law with whom i hadn't spoken in years. Heck, i hadn't spoken Farsi in years. But i speak it in my head all the time. After all, you don't just forget your third language.

And yet i totally froze beyond the honorific "How do you do?". My mind completely blanked out. I couldn't even utter "It is my honor to have made your acquaintance." Lines i had memorized like a frigging script. Like the prayers i learned in Catholic school. Nothing. I couldn't even remember how to say goodbye.

Perhaps there is something poetic about not knowing how to say goodbye.

Late at night, after i'd replayed the scene in my head and had a moment to reflect, the words all came back to me like raindrops finally hitting the arid ground after having magically paused midair in a sci-fi moment.

I never thought i'd choke when required to speak Farsi again. It just never occurred to me. Who am i now? How special can i be if not pointlessly trilingual??

Deprivation

Day 5.

True to my forecast, i have not been getting my daily dose of internet access. And as i recently mentioned, neither have i been getting my daily allowance of vintage.

If not for the mellowing effects of the allergy meds i'm on, i'm pretty sure i'd be antsy as hell.

I've been contemplating: If i had to pick just one ration to tie me over till Day 12, i'd pick blogging, forgoing induced merriment. Without writing, i feel incomplete, adrift and scarcely alive.

Maybe i am not as irredeemable as i previously thought.

Irrelevance

According to a study with MRI's by anthropologist Helen E. Fisher, Ph.D. at Rutger University, antidepressants may severely interfere with one's sense of love by driving down dopamine, the chemical associated with romantic feelings.

The research team has since been inundated with correspondence that confirms their findings. One man who had been enamored with his girlfriend for three years allegedly fell out of love after getting on Prozac. Once he stopped taking the medication, his love for her returned.

Ms. Turner had it right. What's love... but a secondhand emotion?

Cessation

I took off from my continent late Tuesday night and arrived on my parents' bright and early on Thursday their time. It is now Saturday afternoon in the Eastern Hemisphere. I still haven't taken a shit. I am genuinely concerned. I might get fecal poisoning!

I guess i so don't wanna be here that even my poo refuses to land!

Course, i don't deny the other attribute of having gone cold turkey on alcoholic consumption. I mean, they don't call it "going dry" for nothing.

Gobbled

While reading my favorite magazine recently, i came across the classic question this time of year:

This Thanksgiving, what are you most grateful for?

My answer:
1. That i don't have to wait for Thanksgiving to be grateful.
2. That i don't have to be grateful. Period.

Jet Set...

Preparing for my trip. Have to have my cute journal (not pictured) on me as i won't have internet access at all times. *Sigh*. And that's only ONE reason i'm dreading this trip. Can you tell i'm electronically dependent? And this is only a subset.

That's a long-term parking permit under there. I'd show it to ya but then i'd hafta kill ya. : )

And You May Quote Me 15

Nothing that we think matters really matters. And that's all that matters.

No Caption Necessary... Almost 6

"Instant" Deviled Eggs.

It may not be the most visually enticing thing as presentation is not my forte : ) But trust me they will do. I mean who needs to carefully spoon out the yolk and mash it... It's all gonna wind up tasting the same! [That's sophisticated me talkin'.] All you need besides the obvious hard-boiled eggs:

- Kraft Miracle Whip
- Dijon mustard
- Salt
- Paprika (or, in my case, chili powder. Cuz when it comes to heat, bring it on, baby!!!)

Snippet 27

(July 29, 2007, the day of the Kite Festival in Berkeley)

Taylor:
It's such a beautiful day to be lonely. : )

V:
It's ok to be lonely, knowing you're not alone.

Quote 65

I am letting life flow over me like a garbage truck running over a pile of dung.

- Taylor, November 10, 2007

Wallower 2

I eliminated the moiré effect!!!!! Woohoo!!!

Tell me i'm not decent human being...

Projection

I just noticed that today is 11/11. In the year 2011 i'm definitely gonna make a remark.

If i live that long.

Advice 2

Once again i respond to previously paraphrased statement that it is in a woman's interest to always wear sexy nighties: Ha!

Melt

On Wednesday i told Taylor i'd bought way too much food the previous weekend cuz i was in denial i was taking a two-week leave to visit my parents.

"When you leaving?" Typed Taylor.

"Tue night," i replied.

"I may never see you again!" Exclaimed Taylor.

"Oh if my plane crashes you mean?" Was my natural response.

You see, i ponder that possibility every time i fly. I wasn't being snide.

"Just will be weeks and weeks," wrote Taylor. "Seems like forever."

Aww...

i'm such a sucka.

Later i mentioned that i'd like to see Ang Lee's new film Lust, Caution "before my plane crashes on Tuesday".

Taylor said he guaranteed my plane would not crash. And he knew this because he was a pretty lucky person in general.

"And i would like to see you again," he wrote. "And i usually get what i want."

"See"... "Fuck"... It's all semantics.

But i obviously don't seem to mind, since we are now planning to meet on Monday night. See, I thought about it long and hard today (as i was shaving my p***y, may i add): I'd be totally kicking myself, if my plane was to crash in 3 days, and i didn't get to do it one last time.

Yes, hit me baby one more time, before i ship out.

Course, if Taylor gets his wish, the crash-free guarantee is lifted. Hmm, lemme weigh the pros and cons... Get laid, and die, or live with celibacy. Hmm... This is a toughie.

Best Invention of the Century

Two-part martini glass to keep your poison chilled. No more racing with time to chug it before it gets warm. Premature drunken assness be gone!!!!!

Quote 64

It's terrible... Just wanna do my own thing... but then i'll just feel lonely... Good God just never satisfied!

- Denisse

Exempt

This morning, heading out with my laundry basket, a stranger standing RIGHT OUTSIDE my door totally startled me. I just kinda stared at her like a deer in headlights, dumbfounded.

She was all smiles and asked me how i was doing. I gave the standard answer. I'm sure "whaddaya want?" was written all over my face and in my voice.

Another woman and a little girl were in the party. The girl looked fearful. They were all holding what i assumed was The Scripture. And pamphlets and such.

"Uh oh," i thought.

I quickly closed the door behind me lest the lady, whom i towered over, force her way in.

"We are looking for Spanish-speaking residents," said the lady. "Do you know any neighbors who are Spanish-speaking?"

"I don't know any of my neighbors," i replied with a cynical smile, and felt satisfaction.

Call me Ebenezer*.


*The name incidentally means "stone of help"! How clever of Dickens...

Chocolate Jones

A few weeks ago i bought a variety pack of Ghirardelli Squares, the Dark Collection. (Mmmm...) The other weekend, when Cindy's fam were in town and they stopped by my place in the evening, i passed the bag around.

Take one down
Pass it around
98 Ghirardelli Squares on the wall...

- kept playing in my head. : )

Caramel was sought after by everyone. Trent*, Denisse's bro, peeked inside the bag and made a discovery.

"It's all raspberry!" Proclaimed Trent. He cackled.

"What?!?" Denisse responded in disbelief (and perhaps disgust, too), and grabbed the bag for inspection. "What the..."

"Must be the least popular flavor," I conjectured in a mellow tone. Then it was my turn to scrutinize the source of offense. It did appear that 90% of the squares were in pink wrappers. Dismay was in the air. Nobody spoke.

A couple of days later, i came home craving caramel. So i sat down on my couch with my Ghirardelli in natural light. When searching for the 60% cacao variety, i didn't see any.

Wait, what color is it even?

Turned out those were in red. And red sure looks a hell of a lot like pink in twilight. Kind of a packaging design faux pas if you ask me.

I wrote to Denisse:

Our assessment of the contents of the Ghirardelli variety pack was erroneous!!!

Then i read it and thought, "Sheet... This is the way i write?! I am such a dork!!"


*Not his real name

Wallower

The preview of my new profile picture has a moiré effect to it. But if you view the actual pic, it is fine.

For about 10 hours i felt i should know how to fix it, and was annoyed that i didn't.

Then i realized it was another lesson about life.

It Is Wrong When...

... as you get ready to work in the morning, the meteorologist announces that it is currently "partly starry".

On the Side Panel...

... of my box of Smoked Jalapeño Sourdough Crisps

I wish this applied to life.

Shrinkage 3

Today i had to head over to the district office for a day-long meeting. I arrived early, as usual.

As soon as i walked in, Dora*, one of the superviors in the region, remarked that i had lost weight. I confirmed.

"It's a lot, huh?" Said Dora. "I can really see it." And she gestured her own face.

Someone asked how much i had lost. Luckily Dora and Mildred my supervisor simultaneously asked in all keenness, "How do you do it?!"

I was quite self-conscious about being put on the spot. "I just..." i replied hesitantly. "Eat... less."

Then i laughed nervously, afraid to have offended someone. You never know. Someone might interpret that as "I'm just not a pig like you!"

Bewilderment ensued as everyone reacted. Amidst, Mildred looked me in the eye, almost sternly, and raised the question, "Why'd you do it?"

Thankfully someone talked over her in the wildfire of a discussion. I pretended not to have heard my boss and scurried away to get coffee.

I suck at impromptu lies. I would've come up with nothing but "Cuz i've been utterly depressed, and i kinda overdid it and turned anorexic?"

Would've been hilarious, now that i think about it.


*Not her real name

Deep Thoughts (Not By Jack Handey) 11

I think maybe i should blog less and live more. Like, talk to a live human being. With my real voice. (As opposed to fiddling with the keyboard, NOT as opposed to with my fake voice.)

Slot

There should be an option when you view a Blogger page to "show only posts with photos". Like with those online profiles. You know, for folks who don't like books with no pictures. : )

Signs Are Everywhere If You Look

With my last entry i now have 666 posts. How appropriate!

Sage 3

Two things i used to say about sex:

1. Life is short. Have sex often. After all, there are only so many carnal pleasures.

2. If you can't have love, have sex. Close enough.

I don't believe what i said any more. Sex is pointless. As life is pointless. And insignificant.

And so sadness is, too, insignificant. Therefore being sad is not sad. It means nothing.

Casting away a preexisting belief system certainly obliterates one's sense of identity. But then, perhaps we relinquish ideas in order to be truer to our core... which we may not even recognize.

So it's possible i never believed in the aforementioned bullets. I just believed that i believed.

What do i know? I used to say "Eat, drink, and be merry" too. Now i look below my chest and see the outline of my sternum. And i'm definitely not merry these days.

Well, at least i still drink. That's one consistency.

Introspection

I do things in lieu of living life.

(In reference to looking up marinated calamari recipes the night of November 2, after opting to flake on wharfing with Denisse the next day.)

Absurdity

I get unsought attention on myspace at times. Which is why i have turned my profile private recently.

The last message i got from a stranger was: You are very pretty.

Not to be a snob or anything, but if that's all that a person has got to say, i roll my eyes.

Which i did.

Weeks later. Today. I suddenly found myself thinking, "You know what? I should reply!"

And I would write:

Yes, i am.

One

My iridescent pebbles make me happy. (It's like gazing into contiguous yet integral universes.)

I knew they would when i first laid eyes on them. Some things you can count on in life.

Maybe someday i'll actually plop a lone flower in this vase. (No subliminal message there!)

Advice

I read in a women's magazine some years ago that one should always sleep in sexy little nothings (or, better yet, in the nude) just in case one gets rescued by a handsome (single) firefighter in the middle of the night.

To that i say, "Ha!"

Nonsensical

I've been wearing pink underwear all week (not the same pair - LOL!)

... cuz i feel vulnerable. Any other color would be a lie.

Hit

Last night, right after i orgasmed, Taylor came to mind, taking me by surprise.

The thought of his diligence overcame me. And i cried.

How to Save a Life

This morning, after stating on myspace that life was pointless, i saw that my friend Maverick had written. She was her cute self and made me smile. All of a sudden i was glad i was not dead yet.

The Cutest Thing

Tiny Polish shot glass that rolls around on a spheric base. Look, Ma! No spills!

Wanted

On my way into Crate & Barrel, I was right behind this older couple with silver hair. He opened the door for her.

As they idly chatted, he caressed her back continually, perhaps subconsciously, as if they were the only people in the room. There was affection in the touch and lust in the motion.

They may have been married for 45 years. Or maybe they just met last week and are having a whirlwind affair. It does not matter. The manifestation of desire choked me up.

Are We There Yet?

Denisse informs me this morning that her grandma, who's visiting for the weekend, has been getting on her nerves.

"She's so particular and whiny about shit it's annoying," writes Denisse. "She's like a child!"

I wrote back:

It is VERY true older folks become childlike again. It's like completing the cycle.

What i wanted to add but didn't:

And being buried under dirt is like returning to the womb.

Quote 63

No manure, no magic!

- Albert, i heart huckabees

Skipped

Two years ago i picked these up at a state beach somewhere north of Half Moon Bay. They were for my Dad, the nature enthusiast. I still haven't seen him.

No Caption Necessary... Almost 5

My 1st attempt at making an omelette. My omelette is broken - it is bleeding tomatoes.

Reisling-Soaked

Last night a bug fell in my half-full glass. (See? I'm an optimist.)

Fearful i would ingest the critter, i scooped it up with one finger and left it clinging on the inside wall of the stemware.

Seconds later, the mutha came alive! And proceeded to crawl upwards.

When i was ready to wash my vessel, i flicked the creature, and it landed in the sink. Once again it proceeded to crawl upwards. I did not want to blatantly drown it, so i left it alone.

This morning, i found the bug on my kitchen counter, all dried up. Dead.

I relate to the bug.

Food For Thought 6

@ Quizno's, on the Tuscan Turkey on Rosemary Parmesan, the Swiss is melt.

Taylor has commented that, in my writing, i have "a cool way of merging description with life".

Maybe that's why I can't have pepperjack straight out of the fridge any more.

I don't WRITE well.

I FEEL in excess.

Snippet 26

JD:
I hope you've been using my convection oven.

V:
I think i'm making toast with it this weekend, , cuz i need to eat my duck pâté before it rots.

I'm Old Enough to Know That

When they say they're trying to break patterns
One of the patterns is you

And when they say maybe they're not ready to settle down
They don't want to settle down with you

Cuz you're not right

Cuz i'm not right

I'm not right
I'm not right...
in the head

Stricken

There was this young woman of East Indian decent, recently widowed at the time, in one of the groups i used to go to for therapy.

She couldn't have been more than 23. She was bright-eyed, well-groomed, had pretty features. Collected. Until she would start to speak. Then she would break down and cry.

I wonder how she is doing tonight.

Quote 62

... 誰又被傷了心
卻還不清醒

一定不是我

- "聽海", 張惠妹

Bleakness

All of a sudden i wanna bake a pineapple upside down cake. Complete with maraschino cherries.

The thought of the scent filling my studio apartment cheers me up a little.

Sometimes all i need is ONE thing to live for.

Gen X Where Forth Art Thou?

@ 5:24 a.m. it hit me that last night i typed the words "I'm sorry it didn't work out between you and me Taylor".

Knowing it was one thing. Acknowledging it was something else.

As long as we were still seeing each other, there was hope. There was that one [ancient] claim once IM'd: "It could still work."

Knowing me, i feel a tinge of sadness.

No hope. No expectations. No disappointment.

That's been my mantra lately. Just not the easiest thing to put to practice.

You see, it's not Taylor i need to get over. It's myself.

As Denisse would attest and as i have recently written, on the online dating sites you get attention from older men. Much older men. I mean you should see the age range these men enter! One wouldn't even date women his own age!

In other arenas it's been the other extreme for me (yeah, smaller numbers - not to be disclosed):

1. Bellevue, Washington (Oooh across the bay from Seattle!)
2. Crawfordsville, 48.80 mi. from Indianapolis
3. Close to home

As a matter of fact #3 has invited me to see his band play downtown one of these Fridays. Think i'll go. Just so i can say to the bouncer, "I'm with the band."

Quote 60

My Love
Eat your meat...

You wanna get boned
You wanna get stoned -

You wanna get burned
You wanna get turned
You wanna get fucked inside out

I need a hit...
Suck it up
Cum

- "Woman Like a Man", B-Sides, Damien Rice

Bivalve Jones

After having looked up how to shuck an oyster [OMG i've been SO hooked on oysters lately!!! Some might say i need to get laid], once again i find clams in white wine sauce on my mind. Only this time i hafta bookmark the recipes i find.

It never ceases to impress me how many results an online search yields. My favorite is on Still Waters. [How poetic!!! Kudos!!!...]

I love it because: It does not have a gazillion ingredients. It's down to the nuts and bolts. And the best part:

Serves 4, but two can handle all of it.

Food For Thought 5

There is this one classic Friends episode where Phoebe dates a psychologist that drives everybody up the wall, and she doesn't see why.

In one scene the psychologist advises Monica, former overweight food-junkie, "Remember: It's just food. Not love!"

Tonight i chow down a Johnsonville (oooh, Freudian, anyone?) hot link, "with real jalapeños and red peppers!". Even doused in Tabasco, it ain't that good. I mean, i've had SO much better!!! So NOT worth the 21 grams of fat, 8 of which are saturated.

Oooh what does that tell you about me?!??

Recent Studies

Denisse has this theory derived from her online dating experience: Shorter men fib about their height, fudging by approximately two inches.

I was bemused and incredulous. She insisted on the objectivity in her vast studies. She's on the taller side for an Asian-American. And she will date only within her race so she's had to endure a lot of these discrepancies apparently. She'd be the authority.

Last Friday i had a date that played like a Seinfeld episode. It was so comedic, as soon as i came home, closed the door behind me and threw my purse on the foyer table (ha, ha), i burst out laughing.

But... details aside, back to Denisse's theory:

My date was 5'8" on paper. (Well, electronic paper, that is.) I purposely wore UGG's a.k.a. as flat as they come, in the name of conducting scientific research.

He was a small man! (Smeagol scrawny!) My height at best. That would be an exaggeration of at least 3"!

And you know what i say: Can't date 'em if you can't do 'em.

At one point, in the parking lot afterwards, i could swear i was towering over him. Given, there was uneven terrain, but that was one variable.

I have to concur: Dr. Denisse, your findings are accurate!!

Food For Thought 4

On Thursday i bought a whole bunch of veggies to be grilled on my homebody Sunday. Portobello was the impetus - i was inspired by a recipe online after having been in love with the fungus for four years. Then there was an eggplant recipe of Elsie's i have been meaning to try ever since i tasted hers, which involves soy sauce and Worcestershire - and i decided to improvise and replace her balsamic with rice vinegar. While i was at the store, the bell peppers called out to me, and i picked up a couple to be lightly salted. Can't go wrong with those.

Yesterday at my town's farmer's market, i spotted these miniature squash - just the cutest things. I imagined how tender they must be. All they needed was a sprinkle of salt! On impulse, i bought a few.

The miniature squash turned out the most delectable of them all - a champion in its own league. The portobello was the most disappointing. It was not so much the recipe, but i fell short on the variables. (Which explains the absence of a photo here.)

So the afterthought saved the day while the forethought plain-out fizzled, and everthing in between was mediocre at best.

Moreover, sometimes you don't have to fret over a fancy schmancy sauce or marinade. Sometimes ONE condiment - the simplest of them all - is all you need.

A lesson about life, indeed.

Continental

I eye the poly bubble mailer in which i'm sending to JD James Blunt's sophomore album All the Lost Souls.

I glance up at my zip code on an Avery 5160, and down at his, scribed with a fine-point Sharpie.

Wow, he really is far away. He's like a whole 60766 zip units away.

Goner

Why the 56-year-old Jerry Springer look-alike who recently contacted me on my online dating site is NOT gonna get a response (as emailed to Denisse last night):

1. Doesn't drink alcohol. [WHAT?!??!!]
2. Reminds me of Elton John in other pix.
3. Reminds me of the senator who turns into a puddle in X-Men.

In fact, more like, as he turns into a puddle...

Slide

"Can't wait to see ya tomorrow!!!" Writes Denisse @ 12:27 a.m.

If ONE person in the world feels this way, that's enough for me. : )

Filtered

Last Saturday, in a blog-maintenance frenzy, i modified my settings on Site Meter so that visits of the author (that would be me) would be excluded from being recorded by the counter. [I did it by user name AND by IP address. Me so proud : ) ]

That'll probably slash my weekly average by roughly 66.7%. LOL.

... My visits don't count. If you believe in reincarnation, that is a profound statement.

Merrily

OMG the dude has his hand on her ass! How awesome is THAT?!??

And You May Quote Me 14

A little sugar goes a long way.

That goes for coffee... and people.

Tainted

I like white tees. I like white underwear.

I like white boys.

But... back to the underwear: Sometimes you don't see how dingy a piece has become until you hold it up against another that is pure and immaculate.

Kinda how i feel when i examine my life, and, against advice, compare it to others': I am dingy.

Someone OxiClean me please!

Oh... yes, i know. The only one who can OxiClean me is me.

What Sounds Good Right Now

Clams in white wine sauce sprinkled with parsley flakes

As a Friend...

Congrats

On growing unattached to me.

Things I Cherished @ Alyssa's* 30th Birthday Bash

Jägermeister shots
Kissing Buttercup** the hostess on the mouth - Mmmwahh! - sweet & moist & sensual & pretty (i wish she wasn't married!)
Clear liqueur from Greece, summer of 2007, no label, imported illegally
Grilled sausage from Italy with unknown minced herb
Whole roasted garlic with brie (OMG heaven!)
Tall asparagus sautéed in pressed garlic
Rich, sinful chocolate cake - so moist! But not as moist as Buttercup's lips : )
Cake made of flowers!!! From Alyssa's Mom
Hugs and smiles and high-five's from strangers
Meeting people in person! *Gasp*! What a concept!!!
An occassional exchange of "I love you" with Alyssa
Touching a passed-out Buttercup in the exposed small of her back (so smooth!) as the guys look on and gawk through the window out peering in from the backyard
Homegrown "purple" from Rocklin, CA
A crowd cheering me on as i take a puff


*Derek II's gf. Not her real name.
**Not her real name; her parents were hippies

Taylor's Taffy

Present from Taylor, part of a 5-pound purchase @ Carousel Taffy, Capitola, CA.

Quote 61

Some days you are the dog. Some days you are the hydrant.

- Anonymous

Things I Did This Morning

1. Updated and customized the template of my blog to enable collapsible archives and better search capabilities.

2. Cleaned the toilet even though i wasn't expecting company.

Funny how trivial, mundane things can make you feel like you're being good to yourself.

3. Changed a light bulb.

How many anorexics does it take to change a light bulb? Wish i had a punch line.

Shrinkage 3

For some reason, on Sat mornings i usually weigh the least in the week.

This morning, it looks as if i've dropped another 2 lb., making it 38 lb. i have shed since my peak. And i found myself thinking, "I wonder if i can go down another." Cuz then my weight will be an even number. (Right now it's a prime number. Which, come to think of it, is cool.)

It now hurts to sit in front of the computer for hours on end because there is officially no cushioning in my bony ass. That's right. My tushy ain't cushy no mo.

Quote 60

Truth is a great flirt.

- Franz Liszt

Bearer of Wings

This evening, as i drove along 280 N, the sky was a Renaissance oil painting of lavender, baby blue, heather grey, charcoal, cream and gold - the kind they paint to inspire you to deify.

For a couple of minutes there, for me, The Nameless existed.

Omega-3 Jones

I looked up fugu this evening after a correspondent mentioned having had it in Japan. I've wondered about pufferfish since i was a child. Must be really yummy to be worth the risk of death by poisoning when hordes seem to be willing.

While @ the Monterey Aquarium, my nephew AC was fascinated by the ocean sunfish. I looked it up tonight. I'm fascinated. It's the heaviest bony fish in the world. And it looks so menacing, grotesque and stoic all at once, it reminds me of a gargoyle.

The giant is a delicacy in Japan and Taiwan. Go figure. Asians will eat anything. (I'm allowed to say that. I'm Asian.)

I'm bewildered. Huge fish can't be that tender or delectable.

Taylor wouldn't be interested. He won't eat anything with a binomial name. The ocean sunfish is known as the Mola mola.

By 8:30 p.m. i had to microwave a Gorton's lemon pepper battered fish fillet.

Malleability

You are a puzzle piece with unique curvature.

Every time you are bombarded with disappointment and hurt, your parameters are morphed.

So that you will never fit a fellow piece again.

I'm So Bright I Blind Myself

Yesterday i was getting breakfast at McDonald's when i saw "Usage McMuffin" on the menu.

I thought, "Oooh, a new item! A marketing campaign appealing to nerds?"

During my two-minute wait, I was this close to asking the clerk what a Usage McMuffin had on it, when i realized...

It's Sausage McMuffin, with the plaque shoved too far left, behind the rim.

Unprescribed

Some of us have a deficiency in an element that the body needs, e.g. iron, and have to take a supplement.

I have a deficiency in love: My brain simply does not produce enough for myself.

Where's that Love Caplet when you need one?!?? : )

No matter. Knowing me, even with an external supply i won't be able to retain it - i'll just flush it out of my system.

A Shout-Out. Almost. 2

Lately, when i smooth lotion on my lower back (i'm one of those flexible freaks that can reach all areas of my back), flashbacks of Taylor running his fingers on the lumbar section of my vertebral column will sting me like a stun gun. And by reflex my hands will jerk back, as if i have just touched a platter fresh out of a 475° oven.

There is such a negligible amount of fat on my back now that you can almost make out all the intervertebral discs...

Thank you, Taylor, for counting my vertebrae... And for everything else.

Quote 59

A retentive memory is a good thing. But the ability to forget is truly a token of greatness.

- Elbert Green Hubbard


Disclaimer: i may be paraphrasing, as i'm doing this from memory. Ha! The irony!

Epiphany 11

Autobiography of a Yogi tells that Paramhansa Yogananda saved a fawn which grew up into a deer and stayed his friend for years.

When the deer became gravely ill, it refused to die. It hung on until one night, it entered Paramhansa's dream, telling him it was ready to continue its journey, but his love was keeping it earthbound. It told him that it loved him, but it was time to let him go.

The next day, a teary-eyed Paramhansa told the deer, "I release you."

That night, the deer died.

...

When their cat Blue was near death but seemed to willfully cling on, author Carmen Richardson Rutlen told her son this story to illustrate that he had to let their beloved go in peace.

... Sometimes you have to release someone so that they can die.

I've learned recently that, sometimes, you have to release someone so that they may live.

Black Birds Have Spoken 4

Aaaaah... Nothing like starting your Sunday morning by picking up a dead cockroach.

When i spray, i drench. The suckers practically drown.

That's right. When i set out to kill something, it dies.

Phantasm

Mid-afternoon today, never having previously noticed Recchiuti Confections at the Ferry Building, i stopped in my tracks to admire it without entry. Looked like a lot of dark chocolaty pleasure to me! In my peripheral vision a man in the shop had his eyes fixed on me.

After like 30 seconds, i turned to meet his gaze. He had already looked away. It was a curt glimpse in a sea of heads, but i was floored by his gentle features. They reminded me of Taylor's.

Our eyes never met.

As i walked away, he watched me leave... in an immaculate white T-shirt that rendered him vulnerable.

Sadness washed over me.

Walking down Market toward the Embarcadero station, a group of guys passed me by. It was a blur, but i could've sworn one of them looked exactly like Dark Chocolate guy there. The sun had gone behind buildings. The streets seemed desolate. I felt surreal, as if i was playing a part in the film Abre Los Ojos.

As the Richmond train was pulling in, i spotted a pensive passenger by the window, zooming by, who could also be the one i'd had a moment with.

They're all moments.

I am chasing a ghost. Everyone and anyone can be the embodiment of my illusion called love.

And You May Quote Me 11

Being severely depressed and unable to cry...

is like

Penetration
without juice or lubricant in a tube.

True

This morning i was moving things around my purse on my foyer table (chuckle, chuckle), and dropped my Palm off the edge.

It landed on my left foot, the corner hitting first. An instant bruise. Amazing how it throbbed for more than five minutes.

I'd had a split second to decide whether to remove my foot from under the plunge. I love my Palm enough to... NOT.

Goodness

This morning Derek I, all smiles, surprised me with this tasteful arrangement of four fall leaves he put together himself. He has quite an eye, too, for each was a different hue and none overpowered the rest.

I was so pleased, i practically rambled my "Thank you's". Derek grinned, pleased that i was pleased.

"It's like a corsage!" I remarked, holding it upright against my wrist.

"Will you go to the prom with me?" Responded Derek I. He burst into laughter.

For the rest of the day i glanced at the bunch from time to time. At one point i held it up to scrutinize the colors, lines and textures. It was mesmerizing - almost psychedelic.

Random acts of kindness are soooo cool!!!

Epiphany 10

I am a surfer on sadness.

Sometimes i'm freezing. I get struck down by relentless waves. My freckled face is constantly sprayed by salty mist so i squint. My vision becomes compromised. The horizon is ambiguous twilight.

Sometimes i feel all alone. Sometimes i am all alone.

But i get back on my surfboard and do it all over anyway.

And hopefully, once in a while, a bystander admires how good my butt looks in the ocean.

S-s-s-scenario

"What Goes Around... / ...Comes Around" is possibly my favorite Justin Timberlake song. It's one of those songs that just make me move. Involuntarily. As if possessed.

(Yes, i have a favorite Justin Timberlake song. How sad.)

In said song, there's a "busy tone" phone reference. What are we, in the 20th century? You go straight to voicemail!

In said song, also, Justin rhymes "cheated" with " bleeded". Umm, did you finish grade school? The past tense of "bleed" is "bled"!

I actually gave the artist the benefit of the doubt and looked it up. Sorry, Justin. Someone must've missed the day they taught conjugation.*


*Okay, Justin probably didn't write the lyrics himself. But it's just fun to pick on him. : )

Lorton

Every time i listen to "Sorry" by Maria Mena i'm reminded of this one Friday night toward the end of summer i was at Nectar Wine Lounge.

'Twas a beautiful night. Already chilly in California. The air was crisper than a white Gap button-down.

I texted Taylor to say hi, with a smiley. We had broken up. Goodwill is abundant when your bloodstreams have been warmed by wine.

Taylor texted back, "I miss you too."

Sadness can be a rush.

A moment later, i looked up at Burlingame Hotel across the street, and caught sight of a seated female figure on the third floor by the window sill. I imagined she was in town only for the night, not knowing a soul in the vicinity.

I could hardly tell her features in the faint light. But i saw her haunting, hungry eyes. I was reminded of those of Maria de Medeiros', so doll-like and yet pensive that they're paradoxically surreal.

There the wistful stranger stubbornly sat and peered out her window, powerless over her wistfulness.

Aren't we all...

Caveat

Looks like today is the last nice, warm day in a while.

Enjoy... i tell myself. Before depression sets in.

Bbrrrrr

Some nights my quilt winds up on the floor. When i pick it up and pull it over me in the wee hours, the tagged side sometimes lands on my shoulders.

I have to sit up and peform this elaborate rotation - the quilt is huge. By the time i'm done shifting i'm usually wide awake. But that's the way things go, for if there is one thing i hate, it is a tag around my neck.

Perhaps not as much as i would hate a tag around, say, my big toe, though.

Amiss

I don't even know how we got here.

Seems safe to surmise that, if one was not displeased with the destination, the nature of the journey would not cause vexation.

Lunch Idea Conjured @ Whole Foods

Herbed Roasted Turkey with Capers on Rosemary Crusted Wheat

Deep Thoughts (Not By Jack Handey) 10

I get up from in front of the computer, walk away, and forget what i got up for.

It feels funny to keep walkin' with goose bumps on my thighs.

Oh. That's right. I need pants.

Core

I told Derek II the gist my corset-fitting story.

"Apparently I'm less than zero," i concluded.

Derek was utterly amused. With a twinkle in his eye, he exclaimed, "You can't be negative!"

Negative. That i am. That... i... am...

Delay

DOMS - Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness:

When you have a strenuous workout, or when you hold your 20-pound nephew for 10 minutes on end, that same night your muscle may tingle. You may even have the shakes. But 36-48 hours later, that's when it really hurts.

Likewise, with heartache, you have an impact. Hours later, it really hits you. Doesn't seem to take as long though. But i'm just speaking for me.

Give Thanks

Derek II is going turkey hunting right before Thanksgiving.

"It's not every day you get to hunt your own food," says a stoked Derek.

"Isn't it a hassle to remove the bullet?" Frowning, i ask.

"You shoot them in the head." Derek informs me. "The male are easy targets. They've got this red crown thing."

He's even got the female turkey decoys (made of foam! Which is comical to me) and sound simulator to entice the male to draw near.

"They get frustrated," Derek further educates me. "Sometimes it takes a couple of hours, but eventually they give in and approach."

"That is so cruel!" I cry.

We have it so good as humans and don't even know it. We don't go to a bar, flirt with someone, think we're gonna get laid, and BOOM!!!!! - get our brains blown out.

Shrinkage 2

This afternoon, before the nurse gave me my injection, she pinched my upper arm in disapproval.

"Honey," she said. "You need more meat in there!"

I chuckled in disbelief. She didn't laugh with me.

Just this morning i was invited to a November wedding. (Less than two months to shop!!) After the injection appointment, i stopped at a cool boutique and tried on a few things, including a corset-esque top that had caught my eye from 6 yards away.

At the cash register, having noticed that the corset was not amongst the items i was paying for, the over-friendly clerk inquired on my fitting experience.

"It didn't work out," i lamented. "It kept shifting and slipping off."

"Perhaps you need a smaller size," suggested the chipper clerk.

Semi-embarrassed, i politely responded, "It was already size 0."

Sage 2

Denise has been bogged down by case overload at work. She would not have time to pee or have a drink of water until noon. Her stomach would hurt from not eating on time. The end of her shift would roll around and she'd still have a stack of forms to fill out.

She'd come home, too exhausted to make dinner, and pass out on the couch by 8 p.m.

Today her building is admitting yet another new patient who will be assigned to her. This morning, instead of my usual "Have a good day!", i found myself writing:

Have as good a day as you possibly can!

Lowering our expectations: That's a stepping stone to happiness.

Kiss Me, I'm a Foodie 3

All afternoon i got raspberry swirl poundcake on my mind. I think i saw something of the variety @ Peet's earlier this week.

Food obsession has returned with a vengeance.

At the end of the day, unable to stand it any longer, i drove down to Bux to take my chances with the sweets. I figured, if nothing tickled my fancy, there was always raspberry mocha to fall back on. : )

I wound up getting this "Summer Fruit Cobbler" that had peach and some sort of berry, a moist center and the perfect, crumby crusty top. I sat on an oversized armchair indoors and in the sun, the best of both worlds, and really took my time with the cobbler. (Boy, that sounds dirty!!)

Perhaps it was not as much about relishing the pastry as savoring the luxurious experience of being totally in the moment, not wondering if i should be somewhere else, doing something else. I wasn't planning, timing, envisioning. For five precious minutes, I was exactly where i belonged. Guiltless and free.

Yes, I Aspire to Write 2

Before she signed my book, Ms. Allison asked if i want my name on there.

"Oh, no," i replied. "Thank you."

I'm insignificant that way.

Earlier in the day i'd imagined asking her to make it out to "V and Phoebe", the latter my alias @ Bux/Peet's. It would be like a Dr. Jackass & Ms. Hyde thing. Or simply, "To Phoebe".

But no one would get it. It would be meaningless.

Oh, as if "real" names are any more meaningful. *Huff*!

It's all arbitrary.

Life is arbitrary.

Yes, I Aspire to Write

Tonight i went to the literary event featuring Dorothy Allison like i had pondered, clad in black like a brooding writer would. For a couple of days i crammed on my copy of Bastard as if i wouldn't deserve an autograph if i wasn't well along.

By the time Ms. Allision went on stage, 20 minutes behind schedule, i was on page 14. As expected, the book was much better than the movie. And i liked the movie.

Ms. Allision was an engaging, effective, passionate speaker. But most of all i enjoyed her sense of humor. My mind didn't drift once till like 40 minutes into the thing. Considering my pathologically short attention span, that said a lot right there.

When we met vis-à-vis, she smiled and said, "I saw you sitting up front."

Wow. Ms. Allison noticed me in the fourth row. Lil ol' me.

Must've been my Crushed Cherry creme lipstick really poppin' against the backdrop of my pale face. Upon coming home, i realize I must've appeared circa-WWII Manchurian, à la Yoshiko Kawashima, when she wasn't cross-dressing.

But then i just felt a little flushed. I told her i'd enjoyed her sense of humor.

"It's quirky," she grinned.

Not unlike mine. Or so i'd like to think.

Severance 2

I wonder if it is time to replace my Memory Foam™ pillow. Apparently it has been forgetting to alleviate my chronic pain.

Quote 58

Heaven forbid i be criticized
Heaven forbid i be ignored

Did you just call her amazing
Surely we both can't be amazing

- "One", Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie, Alanis Morissette

Logic

You can't lose something that was never yours.

But nothing is really ours. We possess nothing.

So really we never lose.

Quote 57

i kissed your mouth
Your back
Is that all you need?

What i am to you
is not real...

What i give to you
is just what i'm going through
What i really need
is what makes me bleed

You do not need me

- "Volcano", O, Damien Rice

Sabbatical

At work this afternoon i wished Seth* a happy vacation before he took off for his seven-day leave.

"Are you going anywhere?" I inquired. "Doing anything?"

"I'll be partying," replied Seth. "Drinking."

"Have a beer for me," i said.

"I'll have a six-pack for you," said Seth. "Everyday."

Aww. That's almost... like... Love.


*Not his real name

Aging

My baby nephew OC is turning one tomorrow. Elsie is getting him a sponge cake. He loves that texture - it's perfect to munch on, the few teeth that he has.

If i was to get a card it'd say, "Happy 1st Birthday!"

What a fallacy, huh? One's first birthday is at the moment of emerging from the birth canal. So, in essence, at age one we experience our second birthday.

Our age is always one year behind our actual existence. Which perhaps explains why our wisdom always seems to, in turn, run short.

Presence

Dorothy Allison, author of Bastard Out of Carolina, is speaking, reading and book-signing at SJSU next Wednesday.

I have the book. It'd be cool to have it signed!

I feel inclined to attend this event. After all, i went to SJSU just last year. I can probably find the Music Concert Hall at 7:30 p.m.

I imagine standing in line to finally approach Ms. Allison. O to be in her proximity!

"How did you like the book?" She'd ask, looking up briefly from signing "Love, D.A." with her marbled-barrelled rollerball.

"Umm..." I'd stammer. "I haven't read it yet. But i've seen the movie. Luv the movie!"

I imagine her hurling the book at me. I'd duck, pick it up, and merrily skip out of there. The bastard that i am.

Snippet 25

V:
My thermostat says 78°, but i feel like i should turn my heat on.

Taylor:
Why so cold?

V:
Apparently the butter i consumed tonight has not been converted to a fatty, insulating subdermal layer just yet.

Taylor:
Give it time... Between the butter and the French toast... It will come.

No Caption Necessary... Almost 4

Limoncello @ The Van's.

No Caption Necessary... Almost 3

I like my thighs now that i'm thin... Even though they look like stubs here. Remind me of Boxing Helena.

Food For Thought 3

I bought horseradish on Tueaday. Not just any ol' horseradish, Tulelake horseradish - the hottest, unadulterated cut horseradish in the consumer market.

But i did not get cocktail shrimp with it. Owning the horseradish seemed adequate to exorcise certain Saturday memories.

I imagined JD driving out of Utah that day, continuing on his quest to the East Coast.

Seaweed has made Taylor cry.

Seaweed and horseradish. Who would've thought...

And You May Quote Me 13

Sometimes it takes one relationship to incinerate your wick. And you can never be lit again.