2001-05-13 - 7:49 p.m.

I am so annoyed, cuz I lost my entry last night. So this one is just a sad reguritation.

Today I was out in the surf and it was like a scene from �a perfect storm�. My board was straight up in the air and one wave smacked my cheast so hard, it nearly took the wind from me. The sadistic part? It made me laugh a vicious, challenging laugh and paddle harder out into the insanity. It got me excited that someone like me, previously so cautious, would be out there wanting more. I heard later the lifeguards talking about shutting down the beach and that the drift was moving at a mile per minute. The water was warm, so I felt safe and I felt wild.

Last night�.

11.30am we arrive downtown LA, to a large brick building amidst dark alleys and lonliness. Crackasia and a new work friend and I were heading to this club, art party thing. There was art on the walls, tires that lead you from one room to another in the labrynth of expression. There was an oxygen bar (which I tried, desperately wanting to feel differently than myself). There were men in pink with matching frilly skirts that puffed out with an umbrella en tow. There were women with body paint and one exposed breast. There was a fetish room where my friend tickled women and others massaged a naked man with a knife. Delicious. I want to be a dominatrix. (this friend is the laugher from work. turns out I like her. She's a great, fun strong woman.) There were men doing handstands on the tires in their white underwear, with their dilly-whoo's bouncing about. There was a beautiful black man with braids laying in paint, surrounded by candles. He slinked around and formed new works with his body. One man painted on a wall sized canvass. There were four dj�s. I got bounced by some miget sized gay boys who found it amusing to freak crack and I. I didn�t get it. I shook some serious ass.

We went upstairs on the roof, overlooking the overcast LA, the tall buildings of the 9-5. The train passing by, making me feel like indeed we are in a real city. I loved to dance in the open air with dozens of people. I met a guy that I now have an official crush on. I just have had this undeniable craving to kiss someone I like.

I saw this man that danced like my �x�. It made me sad. Not the kind of sadness that makes you cry, the kind that is dull and with you consistently.

I asked the bartender for a red bull, straight. He said he can�t give them out w/out alcohol. Huh? No, they have to have some in it, even just a little bit, 'you won�t even taste it'. Okay babe, yea IIII won�t taste it. So I walked away, he caught up and gave us two drinks. Crack said it was virgin. I drank. I felt a taste of vodka, I considered drinking it. I considered what that would be if I never really knew if it was really alcohol and how that would make me want more and how I�d want tto throw it all away again. I thought, no I don't want to drink tonight cuz I want to dance tonight. I put it down after another investigative sip. I wish someone would get me drunk or drugged, unbeknownst to me, so it�s not my fault.

I danced. I danced with one cherry muffin that made me laugh. I felt that irresistible giggle. I felt pure joy. I felt high. I felt extremely present and it felt amazing. It�s a certain kind of high. It�s not syrupy and sloshy. It�s really extreme, and yet more fleeting. I have to really get centered and not care about what others think. I start to move, and I feel happy and sexy and insane. My imperfect stomach that I used to hate. I feel great about it now. I feel sexy all over. I feel acceptance. It�s those moments. Those that are pure joy, expression, raw, seductive, intoxicating. I live for it. I stay sober for those few moments.