2001-05-31 - 9:56 a.m.

tip of the day: sleep when tired.

i'm fuckin exhausted. i have these compulsions to run until i can safely collapse, curtailing any feelings that would come up in a quiet moment with myself.

i have had so much to say and no time once so ever to do it.

pet peve number 203: women who have the automatic assumption that boys know better. i was working on a camera at work and this other producer said oh let steve do it. with the assumption that only he would know and this pisses me off cuz i do know hella more than graceful clown pouncing steve.

let's not discredit eachother huh? i know i need to work on that too cuz i'll second guess a woman every now and then. but i'm synical and i second guess my male bosses all the time to their face. hehe. they must enjoy me.

on a good boy note: i was surfing all weekend (loved that, i feel sooo complete out in the water. so full. so challenged. so loved. so calm.). This guy on a gun (a pointed short board typical of aggressive 'narli' surfers) was trying to cut in on my wave and steal it, well i went for it anyway (normally i'd chicken out) and i got it, got up and felt so good. it's the little triumphs. this is imp cuz i grew up with years of lill girlnesses of stepping aside. putting myself aside. on the side i'm ignored, stepped on, passed over, left behind. now i'm on the wave.

i went to san diego to visit family becuz i was feeling disconnected from everyone i know and i needed roots. my grandpa is dying a slow goodbye. he always insists on having me walk out of his place with some cash in hand. i love this man, i grew up with this cautious, fearful, witty old irish man. he, escorted by me and his nurse, shuffled into his bedroom, for him to grab his wooden cross off the wall, and with shaking hands removed the 'secret' panel and pulled out dozens of bills to select one for me. it amazes me that as old as he is and in the midst of all he faces with his disease (parkinsons), that he always knows who i am when i first say hello on the phone. this is the way i know i exist.

life is strange. i have enough money for everything i need. i look across the way at my uncle and i'm fascinated that i have in my prescence one of the members of 'the boardroom' of old white men that help to run the country, shaped by their money and political ambitions. my uncle, being conservative, right winged and catholic, well we don't see eye to eye. i could of went that way. joined up with the family biz, climbed up quick..etc. but i could never sleep sober if i did. i would have to seperate myself from me to endure that.

i have been feeling really salty with all my friends as of late. ripe is the only one i've talked to about it and she bathed me with love and soothed the places that hurt so badly inside. this is all coming up because i'm doing this excavation of my past for a creativity workshop. we are writing a biography, writing about each year of our life. and i look back and see the patterns with friends. the desertion, not feeling good enough, inconsistency, and it's left me raw and questioning. i am looking at all my friendships once over to see where they are out of balance. i just want interesting, caring, loyal people in my life who are consistent.

with this excavation i am purposefully opening doors that i previously have worked hard to slam shut and never look back on. i'm like a snake that sheds skins and leaves them far behind. it's very humbling and painful to own my past. it's also releasing me in some unexplainable way.

i have a memory of family reunions, my uncles. we were driving down from the mountains and we'd have to pull over every few yards for one uncle or my dad to throw up. i remember a wedding, me with a jack and coke in hand (16? yrs old) stumbling out onto the patio and the uncles saying, 'oh your turning out to be just like your father'. those words burned knowledge of who i am into my skin.

i know my fate. i can choose my destiny. they're different goldie says. my fate is to delicately balance drinking all my life, getting bruised and being unconscious through it all. or to die a fatal death at the bottle or at my chemistry set. but for over two years i have choosen to be present and to fight up stream against this fate. it feels like i have to constantly swim so hard to fight it. it seems so much easier to stop fighting and be swept away in the current.

i took a new comer, who is my cousin, to a mtg. she's funny, she's fresh off loads cocaine and she shows up to the mtg still in her party clothes. like she can't step out of them just yet. she can't wake up from that party.

i have to tell you about this wild premiere party we went to and the plans i think i'm making for complete inebriation.

we'll get into that later....