2001-09-06 - 12:31 a.m.

city of angels

i guess i can stop writing my city as it looks like i'll be here a while. so instead of city i'll write my mental state of being or i'll go back to writing a pollyanic spun suggestion of the day.

mental state: just a bit softer than cosby's chocolate puddin pie.

i'm organizing my porn party for this weekend. it'll be...fuck that. i'm trying to stop projecting what i think things will be, as i clearly never know until i'm lodged into that very moment.

i'm having a boogie nights 70's valley style porn party. i will attempt to cook asian fares for cheap. i will put on a slutty rainbow dress with go go boots and i will crimp my hair. it seems like it will be a full house in my smallish apartment. that should be fun.

tomorrow i hope to be driving home in a car. today i had to walk 5 miles to the marina and my arse hurts. i'm too fuckin stubborn to ask for help or rent a car. i'm all spun on getting something i like (which is of course materialistic and hard to keep up as per usual), or something dull but drivable with less havok. i'm so poor after my wrecklass abandon around the world that i can't afford much. i test drove the materiallistic choice hoping to hate it and i loved the drive. it's an older range rover. so now i'll look like all those brentwood babes who lunch and don't know where in the world afganistan is or that the women there are required to cover themselves head to toe. that reminds me, seeing those women in bangkok international airport blanketed in black ropes, sweeping material quickly across their dark faces, standing near their man who wears sandals, casual jeans and a t-shirt made me feel out of body. i wondered what they must think of my short shorts and tenny style, fast paced liberation. is it envy or judgement that passes through the flicker of their eyes that briefly meets my own?

and what do i have to say? judgement is easy. understanding is sage.

between us there is quiet. quick curiousity.

cush hasn't written. maybe he's sad or hurt i didn't stay for my bday and stuck him with the boat rental etc. sweet cush. damn i'd like some sugar. i want to find a nice looking, considerate lover who rocks the kasba. and we might as well call my bedroom a lionesses lair in kasba. it looks fabulous as i stayed up till 4.30am hanging the vietnamese lanterns, that when lit up look like dark colored jewels of all different sizes. i hung them all over my ceiling at different heights. i did the wiring all myself, i felt like a little electrician. and i only blew up the self made plug once! it looks goregous. i can't wait to have sex in that room. it has to be bombastic as the stakes are high to christen the room.

ps i saw the a creamy black convertable speedster today. i just stared at it longingly. nothing could be better than that car. except a convertible 1956 corvette. or a classic mga or miget. god i love vintage sports cars. i think the soul of my great grandfather who raced in the indy 500's in the 1940's lives in me like a screamin mee mee.

cheers as i try to stay in the moment, even tho compared to the paradise i just traveled thro this bill's stacking, no car, no job moment feels like an elephants itchy, muddy ass.