2004-05-04 - 11:12 p.m.

holy fuck all. i've been dying to call british ben. my x. i panicked out of no where tonight that he's getting married. i don't know this, we haven't talked in over a YEAR. which i can't fuckin believe he hasn't broken the fuck down and called me.

my dad now counts the number of "fuck's" i say in our conversations and reports with a laugh at the end. i was down to four in the last.

he was thrilled.

i think i broke myself this morning.

i was surfing, or attempting something quite like it. i was entering high tide off some stairs down a drop along large rocks with water slamming into them. water undercut my darling feet, knocked me on my ass, throwing my nine foot board underneath my right boob, depressing my entire rib cage a few feet and leaving me wasted.

this is how cool people from the valley can be. .. the fella next to me, surely some twoit from that vast booshit land you can't fuckin pay me to travel, stood by and didn't say a thing or offer help. maybe he didn't hear my wallup behind the crush of the wave. if he did, i advise him to go back to topanga-angry-bitch-beach and leave my peaceful spot alone.

i had to paddle out just to see if i could still breath and to see if anything was broken. long ago i injured the left side, now i guess i just got evened out, mafio-so-surf-style. that wasn't the last of the rock torture. at the end i'm exiting water that has risen even more fiercely. i'm inching past these rocks to climb up to the stairs and wave after wave catches me, blasting sand filled water into my face. if i were a child and those rocks my momma, you should call child protective services. i was beaten. i had mid sized pebbles all over my scalp, and they wouldn't reliquish control well into my conditioning stage of my shower.

*i was slightly irritated*.

enter my "bosses" email berating me for the casualness of my email to an intern. no berate is too kind, more like lash-style criticized me. i would take the rocks twice a day rather than once of his steaming diarrea bs. he's the most hitleristic, authoritarian, militaristic prick i've ever come across in my ten years of professional life. my job is an awesome 'do good for the world' job that i constantly am feeling bad in. i should be enjoying it. yet he depresses me. i fucking hate, loath and disrespect him utterly. and he's like this to everyone. i wish they cut him. it's unfucking believeable. and i think he wants to fire me. he wants to ruin my unbrideled spirit any way he can, because his was broken long ago and he can't tolherate anyone with inner freedom. he's angry folks. seethingly angry and it spills out everywhere, with every edge of every rude word to everyone on our committee. it's complicated. but i want to get a different support job. which sucks as i'd like the other work to quickly be taking over the income levels. but that may take time. if i could, financially, i'd call him, no go straight to his face with an oldschool boombox and blast the j. cash song 'you can take this job and shove it!!' then i'd detail every reason i'm quitting. and that motivates me to work harded on my business i'm creating, but there's only so god damn much i can do in one day. particularly when he's barking up my tree.

he just belittles and berates someone until they are too scared to speak and i don't fuckin play that game. i am that person that speaks up and that cock sucker knows it. but the fuckin "man" owns me and shuts me up, my bills that is. i'm locked in cuz of my car disasters.

i've been chilling socially in the last few dizza's. have you felt it? i have curbed discussions with 'worker' cuz she's pretty toxic at times with her idea's about life.

i'm planning a biz trip to nyc beginning of june and i just can't imagine that it will happen. everything i've been working so hard for will catapult at the end of this month. and in the next few i'll get to see if all this creation will support me or if it'll remain a dream i talk about as i do all this rent-work. i'm working so hard. until collapse at times. now i'm demanding of myself to take time to me, surfing, yoga, meditation, writing...becuz my innards are spiritually running dry. saped out. and all i've been able to do is react like someone throwing arms at dozens of tenis balls slamming her way. i want to act, not just be subject to the lifes balls.

another place i always just react is with men. i always want to come in with some firm plan. ei. i won't date or sleep with anyone for a month. except for frenchy. and anyone else who sweeps me off my feet. or for a good lover. at the end of all my addendums, all you have is a free for all. i can never committ to abstinence and patience. cuz then i meet someone who peeks my interest and somewhere inside i think it might be it. so i dive in. i can't believe how much i gave to 'busy' so soon. i don't just mean physically, but i feel like i gave him consent. consent of saying he already passed, and not that i still retained the right get to know him. like i handed over myself for him to choose what to do. and i know he didn't respect it. not that i even respect him...at all. at all. he's been in europe and i've nearly forgotten about him. it's amusing. but then i think at some point we'll have to talk. i can imagine him devoted to someone. but he has too much baggage right now. and i need to do some clarifying myself. i would love to meet someone. which is hillarious cuz i stray from anything mildly serious. but,,,there are so many activities i would like a bf for. and it's just to complicated to schedule different friends for each. like a hike and picnic and rock laydown in topanga. and the film noir picnic at the night cemetary cinema thing in hollywood and the music show in chinatown after. and lacma museum and the new play i want to see. and tee-pee.ing republican's and egging bosses cars. and tickle torture and great sex in all places. and snuggling and even fighting. so i feed the need with temporary type love. right now with the french guy. he's great, but not it. but enough for right now and i can't help feeling that that is a very shit attitude to have. as if i'm using someone, not like they aren't signed up for their own play. but still, karmically is that klean?

don't jack me and say i sound like carry bradshaw.

so check it out, i can barely breath with this rib thing. alright, that's an exaggeration. but it does hurt and coughing is out of the question. in an odd way, physical pain is comforting. it alleviates immediate attention to emotional pain. slice me, dice me, paradise me.

where the fuck is my play mate? where are you doll, we have some catching up to do!