random thoughts

I just read an article in a dated issue of the New Yorker by David Sedaris about his struggle to learn the French language. To overcome his difficulty to communicate, he simply started agreeing to whatever people said to him. "D'accord" (O.K.) was his response to everything, which mistakenly led to him sitting in his cotton briefs in a hospital waiting room surrounded by other (fully-clothed) patients. Something was apparently lost in translation. I was laughing out loud at this article.

Then I read a story about Clinton and also cracked up over something he said. En route from Berlin to Cape Town on a private jet, after talking and playing cards until 4 a.m., he informed the writer of the article: "We're going to have a *great* time in Africa." Another classic comment was when he arrived at the stadium in Berlin for the World Cup Final: "I'm totally psyched for this!" Clinton sounds like a swell guy to hang out with!

I saw Michel Gondry's latest film "The Science of Sleep." It's an interesting concept, the blurry line between reality and dreams. Sometimes the experiences I have feel like a dream, and sometimes the dreams I have feel so normal that they could be real. It's like the Chuang Tzu story about when he dreamt of being a butterfly, but when he woke up he didn't know if he was really a butterfly dreaming about being a man. Sometimes I feel like I would just like to stay in my dream and never wake up. But for example, when I dreamt that I received a $700 parking ticket, I was really glad to wake up.

the healing process

Why is it so hard for people to see what's good for them? Why do people keep reopening wounds and refuse to heal? Or rather why do they create new wounds, thereby making the healing process longer and more painful?

I wrote F. a goodbye e-mail yesterday. It hurt me to say goodbye, but I know that our relationship was unhealthy. Heavy drinking can be fun at times, but eventually you pay, either short-term with a hangover, or long-term with liver failure, but eventually you pay. We were drunk with infatuation, but now I've sobered up, and I'm not sure he has. I know neither of us wants to say goodbye, we'd love to keep the fun and the fantasy alive, but someone had to put an end to it, and apparently it had to be me.

I read an article in GQ a couple days ago that said breaking up via email was not proper etiquette, but when we met face-to-face, it was totally unsatisfactory and so I had no other choice. Yes, of course I had other choices, like a phone call or a real letter, but I'm done with that, and I wanted to get this over quickly. I tried to give him the face-to-face meeting, but he didn't have the decency to be mentally or emotionally present for me that afternoon, even when what we needed to say to each other should have been soberly and openly expressed.

So I'm on the road to recovery from him. That's the first step, isn't it? Admitting that you are addicted to something that wasn't good for you, and giving it up. And then taking it day by day. So this is my first day of sobriety.

pairing/recovering

I won a pair of tickets on KCRW to see Breakestra yesterday evening at the Independent. The problem is that I am not a pair. I am single. And it was a Sunday night. Unfortunately, my single girlfriends couldn’t make it for one reason or another. In fact one of them had a date, and so in a way, she was pairing up. I could have asked D. because I know he would have gladly gone, but to be honest, I didn’t want to see him two nights in a row because I thought it might give him the impression that I was *really* into him and I might have to uncomfortably thwart his advances. I wouldn’t have minded his company because he is a fun and outgoing person, but I was afraid he would put the moves on me like he was the night before. Don’t get me wrong—I like it when a guy shows you how he feels about you. But honestly, this guy had just met me and some of the things he was saying and doing didn’t seem natural. Same goes for the Texter. We met at Wish with a group of friends, made a plan to meet up for dinner, and then he steps it up to spending the night with him that very night. I am perfectly happy to share intimacy and physicality with someone when you feel like it’s a natural transgression of time spent together and the chemistry between you. But when it’s just sex, or just kissing for the hell of it, I can’t imagine doing that with anyone except for maybe Marky Mark, or if I was at Burning Man. Am I missing out on fun? I don’t think so, because if I end up sleeping with someone just for the hell of it, I know myself well enough to know that I’ll feel rejected if he doesn’t want to see me again. And frankly, feeling rejected feels worse than feeling alone and makes me want to avoid getting myself into another meaningless sexual situation again. I’d rather hold out for something deeper.

So, while dialing all of my friends I knew who might be available to join me for the concert last night, I got a call from F. It seemed coincidental, because more than any man in San Francisco and in my life right now, he is the one that I would like to spend time with. Yet we can’t spend time together. It’s like we’re grounded from each other for bad behavior. Anyway, his name was the only one in my contacts menu that I wouldn’t call, and somehow he sensed that I was thinking about him. Which brings me to the subject of recovering. I am trying to recover. I am trying to bounce back. I am trying to be open to new guys. The problem is that you click with one and want more with one, and the myriad others that you meet don’t do a thing for you. Spending time with M. felt like Disneyland. There was a magical feeling of discovering and elation when we were together. So it’s hard to forget the way he made me feel. They say the only thing that makes you forget one is to be with another. So how come it’s so hard to find someone that you want to be with?

The show at the Independent last night was incredible. Breakestra was going OFF! And even though I never found anyone to go with me, I still had a great time. There’s something about seeing good live music that really makes you feel good inside. And to top it off, I think I made someone’s night. I picked up my pair of tickets and was about to head inside when I saw a well-dressed woman waiting on the sidewalk holding a flyer. She said to the man standing next to her, “Is this the band that’s playing tonight?” I went up to her and handed her my extra ticket and said, “You’d like to see the show? Here’s a ticket! Happy Birthday!” She thanked me and I went inside.

Later on, the man who was with her approached me in the club and asked if I was the one who gave his wife the ticket and wished her a happy birthday. He offered to buy me a drink and asked if I wanted to join them in the VIP area upstairs. They were very appreciative and friendly. They had left their three children at home with a babysitter and were enjoying their night off. And I didn’t feel like I was dancing alone.

births and deaths

So it was my birthday on September 8th. I am constantly reminded how important it is to enjoy our lives. It’s taken me a long time to realize this, but I think it’s the most important lesson in life. You have to enjoy your surroundings and you have to enjoy the choices you’ve made. Because life is only a series of choices we make. Many people feel that they are trapped in their choices, but they must see that our possibilities really are endless.

Today is my friend Stephanie’s birthday, and for 31 years of her life, she celebrated her birthday just like any other birthday. Then in 2001, suddenly September 11 became a day of tragedy. And many people forgot that it was actually the joyous day when she was given life. I guess now when the day rolls around I try not to reflect on the terrible the events of this day in 2001, but how lucky I am, how lucky we all are, to be alive, and to be given the gift of life and its endless possibilities. If we are not taking advantage of the possibilities before us, and accepting our choices, and accepting the power we have to make new choices, we are merely sleepwalking through life.

I have of course been riding my bicycle a lot lately. And I love riding, it’s very exhilarating and fun. I saw two deer the other day that had been killed by cars. We joke and call them roadkill, but they were living creatures, and seeing a beautiful fawn lying lifeless on the side of the road made me very sad, because that spotted fawn had a mother, and probably siblings, who mourned the fawn’s death, and the car must have simply driven away into the night with no remorse for taking away the fawn’s possibilities of roaming and grazing the hillsides of Marin.

Since I wrote about what my friend Brendan did over his birthday weekend, I will recount my birthday events.

September 8:
Phone call with Alexei
Sushi lunch with my mom and Rosy
Received a birthday card from all my new co-workers
Computer crashed so I got to leave work early
Drinks and dinner with Jayson and friends
Dancing with Young, Julie and Sultan
Propositioned via text message

September 9:
Brunch with Jessica, Chantal, Young, Jayson, Estelle, Sultan, Julia and Noemi
Stephanie’s bridal shower
Marin Bicycle Bash and drinking beers from a keg in a red trailer equipped with DJ
Dinner with my mom

September 10:
Bike ride to Mill Valley
Walk to Tennessee Valley with Angie
Brunch with Angie
Bike ride back to San Anselmo
Beers with Rosy in Fairfax
Dinner with my dad and Karen

Even though I didn’t paraglide down Grouse Mountain, I still think I took advantage of celebrating life.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STEPHANIE!

inspiration

Here is what my friend Brendan in Vancouver is doing for his birthday which is today (let this serve as inspiration for living life to the fullest):

[copied directly from the e-mail he sent to me]

Opportunities for partage (say with high-brow french accent) of such
comsically significant proportions rarely materialize so consider this an
gathering that should not be missed. I am coming upon a birthday weekend and
I'm turning it into a marathon of epic party proportions. Beginning on
Thursday September 7th at 7:30 in the morning and spanning 4 solid days of
partage Brendan's Birthday Marathon is gonna be one to remember. Events
include paragliding, chocolat tasting, dancing, fine dining, hiking, video
games, shopping sprees, oysters, satellite reports from parallel
international celebrations taking place all over the globe, you name it. Not
only that, the japanese royal family was kind enough to coordinate the date
of the birth of the future emeperor of japan as the kick-off to the event
weekend and God will give us a fantastic light show (a partial eclipse only
visible from Japan and Australia unfortuneately) on the 7th. The only 2
things that might have made it better is if JT had listened to me and
scheduled his new album release for this weekend and if Brian DePalma hadn't
have been so stubborn as to schedule the Black Dahlia for next Friday (I
could have used the Kirchner factor to get me through this trying
milestone). I'll just have to settle for the new Deicide album "The Stench
of Redemption" which will be the official soundtrack for the BBM. All hail
Beelzebub!


The itinerary so far (subject to change as better ideas materialize):

Thursday 07 2006

Grouse Grind starting at 10:30 am
Paraglide 12:30 pm
Dandelion and Burdock 3:00 pm
Champagne at the Vancouver hotel 6:30 pm
Dinner on Main 7:30 pm
kyoo-pid'i-te at Blim at 8:30 pm
Blender 10:00 pm

Friday 08 2006

Cinnamon Pancake breakfast on Main 7:30 am
Beach and ocean swim (TIDE WILLING) 11:00 am
Fig and almond protein shakes 3:00 pm
Oyster feast/Guinness 6:30 pm
Sake and japanese tapas 7:30 pm
Six Acres 9:30 pm
Tokyo Lounge at 10:30 pm

Saturday 09 2006

Brunch with parents 10:00 am
Lattes and african chocolat 6:00 pm
Dinner at Nyala 7:00 pm
Shark drawings and desert at desert place beside the Nyala 8:30 pm
Furniture Warehouse at 10:30 pm

Sunday 10 2006

Indoor climbing 10:00 am
Shopping 2:00 pm
$4 martinis and chicken kababs at licorice 7:00 pm
Sanctuary 9:30 pm

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BRENDAN!

changes

Last night I watched the film Tsotsi, the South African film that won the Oscar for best foreign film this year. This was truly some great filmmaking, and the acting was superb. Above all, the story was a true hero’s journey, or else an antihero’s journey, because when you first meet Tsotsi, you do not like this guy. He is a gangster (the word Tsotsi apparently means Thug in Afrikaans). He is full of hate and lacks all decency, killing old men and shooting women for money. Yet as the story unfolds, he becomes a likeable character. You are on his side. Things happen to him that make him remember the child he was before he became a street survivor, and ultimately change into a decent man. In addition to the story itself, the cinematography was beautiful, especially the lighting.

I was talking to my friend Jessica yesterday about a dance film we’d like to create. As a theme, it’s going to be about identity, and the idea is how does your identity change according to external factors in your life. This has been something that I’ve always written about in my journal. I’ve often wrote about “who am I” according to where I was at that point in my life. For example, now I am Kristin, 35 going on 36, single, living with my mother in West Marin, a TV editor by profession, with a lover in Cuba. A year ago, I was living in Los Angeles in my hip and cool Silver Lake apartment. But I was unhappy. Here I feel happier, even though I’ve sacrificed some of my independence. Anyway, the theme of change and changelessness comes into play here as well. As much as we change throughout our lives, there are things that never change. People may always see me as the same spirited, high-energy, some may say crazy, gutsy girl. But M. says he remembers me from high school more as a shy and quiet girl. That was before he really knew me! Or that was before I really knew myself! I digress. The point is that external influences cause us to exhibit some characteristics above others at any given time and place. But who we are as a person, as a human being, no matter what the context, will always be the same. No one and nothing can change that. So we’re going to try to show this through dance and film, movement and moving picture, by repeating a phrase of choreography in several settings with different costumes and perhaps different music, and also allowing for the setting to inspire improvisation. I think it’s a very interesting concept, and I’m excited to embark on this creative endeavor.

altars

Sitting outside on the deck at my mom’s place is like my own private sanctuary. For the most part, it’s quiet, save for the passing cars on Sir Francis Drake Boulevard. Otherwise, it’s all about the trees, the creek and the birds that live in the trees. At any given moment in the day, I come out here and enjoy some solace. It’s a retreat from the multitudinous rhythms of life in general, the meaningless chatter of the television or radio and especially my cluttered and dark bedroom where I check my emails. I can relax in the sunshine, smell the clean air and, if I’m lucky, observe some wildlife (or even a neighbor’s cat) cruising my backyard. I can even come out here in the middle of the night, when I really can’t see the trees or watch the water in the creek go by. But I can look straight up and see the universe of stars and planets shining crystal clear in the pitch black sky.

Once I met a man in front of Albertson’s who was trying to get people to sign various petitions. I stopped to chat with him for a few minutes. I don’t know how he knew that I needed to hear a little bit of his dime-store philosophy, but I’ll never forget what he told me that day. He said that I needed to talk to the universe—that I should go out on my porch at night and look up into the sky and tell the universe what I want, and the universe would listen and respond. Have I started to do this? Not yet. But when I have such a natural altar as my mom’s deck under my feet, I would be doing a disservice to myself and to the universe if I didn’t take advantage of it by beginning a regular dialogue out here.

---

When I awoke this morning from my dream, the first word out of my mouth was “F***!” Exclamation point! I’m really trying to shake F., but I am obviously not over him yet. However, the dream tells me that subconsciously I’m ready to move on. In my dream, I was at his house. I had apparently been staying at his place for a few days, but I was leaving for a trip somewhere, and was in the middle of packing my bags. I was in a hurry, and asked him to call me a cab. I was frantically getting my things in order. He came back and said the cab was on its way. He came close and then touched my waist and kissed me. I can’t deny that I enjoyed it but, even in my dream, I knew it wasn’t right. I told him so, and told him to stop. And he did. Then the cab arrived, I said goodbye and thank you and I left.

---

The crickets are chirping.

love

This morning I woke with the duet by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell “You’re All I Need to Get By” on my mind. I haven’t really thought about that song in years. It was the song I always wanted for the first dance at the wedding I imagined with R. To me, the lyrics symbolize everything I imagine a true partnership to be about. “Darling in you I’ve found/Strength where I was torn down/Don’t know what’s in store/But together we can open any door!” The lyrics speak of being able to take the great leap of faith into the future that life holds with someone else, and it implies that the couple wouldn’t want to go into the future without each other. I remember when I was listening to that song when I was with R., I had to pick up the phone and leave the song playing on his answering machine: “I took one look at you/And it was plain to see/You are my destiny!” What’s crazy is that I really felt that way about him. I felt like all of my paths in life led me to being with him, and I imagined such a beautiful union and so many possibilities. This reminds me of another song, by Martha Griffiths, that speaks of love. But instead of lyrics teeming with idealism and faith, she sings of how love can betray and kill your "magic dreams." “Sweet Bitter Love/Why have you awakened/And then forsaken/A trusting heart/Like mine…” Since R., I have not met another man, not even A., that I can honestly sing those trusting, hopeful, idealistic words of the great Marvin Gaye, “You’re all I need to get by!” Since R., probably because of R., I've been singing the bittersweet melodies of Martha Griffiths.

I also want to write about sex and affection. I love experimenting physically with men. I love the way two sets of lips unite in one kiss, and the playful experimentation of that initial union. You never know how you'll react to a person until you kiss him, or until you have to say goodbye as well. I guess what I want to say about sex and affection is this: both are fun and enjoyable activities, but both don't even hold a candle to true love, especially when you're trying to hold on to the faithful idealism that true love exists.