Tails of a 17th Street Geisha

A QUESTION FOR EVERYBODY: do you date/fuck/associate with people who you already know are not good relationship material because you don’t *really* want a relationship?

I’ve been avoiding relationships and at one point and for several years was drowning my life in gay men and alcohol. I believe that now, my behavior is closer to healthy, but I’m still picking guys who are too far for a relationship to work. Why am I so freaking scared of the opposite sex? Recently, I’ve been fine having sex with the ones I absolutely KNOW I’m not going to have a relationship wiht

Have you ever been through a really angry phase in your life? Are you going through one currently?

I remember when I had this really bad job when I was working in Los Angeles last year and boy, I was going through such hell. My boss was a TOTAL AND COMPLETE ASSHOLE and she completely took advantage of me and everyone else in the office. I worked 70 hours a week, was made to feel as though it wasn’t enough work that I was accomplishing, and when you do the math on my salary (no overtime) with the hours I put in, was making less than a McDonald’s worker.  I wasn’t working a minimum wage job–I was working at a non-profit based out of BEVERLY HILLS and my commitment to the cause would have been questioned if I didn’t work late enough, hard enough…

It was such a nightmare and the only reason I knew that I was going through this angry phase was that in retrospect, I would slap and beat up random people in the streets when I was drunk. I remember crossing the street and just slapping the face of this innocent guy who was walking passed me in the opposite direction. I remember throwing my hand bag in the direction of these guys sitting at the couch in the Abbey bar in West Hollywood, throwin it so fast, like it was a baseball…

It’s weird that my drunken behavior sheds light into my very essence the core attitudes and emotional phases that I go through. That my real emotions are so hidden from even myself that it takes a date with Sam Adams to bring it out.

Oh, counseling… I just can’t wait to see a shrink.

I never hit Publish now, so this is a bit old, but took the time to write it so here goes:

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I haven’t written in a diary in ages. Tonight I’m actually writing on my laptop that Helen Cho gave me when I was in need. This is the first entry in my new electronic diary—no more dilly dallying with silly paper diary books. More importantly than writing to you from the laptop, I am writing to you from my first second part-time job ever in my life. I have never been able to commit to doing anything “extra” in life than what is required of me. I really shirk responsibility consciously. When I don’t realize it, I may take on extra things in life, but nothing that I can’t back away from on a whim and especially at the last minute.

Looking back on it, I used to aspire to more in life. Before I cared about the opinions of others—no wait, that’s not right. I was thinking about the time that I was a child and tried to do extra things with my time—learn to dance, get into science (loved looking at the stars and into microscopes) –still, I did care about what people thought of me.

At the time, I didn’t care so much about my peers but about authority: mom, older sisters (not really), but above all—my teachers. People use to think that I was teacher’s pet because I tried so hard to please. I didn’t think it was so much to actually complete your assignments on time and with gusto. Somehow, something went wrong and I stopped caring about the teachers and assignments.

Wow. I just had to stop writing this because of 2 things: returning Peeper’s call and calling the cops on this guy who looked like the DC Laundry Room rapist—how funny! Turns out that the rapist was arrested in New Jersey two weeks ago! Oh well. At least I found a way to kill a half hour.

Okay. What was I saying? Oh yeah—when did I stop being ambitious? Why did I stop being ambitious? I notice that when I first undertake projects, I start with a lot of steam and eventually simmer down. Perhaps the first couple of years of my life marked the “steam” phase one of my education. The only thing consistent in my life—that the passion has been unwavering—is my passion for music/dance/entertaining. Now it manifests itself in a growing CD collection—I know, pretty lame. I wish I had more to account for this passion. I also have a passion (obsession?) for men, sex, and appearances—but I was trained to think like this, I think. As a woman, these are the ultimate things in life to care about. I really wish I had a passion for grammar and proper punctuation.

Writing this is so embarrassing. Oddly enough, I used to have a passion for spelling! Now that’s thrown out the window, the only thing I have for this brief phase in my youth is a memory of becoming the second place best speller in the second grade—Eddie Suh? Was that his name? I was so nervous because Shawn Buffington, one grade older (and with a Mohawk!), who was also the love of my life at the time, came into the assembly room with all the other kids in the 1-3 grade half of the elementary, and I was SO nervous. I found myself fumbling with the spelling of the word “easy” EASY! E-A-C… E-A-…S? E-A-C-Y. Easy. FUUUUUUCK! That came out of a girl who knew how to spell soldier and other such complicated words. Easy? Fuck! It haunts me still.

New thought:

At the beginning of this entry, I thought that I hadn’t written in my journal for ages, but POPPY-COCK and oi oi OI! Indeed, I have been keeping a diary of sorts. Each email I’ve written to my british lover boy, my “British Pen-pal”—which is what most of my friends know him by—has been an assortment of my thoughts and the goings-on in my life, like a diary. You know, the thought just hit me—there’s something special about looking back at your diary books and seeing how your writing has changed. Perhaps my writing hasn’t changed much over time, but one big negative about this hear “electronic” diary is that I won’t be able to see this difference and change over time. The only thing I will see with an electronic version are the spelling errors.

Anyway, long story short: my daily emails to Andreas can serve as a journal entry. Perhaps I should copy/paste into this here diary!? Aha! Another plus for internet/electronic technology. This job sucks. It feels like an eternity and I’m only an hour into my shift. I hate skinny people. Just thought I would throw that in as I watch a skinny white bitch, er tenant, leave the building with two cute boys. At least I’m not white.

Oh and another random thought—ABC news (perhaps not a news story?) is showing a huge half hour special on this one Muslim comedian who isn’t that funny. I hear him give his routine and find funnier punch lines and more hilarious jokes. He says he gets people acting all strange around him at airports, punch line: these dudes are like, laughing and say ‘hey man, funny thing, I thought you were going to kill us all”. FLAT. MY punch line: I hate going on flights, I get jumped every time I do everything. It’s like “leave me alone, man. I’m just trying to tie my shoelaces. BACK off!” What do you think? Am I just as lame as this mofo. You know, it’s all about the delivery too. A lot of attitude goes a long long way.

Shit. I gotta take a dump. Signing out from utter boredom on a Friday night. Clocking out at 12:02am. Oh, and this is definitely going in my friendster blog!

Can straight men and women JUST be friends? 

Let’s say that they are both single, both get along, both attracted to each other. What’s stopping them from trying? Is the only reason that a straight man and woman are not in a relationship is because there’s something stopping them from being in one. LIKE:

1) one person is not attractive to the other

2) one is in a relationship

3) one is not deemed "relationship" materials

What I want to know is–if I see a straight man with a straight girl as a friend, AND SHE COULD POTENTIALLY BE A GIRLFRIEND OR FUCK, is he her friend *just* for the potential of having her as a gf or fuck?

Just curious.

I’m trying my hardest not to go out and get drunk. I haven’t gotten drunk in a while. My problem is that alcohol makes me stop worrying about what people think about my body and I have serious issues. Another problem is that when I get drunk (like most people) I get really friendly and I really don’t need a one night stand. Actually, I need two one night stands (and a desk, platform bed frame, and a desk–but I’ll go to Ikea soon enough).

SO my sister is visiting me from

Texas

. We’re going to see a Duran Duran concert on April 8th and I’m totally excited about it. I’ll make fake passes and try to sneak us in. I’m also counting on a work friend to perhaps hook us up because her hubby used to work in the concert venue industry and has a lot of friends. who knows, don’t want to jinx it.

Oh, so I got a computer of my own today. No more typing on Roz’s (which I’m doing at the moment until I get internet).

Do I avoid talking about real issues by only discussing topics about my condo and buying things? Am I a capitalist bitch like everybody else? Do I tear through the newspaper only to secretly want to look at the circulars and ads first, instead of the front page.

To be honest with you I AM SICK OF THE GODDAMNED SCHIAVO FAMILY. I’m sick of the right-wing right-to-life hijacking this and every other fucking issue. THANK GOD BUSH’S APPROVAL RATING IS AT THE LOWEST SINCE HE STOLE, I MEAN, TOOK OFFICE IN 2001. Fucker. Fuckety fuck fuck. I’m angry. Oh Yoda, I know that anger leads to hate and eventually to the dark side (and you know you don’t want to go there or you’ll look all wrinkly and crotchety like the goddamned emperor and your fate will end up being tossed into an abyss by a backstabbing Vader) where was I? Oh yeah, so anger is bad, BUT GOD IT FEELS GOOD.

Did you know that Mercury is in retrograde? So yeah, I believe in this shit. For anyone rolling their eyes–FUCK YOU. Anyway, what this means is that life is going to suck the big one until April 12th. People will misinterpret what you say, you’ll have to repeat yourself because of that or explain yourself further, and life is overall, gonna suck.

Speaking of being misheard.  A coworker misinterpreted what I said at a meeting and now hates me. True, I accept responsibility and own up to the fact that I came off accusatory and hostile, but I didn’t mean it. Now I have to apologize profusely for something that I didn’t think was mean, but I’ll apologize because I hurt her feelings and want us to be friends again. Aaaaah. Fuck mercury in retrograde…

I haven’t been on this thing for the last 3 weeks and SHA-ZAM–there be comments on my blog!

I want to thank and respond to each comment (how tacky is that?) but heck, you spent a second reading so I give you some time for a shout out:

Shout out to Dhebbz who, inspite being angry at me for being the first to take “Debbie” as a blog name, still gave props to my blog. *ps* your kids are cute.

Zac- I did clean my place up. Now to get furniture! I’ll post pics or something. And what’s up with your picture? What’s up with that shoe?

Huyesin–I bet you didn’t even read my blog. Dude, your post is like every single message I get from dudes in Singapore and stuff. What gives? I’m not flying out there to fuck, so what’s the point? Seriously. You need to marry someone to get into the US? I only marry illegal homos (seriously, I’ll post about it later)

Robert– Your baby is cute and don’t you just love a day time concert at the Hollywood bowl? I do. I used to live in Los Angeles (Miracle Mile or Farmer’s Market, 6th and Wilshire) So much to do, but hate Los Angeles. I got an eating disorder before I even stepped out of LAX–sheesh. By the end of my year there I was planning on how to save money for plastic surgery. Of course, I *was* working in Beverly Hills.

Rithvik–Good luck with the girls, have fun with the frat (although I hate frat culture, something difference about cultural ones–if they don’t charge) and IND fo-eva (ha!)

Ugly Ducking–No you’re not! Unless you were once in the past and now are the swan. Dude–you’re hot. I don’t understand your profile but it seems poetic and a bit hostile.

I’m going to save my response to Michael who tore me a new asshole about being a loser, but I have got some choice words for him… HA!

"If you are sitting home drunk and stoned typing on a computer, then you can be clearly defined as a loser. however, there is a cure for your disease…all you must do is get off your ass and do something productive for a change. maybe instead of buying beer and pot you could buy a new pair of shoes to wear out to the club, or if dancing isn’t your scene, you could buy a little art and craft kit from walmart. pretty much what im saying is anything is better than doing drugs and typing by yourself on a computer"

Posted by: michael | March 24, 2005 01:40 AM Cheech and Chong—UP IN SMOKE?

AW FUCK IT: Michael–I *do* get shoes and go clubbing. I do a lot more than drink and blaze up, so please don’t judge me on what I do for less than 5 % of my time in life. Also, you shouldn’t hate pot and alcohol if you LOVE Cheech and Chong "Up in Smoke." (caveat: pot is fun if you don’t let it erase away all your ambitions.) Thanks for the advice, but I don’t think that the 5 seconds I spend on the computer after a night of clubbing and partying puts me in the loser category. Look at my profile, asshole. You’ll see I’ve got a lot more going on than that.

Oh, and by the way, you must stream music from Epitonic.com. It’s free, it easy, and you can appease your ADHD tendencies by listening to different tracks from various bands, in various genres–ALL AD FREE! It’s almost as wonderful as NPR’s Morning Becomes Eclectic.

Last night I got stoned and wasted with Peepers (David Fooks-like-Books) and Plib (Paul G). They tried really hard to drag me out of the house so I can finally get laid–but you know, I just don’t put out for no one!

The reality was, I kicked them out of my house because I got a call from the West Virginian–and I was ready for it. I didn’t go to bed until 3am–this is the third night in the row that I had a late night convo with the act-for-love lover. Do you get the gist? Aargh, but he wants to meet up, and I have some reservations–I’m sure it will be a wonderful weekend of hooking up and fun romping, but do I really trust this guy to not be crazy? I tend to attract the weirdos, and I really don’t know anything about him save that he can get me really revved up within minutes of a brief, late night conversation!

So, I’m typing this, DRUNK off my ass. At ROz’s house. She’s out to dinner with her F-to-M friend "Alex" and I’m checknig email and getting ready to take a disco nap before going to Nathan’s and then later to Wonderland Bar. Maybe I will run into Mike? I bet I scared him with my super long message about where I’ll be this weekend when he had only asked if I wanted to hang out and what my plans were!

F*ck it. I’m drunk. Warm. Happy. The cat is happy. I’m tired. I’m off to finish painting my condo (I painted all of the walls green and brown with the help of the ever coolio, she of the brownie weekend, Wendy, http://www.friendster.com/user.php?uid=232835.

Tomorrow morning I’ll do bills, sober up, cook meals for the week’s lunch, organize my closet, get high with Domingo, and do some work so I can stay out late at Taint. I need to get laid.