Sabbath Schedule

Yesterday I:

-ate a PBCJ (peanut butter chocolate jelly french toast sandwich), papaya mango smoothie, burrito (con todo), and chocolate cake. In that order.

-wore cowboy boots and a 'Word Up' tshirt (def: 'I concur that you are correct, my good brother').

-attempted to bail my DUI sibling out. Used a bondsman's business card that said 'god forbid but just in case,' and solemnly told a policeman the sibling's license plate number: 'ONO50'.

-had an impromptu shower scene with my girl friend. If there was a camera involved, we'd have a side business right now (but it was very, very clean).

-realized anew that men actually feel bigger the smaller they make the girl feel. (being a hetero and all, what the fuck am I going to do about this?)

-shared a proverbial mutual thumb-sucking session with the people who make it all OK in the end. (thanks matthew and jah)

-put out the xmas lights, turned on the fan, and curled up under the stairs for 7 hours of solid sleep.

The End. (I should write memoir screenplays, I know)

Size Matters

Scientists have found that in bat species with promiscuous females, male bats have larger testes and smaller brains, compared to in bat species with monogamous females, where male bats have smaller testes but larger brains, the AP reported earlier this week.

"The male who ejaculates the greatest number of sperm wins the game, and hence many bats have evolved outrageously big testes," says this biologist dude.

C'mon human males, get in the balls-game! I wanna play!

Loneliness is necessary for greatness. Greatness is the realization of a human being's full potential. The realization of full potential is truly living. And to truly live is to commit to a heightened, uncompromising awareness. For life.

But, truly living or not, we can't have it all. For to defy conditioning, to avoid apathy, is to choose to not accept. To not accept is to miss out on giving unconditional love. But unconditional love is given without expectations. And to have no expectations is to invite abuse.

So. Loneliness. Is necessary. You can't find love - the love that's real and lasting and deserved and free - without it.

Or not. That's the beauty of it.

Nothing is set in stone. Except for change.

PS In retrospect, in pre-emption of possible charges, I plead wandering insanity with a smidgen of rationale.

YUM

Oh, and I have to admit, after seeing Mr. Eko's hot-ass drug dealer past, I considered switching my loyalties to him from Sawyer, the first dude (until Eko!) in entertainment I've ever obsessed over. Looove the corn-rows, Eko. Love the corn-rows.

Lost is Hot

I've never gotten into a TV show before, but 'Lost' has found me.
Last night's long-awaited episode? Oh my! I've never felt that look on my face before; one of thrilled, trembling incredulity. And the same expression was frozen on my 2 roommate's faces.
Here's a dope-ass speculation I found on what that dark cloud was all about:

"The "monster" is compressed dark matter, the "living" -- in so far as its sentient and has form -- product of a scientific experiment. It communicates through the computer and is embodied in the black cloud. Dark matter is supposed to effect gravity, so it would be able to suck people into the air just by coming into contact -- or near contact -- with them, as was the case with the pilot. It supposedly changes the rotational pattern of galaxies, so it would explain the unlikely isolation of the island, the fact that compasses don't work (or do, and the sun is rising and setting in the wrong place). Through the entering of the numerical sequence into the computer, the dark matter is kept compressed. If the numbers don't get entered, the dark matter expands into a black hole, and goodbye galaxy."

Rambling Quotables

My boss is a former successful actress turned screenwriter. She has enough interesting opinions to keep me showing up as her assistant everyday. And her gung-ho survivor artist mentality certainly is encouraging. Here's a few from today; the first one really resonates:

"Quote for Life: they’ll always take from the one who’s already crying."

"To learn to survive on your own is to truly love life. because you can’t really live if you’re always under someone’s boot."

"I’ve always wanted to be a gypsy. I wanted to be the woman with the knife in my boot."

"I could see myself dressing up, doing every fucking thing I knew, to guarantee that I was not at the bottom of the pile."

"Almost all writing is pornography. jerk off, get you through it, haha, got your money. And they know damn well that’s what they’re doing."

"To truly write is to be insane. It's a crapshoot. A shot in the dark. And you have to go to bed every night with the world running through your head."

Future

I think I'm going to apply to Berkeley and Stanford law school next fall. Ideally, Harvard if my novel does well.
Why do I feel like this move would be a weak-ass sell-out? Doing what everyone looks up to as a definitive form of accomplishment, instead of holding my head high and believing in an art, someday in a far future to be manifested, that currently only I can see.
For some reason, I love making things as hard as possible on myself. Being a struggling artist is so damn punishing.
At the same time, potential liberation from a world solely committed to solitude and hyper-contemplation (aka novel-writing) feels pretty damn good.
I think I'll just do both.
One step at a time.

Excerpt from review of a recently released memoir:

"My Fundamentalist Education" , a 'memoir of a divine girlhood' promises a glimpse into a world we soy latte addicts don't understand but can no longer dismiss. Controversy about evolution, Christian blockbusters in Hollywood, a president who speaks in biblical code: Christianity is hot, and Rosen's background is, suddenly, marketable. With her intelligence and tongue-in-cheek tone, she comes across as the ideal liaison: a former insider who will explain fundamentalism while allowing us to chuckle at it

Yay! My novel's topic is hot! (duh, look at the world around us right now)
I just need to finish the damn thing. Like, yesterday.

Title ideas, anybody? The more sensationalist the better.
hmm. How about 'My Sexual Fantasies about Jesus...'? I was in training to be 'the Bride of Christ,' after all...

Driving home from San Francisco

I feel skittish and overwhelmed with emotion.
Scared of my future yet ecstatically hopeful.
Feels like colors, musical notes, cool and hot winds are running thru me.
My skin tingles. It feels alive, a separate entity, ready to leap ahead of me, into the dark road ahead.
There's light on the horizon and raindrops on the windshield. Promise hovering in the headlight beams.
The sky reaches down to whisper a secret:
Nothing matters in the end but human connection.
Love is forever.
It stands alone, the most solid thing in a fleeting vapor of material existence.

It's a New Year.