heathervescent

you can have it all

you just can't have it all at the same time.

Radio Success

I had a really great time DJing on Theory Radio last night. I arrived all hurried and rushed and worried and somewhat scared. Would I be able to do the handoff? How do I kick the stream? Would I remember all the mixer slides? Therm stopped me after about 2 minutes and said, you know, you don't have worry about starting on time, it's on robo. Doh, I knew that, but for some reason I stepped right back into my radio persona. I started out the set with a nice mix of electronica: orbital, plone, some classic fripp and eno (which lead us to come up with a new nickname for a resident of Theory Labs Eno: Frippin Eno!) Then it was time for my first break. I put the headphones on and hit the mike mute button and started to talk. I was shy (it has been years since I spoke on the radio) and then started to remember it all and the radio voice came out. The only comment I got was that I sounded like a "real" DJ and my level of professionalism was going to raise the bar and if that's the case then I couldn't DJ. By the end of the show I had repented. Here's what Therm had to say:

For the record, Heathervescence got off to a bit of a rocky start with her show - she transitioned smoothly between songs, announced everything played, and was cool and confident when speaking - but by the end of the 3 hours she was thoroughly indoctrinated into "the Theory Way": Saying she'd played "something else, I forget what", not having songs queued up in time, hesitantly announcing what she was about to play and then
playing something else entirely, and so on.

Fear not, fellow DJs, we have successfully prevented the bar from being raised.

Anyway, I'm going to work on getting a regular show and until then I'll fill in and probably join Lucky Dave on a couple of his shows. I'll keep y'all updated and post shows as I know they happen. Rock on!

when all else fails...

Phuket.

breaking news

I'm Djing on Theory Radio at 7pm tonight. Check in.

on a lighter note

What's up with these night song birds and all the skunks?

RANT: on patience and persistence

I am very upset about some things. A few days ago I was happy to be who I am. Today, I want to kill myself so as to not ever have to interact with .....idiots.... ever again.

I used to think I was not patient. I know I am very persistent. I know how to stay focused. I know how to get things done. I get them done. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. I like to give people the chance to do what they say they will do. I say my word and keep it, I _expect_ the same of others.

This is a fallacy. And I need to learn it.

Many people do not keep their word. Many people forget from one day to the next. If you expect someone to do what they say they will do, prepare to be disappointed. From returning a couple books you borrowed 6 months ago, to moving out, to a cube with a window. I have been patient. I have been waiting for people to do what they say they will - but they don't. Maybe they forget. Maybe they procrastinate. They just don't do what they say they will. So I get upset. I get REALLY upset. And I take it out on myself. Why do these people expect you to keep your side of the bargain or at least act civilly, when they have not kept their side of the agreement? This is what makes me want to cease to live. This is what makes me want to kill myself. Remove myself from this world so as to never have to interact with these selfish centered fucks.

I want to give people the benefit of the doubt, but I am disappointed over and over and over. It's all talk. It's all to calm you down. I'm not asking for much: the return of my books, time spent with you when you're available, money that supports my talents (and the ability to use them) and a work environment that does not suck my soul. But obviously that is too much to ask for. It's more important to sit around and watch TV, to order lunch for the executives, to "pretend" you are part of a life that you're really not. And it's "inappropriate" or "an outburst" or "emotional" to express anger, or sadness about it, because, "Heather, you're just going to have to get over it."

I'm disappointed with my fellow humans. I expected more of them. I expected them to do what they said they would. I'm sad they failed, because in their failing, they have shattered my worldview, which is upsetting.

I've realized I'm extremely patient. I wait until I am over my edge to let someone do what they say they will. I attempt to remedy the problem before it becomes a problem for me to no avail. But I'm not quiet. I don't let you forget. I remind you of the things you said to me. I'm persistent in the patience.

return to radio

Last night I joined Lucky Dave of Theory Radio on his show. It was like walking into a memory when I arrived at Theory Labs Radio studio in the Brewery. CDs, electronic equipment, a boom mike, mixers, all things I know and love, with an addition - the Internet and computers. When I did radio about 10 years ago the Internet was just beginning to be know in my college set and although I had an account and a web page, the station didn't do much with it. I originally started using a web page to post my top 10s of my radio show to CMJ about 11-12 years ago. Coding in typepad and uploading files manually. Ah, the good old days of monochromatic monitors.

Anyway, I had a great time hanging out, talking on the radio and helping pick out songs. It felt great to be back and I'm hoping to be "on air" more in the future.

fun with your eyes

From Gprime

SRL, Vegas, Desert, Future party photos

I've finally gotten around to posting a couple photo albums. New are:

Future Housewarming
Suzanna and Heather in Mojave Desert and Joshua Tree (includes fashion dress up)
and some pictures of us in Vegas by the pool. The water was freaky cold.

Still I need to post my video of the SRL show I attended. I'm in this picture by Scott Beale. (I'm looking directly at the camera, wearing a black jacket and about 2 people back from the guy in Orange - next to Pinky and behind the two asian women.)

I got some kick ass video and need to post it somewhere. I gave it to Karen Marcelo, an old colleague from the VRML days, who will eventually post it to the SRL site. Until that happens, enjoy these pictures.

get in line lil doggies!

If you like the skirt, you should buy some stuff from Da Lata Designs.

Las Vegas. Verdant Fields.

Suz and I spent the day yesterday tooling through the desert. We sped down the 10s carpool lane with the top down, blonde hair blowing in the wind. Heated seats blasting as we observed the snow capped Mt Baldy and Big Bear sky areas. The wind blew most of the trucks and huge-ass SUVs all over the 4 then 3 then 2 lane freeway. We watched it blow the powder on the top of the mountain and then sweep down the side only to be caught in the electrical windmills. So much for that long haul across the Colorado and Mojave.

We headed north to Yucca Valley. I wanted to do a drive by of Joshua Tree. I've been holding my horses to get out to the desert and it's finally paying off. I'll spend 3 weekends out here in the next month. Enough to get my fix, but still I dream of a big old crusty 4x4 with high clearance to visit a certain special place.

Before entering the park we stopped at my favorite internet cafe in the world - the Beatnik cafe in Joshua Tree. We tanked up on espresso drinks and I attempted to write a blog entry (that apparently did not get posted.)

Then it was the winding road. We stopped and climbed around on some rocks. We looked at the high peaks around the Salton Sea. My worldview started warping as I looked upon valley upon valley of Joshua Trees. They are so strange and wonderful and beautiful. The wildflowers were in full array. Near 29 Palms the desert floor was full of yellows and whites and some purples. I stopped in a wash and found a coyote melon, but decided not to take it, as I have never done anything with previous coyote melons.

Then it was the long winding road to Vegas, baby. I took a wrong turn (only noted until much much later) and we headed straight east out of 29 Palms. It was time for top speed testing. Well, not really. I'm sure the saab didn't hit her top speed, but there is only so fast I will go. The road was empty. The desert silent and gorgeous. We skirted the southern edge of the Old Women Mts and I saw Danby Lake. We found a burned out gas station with cars upon appliances upon a skeedoo smashed and trashed and burned up. We stopped and played desert dress up donning high heels, ribbons, lace and rhinestones. Yes, there will be pictures uploaded.

We jellybeaned big rigs on 95 making good time in the black bubble of my car, the desert lights falling and red and purple yellow highlights on the mountains as we made our way to the city of lights. A split second through Searchlight and a memory. The dream. The desert.

Unlike any other time I have visited Vegas, I have left my disgust of consumption and consumer culture somewhere. Why bother despising the place. I get no value out of that. As we drive down the strip looking for our Hotel's entrance, I am amazed. Yes, in these facades there is enlightenment. It's truly amazing that Las Vegas has become what it is.

what did they expect?

Newsweek has an article about how the recent blogger attendees to the Harvard blog conference were mostly male. To that I say DOH! The Harvard conference was invite-only and of course the largest boys club would invite mostly males to their conference. Where and how did they do their research?

Newsweek is completely off, as well as Harvard in their conference. I don't think any of the bloggers I frequent were included in the invite. My blogroll and the blogs I read are more than 50% women. I would suggest a poll be done at some of the open blogger conferences and communities and see how that compares with the Harvard sample.

Grrr... the more you perpetuate the male boys club worldview, the longer it will persist.

reminder on risk

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." ~ Mark Twain

This is very appropriate as I think about the things I am not so excited about and new possibilities for life. It's a reminder to take risks and jump long and far and to not cut short my dreams.

New List: Mash-ups

I've enjoyed mashups for a while and recently thanks to Theory Radio found a slew a links. They've been added to the side of my blog. Check out the links, and be sure to check out Theory Radio. I think I have a crunch on one of the DJs....

have I done enough?

I've spent the late morning and afternoon purging more paper. Letters and cards and poetry and more love letters. Comments and observations on Heather from other people, friends, lovers, those already dead. I know how people see me. It's simply reflected in the question that Tom asked me at the housewarming: "So what do you do? ... I'm interested to know what someone who has the energy you have does." I paused, because I didn't like what I would usually say, which is a diatribe about building internet tech products. Because my job description just did/does not stand up to what I think someone like me should be doing. But if I twist it, I'm an inventor, a visionary, a dreamer, an actor, and all. I get paid to create, define, execute. That sounds a lot more interesting than Senior Product Manager.

Some thoughts on _Blink_ by Malcolm Gladwell

I've been reading _Blink_ by Malcolm Gladwell the past week. It's a fascinating read and I can't even attempt to provide a synopsis. So many concepts have already been explored. The main focus is the split-second decisions, where and how we make them and when they work.

I've just finished reading the chapter on Market Research. Talking about the Pepsi challenge, the Aeron chair, food tasters. A sentence resonates with me, p 175. Gladwell is talking about when traditional Market Research fails to provide an accurate estimate of the audience's response to a new product.

... Market research isn't always wrong, of course. If All in the Family had been more traditional -- and if the Aeron had been a minor variation on the chair that came before it -- the act of measuring consumer reactions would not have been nearly as difficult. But testing products or ideas that are truly revolutionary is another matter, and the most successful companies are those that understand that in those cases, the first impressions of their consumers need interpretation. We like market research because it provides certainty -- a score, a prediction; if someone asks us why we made the decision we did, we can point to a number. But the truth is that for the most important decisions, there can be no certainty. ...[I]t is the new and different that is always most vulnerable to market research.

This reminds me of some Guy Kawasaki books I've read. And makes me think more on the nature of what I do in my job with technology and the difficulties I've had and the despair I feel at certain times.

To be successful at new and innovative projects, ideas, innovations, one must have additional energy, drive, focus and internal strength... one something could call ego - ergo my previous post.

newfound respect for the ego

A few weeks ago when I was carpooling with Erika she mentioned her view of the ego. My understanding of what she said is that the ego serves only yourself. It gives you the support to do the things you want to do when anyone else (and the world) is telling you otherwise. It gives you internal strength and confidence to what YOU personally want. It's not negative at all. The ego is for your eyes only.

It was interesting to hear and think about. And it's been on my mind ever since. It's true, the ego does support yourself. When you are not thinking about anyone else and your ego expands to be your all encompassing view, the ego gets a negative connotation, it's no longer self-serving, it's expecting to be served. Thinking about this this way, made me realize how much negativity I have fixated on "the ego" and my ego and trying to become egoless or egopowerless. This is because when the ego expresses itself to others others have no interest in it. This frustrates ego and people act or react differently to this.

There is such a sense of freshness and release to have respect for my ego. To think about its positive position. To know that it can live and direct my life, without having to be a center of attention to others, or even be known to others. That gives me internal strength, fire, drive and confidence. Second guessing is the validation of my ego. This is an oxy-moron and something I struggle to overcome. Validation does nothing for the ego except usurp its power. I'm done with that.

11:11 and all your dreams come true

it's synchronicity at it again. it's easy to project in various directions. to see possibilities. but a reminder, to be curious and not afraid is good advice.

but I'm impatient. I'm demanding. and damn it, I'm worth it too. time to focus on what I want and be more specific and open at the same time to the unknown.

11:11 - all my dreams come true.

energy and trouble

can too much energy get you in trouble? I pose this question to you my readers and friends? As well as pose it to myself. Has my energy ever gotten me into trouble? I think not, if anything, it has allowed for me to do much much more with less issues and trouble. Granted, the net trouble may be more but the net activity is also much more - and not just proportionately.

Got my skin back

It's taken longer and cost more and I sat through much traffic and broke all my driving habits, but she's back. Today Erika and I rocked out to Basement Jaxx and ZZ Top at high speeds on the LA freeways. Left leg and right hand were back in syncronicity action with shifting. The sweet butter clutch. It took me about 5 minutes to get used to her low seat, center key and window controls again. It was interesting to listen to the CDs I left in the changer and haven't heard for 6 weeks. It's good to break habits. I can't wait for the sun to come out and take her top down. Wind blowing back in my hair, sun in my eyes, happiness on my face again.

Everything is turning around. It's also spring. Always the darkness just before the dawn, ne?

please go out with my friend

She is one of the totally coolest people I know. Don't be intimidated by her 6 tallness - she has great legs. (I was intimidated by her at first.) Don't worry that she has more power than you just because she rides killer motorcycles. (Her bikes kick my mere Lady Knight's dual side exhaust.) She's a fashion plate, but don't worry she has great taste. If I were a black man over 6 feet tall, I would sweep pinky off her feet and take her to a far away place where she wouldn't be able to celebrate 35 years of kicking ass with her friends. That's ok. That's good. Because I would be very sad if that man existed to steal Pinky #1 away from Pinky #2. But if you do exist - you are a hot black man, taller than 6 feet tall, be incredibly smart, sexy, mature, willing to commit and living in the greater Los Angeles area, please go out with my friend. But wait until after this weekend to ask her out. PS. Pinky, this is payback for the hot asian waiter you introduced me to!

abandon hope all ye who enter the future

It was a fun party. The guest surprise author was Tom Robbins, the  non suprise authors were Gloria and Franco. There was vodka, chocolate pots du Creme for pinky. There was a rubix cube champion and a kinky girlfriend. Tom fell in love with my ribbon coat. I made him wear it with a feather boa and gave him a dinosaur spark gun. Lars came and was distracted from solving the cube by a friend's girlfriend. I have photos. It was entertaining to say the least. It was a good housewarming. I have great neighbors.

Amazing new friends (at least I hope they want to be friends with me). If life is like this in the future, I'm glad I live here.

I'll post the whole album soon.

Just so you know, it wasn't all party games. I was busy filling my brain with character analysis only to spend the next day crunching it. More on that later too.

LA Fashion Week pics

It was a week ago, but only just getting the pics posted. More photos coming shortly of the fabulous housewarming on Saturday.

That's Suz and I in our fashion delights and then there's me hanging out on the earthquake retrofitting in 3 in heels and corset.

Get down to David Bowie and don't smile! ;)

biwana bollywood, LA freeways and glass

I love driving on the greater LA freeways. I have a passion for pavement (actually ribbed concrete is my favorite in the car, fresh blacktop on the moto - that sounds strangely sexual, and I guess it is). It was foggy/hazy when I awoke Sat morning. I planned to spend some quality time on some new to me freeways. Jetted out to Riverside via 134/210/91/10/15. I love the interchange from the 10 to the 15. I find freeway overpasses completely and utterly erotic. The curves and my knowledge of centrifugal force. The stacked criss-crossing curves often many many stories high.

One of my dreams is to have the LA freeways completely to myself to drive on them where ever I want, as fast as I want, in any car that I want. In your dreams, heather!

Later I discovered the toll roads of orange county. This is the most amazing concept. I've been on some before, but this day, I found 241 - a gorgeous stretch. Pay to go on a road where there are less people. It's too bad that I can't drive as fast as I want. The scenery was gorgeous on 241. I was driving my Aunt's big truck blasting the biwana bollywood mix CD. I pulled up to the toll both manned by an Indian and he smiled as my open window poured forth a strange mix of music for a white girl in southern california to have.

Later I unpacked the boxes from my grandmother's house. I closed it up earlier this summer and unwrapped package upon package of antique glass. Etched, green, cut, frosted, goblets, platters, glasses, serving dishes. I unpack them and put them on display. Not many have broken. There are a lot. Many many more than I can use.

I thought I knew it all about California. It's the center of my universe. One day, when I am finished with my time here, I will leave and burn like the letter I burned a few weeks ago. Until then, I will love her streets, her crimes, her tall building, her shudders, her tears, her mind-transforming landscapes. There's no place I love better than here.

kiss with death

Sometimes I feel my death in an instant. I experience it viscerally as it happened in an alternate reality - a different possibility. Tonight it was as I turned onto San Fernando from the freeway. The car was hit sideways on the driver's side. I felt the blossoming and release. I thought about the last two documents I faxed today to my attorney and who would collect on my life insurance. I had no regret. I felt the anguish of someone who lost only because he fails to take action. I felt nothing.

It was a flash. A complete feeling and experience and I felt it's echo as I sped away into the darkness thinking I have lived those realities. They exist. However the one I experience now, typing this entry, is different. I've jumped up high and spun the wheel of fortune. I've made a deal with the devil, which is merely myself.

I am reminded of this deal, this difference, when I taste the sweet flowering of my death in my mouth. The blossoming sweetness. Armagura na minha boca. The broken mayonnaise jar on the white kitchen tile. Blood in another country.

termites, construction, paint - oh my!

It's been an house busy weekend and still doesn't end. This weekend consisted of moving furniture, lots of quality time on LA freeways (more on that later), home construction, planning for painting, cleaning, messing it all up again, etc.

Today - Monday - Gloria and I have more stuff going on. She's at the house dealing the painters and our construction guy - who is really nice and does good work, but can't keep an appointment time for his life. Here's what she sent me earlier today.

I am completely impressed with both of us. We are about to go crazy insane and yet, no fight between us, no harsh or bad words. We're working together, knowing we're stressed yet not taking it out on each other - which is an amazing situation in itself. We are kick-ass women. ;)

Anyway, we've decided that new and current boyfriends will have to pass the Heather and Gloria Future home test. Which basically means they must be handy and be available to help us with manly home improvement. Like pulling down the tree, digging a hole for the fountain, painting the eaves, drywalling the garage, building shelves, etc. We have a whole list of projects for your potentials. But stay potentials for the time being.

In the meantime, enjoy the show that is our life! It just doesn't stop!

-------

12.10 p.m., phone call.
-Gloria, this is Ray. I'm so sorry, I was so tired last night and I overslept. is it ok if I come now?
-Sure, but come soon because the painters are waiting for you.
-I'll be there immediately.

12.40 p.m. The painters have just finished priming the three rooms. Now, they open the gallon of yellow paint and try a strip on the wall. Only, it's not the right yellow! One of them has to go back to the paint shop and return it, bring the right one back. No trace of Ray, the never-on-time handyman.

1.10 p.m. A never seen before guy shows up, and says "Ray sent me. What should I do?" This really starts to look interesting.

1.11 p.m. ray show up. two minutes after he takes his place "at work,",
-Gloria-he hollers from the stairway-do you have some plastic I can put on the floor for not making it dirty?-
-Sure, here's the plastic--aren't handymen supposed to carry that? well, whatever!

1.13 p.m,. -Gloria, i forgot some...
--I swear, at this point I don't even know what's the other piece he
needs to go get disappearing again--.

1.14 p.m  Now it's Melissa.
-Gloria, since it's now obvious I won't be able to paint the bathroom too today, can I come back tomorrow?-
-Wow. Not really, I just set two appointments tomorrow and I need to do a bunch of writing as well. Could you come eventually on Thursday?-

As soon as I say that, I think about how disappointed my roommate would be if her bathroom can't get done asap. Plus, Melissa is just hinting that she might not be don with the living room as well by tonight. Plus more, didn't I just set also the cleaning people plus the termites inspection, all on Thursday to keep my precious sanctuary on tracks? So:

-Well, Melissa, if you could be here tomorrow at 8 a.m.

Deal. Melissa will be here tomorrow. I'll just have to get the hell away from here and stay away until
they're done before going totally nuts.

Meanwhile, I am also thinking to book a suite in a nice (and expensive, and clean) hotel for me and
Heather so that all these people who need to work at our house on their own time don't get too disturbed by our presence and needs. As and added advantage, I might even get some work done at the hotel, without anybody hollering to me or asking me this and that every five minutes.

1.25 p.m. You know what? Now that everybody's here, I'm going to get out for a walk with my dog. Not very productive but surely stress-relieving. I'm sure they will survive without my reassuring and soothing --for their stress--presence.

not my city anymore

Earlier this week I spent a day in San Francisco. I walked the downtown streets I used to visit daily. I drove through the mission, parked in an old favorite garage and walked through a park I used to each lunch in almost every day. I got coffee at Peet's on Market - my first job was 2 blocks away and I used to step away for lunch at specialties. I got the same looks from random men on the street. Come ons muttered as I passed a bicyclist and crossed the street. I remembered my mindset, my objectives, my worldview of that time.

It was all different.

I experienced this city detached from myself. Detached from the person I was in the past. I'm different now. San Francisco is no longer my city. I felt no twing of remorse for not living there. I regretted nothing. I enjoyed my time remember many things. And at the same time felt so happy to have left. Happy to know that my home is Los Angeles. There is nothing that I own in this city. Happy also to have spent my last months in San Francisco in complete love and awe and cherishment of her wonders.

I realize, I never felt at home in the Bay Area. Sure, I made myself feel good, I was successful, found things I liked in the city with the people and my friends, I had an apartment, then a house, a boyfriend, then a marriage, a couple cats, a garden, a view of the bay area, but it was never home. Never had the cozy womblike comfort that Anthony Kiedes croons about in a red hot chili pepper ballad. I feel that feeling in Los Angeles. It makes me so happy to come home. Home to the Lost Angeles I love. To the city of my birth. Why did it take so long for me to realize this and return?

join em?

Maybe I'll become one of those ****** MBA types I have learned to despise.

died following his dream

Simon Milward and his Millennium Ride ended March 4th.

"On 1.1.2000 I left Western Europe to ride my handmade motorcycle around the world on a humanitarian mission. To date I have ridden 194,000km through 58 countries in Europe, the Middle East, South and East Asia, Australia, the Americas and Africa. Uganda is in the middle of Africa, I am heading West and North to Morocco from November 2004, from where I’ll cross to Spain, visit all of Europe and a part of the Middle East before arriving back to the UK around October 2005."

change is eternal

Turbulence is life force. It is opportunity. Let's love turbulence and use it for change. --Ramsay Clark

10 rules to live by

From Milton Glaser via Boing Boing

1. YOU CAN ONLY WORK FOR PEOPLE THAT YOU LIKE.
2. IF YOU HAVE A CHOICE NEVER HAVE A JOB.
3. SOME PEOPLE ARE TOXIC AVOID THEM.
4. PROFESSIONALISM IS NOT ENOUGH or THE GOOD IS THE ENEMY OF THE GREAT.
5. LESS IS NOT NECESSARILY MORE.
6. STYLE IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED.
7. HOW YOU LIVE CHANGES YOUR BRAIN.
8. DOUBT IS BETTER THAN CERTAINTY.
9. SOLVING THE PROBLEM IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN BEING RIGHT.
10. TELL THE TRUTH.

"Affection, trust and sharing some common ground is the only way good work         can be achieved. Otherwise it is a bitter and hopeless struggle."

demoralized

There's nothing more demoralizing than finding out some idiot at work has been promoted. So much for my work ethic and attempting to do novel and innovative stuff. No, I get to convince a bunch of super Conservative old men to change a few fucking pixels. Argh. Business is a man's world, and they should all be shot.

--/more Tuesday morning 7.08am\--

The thing the bothers me the most about this, is that the company I work for promoted this clueless mba type. That says more to me about the company I work for. The complete difficulty for women to be promoted and recognized. It's not just the men who are hard on women. Women are the worst critics of each other in work. (I realized this through my own self-observation after reading a HBR article.) It's another boys club. This says to me, there is no long term possibility for my success there. In actuality my short term success has been practically nothing because of their failure prone corporate structure. Some things are impossible regardless of the person.

I knew that, but seeing it again makes it difficult for me to endure the short time I must before moving on. I was hoping there was some possibility of stability, but it seems my stability is within myself only.  So I intend a new possibility. A path without topanga canyon boulders of obstacles, with amazingly smart people, who are fun, have a good time, work hard, work smart, have interesting lives - and change people's lives - not just figure out how to sell more crap or send opt-in "spam" to more people or coerce people to give personal information to sell to third parties all while copying the competition because they are clueless and can't come up with an original thought process or rise to a challenge. Lifestyle company indeed.

I want to kick ass. I want to be in a place where my wings are not clipped. Where I thrive, where it doesn't matter how my passion comes out. There are too many dead walkers in the world. I am not one of them, nor can I fake it.

I live in the Future, not in Hades.

love is not eternal, love is eternal

All maneuvers are not temporary. tonight my love went up in flames. No longer can they claim to love me unconditionally, or always, or for all time, or forever. Forever ends tonight. Ash flys up into the LA night sky and lands on my fingers typing. I stir up the ashes and small pieces catch fire. All will be ash before morning.

I thought about auctioning all my love letters off on eBay. I had quite a collection. Wonderful prose and poetry from a variety of boys and men from the past 16 years. I thought they might fetch a decent price or at least get me some press. I decided instead on the age old fire form.

But fire can not burn emails. So I must satisfy myself and the universe by changing the recycle bin icon to that of a burning flame and delete all those messages.

"It is imperative that you try to understand that the only thing solid and unbreakable in your life is and should be your heart and your spirit, but they are frail, so your imperative is to keep them intact. But it is easy to do, follow your heart and never let the spirit sink. Everything else can go, and should go. There is nothing else that you need." Jane says.

on maneuvers

"Don't worry all maneuvers are temporary."

haunted

And I'm haunted
By the lives that I have loved
And actions I have hated

I'm haunted
By the promises I've made
And others I have broken

I'm haunted
By the lives that wove the web
Inside my haunted head

- Poe

egg tooth

I'm not shamed or embarrassed to cry in public. I've cried at the dinner table in restaurants more than once. You don't see much drama in real life these days. Recently I've been found crying at the Enterprise rent a car counter, on the phone to my insurance company, on the phone to my home warranty company, driving my car, in front of various work colleagues, in front of my friends, in front of my roommate, on the phone with my business partner, and on the phone with my soon to be x-boyfriend if he doesn't get his shit together. My liquid eyeliner runs and I wipe it off - so long to my Fellini look.

The past two weeks have been the most stressful, trying times in my recent future (last 10 years). Every single stable item in my life has one by one been cracked. Stability = gone. In the meantime the pressure has been mounting in all my activities. I kept asking myself what is the universe trying to teach me. What am I to learn? It climaxed yesterday with a complete and total breakdown. That was when the universe put the final squeeze on my life and I broke - completely and utterly break though.

You see, we all live in this egg of energy. It's what holds our worldview and keeps our personality in check with humanity. It's this worldview that allows us to interact - we've all agreed that that color is green or verde. We've agreed on a mutual worldview.

I've always pushed this button, both in myself and in others. I've found various paths that explain this and exploit it. There are various twists on what to do with this knowledge. I understand the words of many masters or gurus and teachers - billboards and fortune cookies. It's not synchronicity, it's the universe talking to you.

So what the hell am I supposed to learn from this build-up of pressure and final culmination yesterday? Ah, there was nothing to learn - it was a maneuver to cause me to crack - and crack I did, and start using my metaphorical egg tooth. My old world is gone, my old world view is gone with it. I live in the future - literally and metaphorically. And only now with my slow chipping away of the shell will I hatch and rise into something never before. I wonder what that will be? Butterfly, chick, snakeling, it's sure to be interesting. And you'll see it all here on heathervescent.

stuck

It was dark. And the fluorescent lights on the ceiling were not on. Instead the lights that found its way into her eyes came from children dancing in hologram shadows to musical dance beats.  As she moved to the computer generated rhythms, her dress, the one with the lace ribbons on it, flirted out among the crowd. It was made of spandex, velvet and lace and hung limply from the tips of her breasts, creating generous folds around her thighs that caressed them in ways only cloth knows.

The spotlight, however, was not on this girl in the purple velvet dress. It was on the drag queen in suspenders with the tallest cat-in-the-hat hat that all eyes were drawn to. His swinging arms and legs reminded her of dancing trees from Alice in Wonderland. The thought made her think that she could be a lost girl in a musical enchantment. The wonderland of musical ecstasy and flinging the body's muscles to the point of exhaustion and then beyond. The colors of the lights flashing and swinging in palpitating rhythm with the must. They were globules lollipops of color and sound.

Suspenders, wide swinging dresses, not those that Scarlet O'Hara wore, but ripped torn shredded remnants of Victoria hospitality throbbed with dangling braids and spiked hair, some of which was blue, orange and burgundy. White t-shirts hung limply on young boys' chests as they swayed to the music coiling and winding around itself like a wounded snake.

Some delighted in ingesting drugs of choice to get a full effect of the driving force of the music. Drugs that open the mind for some and close it for others. But she needed no outside influence to see the musical colors and hear their meanings. It was the total freedom, an abandonment of everything she was, everything she could be and living as an organism, not as an intellect or tool of society or religion. Her hips swinging, flinging her elbows into the unknown. Feeling the ache in her gut, screaming to stop the mad gyration, but the continuous frisk of her life force mingling into one with the beat of the music and blazing lights.

Face burning she ran outside into the snow and felt the cold in a new way, not with her standard predisposed dislike, but the cooling effect. Feeling the cold and yet, not feeling the cold. Outside the warehouse the air was so cold, so still. The sky was bare and offered no comfort, unlike the summer sky with its moist breath. She felt her skin tingle, the cells in her body reacting to the outside air, yet she felt no bitterness. It was refreshing and the silent night was contrasted with the savage activities in the building. It was the hot steamy voice of summer, reds, yellows and oranges of summer sun and the glimmering unknown of the ocean full of brightly colored fish.

Back inside the spinning rhythms of the music she felt unsatisfied. She felt the cold, or lack of coldness and the lights felt strange to her. She no longer felt the blood life of the beating music in her heart. The cold had penetrated her and she could not escape it.

The dark corners of the room provided no retreat from the hot sultry rhythms and her hair sent slow beads of sweat trickling down her neck, sending shivers up her back. She felt alone, alien and hostile. How could the short time outside change her entire being? She did not long to go back outside, she easily felt the cold on her skin and wet snow in her zippered combat boots. Even the place at the door, standing on the thin line separating the cold outside from the hot inside did not appeal to her. She wanted to leave, but the comfort of her car or the drive home gave no consolation. So she stayed where she was, malcontent, but without motivation to move, watching the shadows the tall cat-in-the-hat hat made in the moving lights and circling rhythms.
- myself circa 1996

Geek love

I am the wandering variable and he is the limiting parameter in our relationship.

Hunter

"Yeah, there was a moment of epiphany, but I can’t remember what it was."
-HST.

Sorry to hear him go. It's a great way to remember him.

and it continues to rain

There's been lots of rain down here in LA. This morning I watched the water crest over the curb, only to subside a few hours later when the sun finally came out. It's a good metaphor.

It's been damage control the past couple weeks. I've been in this massive fight or flight reactivity and only now realized it as I'm coming down. The stress of moving to another temporary location, my car getting hit and the flux at work was too much to bear. As well as a couple other big things I don't write about on the blog. (Yes, I do keep secrets.)

All these things will get resolved with time, which will continue to pass regardless of anything I do.

Rock it Internet Radio

Theory Labs - RIGHT NOW.

good bye santa monica, hello venice

In a strange twist of events, I'm back in the first house I landed in when I moved to southern California. It's a short stop on the way to the future. Being back in this house reminds me of how good I felt when I first arrived. How different it was for me to live alone, without a man, without a boyfriend, alone. Long long time. Months have passed. It's a writers house and I love it so much.

Oh how far I've come. And to only imagine how far I will go. To places I could never dream of, because their characteristics don't exist yet.

zen cookie

We were diving in bumper to bumper traffic on the 10. A black Mercedes on the flat bed, my Saab pulled behind. The windows were open. The radio was on and playing the Red Hot Chili Peppers - one of their ballads, but not THE BALLAD. There were seagulls flying in the sky. I pulled the bag of molasses cookies out of my bag. They've been my recent panacea. I offered a cookie to Jose, he took one and I took one as well. We ate them slowly with the wind and radio as companions. It was the best cookie I have ever eaten. It was a moment of full aware pleasure and calmness in the midst of the storm that is my life.

heathizzile

You mizzight thiznink I'm very egotizzle n it's true I have a dizzy big ego straight from long beach nigga. (Are you egotizzles if you is aware of it n kizzy it?) I attempt ta be aware of me as mizzle as possible fo yo bitch ass. I'm constantly view'n me n mah actions n saggin' tha scientific model . Listen to how a motherfucker flow shit. I'm attached n detached from myself. I think I am one of tha mizzle pimpin' thugz I K-N-to-tha-izzow. I've worked hard ta be who I am. I like ta hang out wit brotha interest'n amaz'n thugz in they own ways . Im crazy, you can't phase me.

You gotta check dis shit out yo.

hit and bladerun

Here's what I saw when I walked out of my apartment this morning.

Whee-haw - yet another big thing to add to my current collection. At this rate, my big things no longer seem big to me. It's kind of like, don't sweat the small stuff, and it's all small stuff.

Last night, prior to this damage I felt like I was in BladeRunner's Los Angeles. Designing product UI while driving on 101,  twisting through the canyons where an RV almost careened into me.  Back cracking, finger popping, Chinese herbs and needles. Heat. I stopped for noodles and ate at the counter. As the mist turned to rain, I slurped the soup and chomped the noodles and left as quickly as I came. The darkness swallowed up me and my advice.

life as a spider

earlier this year I posted my goals for 2005. I entitled the post "out with the tiger, in with the spider". I don't know if my dear readers understood what I meant. It is a remark that reminds me of a scene in my life. Simply, a spider letting itself down from my chandelier on it's one thread. Stopping on the mint green tablecloth and walking to the edge only to let itself down onto the floor and walk across the floor in the same direction.

Another time I was participating in a ritual theatre group run by Antero Alli, called Paratheatrical Ritual Work. It was interesting. We went through this series of warm-up to turn on the body. Then we did various authentic improv interactions within an esoteric setting. Interacting with ourselves, our preconceptions of themes, emotions, feelings, and sometimes with others or objects. One such ritual I will not forget. The room had been taped off into a sunburst with four sections with a 5th place that two of the sections opened on. This was what you could call the Void. From the void was section 1, then section 2, then section 3 and finally 4 which then lead back into the void as well as section 1. When you crossed that line from void into section 1, that was birth: into this world with any and all conceptions. You passed through section 1 and as you went into section 2, puberty strikes, Section 2 to 3 transition was into ripe middle age, section 3 into 4: into later years and advanced age, and as you returned to the void, you experienced your death. Each person in the group entered and we started to progress through the sections. I felt very light, I could not get identified with each of the sections fully. I felt them and experienced them as authentically as I could, but I still felt I was missing. And as I went from each section to the other, it was the transition that most interested me. It was the line I crossed (an actual line was taped on the floor). I was interested in the role of the line and once you went across, could you go back. I became obsessed with the transitions and lines on the floor. I had to really slow myself down and authentically feel what each of the sections were because I could not wait to be finished with them. As I finished the cycle... and was about to step back into the void, my foot was instead drawn to be placed on the line separating section 4 from section 1. And I made my next pass around the sections walking on the lines. Watching my colleagues authentically act their experiences in the full blown section. I saw a relationship bloom and saw the pain when one was ready to move on and had to tear away from the other. I saw mothering. I saw lovers. I saw families. I saw friends that went together their entire life. I saw people trying to cheat the cycle and attempt to return. My participation changed - I was no longer an active participant in the sections. I was the spider on the webs. I was the watcher. I was the keeper of the sections. There were laws that I upheld. I refused to let someone return to a previous section. I made someone break their promise of return with the placement of my palm on his forehead. I did not feel power in this. I knew of his promise. I had made no decision to let pass or refrain. But at the moment he attempted to cross, I was there, and my hand also. I watched while all participants completed the sections and then I danced. I danced on the webs. It was so beautiful. I cleaned the threads. I prepared them for their next dance.

A quick search via google bring me:

It's the Trickster who points out the flaws in our carefully managed societies. He rebels against authority, pokes fun at the overly serious, creates complex schemes and generally plays with the Laws of the Universe. He constantly questions the rules, and causes us to question these same rules. The Trickster appears when a way of thinking becomes outmoded, when old ways need to be changed.
 
The Trickster is a creator, a joker, a truth teller, a story teller, a transformer. We are most accessible to the gifts of the Trickster when we ourselves are at, or near, boundaries - when we are experiencing transition states. As an archetype, the Trickster, the boundary dweller, finds expression through human imagination and experience.

Quite interesting, hmmm?

In my business life I define my role as the glue that dries clear. This is perhaps another way of saying, I'm the one that builds the web that catches the pieces. As the pieces come together the hold by way of their own gravity and the web falls away. And thus my role as gentle rebel falls away and like Cain, I walk the earth in search of the next boundary to blow. (In the meantime my own worldview is re-molded and shaped and shattered and changed).

So 2005 - the year of being authentic to myself. Myself as the trickster rebel fool. Dancing with the laws of the Universe, bending them, twisting them into a new revelations for the Universe. Universal wild card.

booty call

Suz and I are out in Hollywood checking out the clubs and watching the scene. It's a bunch of 20 somethings, platforms, skimpy shirts, fake tits, drunken breath. We sat outside Beauty Bar and watched the crowds. 2am darkstreetlightness, slick streets, the smell of frying hot dogs and bacon and cigarette smoke. It reminds me of something, a life I used to lead in another country. The hike from one club to another, looking for friends, maybe the one I haven't found yet. I'm not on the hunt. I find the scene amusing and I do enjoy being out in it. Finding grandmaster flash and prince playing in the sushi joint. A little old skool to shake the booty at. I like seeing the young girls, all dressed up, with their black eyeliner and blonde highlighted hair, low-rise jeans and little bit of the flab poking out between the funky belt and their flouncy chemise top. I like seeing them enjoy themselves and be a little unsure at the same time. Dancing for their man. I like listening to the ebb and flow of the DJ, listening to the small glinter of sound that I recognize and categorize as delight to my ears. Dancing as the music moves me.

<LA interlude>
My first funky dance experience in LA was years ago. A youngin I was, and in LA for a very swanky slick tech graphic conference at the LA Convention Center. I was the youngest on the team and I had coordinated our participation in the event. Later we found ourselves at a party at a nearby hotel. Some colleagues and I got the frat crowd all amped up with our funky SF moves. The party was held around the pool and a climax ensued to be broken only by yours truly jumping into the pool completely clothed in my business casual. Several of my colleagues joined me. We got a standing ovation - I'm not sure if they closed any business deals the next day, but I doubt those frat boy observers forgot us.

Ahh, the good old days of the Internet - when we thought anything was possible regardless of the bad management, lack of direction but plenty of money.
</LA interlude>

So we're out in the streets, watching the girls and boys. And we start talking of booty call. The concept of booty call is a new one to me. Being married through the majority of my 20's I never experienced this.

Eventually we find ourselves at the magazine stand where I'm much more excited at a late-night call with a purring machine. It's the Honda CB4 I'm drooling over at full spread - centerfold. A nice picture. It's nothing special - no twisty road, no city scape, no knee dragging on the track - just her, side profile. I'm not a fan of farings - I like the bikes naked. That's why I like the 919. But the CB4 looks beautiful and I start considering her for my next purchase.

A bike goes by on the street and our heads turn - it's like the sound of a baby crying to a momma. For Suz and I, it's the sound of two wheels of exhaust. And I think to myself, if I'm going to get any kind of booty call it better be the sound of exhaust, a slightly purring engine, the pat of my booty settling down onto the seat, my leather gloves gripping the clutch and twisting open the throttle.

worth the wait?

on being a heretic

"Some scientists tell us that in our own galaxy alone there are probably hundreds of thousands of planets with living beings on them, more or less like those On the earth, and that there are about 100 million galaxies within the range of our telescopes. Man seems to play a very insignificant part in the universe, and my part is surely negligible. The question confronting me is not, except perhaps in idle moments, what part might be more amusing, but what I wish to make of my part. And what I want to do and would advise others to do is to make the most of it: put into it all you have got, and live and, if possible, die with some measure of nobility."
- Walter Kaufman, 1959, The Faith of a Heretic

black stars

It was a clear dark night under the stars. Wind blew through Jasmine scented garden. I strayed from the crowd up to the balcony. Looked below at the suits talking, conversing, wine flowing. Why am I not there? Why do I reject the group? Is my rejection so they don't reject me? These are human beings. They are alive. They are surprising. They are unknown. Maybe I am fearful of what I will find, what I will expose. I get tired of who I am. I watch the wind in the palms. I look up to see many many stars. Orion's Belt, clusters, the blackness of the ocean. It's a breath of air. I wonder where this wind will take me.

--

""I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of being around people who are merely my peers. I want to be around people who challenge and push me and shatter and expand and fuck my worldview up. Because there is nothing too precious to lose, except the time to begin it." (Heather writes)

Heather: Be careful of what you wish for. You will surely get it.

The only person who is around to shatter, push and expand you is yourself. That's number one. And if you are in a hurry, you will surely find out quickly enough that this path takes a lifetime and there are no short cuts."

Shelly is right. However there are indeed shortcuts. Shortcuts to long routes along the way. Troutdale is one such shortcut. If you know the shortcuts are there, they will be available when you need them. Do not use them often, for they may change and no longer serve you.

I suppose a shortcut could be akin to my third staircase. And I often carry it around in my third pocket.