Ahh hello blog. I missed you so much. I know you have been seriously neglected because a new faster, younger, and trendier lover has taken your place. FACEBOOK. I spend A LOT of fucking energy on my Facebook posts and albums. I was addicted. Instant gratification. Instant rejection. Instant feedback. Instant False sense of approval/security/popularity…
At the same time as I want to do a FAcebook SUICIDE and just STOP doing personal wallposts all together I get the best birthday present ever! All as a result of a connection I made THROUGH FACEBOOK!
I’ve been celebrating my 34th for about the entire last week or so. I’m happy. Things are finally going good around this time for me. The last two birthdays for me have been the worst ever. Crisis. Drama and other life changing experiences.
Around my 32rd birthday I was arrested and jailed from a Craigslist sting operation I was caught up in. The post traumatic stress disorder from that in combination with my difficult relationship made that Gemini season one of the most chaotic period in my 30s thus far. Around my 33rd birthday still in a difficult relationship which was I hoped on its last legs, I found out that I had Herpes Simplex Virus 1 and at the same tiem went to the emergency room for a lip infection that wasn’t really herpes related but sort of, I think a physical manifestion of the crisis I was going through. Neither I nor my partner really understood herpes, so in our fear we often freaked out about it on each other. He treated me like I had Swine Flu and during one incident of sex with me stuck his dick out of the hole in his boxers and wore gloves and condoms, because “you can catch herpes from any skin to skin contact, whether or not the person is showing signs of a cold sore or not.” (Cue the scary music).
I am happy during this birthday year, I have learned a lot about my body and the herpes virus, and also a hell of a lot about the ignorance and tolerance of people around STDs. It’s been fascinating. I also learned that herpes is not the big deal that the stigma equates it to be and I have since decided that it is soo important for me to come out and speak for people who are afraid to speak about it. 1 in 4 people have it, so I’m not afraid of your judgement anymore because chances are you or the person next to you has it. And it’s okay. It’s not the end of the world, your sex life or your life in general. If your relationships ends as a result of you getting an STD then it is not the relationship that you really need and tell that person to not let the door hit them as they leave. I came out about it because a lover of mine apparently came down with an outbreak, but now that I’ve had some time to reflect on how long it was between our unprotected skin to skin encounter and the time that he called me to make me responsible for the spots all over his dick was like 3 weeks after we fucked. It may not have been contracted from me even! Herpes is not a big deal. It’s pretty much like getting pimples. Some people get them, some don’t. But, most of the time herpes sores go away. And then they don’t come back as often as teenage pimples for sure. That lover made me decide to come out about it on my blog. I was ready to start expressing my inner feelings about “having an incurable disease” which is language that is used when describing HIV. A lot of the feelings around disclosure, stigma, depression etc ARE indeed similar, but seriously folks, herpes is NOT AIDS. Or HIV. And even some with HIV would exclaim their vibrancy and defiance to holding the stigma. I wanted to come out and “come clean” because I am not good at closeting my pain and my feelings. it has always been what all of m work, since graduating from UC Berkeley has been about.
An old friend did a critique of my work the other day, who I’d known since my Berkeley days and was now riding high on his new performance art career fame. “You look messy girl. People want to support your work, but no one wants to read someone’s diary pages. You need to clean it up.”
He said a host of other things too, most of which just irritated and depressed me. Couldn’t wait to get home and blow a big bong load in my dad’s garage before my flight back to LA. I had asked him to be in a show with me and collaborate on a program of other queer Asian performance artists I knew. We talked about our frustrations with the mainstream Asian American arts community and how they were happy with their 1990s oatmeal identity artists (easy to swallow and bland) but I didn’t expect him to reject working with me. I thought we had a lot in common truthfully before this meeting, but I am realizing more and more that when I step away from the Facebook, the youtube, the blog and the internet I realize that the true connections are not as true as I may have perceived.
“people are just watching you go from crisis to crisis to crisis wondering oh no what is this girl going through…”
well, I disagree.
i’m not in crisis
i’m doing well,
better than ever actually!
You must be mistaking THIS YEAR for how I was LAST YEAR.
Yes I was indeed in crisis, but don’t typecast me as being a melodramatic attention whore!
I think he was mixing me and Tila Tequila my bisexual doppelganger and the next person I promise to impersonate whenever I get a chance! (I have a cutesy pink prom dress for it! I’m just looking for a big key!)
i am not looking for someone to rescue me
i just feel sorry for myself sometimes.
I have been through some shit. And my blog and facebook and videos are one of the ways I let alll of that pain out. (as well as my martial arts, singing, yoga…)
i had thoughts of suicide in july when i left SWOP-LA and called the cops on my ex boyfriend because he wouldn’ t move out. But look at me now! I’m doing sooo much better. Worlds better. Thank you for trying to be constructive, but I disagree. I think you are projecting. I am more joyful than you and you hate it.
my therapist was the greatest man and my only listener in months of feeling and being utterly alone and in darkness. then he challenged me on one of my sexual assault experiences and it changed our relationship permanently. I not only stopped wanting to see him, I somehow managed to not need therapy at this time in my life any longer. I have been therapy free and relatively “fine” since December. My car was impounded last year as I walked out of quitting my shitting grocery store canvasing job of all things. I walked towards the space my car was parked innocently and realized it had been abducted by the municipal tax collector mafia known as LADOT. They had my bank owned vehicle hostage and they needed $1500 if I ever wanted to see it again, and once your car has been booted and towed you could not pay with a credit card for some reason. (cash only, just like the mob steals cars).
Please give me the strength to help change the things that I can change and help me accept the things that I cannot change. (something like that)
I cannot seem to stop myself from getting parking tickets. The tax collectors are serious and efficient about getting their money. Avoiding tickets has become a good part of my consciousness since the impound. I think I might have Parking ticket related trauma disorder (PTRTD)! When I see a meter maid slow down as it is approaching my windshield, (perhaps I am walking towards my car head on) I immediately start to sprint towards my car and my face is plastered with agony over being defeated by the parking ticket mafia once again. But the electric vehicle keeps going past my car. I wasn’t even in danger of a parking ticket and I almost threw my body in front of the electric vehicle so that it would run my body over and be at fault of that before he/she gave me another parking violation! But meter maid wasn’t ticketing, just routinely “checking” cars. “Doing their job.” I am still out of breath from running. All of the parking tickets are mailed to my very critical and judgmental middle siblings house and she then scans them and faxes them. Everytime I would get another ticket I could hear my whole family screaming, “IDIOT! WHY ARE YOU SUCH AN IDIOT? WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO LEARN? I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU JUST THROW YOUR MONEY AWAY LIKE THAT!!!” It made things much more traumatic then I think they actually were and almost drove me to 5150 status based on all of the related issues that parking tickets, being in debt, unemployed and near homeless often bring on. But this was 2009. I know it wasn’t just hard for me.
All I have learned from getting my car impounded is that PARKING TICKETS NEED TO BE PAID ON TIME. The only thing I have control over at this point in my life with this situation is that I CAN pay the tickets on time wihtout letting them triple now that I am working steadily. I let it spiral downwards out of control at the same time as I was ending my relationship, trying to quit that agency I was mainly working with and drop the boyfriend that was sucking my soul. It was the amazing strength that I found when I survived the week that I had to gather money from every single one of my friends and relatives in those summer of 2009 months to help me tread water in the downward spiral that was my life. I took the bus to dad’s bank, I took the bus to Western Union, to the tow lot TWICE, back home, and more. I actually enjoyed taking the bus for a minute. I am proud of getting through that incident which I had talked about with my therapist would be the final straw where I would lose my mind, attempt suicide in public, screaming as I found my car was finally impounded. (It wasn’t too much of a suprise..I knew what would eventually happen if I didn’t pay these tickets, I just couldn’t do anything to stop it). But I didn’t. I calmly called friends who talked to me as I rode the bus home. I even thought I was going to go to a liquor store and at least get wasted and stumble home the 3 mile walk back to my house from where it was stolen. But I didn’t.
Since getting robbed really, i have worked on building myself stronger than I have EVER been physically, mentally, spiritually. I am in excellent health although I am probably 15 lbs overweight. Oh well I could be 50 lbs overweight. I have a belly as a result of a lot of joyous times eating foods that I love. it’s worth it I think. As long as I am in shape and feel good.
I have been martial arts, boxing training and yoga for the last 4 months and I swear upon its healing powers. It is the single reason why I am more calm, relaxed, strong, confident, fearless. I have found a healthy and positive outlet for all of the negativity that I have to experience on a routine basis in my work and also in the world for any woman who dares to defy the institutions that have been determined for her.
I was robbed for the 2nd time in December and instead of let that experience get the best of me and be afraid to come home (this robbery happened at my house, he slashed one of the tires on my car and knew very well where I lived). I decided to finally take a VERY MAJOR step into MY FIRST self defense class. This step is one that I have tried to take many different times in my life. I have picked up many a flyer for BAMM, countless workshops put on by Rape Crisis Centers, etc but never gone. I was afraid that i would hate them for some reason. One time, my best friend made fun of me for wanting to go so I never went. i always knew that it would be the solution, but I never stuck with actually following through more than one trial class anywhere in my adult life which advocated and expressed survival from violence and an overall fighter attitude, but in reality was a body that was absolutely untrained and perhaps not so effective in real life combat.
I train and work out intensively 3-4x a week. I used to hate yoga and now i love it. I take Israeli martial arts called Krav maga. I now know how powerful my elbow is when smashing full force into a pad, and I know that I can break and shatter bones if I manage to strike an attacker with it. I know how to make my knee a spear into someone’s groin. I know how to get out of a choke hold, the fastest way to get up from falling, I know how to doing a flying knee to the groin and a kick to the balls that I like to imagine can kick a outtahand trick back, down the stairs. I have a stun gun and I can use it on someone’s body to deter, but mostly i have and will use it to deter someone with it’s mere startling sound to make a potential attacker think about who he’s fucking with. I’ve already used it to de-escalate an altercation with an angry client to let him know that I was leaving his apartment unharmed. I am a vocalist and a speaker. I am EXCELLENT WITH USING MY VOICE AS A WEAPON.
I was listening to the “women’s only Krav maga class” at my training center. I almost went to one once but hesistated. The SAME hesitation that I felt when I was 22 or 23 and never signed up for those self defense classes for women time and time and time again.
I heard them say in unison chorus: STOP! and NO! and pause and again. STOP! and NO!
I smiled to myself and realized that as an agency bitch I was worlds beyond STOP AND NO. I have already acquired a great arsenal of phrases that have really helped me leave apartments with potentially sticky situations. I am by now means saying I win all the time. No no no nononono. And it is those losses that I hold in me and release through a crash of my knee into a boxing bag or pad, my flurry of right left right left kicks into someone’s body as they hold it against their chest. I have felt so many amazing feelings physically through doing my martial arts training that I feel like I have almost gone through a sort of rebirthing of spirit and body. This is what everyone who has been beaten down literally, symbolically or physically really needs.
I have healed through Krav maga. I practice singing with an amazingly talented accompanist every week. I am building my song book up for performance as a vocalist. This feat has taken me truly almost 10 years to achieve. I have worked with musicians to hone my skill as a professional working singer since I was 22. I look at Beyonce and wish I could be her. I wonder what I will be happy with, when I will feel that I have finally achieved enough in the world of being a singer so that I will be satisfied; so I will feel that the fruits of my labor has paid of. I am brainwashed by LA. It has been hard on me. MCs of open mics have told me to “go home and practice” as I was getting off stage, other open mic hostesses have sung the same exact song right after me, to show the restaurant “how the song was supposed to sound.” This is Los Angeles. There are 25 extremely super talented to quality contenders in every single room. Even, i found in some bullshit dive bar $100 karaoke competions. I went to one when i was broke thinking if I brought my rocking horse and just did my old burlesque sexy cutesy act I’d win. WRONG. it was like American Idol night in there and everyone was way good and way serious and I was slaughtered! LOL that was my first lesson about being an entertainer in LA. It’s not easy anywhere.
I am en route to NYC. it is my birthday. I am surrounded by sex and affection in a LOT OF places. I got the best birhtday present EVER in my life: a welcome back to LA from a Latina porn star (Cassandra Cruz) who has become my friend and lover through just acquainting by Facebook pokes! LOL so as mad as I am about Facebook bringing me stress and unhappiness, I can’t hate on it cuz I got a private lingeries show and did my first girl/girl scene with her on home video in my BED for my birthday the other nite! I think that tops anybody’s taking you to a strip club for your birthday type of present! She says she would sign a release so I can do somehting with it commercially. She’s going to help me get into a few porn projects perhaps. I want to do girl girl movies only right now. Selfish reasons. But I know they’re going to make me feel bad for being overweight. LA is the land of beauty standards. If you want to defy them and be yourself that’s cool but just know that it’s not San Francisco or Berkeley and you will just have a harder time.
I need to catch a plane but I”m glad I got to blog! finally..