I found a journal from 5 years ago. At the time, I lived in the Hawaiian countryside and worked 3 hours per day at a ranch. My days were spent collecting shells along the beach while walking to work, brushing down horses and feeding a monkey and an emu, hiking in the afternoon, walking home, picking fruit, reading, and teaching my friend's deaf son how to type. For a few months, that was about it. I kept this journal next to my bed and recorded dreams in it sometimes.
12/23/00
In this dream, my dad and I were stuck on a desolate island that looked a lot like Waikiki. We were trying to invent new foods so that the islanders could survive. A wild monkey was our test subject but it just stayed high in the palms throwing coconuts and bananas at us. We said "If we could only get the monkey to eat mold and fungus - those are things we might live on forever!" My suggestion was to bread a slug with mold and fry it. My dad breaded the live slug, but then the slug developed superpowers! First it was just faster, then it was FLYING. People were disgusted and scared as it clung to windows, chasing and eating geckos and big frogs. We had created a monster..
2/23/00
In a shallow cove there were sea animals swimming in a circle. They looked like little horses with dorsal fins. I remember going to the water to look for orcas, and seeing someone come out of this cove. He said these were "Sea Ponies". Suddenly the cove started to drain. It was time for a cleaning. We had a hose, and were supposed to add cleaning fluid or saline solution and couldn't figure out which. We found a natural saline solution, and wanted to put it in, but this other guy says no, and instead pours in a toxic mineral solution called "Taurus". So I'm freaking out, then I'm on a ship, watching a lighthouse shaped island made of wax - it's actually a giant candle and it's warping to the side as it burns...
Copied 2/23/00
"There's a level on which life might be perceived as a joke, on which it literally is a joke, and this bothers a lot of people. The tricksters' function is to break taboos, create mischief, stir things up. In the end, the trickster gives people what they really want, some sort of freedom."
- Tom Robbins in an interview with the New York Times
4/8/00
Star Soul Theory 2000
Maybe souls have a similar life span to stars. Not in length - in stages. Life stages. The soul itself being a seperate entity that is like a parasite. Requiring terrestrial hosts, or just chooses them for kicks.
With similar stages I mean that they might have an infancy stage like a star, an adult and mature stage, then maybe an explosion or an implosion.
I think whatever soul (insert apathetic person's name here) was born with has imploded. Now he is like a "soul vacuum", sucking up the joyful spirits of those around him and just dumping that positive energy in some useless void. Never to be found again. And then this shell of a man just keeps walking around. Sucking. Like a leech.
Maybe the EXploders are the people with radiant energy that stretches their hands across the masses and changes us for the better or just make us smile. That smile being a small piece, a fragment captured in the blast.
The Exploders in my life right now are Tamara, Chloe, Thadeus, Abby, Keana, Dave Choy. All of them have far-reaching energies that improve this whole planet! Bless them, and bless those who are coming into their own buddha-hood.
News and some rambling
I've decided to veer off slightly from my usual onslaught of psychobabble. Apparently more than one Lady crew checks out my blog on a regular basis, so you'll find some Lady updates here that you may not find on the official websites.
Crazy Haida update:
"There's no such thing as a sure thing transit. 35 miles, just 35 miles from Marina Del Rey to Long Beach. Well we set out first thing on Monday morning 7:15am after casting off both the dock and HC. Looking forward to pulling into Long Beach at Grand Arrival time 12 noon, plenty of time to make just the 35 miles. Listening to the weather the previous night we knew that it could be done not easy but done. As soon as we motored out past the breakwater the wind hit us right in the bow. Constant 15-20 knot winds with harder gusts. Fought the wind and swells all the way to long beach. Pulled into Long Beach just as the sun set, this after making, at times less than a knot headway into the wind. Heard later that someone had noticed us and called into the harbor master at rainbow harbor that they had seen us " being beatin' up pretty good " out there. The weather was no big deal but missed the grand arrival time by abouut 6 hours. Fun part was setting and furling the sails in Long Beach harbor. We set the sails as we hit the harbor and sailed maybe, well it seemed to me 15 minutes, when Ben said he heard on the radio that there were 40to 45 knot wind gusts off the breakwater. So back up into the rigging to furl sails. As soon as we hit the top sails the wind picked up. What a wild ride!!!!!!!!Even the people on deck noticed. The lady would roll one direction and stop then the fore topsail yard would carry on for another 8 to 10 inches. Then she would roll the other direction and stop and the yard would thump to the end of the 8 to 10 inches of play on that side. I was up there with shiney and brian myself and a new guy Victor. Before we went up Darryl ask people if they felt comfortable going up in this wind. Victor said afterwards that if Darryl hadn't of asked he wouldn't have gone up but that it was the little push that helped him up the shrouds. Vistor did well and afterwards said that he had fun up there. Brian and I were on the port fore topsail and had to fight to get the furl looking good. After we docked Brian walked up to me and said we did a good job furling and it didn't look bad. We had started 6 hour watches and I was on the first one. That realy screwed up my day. Just as I went to my bunk at 12 noon apparently we picked up a knot or 2 and soon were going to beat our estimated arrival of 12 midnight. So we got the all hands call around 4 that's when we entered Long Beach. My God what a huge harbor, I thought Seattles was a good sized harbor but you can stick several Seattles into Long Beach and still have plenty of room left over."
... and then I asked Bob how my friend Scuba Steve was doing on board...
"Steve was a little green around the gills on the transit but he is great to have aboard he is a cleaning machine..."
So there ya go, Tenacious & Pru. Our Steve is a REAL sailor now.
"BASEBALL" is in Key West, Florida. He's working on getting his AB and Dive Master and he's sailing quite a bit down there. He said Key West is a "Tall Ship Haven".
Schoolmaster "A" writes: "I managed to complete a quarter of grad school (with two smiley faces, as W.W.U. has recently switched to an emoticon grading system)." And is toying with the idea of joining the COAST GUARD (??!??) but I couldn't tell if he was serious.
Info was passed down the line that Ms. AB Tall Magnolia said that The Boy, Miss Mate, Everyones Favorite Aberdeen Phat Cat, and the Ketchup Eatin' Bosun will also be pursuing tickets and training here in Seattle in '05.
"Sunshine Mountain" AKA YP/The red-bearded, blonde russian-canadian that I used to date and is now my friend - is down in Tortola, working on boats, gearing up for the classic wooden boat regatta out of Antigua this spring.
Sparkle (the Professional Male Model, not Little B's Boat) is up in PT, or maybe in Santa Cruz this week (he was trying), and I think he's still working on his little schooner, but I'll see him in January so I'll know more later.
The Beard is in the Tri Cities, and as of 12/14 was looking forward to certain recent volunteer coming to visit him.
And Behold! The Mann emailed me with an update too:
"Since I saw you last I have sailed to mainland Mexico and back twice. I spent most of the summer sailing off the beach in Tonga (south pacific) trying to set a new world sailing speed record. We did not set a new record, but we had fun trying. There was a filmmaker along who is turning the experiance into a documentary..."
Is that enough gossip for today? If anyone is feeling violated, email right away. I try to pass on only the "safe" stuff because don't want to risk the trust of my friends.
Now back to the psychobabble:
I saw Garden State with my little sis last night. See any connection to Eternal Sunshine, maybe? These movies make me so sad because guys like these really do exist. The Natalie Portman character was so much better than the Kate Winslet one. She's just as spunky but without all the bitterness. Fantasy world or not, some moviemakers have a message they are trying to get out to us, and I GET IT. It's not just entertainment, it's feelings they are trying to get you to connect to, and thus inspire you, and I love movies like this because I leave feeling inspired. Eternal didn't inspire me as much as Garden State. At first I thought (with Eternal) Hey that's great - they were meant to be together and found each other anyway! In the end, he's still apathetic and uninspired (I no longer find this romantic) and she is still jaded and emotional (my reality at times - not the fantasy I seek at the theater). But then you have Garden State. There's so many people on prescription drugs these days, acting like robots. And Portman's character is just awesome. She feels everything. The scene when she's burying her pet is important - he makes a sarcastic joke, not even thinking about it, and she stops him. By then end of the movie he talking to his dad, and he is no longer writing off an important emotional moment that he has to be fully present in, fully loving and communicating that. And she says how life is hard sometimes, it sucks, and that's just part of life. The music was almost too much like Lost in Translation & Eternal Sunshine, but it was good, like those soundtracks. I say maybe too much, because in those movies, there's no permanent life decision that those characters make, to come out of their trance for good. But in Garden State, he does. And I suppose the last song relates that.
My only rant about Garden State was the awful bit-part acting on the part of the wife in the wooden boat. Is she the director's sister or something? How did she even get a bit part? She spanked me out of the fantasy that I was absorbed in.
More later.
Crazy Haida update:
"There's no such thing as a sure thing transit. 35 miles, just 35 miles from Marina Del Rey to Long Beach. Well we set out first thing on Monday morning 7:15am after casting off both the dock and HC. Looking forward to pulling into Long Beach at Grand Arrival time 12 noon, plenty of time to make just the 35 miles. Listening to the weather the previous night we knew that it could be done not easy but done. As soon as we motored out past the breakwater the wind hit us right in the bow. Constant 15-20 knot winds with harder gusts. Fought the wind and swells all the way to long beach. Pulled into Long Beach just as the sun set, this after making, at times less than a knot headway into the wind. Heard later that someone had noticed us and called into the harbor master at rainbow harbor that they had seen us " being beatin' up pretty good " out there. The weather was no big deal but missed the grand arrival time by abouut 6 hours. Fun part was setting and furling the sails in Long Beach harbor. We set the sails as we hit the harbor and sailed maybe, well it seemed to me 15 minutes, when Ben said he heard on the radio that there were 40to 45 knot wind gusts off the breakwater. So back up into the rigging to furl sails. As soon as we hit the top sails the wind picked up. What a wild ride!!!!!!!!Even the people on deck noticed. The lady would roll one direction and stop then the fore topsail yard would carry on for another 8 to 10 inches. Then she would roll the other direction and stop and the yard would thump to the end of the 8 to 10 inches of play on that side. I was up there with shiney and brian myself and a new guy Victor. Before we went up Darryl ask people if they felt comfortable going up in this wind. Victor said afterwards that if Darryl hadn't of asked he wouldn't have gone up but that it was the little push that helped him up the shrouds. Vistor did well and afterwards said that he had fun up there. Brian and I were on the port fore topsail and had to fight to get the furl looking good. After we docked Brian walked up to me and said we did a good job furling and it didn't look bad. We had started 6 hour watches and I was on the first one. That realy screwed up my day. Just as I went to my bunk at 12 noon apparently we picked up a knot or 2 and soon were going to beat our estimated arrival of 12 midnight. So we got the all hands call around 4 that's when we entered Long Beach. My God what a huge harbor, I thought Seattles was a good sized harbor but you can stick several Seattles into Long Beach and still have plenty of room left over."
... and then I asked Bob how my friend Scuba Steve was doing on board...
"Steve was a little green around the gills on the transit but he is great to have aboard he is a cleaning machine..."
So there ya go, Tenacious & Pru. Our Steve is a REAL sailor now.
"BASEBALL" is in Key West, Florida. He's working on getting his AB and Dive Master and he's sailing quite a bit down there. He said Key West is a "Tall Ship Haven".
Schoolmaster "A" writes: "I managed to complete a quarter of grad school (with two smiley faces, as W.W.U. has recently switched to an emoticon grading system)." And is toying with the idea of joining the COAST GUARD (??!??) but I couldn't tell if he was serious.
Info was passed down the line that Ms. AB Tall Magnolia said that The Boy, Miss Mate, Everyones Favorite Aberdeen Phat Cat, and the Ketchup Eatin' Bosun will also be pursuing tickets and training here in Seattle in '05.
"Sunshine Mountain" AKA YP/The red-bearded, blonde russian-canadian that I used to date and is now my friend - is down in Tortola, working on boats, gearing up for the classic wooden boat regatta out of Antigua this spring.
Sparkle (the Professional Male Model, not Little B's Boat) is up in PT, or maybe in Santa Cruz this week (he was trying), and I think he's still working on his little schooner, but I'll see him in January so I'll know more later.
The Beard is in the Tri Cities, and as of 12/14 was looking forward to certain recent volunteer coming to visit him.
And Behold! The Mann emailed me with an update too:
"Since I saw you last I have sailed to mainland Mexico and back twice. I spent most of the summer sailing off the beach in Tonga (south pacific) trying to set a new world sailing speed record. We did not set a new record, but we had fun trying. There was a filmmaker along who is turning the experiance into a documentary..."
Is that enough gossip for today? If anyone is feeling violated, email right away. I try to pass on only the "safe" stuff because don't want to risk the trust of my friends.
Now back to the psychobabble:
I saw Garden State with my little sis last night. See any connection to Eternal Sunshine, maybe? These movies make me so sad because guys like these really do exist. The Natalie Portman character was so much better than the Kate Winslet one. She's just as spunky but without all the bitterness. Fantasy world or not, some moviemakers have a message they are trying to get out to us, and I GET IT. It's not just entertainment, it's feelings they are trying to get you to connect to, and thus inspire you, and I love movies like this because I leave feeling inspired. Eternal didn't inspire me as much as Garden State. At first I thought (with Eternal) Hey that's great - they were meant to be together and found each other anyway! In the end, he's still apathetic and uninspired (I no longer find this romantic) and she is still jaded and emotional (my reality at times - not the fantasy I seek at the theater). But then you have Garden State. There's so many people on prescription drugs these days, acting like robots. And Portman's character is just awesome. She feels everything. The scene when she's burying her pet is important - he makes a sarcastic joke, not even thinking about it, and she stops him. By then end of the movie he talking to his dad, and he is no longer writing off an important emotional moment that he has to be fully present in, fully loving and communicating that. And she says how life is hard sometimes, it sucks, and that's just part of life. The music was almost too much like Lost in Translation & Eternal Sunshine, but it was good, like those soundtracks. I say maybe too much, because in those movies, there's no permanent life decision that those characters make, to come out of their trance for good. But in Garden State, he does. And I suppose the last song relates that.
My only rant about Garden State was the awful bit-part acting on the part of the wife in the wooden boat. Is she the director's sister or something? How did she even get a bit part? She spanked me out of the fantasy that I was absorbed in.
More later.
When You Go To Fiji...
Yesterday afternoon I drove up to Bellingham and met Captain A. It's been a year and a few months since we last saw each other - at the Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival. He's in town after spending a month in South Africa working on a friend's ranch, and on his way to spend a month Down Under with his girlfriend, before sailing out of Tahiti.
We had some beers at Boundary Bay Brewery (I highly recommend the Impressive Oatmeal Stout), then I was too drunk to drive, as I'd been drinking on an empty stomach and I'm a lightweight anyway. So we walked a bit, then he drove a bit, since he has a Learner's Permit, LoL (he sailed away at age 15 and hasn't spent much time on land since). We ended up at Anthony's for dinner - Crab Fettucine and Mahi Mahi tacos!! How decadent! And told sea stories and I mentioned how I'd like to go to Puerto Rico again some day, and drink Mojitos. A is really into mojitos, and I'd never had one, so he took me to a bar that's known for them and we had three each. I LOVE MOJITOS! We entertained the thought of getting a bunch of people together to go on a surfing trip to Rincon, Puerto Rico. But then, we're all sailors so who knows.
A's boat is pretty sweet. There's a diesel stove and a cool gimbaled cast iron camp stove that he made tea with. He's pretty pimped out with speakers hooked up all over. There's a lot of wood inside - it kind of feels like a mountain cabin. A very small one. I wanted to see the boat that belongs to the guy who sold him his, since I've heard a lot about the Ingrids. She's pretty sweet. And the owner had just stepped the gaff rigged mast, and made a big oar used for sculling. We also went inside Captain B's boat (A's brother) also a very nice boat. The Ketchup Eaters boat is still there of course - I had never before realized how appropriate the red paint job was. But the Badger was not in it's same slip.
Anyway, we're walking down the street and A says, "Here's a tip for when you go to Fiji..." and I thought to myself, Finally, I'm back to physically hanging out with someone who says things like "Here's a tip for when you go to Fiji..." rather than "gee, you sailed in the Caribbean this year?!?" Which is really no big deal and while beautiful, probably does not compare to places like the South Pacific and Madagascar or even the Inside Passage. But it sounds cool, right? It was just nice talking to someone who had sailed to more exciting places than I had. It's been a while since I'd experienced that In Person. My friend Brian goes all over, but there's something about Captain A - he's become a great storyteller. Plus he sails, whereas Brian works on research vessels. Personally, I'd love to do either at this point!
We had some beers at Boundary Bay Brewery (I highly recommend the Impressive Oatmeal Stout), then I was too drunk to drive, as I'd been drinking on an empty stomach and I'm a lightweight anyway. So we walked a bit, then he drove a bit, since he has a Learner's Permit, LoL (he sailed away at age 15 and hasn't spent much time on land since). We ended up at Anthony's for dinner - Crab Fettucine and Mahi Mahi tacos!! How decadent! And told sea stories and I mentioned how I'd like to go to Puerto Rico again some day, and drink Mojitos. A is really into mojitos, and I'd never had one, so he took me to a bar that's known for them and we had three each. I LOVE MOJITOS! We entertained the thought of getting a bunch of people together to go on a surfing trip to Rincon, Puerto Rico. But then, we're all sailors so who knows.
A's boat is pretty sweet. There's a diesel stove and a cool gimbaled cast iron camp stove that he made tea with. He's pretty pimped out with speakers hooked up all over. There's a lot of wood inside - it kind of feels like a mountain cabin. A very small one. I wanted to see the boat that belongs to the guy who sold him his, since I've heard a lot about the Ingrids. She's pretty sweet. And the owner had just stepped the gaff rigged mast, and made a big oar used for sculling. We also went inside Captain B's boat (A's brother) also a very nice boat. The Ketchup Eaters boat is still there of course - I had never before realized how appropriate the red paint job was. But the Badger was not in it's same slip.
Anyway, we're walking down the street and A says, "Here's a tip for when you go to Fiji..." and I thought to myself, Finally, I'm back to physically hanging out with someone who says things like "Here's a tip for when you go to Fiji..." rather than "gee, you sailed in the Caribbean this year?!?" Which is really no big deal and while beautiful, probably does not compare to places like the South Pacific and Madagascar or even the Inside Passage. But it sounds cool, right? It was just nice talking to someone who had sailed to more exciting places than I had. It's been a while since I'd experienced that In Person. My friend Brian goes all over, but there's something about Captain A - he's become a great storyteller. Plus he sails, whereas Brian works on research vessels. Personally, I'd love to do either at this point!
The Princess of Mars has Insight
I emailed her and in her response, found quotes - those ones that people attach as a signature to their emails:
I think-therefore I'm single.
-Lizz Winstead-
I've begun to think I've no right to roam, for I'm homesick at sea and seasick at home.
I think-therefore I'm single.
-Lizz Winstead-
I've begun to think I've no right to roam, for I'm homesick at sea and seasick at home.
Seattle Weekly notables
I should probably put this on my intentional community blog, but I rarely get around to posting there. This is a great article about a company that, although it promotes rampant unecessary consumerism, has taken the high road with employee and customer relations. I never would have guessed they were like this, and I've spent a lot of time there in the last year shopping for the boat, so I'm glad to hear they're more community oriented than their competitors.
My horoscope in the same issue was also right on. Just what I needed to hear:
"There'll be no deus ex machina here. You won't find a magic talisman that'll save your ass. Nor will anyone swoop in to rescue you; in fact, those around you who might be in a position to help are more likely to kick you while you're down. You have many distant well-wishers at the moment, but no proximate helping hands. You're on your own. Luckily, you've been in (and escaped from) worse scrapes than this. The only thing keeping you from pulling yourself out is the forlorn hope that someone might help you do it. Now that I've shattered that useless wish, you should be able to pick yourself up and move on, no problem."
My horoscope in the same issue was also right on. Just what I needed to hear:
"There'll be no deus ex machina here. You won't find a magic talisman that'll save your ass. Nor will anyone swoop in to rescue you; in fact, those around you who might be in a position to help are more likely to kick you while you're down. You have many distant well-wishers at the moment, but no proximate helping hands. You're on your own. Luckily, you've been in (and escaped from) worse scrapes than this. The only thing keeping you from pulling yourself out is the forlorn hope that someone might help you do it. Now that I've shattered that useless wish, you should be able to pick yourself up and move on, no problem."
Ready for That
Ahhhh- I've been feeling really gross-looking lately. Hopefully my congenial personality shines through and nobody notices my self loathing. HA is that possible? No. My father's wife has a problem with my negativity, but I hadn't noticed it. I love talking and listening to people, and observing things wherever I walk, imagining what I would write about them here even though my computer time is sparse. Then the other night I heard myself describing my UW job to my dad, and how I feel like I don't fit in sometimes because "everyone is always complimenting each other, and I'm not really into that". So in a way, she may be right. My sarcasm and surly comments probably come across negatively. Truthfully, I AM more negative during a dark, cold, rainy Seattle winter. But there's still a lot of fun to be had. I had good fun this weekend working at my other part-time temp job in a small warehouse. Nobody there puts a happy face over a bad mood. Everyone's "real". Maybe now I know what all those people I'd met before met when the said "you're really REAL, Kim". But then some people think I'm too nice to be for real, since I can also get so angry, so WHATEVER! Different degrees of interpretation/ideas of reality, I guess. I never get extremely upset unless somebody is unjustifiably and intentionally cruel to me or someone I care about... or just anyone who doesn't deserve it.
After working in an office for a few months, and sitting on the bus all day, I have become a Pasty Lardass. So I'm going to do situps and pushups and jumping jacks until I've re-earned the right to flirt back with the few guys who have been flirting with ME. You know, if I smiled more often and didn't pretend to be so disinterested then I'd probably be quite the dater. A guy has to be outrageously obvious when flirting with me, otherwise I'll convince myself it's not for real. This is where I'd like to channel the confidence of one of my favorite sailors: Young Miss AB Tall Magnolia. She's 6 feet tall, super strong and probably weighs in at close to 200 pounds, and looks like the tall ship sailor version of a Sport's Illustrated swimsuit model. I told her this last year after she got out of the shower in Marina del Rey, whipping her wet hair around. Miss Tall simply assumes that the boys would be silly to NOT be flirting with her. But she's not pretentious - she just has a very healthy body image.
Anyway, my last boyfriend spent a month flirting with me, and after a while I got very comfortable flirting back. That was fun for a while. Sometimes it seems that the flirting time is the best part of certain relationships. Or just the anticipation of asking someone out. I had a crush on a rockabilly boy in Waikiki for months before I finally told him I was interested. He asked me out immediately, for the next night. Yeah, then 2 weeks later the confusion and frustration began. It's my estimation that I will continue to have crushes and minor romances until I'm about 60, when I will finally grow up and settle in my ways a bit and want to have one person to share my life with. Someone told me that my old shipmate L.J. has a romantic image of himself turning into an old irish-canadian drunk at the bar every night, lonely on his barstool. My old-lady image is of me with a yippy mutt on a 30 foot liveaboard at Shilshole, hanging out with the other sailors in the marina, visiting my sister and her kids, volunteering. Working part time somewhere. It's been developing for years, but now I've become 99% sure that I will not have kids or get married for years and years. But sometimes I meet men who would definitely be worth getting to know better. I fleetingly think, what's the point? I always move somewhere or break up with the guy or realize that it all got too serious way too fast when it probably shouldn't have gone past friendly dating. I'd like some drama-free, friendly dating with one guy for a whole year. Now THAT would feel healthy. Nobody asking me to marry them, yet not afraid to show love out of fear that I'm going to ask THEM to love me forever. Just live in the moment, and be satisfied with that. I am SO ready for that.
After working in an office for a few months, and sitting on the bus all day, I have become a Pasty Lardass. So I'm going to do situps and pushups and jumping jacks until I've re-earned the right to flirt back with the few guys who have been flirting with ME. You know, if I smiled more often and didn't pretend to be so disinterested then I'd probably be quite the dater. A guy has to be outrageously obvious when flirting with me, otherwise I'll convince myself it's not for real. This is where I'd like to channel the confidence of one of my favorite sailors: Young Miss AB Tall Magnolia. She's 6 feet tall, super strong and probably weighs in at close to 200 pounds, and looks like the tall ship sailor version of a Sport's Illustrated swimsuit model. I told her this last year after she got out of the shower in Marina del Rey, whipping her wet hair around. Miss Tall simply assumes that the boys would be silly to NOT be flirting with her. But she's not pretentious - she just has a very healthy body image.
Anyway, my last boyfriend spent a month flirting with me, and after a while I got very comfortable flirting back. That was fun for a while. Sometimes it seems that the flirting time is the best part of certain relationships. Or just the anticipation of asking someone out. I had a crush on a rockabilly boy in Waikiki for months before I finally told him I was interested. He asked me out immediately, for the next night. Yeah, then 2 weeks later the confusion and frustration began. It's my estimation that I will continue to have crushes and minor romances until I'm about 60, when I will finally grow up and settle in my ways a bit and want to have one person to share my life with. Someone told me that my old shipmate L.J. has a romantic image of himself turning into an old irish-canadian drunk at the bar every night, lonely on his barstool. My old-lady image is of me with a yippy mutt on a 30 foot liveaboard at Shilshole, hanging out with the other sailors in the marina, visiting my sister and her kids, volunteering. Working part time somewhere. It's been developing for years, but now I've become 99% sure that I will not have kids or get married for years and years. But sometimes I meet men who would definitely be worth getting to know better. I fleetingly think, what's the point? I always move somewhere or break up with the guy or realize that it all got too serious way too fast when it probably shouldn't have gone past friendly dating. I'd like some drama-free, friendly dating with one guy for a whole year. Now THAT would feel healthy. Nobody asking me to marry them, yet not afraid to show love out of fear that I'm going to ask THEM to love me forever. Just live in the moment, and be satisfied with that. I am SO ready for that.
My Jeans
My Aunt M, who has spent the last 25 years working & living all over the world, finally came to visit yesterday, along with my Uncle T. Both are my dad's siblings. My dad's side of the family has always been a little disconnected, so yesterday was like a once-in-a-decade event. I learned that T's older daughters (my 4 girl cousins) are leading exciting lives: two live in southern Cali, have children, and interesting jobs. One is working as a flight navigator aboard KC-130's in Iraq (I took a trip on one of those when I was in the Air Force - they are aerial refeulers and VERY COOL), and the younger of the four is a foot and hand model in New York. LoL - interesting, eh?
Even more interesting (to me, anyway, which is all that matters to this blog) are the facts I have learned regarding all of my Great-Grandparents. I've been interested mainly for the purpose of preventative health, but found out a few odd facts along the way, with the help of my mom's mom and my aunt. Healthwise, it's a little scary, as all of my mom's uncles died of colon cancer, and several in my dad's line have suffered from alzheimers. There's been some physical abuse on both sides too. But the interesting facts are these:
On my mom's side, my gram's mother died when she was 9, from giving birth (she had a lot of kids). And my mom's dad was adopted - nobody knowing the real parents, and was shot to death in his 20's in Marion, Indiana.
On my dad's side, my grandpa's father married a woman from Ottawa (get that - I'm 1/8 Canadian! Can I have my free healthcare now?) and they lived on a farm in Kansas. My grandmother's parents were born in Italy, moved here & had more kids than they could afford during the depression, so they sent my grandmother to live with wealthier family in Wenatchee. So I'm one quarter Italian? Never would have guessed that! I guess they were German-Italian though. It would be interesting to learn more.
Aunt M lives in Holland nowadays, and close to the pilgrim settlement of Leiden. She says that the Dutch are very respectful of their history which links them to Americans: they have a memorial where the Pilgrims lived in Leiden, before sailing to America, they have a celebration in honor of a time and place where they hid American soldiers during World War 2, and even a ceremony at the gravesites of American soldiers during the same war.
Like my friend Pippi who comes from a long line of nomadic european gypsies, I have grand imaginings of my family history, some based on the above facts, but most on the whole romantic Mayflower connection. It's fun to imagine how the Pilgrims escaped England, decendents of followers of Martin Luther, maybe? And I did some very light research and found a webpage that reads:
"As a Mayflower descendant, I have had a longstanding interest in learning more about the Pilgrims, the native people they found when they landed, and how they managed to live together in acceptable harmony. Unless we learned about those days in our schoolrooms, or we had some other source of learning, we may know little about two important contributions to America's heritage: self government and a tolerant relationship with the Wampanoag native people of southwestern Massachusetts. These achievements produced peace that lasted longer than other English settlers enjoyed elsewhere in the colonies."
He goes on to speak about a peace treaty that existed successfully between the pilgrims and the natives for over 50 years (by which time a lot more of whitey came over to push for what we have today).
So they too were interested in self-governing community life AND sailing (as a means of escape, anyway!).
Even more interesting (to me, anyway, which is all that matters to this blog) are the facts I have learned regarding all of my Great-Grandparents. I've been interested mainly for the purpose of preventative health, but found out a few odd facts along the way, with the help of my mom's mom and my aunt. Healthwise, it's a little scary, as all of my mom's uncles died of colon cancer, and several in my dad's line have suffered from alzheimers. There's been some physical abuse on both sides too. But the interesting facts are these:
On my mom's side, my gram's mother died when she was 9, from giving birth (she had a lot of kids). And my mom's dad was adopted - nobody knowing the real parents, and was shot to death in his 20's in Marion, Indiana.
On my dad's side, my grandpa's father married a woman from Ottawa (get that - I'm 1/8 Canadian! Can I have my free healthcare now?) and they lived on a farm in Kansas. My grandmother's parents were born in Italy, moved here & had more kids than they could afford during the depression, so they sent my grandmother to live with wealthier family in Wenatchee. So I'm one quarter Italian? Never would have guessed that! I guess they were German-Italian though. It would be interesting to learn more.
Aunt M lives in Holland nowadays, and close to the pilgrim settlement of Leiden. She says that the Dutch are very respectful of their history which links them to Americans: they have a memorial where the Pilgrims lived in Leiden, before sailing to America, they have a celebration in honor of a time and place where they hid American soldiers during World War 2, and even a ceremony at the gravesites of American soldiers during the same war.
Like my friend Pippi who comes from a long line of nomadic european gypsies, I have grand imaginings of my family history, some based on the above facts, but most on the whole romantic Mayflower connection. It's fun to imagine how the Pilgrims escaped England, decendents of followers of Martin Luther, maybe? And I did some very light research and found a webpage that reads:
"As a Mayflower descendant, I have had a longstanding interest in learning more about the Pilgrims, the native people they found when they landed, and how they managed to live together in acceptable harmony. Unless we learned about those days in our schoolrooms, or we had some other source of learning, we may know little about two important contributions to America's heritage: self government and a tolerant relationship with the Wampanoag native people of southwestern Massachusetts. These achievements produced peace that lasted longer than other English settlers enjoyed elsewhere in the colonies."
He goes on to speak about a peace treaty that existed successfully between the pilgrims and the natives for over 50 years (by which time a lot more of whitey came over to push for what we have today).
So they too were interested in self-governing community life AND sailing (as a means of escape, anyway!).
My Apple, My Soil
My favorite astrologer can be found at the Seattle Weekly site. Here's mine for this week:
"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. That's how the adage goes. Well, it's bullshit. You are not saddled with your parents' legacy—be it cancer, insanity, or Republicanism. You can be the apple that tumbled from the branch, rolled down a hill, fell into a boat, and switched continents. You're your own damn tree, and even though you're stuck with a few difficult-to-change factors that you inherited from your folks, you're rooted in different soil, getting different doses of sunlight, water, and care. Besides which, you've got free will. Stop feeling limited by what you can't change—which is very little—and start reveling in the illimitable possibilities of what you can."
"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. That's how the adage goes. Well, it's bullshit. You are not saddled with your parents' legacy—be it cancer, insanity, or Republicanism. You can be the apple that tumbled from the branch, rolled down a hill, fell into a boat, and switched continents. You're your own damn tree, and even though you're stuck with a few difficult-to-change factors that you inherited from your folks, you're rooted in different soil, getting different doses of sunlight, water, and care. Besides which, you've got free will. Stop feeling limited by what you can't change—which is very little—and start reveling in the illimitable possibilities of what you can."
Loose in her Stays
You know you've got it bad when you find yourself standing in the rain, with your rainboots on, and your foulie hat dripping, singing Barretts Privateers... and you're waiting for the bus.
Kimcheez
P-Funk and I have been trying to find out who in our lives is best represented by Sex & the City characters. I am a seafaring Miranda. She is a mix of many. I have an old friend, now living in Ireland, who qualifies as my "Mr. Big". I thought our old roomie Kirzah had a bit of Carrie in her, and maybe Sabrine had some Carrie and Samantha. I think all the girls who ever lived upstairs at Kahuna were like Charlotte.
This is what keeps us office prisoners busy. Last year I had a good friend at the Princess Cruises office who would relate an entire episode of Six Feet Under every time I visited her desk. Why do people get so attached to TV & Movies when they live more domesticated lives? Because it's a favorite pasttime maybe? Especially up in cold, wet Seattle during winter.
One of my pet peeves is those people who, unsolicited for this information, say "I never watch TV". As though they are culturally far above it. This also goes for the people who say "I never wear makeup" and "I hate to shop" and "I have a hard time getting along with other women". I can guarantee you that 90% of the time, they all OWN televisions, an expensive array of toiletries and cosmetics, along with too much other crap that they shopped for, in their house. As for me, I'm one of the biggest tomboys I know of, but I watch my favorite TV shows whenever I can get near someone else's TV, I always wear a little makeup (unless I'm stuck at the helm in the rain for 3 hours), and I LOVE to shop even if I only have $20 to spend.
This is what keeps us office prisoners busy. Last year I had a good friend at the Princess Cruises office who would relate an entire episode of Six Feet Under every time I visited her desk. Why do people get so attached to TV & Movies when they live more domesticated lives? Because it's a favorite pasttime maybe? Especially up in cold, wet Seattle during winter.
One of my pet peeves is those people who, unsolicited for this information, say "I never watch TV". As though they are culturally far above it. This also goes for the people who say "I never wear makeup" and "I hate to shop" and "I have a hard time getting along with other women". I can guarantee you that 90% of the time, they all OWN televisions, an expensive array of toiletries and cosmetics, along with too much other crap that they shopped for, in their house. As for me, I'm one of the biggest tomboys I know of, but I watch my favorite TV shows whenever I can get near someone else's TV, I always wear a little makeup (unless I'm stuck at the helm in the rain for 3 hours), and I LOVE to shop even if I only have $20 to spend.
Free Espresso
Volunteered at the DVD release benefit at the Naval Reserve Building tonight. Met some nice people - learned about a monthly chantey sing, met two cool women, Katia from Vashon by way of Germany or Holland, I think, and Brooke from Fremont, soon to be Alki. We helped set up, I made a lot of coffee for the espresso catering guy and the guy working with him. The guy working with him had huge scratch marks across his face and was missing an ear - but I thought it was fascinating and was going to say "Would I be a big bitch if I asked how you lost your ear?" but I decided against it, because the catering dude was always running around, all chaotic and anxious. The little dude was cute, though - he had nice eyes and looked like he'd been in a fight with a cougar, which for some reason seemed cool. As an aside, I was strangely attracted to a midget the other day too. Hey! He was cute and nice. I don't know. I'm in that part of my cycle that makes me really amorous I guess. It's not like I'm acting on any of this though.
But back to the benefit.
The Naval Reserve building is awesome. It's built to look like part of a ship. Instructed to retrieve a 4 foot tall sloop model upstairs, I found dark hallways lit with red lights, and a series of metal ladders leading to the rooftop, which provides a 360 degree view of downtown and Lake Union. Pretty sweet. The catering was OK. Free espresso, chocolate covered strawberries, tangerines and chinese food bought in the International District (someone found a sauteed roach so I skipped the Chinese food). Man, if I wasn't volunteering or working in an office where I got a lot of leftover catering from high class meetings and parties, I'd probably starve! On the contrary - I'm not losing an ounce these days. Although we had a tray of expensive stinky cheese at work yesterday that I veered off from - growing intolerance for dairy and all...
The Center for Wooden Boats hired someone else for that job - they just decided today on a woman who has 17 years of applicable experience. There was no question about it; she was well qualified and willing to work for the $12/hr. I'm glad they've got someone good to help them grow. That girl Brooke interviewed for the same job, and she shared my feelings in not being chosen.
Nanette and I have been watching a lot of Sex & The City DVDs. I saw my favorite episode again - where they discuss "soul mates" and Charlotte says at lunch "Why don't we be each other's soul mates, then when we meet the nice guys, we can just have fun with them?" And Carrie ends the show saying how life feels a little lighter when you know you have those solid soul mates nailed down, and you're free to simply enjoy the dates and men that come along. I have a couple soul mates, P-Funk especially, regardless of where each of us lives. But if I lived closer to Sasha or Pru, we would definitely see one another or talk almost daily. And Nanette is very special too. With all the moving I do, I think I'm very lucky to have them, along with the half dozen new, awesome friends I've made in this last year.
But back to the benefit.
The Naval Reserve building is awesome. It's built to look like part of a ship. Instructed to retrieve a 4 foot tall sloop model upstairs, I found dark hallways lit with red lights, and a series of metal ladders leading to the rooftop, which provides a 360 degree view of downtown and Lake Union. Pretty sweet. The catering was OK. Free espresso, chocolate covered strawberries, tangerines and chinese food bought in the International District (someone found a sauteed roach so I skipped the Chinese food). Man, if I wasn't volunteering or working in an office where I got a lot of leftover catering from high class meetings and parties, I'd probably starve! On the contrary - I'm not losing an ounce these days. Although we had a tray of expensive stinky cheese at work yesterday that I veered off from - growing intolerance for dairy and all...
The Center for Wooden Boats hired someone else for that job - they just decided today on a woman who has 17 years of applicable experience. There was no question about it; she was well qualified and willing to work for the $12/hr. I'm glad they've got someone good to help them grow. That girl Brooke interviewed for the same job, and she shared my feelings in not being chosen.
Nanette and I have been watching a lot of Sex & The City DVDs. I saw my favorite episode again - where they discuss "soul mates" and Charlotte says at lunch "Why don't we be each other's soul mates, then when we meet the nice guys, we can just have fun with them?" And Carrie ends the show saying how life feels a little lighter when you know you have those solid soul mates nailed down, and you're free to simply enjoy the dates and men that come along. I have a couple soul mates, P-Funk especially, regardless of where each of us lives. But if I lived closer to Sasha or Pru, we would definitely see one another or talk almost daily. And Nanette is very special too. With all the moving I do, I think I'm very lucky to have them, along with the half dozen new, awesome friends I've made in this last year.
What I Read on the Bus
All us boat trash already know well the movie line that has recently been voted most cheesy.
"I'M KING OF THE WORLD!"
(if I only had a nickel for every passenger who emitted this)
Here's some better lines from a great book I just started - The Water In Between by Kevin Patterson...
after deciding to buy a boat from this old storytelling salt near Vic and sail it to Tahiti, never having sailed before:
"I asked him what one did out there alone at night. When you went to sleep, did you put out a sea anchor or what? He took a moment, as if contemplating his response, and then asked when I could get the check to him."
after the part of Slocum's book where he discusses the benefits of a wind vane self-steering system, and how he took Spray over 2 thousand miles with only 3 hours at the helm:
"He just lashed her helm in place, then trimmed her sails so she was balanced out, and would go where he wanted. Think about the difference this would make: either fighting the boat to port and starboard or just letting go of her and have her go where you want. In such circumstances, how could you not feel that you were living right?"
Later he explains a trip to a chandlery, the brass hanks and shackles, the smell of pine tar and how "...everything gleams and speaks of purpose."
ACK! 3 posts in one night! A lot of cut & paste, mind you.
"I'M KING OF THE WORLD!"
(if I only had a nickel for every passenger who emitted this)
Here's some better lines from a great book I just started - The Water In Between by Kevin Patterson...
after deciding to buy a boat from this old storytelling salt near Vic and sail it to Tahiti, never having sailed before:
"I asked him what one did out there alone at night. When you went to sleep, did you put out a sea anchor or what? He took a moment, as if contemplating his response, and then asked when I could get the check to him."
after the part of Slocum's book where he discusses the benefits of a wind vane self-steering system, and how he took Spray over 2 thousand miles with only 3 hours at the helm:
"He just lashed her helm in place, then trimmed her sails so she was balanced out, and would go where he wanted. Think about the difference this would make: either fighting the boat to port and starboard or just letting go of her and have her go where you want. In such circumstances, how could you not feel that you were living right?"
Later he explains a trip to a chandlery, the brass hanks and shackles, the smell of pine tar and how "...everything gleams and speaks of purpose."
ACK! 3 posts in one night! A lot of cut & paste, mind you.
Two Great Tastes....
I just made an extra chocolaty hot cup of Ghiradelli cocoa and put a big spoonful of pumpkin cheesecake in it.
Trust my instincts
I don't know why it takes years for certain people to "get" things, and others just seem to be born in the know. I was going to see a therapist, but there doesn't seem to be a problem with my self-analyzation skills. My faults are easily identified: self-righteousness, lack of ambition (when it comes to the American Dream), the latter tying into my lack of willpower and follow-through. My lifetime of short-lived romances and my resulting distaste for committed coupledom in general probably stems from a childhood of disconnected, dysfunctional family environments. Join the club, right? Yeah, that's what I'm saying. A therapist could only tell me the same things Dr. Phil could say in his motivational books. There's not much left for me to "identify" or "acknowledge". All there is is to DEAL. To improve. I'm not so sure I'm willing to trust a random name out of the phone book with a college degree to show me the path. Especially when almost everyone around me seems even more fucked up than me. Is there something in the water here?
At the forefront of my thoughts lately has been how I have screwed up by not trusting my instincts in the past. I've ignored red flags, been accommodating when I shouldn't have - which I think is due to parental disappointment when it comes to my financial security & lack of benefits, and also to the fact that I believe each of us is responsible for most things that happen in our lives. In a wierd way that turns on me, in some kind of self-blame/guilt complex that has me making allowances in unhealthy friendships. In short, it may just be Insecurity. Insecurity is a very broad term. I don't feel weak, like the word implies, but I'm definitely lacking in important strengths.
YAWN... that's all well and good but it's best to look FORWARD, not back. Lately I have been doing what feels right for me when it comes to relationships. Now I have to decide what feels right when it comes to work. The other day I found a floppy with pics of me last spring. Holy crap I look like I'm 25 years old in those pictures. What the heck happened? I feel like I've aged a million years in the last year. I'm back at the same thing I said in my 20's: "These are the years when I still have my active body and brain - I need to take full advantage of that!"
Quite honestly, I don't care about health insurance. If I got cancer I'd probably just let it run it's course, because for some wierd reason I always thought I'd die young anyway. That is not a cry for help. I'm not depressed. Everyone thinks of their life choices and philosophies in their own way, and I've never bothered trying to explain mine to someone who's set on being financially secure, providing, feeling settled, etc, etc. True, I don't like being poor. But I like feeling sedentary even less.
At the forefront of my thoughts lately has been how I have screwed up by not trusting my instincts in the past. I've ignored red flags, been accommodating when I shouldn't have - which I think is due to parental disappointment when it comes to my financial security & lack of benefits, and also to the fact that I believe each of us is responsible for most things that happen in our lives. In a wierd way that turns on me, in some kind of self-blame/guilt complex that has me making allowances in unhealthy friendships. In short, it may just be Insecurity. Insecurity is a very broad term. I don't feel weak, like the word implies, but I'm definitely lacking in important strengths.
YAWN... that's all well and good but it's best to look FORWARD, not back. Lately I have been doing what feels right for me when it comes to relationships. Now I have to decide what feels right when it comes to work. The other day I found a floppy with pics of me last spring. Holy crap I look like I'm 25 years old in those pictures. What the heck happened? I feel like I've aged a million years in the last year. I'm back at the same thing I said in my 20's: "These are the years when I still have my active body and brain - I need to take full advantage of that!"
Quite honestly, I don't care about health insurance. If I got cancer I'd probably just let it run it's course, because for some wierd reason I always thought I'd die young anyway. That is not a cry for help. I'm not depressed. Everyone thinks of their life choices and philosophies in their own way, and I've never bothered trying to explain mine to someone who's set on being financially secure, providing, feeling settled, etc, etc. True, I don't like being poor. But I like feeling sedentary even less.
Loomings...?
I’m itching to get on the water again, or just somewhere warm. Anybody got any leads on deck positions or maintenance positions available? Had my final interview with that particular non prof I was interested in yesterday. Don’t know how I did, and I’m no longer sure that job would necessarily reduce the eye strain and nighttime jaw clenching that has been tormenting me for the last year. I didn’t figure that a non-profit admin job with a small organization that pays less than $12/hr would involve a series of interviews, including being interviewed by a panel, which was definitely a new experience for me. Yeah, I was a little intimidated and unprepared for the questions that obviously required research, but on top of that I just don’t know if I want to get overloaded in an office job, even if it’s at a great place. This is a crucial decision, because should they offer it to me, it’s an opportunity to be successful in a certain field. It’s a career choice that doesn’t involve getting more seatime or traveling much in the near future, though.
Hung out with Captain MM again, before he heads up to PT to see Marko, Ta & the Sigmeister. Strange girl emailed everyone she knew who might be interested in a 2nd mate’s position that the SOREN LARSEN is desperately trying to fill. Wouldn’t it be freakin’ great to be in NZ? Preparing for a south pacific itinerary? The Young Anarchists are still in Spain workin on a farm. Captain A. is still down in South Africa working on a ranch I think.
I wrote a little more about life in Hawaii on the home computer, then brought it to work to transfer to the blog…
Kahuna Lane, part 2, Sabrine
Sabrine was another roommate at the Kahuna Lane house in Hawaii. It took us a month to really start hanging out. She was a very motivated and ambitious young woman. She focused on success at school, and the upkeep of her mental and physical health. Every morning she got up at 6am, made breakfast, studied, went to school, sometimes jogging after school, then worked the rest of the night. When I met her she was working at a nightclub serving drinks. After donning these gorgeous, sexy little dresses she rode her big clunky bike to the middle of crazy Waikiki at 10pm, fight off the military guys hitting on her all night, then ride her bike 3 miles back to the house. I’d get worried about someone stalking her after she left the club at 2am, but she never seemed concerned.
New roommates, like myself, would eventually become socially accepted by engaging in conversation during mealtimes. Or we’d invite friends over, and after introducing our roomies to our friends, they would come socialize where everyone else was hanging out. When I moved into the house, my closest friend was a Keanu Reeves lookalike whom I’ll call Travolta (he does a great JT Grease era impression). Travolta was well liked by the Kahuna Lane girls. They enjoyed visiting with him and he liked coming over. We’d be on our way to the mountains or a beach, or the bar, and often one of the roomies would join us. Sabrine rarely went out for beers. Instead, we would walk to the holistic food store or ride our bikes to the beach and read. She liked her privacy, and was confident. She had spent a little time in Italy, and loved Italian cooking. When I first moved in she asked me to fill in for her at her 2nd job – a dishwasher at an authentic Italian restaurant. It was Valentine’s Day and ended up being a ton of work. The couple that owned the place and their prep cook were all yelling in Italian at each other throughout the evening. Sabrine very much liked the couple and their typical Italian ways, she loved the food, and she enjoyed when friends came in to eat at the small restaurant. I worked for her once or twice, but for me the pay wasn’t worth washing all them dirty dishes.
When Sabrine’s mother and brother came to visit from the East Coast, she took them all over the island, but it proved a traumatic visit for her. She was black, from a very poor family, and always grateful for the financial aide that allowed her to go to school, but had become far more worldly and educated than anyone in her family. Now her family was so different from her. While at a laid back surfer café where locals were playing guitar for the patrons, the café staff half-jokingly asked if anyone wanted to get up and sing. Sabrine’s brother, who was quite religious and loved to sing, volunteered. He butchered a hymn at the top of his lungs while Sabrine, mortified, sat with her coffee. Later she cried; embarrassed of her family, and also deeply ashamed of her selfish unacceptance of her loved ones.
One time we talked about how ironic it is how kids from middle class families like me never understand survival or need while growing up. We take comfort for granted, become slackers, even denounce the whole capitalist/consumerist American dream. Then there’s the kids who grew up always wanting, especially if they were minorities – many make a personal commitment to never be needy again. Like immigrants, they recognize opportunity and have a strong desire to succeed. While attending the fashion institute in New York (it may sound like “beauty college” but it’s the premier fashion college in the western hemisphere) she worked with Anna Sui and lived among models (she lived next door to that youngest Victoria Secret/Guess model from South America). She had an excellent sense of style and taught me to show off my body more, though I wasn’t daring enough to try all her suggestions. She forced me to not be intimidated by stores like Diesel, BCBG, and Bebe and would lead me directly to the sales tables in the back of those boutiques. We had never had high-end shopping in Seattle, but Honolulu is a shopping mecca for the Japanese. Clothes fit for American girls never sold, so they’d end up practically giving them away.
I owe her for turning me into a girl again. After all, I was still a strong believer in the fanny pack when she met me. My fashion sense still isn’t all that great and there’s days when I’d love to channel her motivation, but knowing her surely improved me. I always sensed, and always told her that she was going to be crazy successful one day. I imagine her as the head of an art gallery or modern museum. P-Funk, another roommate and mutual friend, said that Sabrine had moved to Australia, and was going to school there. Besides P-Funk and her man (who started their own production company), I think Sabrine is destined to be famous. I’m sure I’ll hear of her again. I’d love to see her, P-Funk, myself and the Jersey Girls sitting at a diner in NY someday, just like the Sex & the City girls ;)
Hung out with Captain MM again, before he heads up to PT to see Marko, Ta & the Sigmeister. Strange girl emailed everyone she knew who might be interested in a 2nd mate’s position that the SOREN LARSEN is desperately trying to fill. Wouldn’t it be freakin’ great to be in NZ? Preparing for a south pacific itinerary? The Young Anarchists are still in Spain workin on a farm. Captain A. is still down in South Africa working on a ranch I think.
I wrote a little more about life in Hawaii on the home computer, then brought it to work to transfer to the blog…
Kahuna Lane, part 2, Sabrine
Sabrine was another roommate at the Kahuna Lane house in Hawaii. It took us a month to really start hanging out. She was a very motivated and ambitious young woman. She focused on success at school, and the upkeep of her mental and physical health. Every morning she got up at 6am, made breakfast, studied, went to school, sometimes jogging after school, then worked the rest of the night. When I met her she was working at a nightclub serving drinks. After donning these gorgeous, sexy little dresses she rode her big clunky bike to the middle of crazy Waikiki at 10pm, fight off the military guys hitting on her all night, then ride her bike 3 miles back to the house. I’d get worried about someone stalking her after she left the club at 2am, but she never seemed concerned.
New roommates, like myself, would eventually become socially accepted by engaging in conversation during mealtimes. Or we’d invite friends over, and after introducing our roomies to our friends, they would come socialize where everyone else was hanging out. When I moved into the house, my closest friend was a Keanu Reeves lookalike whom I’ll call Travolta (he does a great JT Grease era impression). Travolta was well liked by the Kahuna Lane girls. They enjoyed visiting with him and he liked coming over. We’d be on our way to the mountains or a beach, or the bar, and often one of the roomies would join us. Sabrine rarely went out for beers. Instead, we would walk to the holistic food store or ride our bikes to the beach and read. She liked her privacy, and was confident. She had spent a little time in Italy, and loved Italian cooking. When I first moved in she asked me to fill in for her at her 2nd job – a dishwasher at an authentic Italian restaurant. It was Valentine’s Day and ended up being a ton of work. The couple that owned the place and their prep cook were all yelling in Italian at each other throughout the evening. Sabrine very much liked the couple and their typical Italian ways, she loved the food, and she enjoyed when friends came in to eat at the small restaurant. I worked for her once or twice, but for me the pay wasn’t worth washing all them dirty dishes.
When Sabrine’s mother and brother came to visit from the East Coast, she took them all over the island, but it proved a traumatic visit for her. She was black, from a very poor family, and always grateful for the financial aide that allowed her to go to school, but had become far more worldly and educated than anyone in her family. Now her family was so different from her. While at a laid back surfer café where locals were playing guitar for the patrons, the café staff half-jokingly asked if anyone wanted to get up and sing. Sabrine’s brother, who was quite religious and loved to sing, volunteered. He butchered a hymn at the top of his lungs while Sabrine, mortified, sat with her coffee. Later she cried; embarrassed of her family, and also deeply ashamed of her selfish unacceptance of her loved ones.
One time we talked about how ironic it is how kids from middle class families like me never understand survival or need while growing up. We take comfort for granted, become slackers, even denounce the whole capitalist/consumerist American dream. Then there’s the kids who grew up always wanting, especially if they were minorities – many make a personal commitment to never be needy again. Like immigrants, they recognize opportunity and have a strong desire to succeed. While attending the fashion institute in New York (it may sound like “beauty college” but it’s the premier fashion college in the western hemisphere) she worked with Anna Sui and lived among models (she lived next door to that youngest Victoria Secret/Guess model from South America). She had an excellent sense of style and taught me to show off my body more, though I wasn’t daring enough to try all her suggestions. She forced me to not be intimidated by stores like Diesel, BCBG, and Bebe and would lead me directly to the sales tables in the back of those boutiques. We had never had high-end shopping in Seattle, but Honolulu is a shopping mecca for the Japanese. Clothes fit for American girls never sold, so they’d end up practically giving them away.
I owe her for turning me into a girl again. After all, I was still a strong believer in the fanny pack when she met me. My fashion sense still isn’t all that great and there’s days when I’d love to channel her motivation, but knowing her surely improved me. I always sensed, and always told her that she was going to be crazy successful one day. I imagine her as the head of an art gallery or modern museum. P-Funk, another roommate and mutual friend, said that Sabrine had moved to Australia, and was going to school there. Besides P-Funk and her man (who started their own production company), I think Sabrine is destined to be famous. I’m sure I’ll hear of her again. I’d love to see her, P-Funk, myself and the Jersey Girls sitting at a diner in NY someday, just like the Sex & the City girls ;)
