The top of Hollywood

Last Saturday I hiked up the Mt. Hollywood Trail to the Observatory atop Griffith Park. Okay, it was really more like an upward stroll, since "hikes" in LA are really just pre-made trails and nothing like what I've done in Mexico, Northern California, Wales, or Utah. But when I need to "escape" from the city, and I say "escape" because you never really escape the city, I take a hike.

This morning I decided to jog up the Mt. Hollywood trail, and let me tell you it is a steep trail, and uphill from the moment I leave my apartment steps all the way to the top. There was a moment when I thought I'd pass out (forgot to eat something before I left, forgot? or too full from the reception last night at work, hmmmm), but I kept going, pushing through the burn in the back of my legs and my shakey calves ( I was always told that the first time jogging up the hill would be the toughest, heh, very true).

Last night I stayed up late talking to my new friend whom I will call Jolly. We were talking about not getting in the comfortable mode people using relax into in this city. The "I'm saving so I can do that later," or "someday I'll be doing this..." etc. It's hard to push past that state of being, I mean, if you really aren't getting paid enough you can't travel, or buy a house, or that car...NOW, but we noticed that when we didn't push past the complacency and put ourselves past to the point of discomfort we didn't go anywhere. I likened it to working out. You life weights, or you jog, or whatever, and it hurts, but the most growth happens at the point when you really think you can't go on and you do anyway.

It happened to me this summer, when I knew I needed to find a job, and for a month things were reallly tough financially and I had no idea how I would live in my new expensive rent apartment. I could've easily taken any number of typical artist jobs in LA and started getting paid....but I waited it out till I found what I wanted. And it hurt. Not being able to go out with friends hurt as much as pain in my legs. Putting in only 20 bucks at a time of gas was like getting to the out of breath point. Only being able to take 8 dollars in quarters out for laundry from the bank, and having to answer "i can't afford to." to the cashier at wellsfargo who asked why I didn't take out 10 dollars worth, ew, that hurt. But sho nuff. Now I have a job, that I am happy to have, because it was what I was looking for, and it's taking me closer to where I want to be.

The best things really do happen when we're willing to take ourselves to an unsure, uncomfortable place....only then can we discover.

Happy Area Code Day!

Today is Area Code. I am unsure how Americans in the past have celebrated this holiday- their rituals, their practices, their beliefs- so I have no suggestions except for the following....

Today, pay tribute to your area code by staying within its limits for the entire day.

or

Visit and area code you've NEVER been too.

or

Add up the numbers to your area code and find out what it's numerological meaning is here.

This month is also Vegan Month and Impotency Month and Peanut Butter Lover's month- decide for yourself how to celebrate these.

Thanks.

I can't blog when I know I have other things I should be doing...but I have some things to get off my mind, clear it up, so that I can move on.

I guess all I need to say is: this week has taught me a lot about myself. About how I hadn't been respecting myself like I shouldve been. About how I haven't been trusting myself, my instincts, my path. About how i haven't been showing love, and consequently I have not been getting it.

So, in an effort to love and respect myself and others....everyday from now to Thanksgiving I am going to find a way to give, or show love.

Walking on Graves

Last night I went to Dia de Los Muertos at the Hollywood Forever Cemetary in Hollywood. I was alone for about 3 hours before my friends showed up, which allowed me to reflect on the occasion...and I didn't realize at the start, but a lot more.

Dia de Los Muertos is such a perfect "Mexican" tradition- the fusion of Catholic and native Mexican practices. Family or loved ones of the deceased return to their graves on the day of the dead and bring Marigolds and their favorite foods and Day of the Dead bread and share a meal in their honor, as well as sing songs and celebrate their lives. The popular saying of the holiday is that we have three deaths: 1. When our bodies cease to function. 2. When we're lowered into the ground. 3. When we are no longer remembered. Dia de los Muertos is the celebration and remembrance of those lost.

Now, at the Hollywood Cemetary there are probably very little Mexicans buried there, I might be wrong. But people build these huge altars and shrines to loved one, deceased artists, pets, Iraq war soldiers, grandparents, children...in honor of the dead while the Dia de los muertos parade dances around the premises and the three stages (two on ponds) play Mexican music and show traditional dancers allll night. I went last year too, and loved it. I just love my culture so much- that they celebrate the way they do, that there is an identity that identifies the people in it and is inherent in the music, dance, food, way of life, and celebrations.

Walking down the road, checking out the shrines, I began to get emotional (cry actually), realizing that it had been a while since I let myself go there. I thought of Chase and my Abuelita Mague, both who died this year, and how they deserve a shrine, a big one with Marigolds- Pink's hot dogs for Chase and pan de dulce for my great-grandmother. Walking over graves to get to the stages, I thought of how beautiful it must be to become the earth again. I want a green funeral, so that I can completely fuse with the soil and have marigolds grow out of my earth morphing flesh. How beautiful.

It was hard holding back the rush of tears in public. See, I think I never really allowed myself to mourn last Spring. Chase died a week before Lita, so that whole month of February instead of becoming overwhelmed by death, I respectfully moved on. I thought, if I live practicing the things they taught me....then they live on. And I suppose that is my shrine, my altar, to them.

All that thinking about mortality, led me to think about my life...what I am doing...what I am being remembered for....if I am leading the life I truly desire in my deepest parts. And it dawned on me that what the festival provided me, that I have been missing out here in LA, is a spiritual perspective on life, that used to dominate every move I made and now only serves as an ambience. I want that back! I want to be connected to my higher power every moment. I want to seek out joy and peace and goodness moment by moment. I want to have faith and peace again that I am being protected, that God is looking out for me-whatever that might mean.

No doubt that he is...I know he is...I am being blessed every day here in LA.

Last night- facing death, mortality, which such joy and beauty helped make me fearless again.

Words of Honey

Today I taught two drama classes of about 40 kids each.

AAAAAH!

I don't ever remember being so unfocused and rowdy. I remember going to drama class at age 8 (these were 3rd and 4th graders) and studying my lines when I played Watson in Crucible of Blood while doing "Kids On Stage." And I remember taking notes, and focusing on my breath, and making clever and imaginative choices. And most of all, listening to the teacher. I handled these rambuctous(spelling?) kids just fine, though I threw out all my deeper theater stuff early on and did the "Banana" exercise with them which they kept wanting to do. At times, I wished they were high schoolers and really comitted to making the sounds I asked them to make, and making a proper circle (why can't kids stand in a proper circle?).

I always though I was good with kids, I've taught them many times....Mission Possible....Youth Camp....Afterschool Program I helped create with American Leadership Forum....etc, but I doubted myself so much on the way home. Maybe I come off too agressive now. Maybe I expect too much. Have I grown out of my ability to teach children?

The wierd thing is they somehow get attached to me (sort of how cats come how love me though I am TERRIBLY allergic to them.) They walked out of the room asking me to come back next week(I was just a substitute teacher) and having them try to teach me to whistle and offer me their snacks.

Who knows. I particularly feel agressive today because last night a friend tried to make me accept a judgment he had of me, and I just wouldn't take it. This has happened twice now:

In conversation I say something like: See, I believe that once a show opens its no longer the directors play, it's the actors andthey arent necessarily doing what the director told them to, because in the end he/she can only do so much, they take it from there.

FRIEND: See, there you go...you always have a way fo putting words into my mouth when we're arguing.

ME: What do you mean?

FRIEND: I never said otherwise about directors.

ME: I never said you did, I was just telling you what I thought.

FRIEND: But you twist it so you put it in my mouth, when we're arguing.

ME: Uh, I wasn't arguing, I know you didn't say that, I was just telling you what I though.

FRIEND: But you're talking to me, which means that whatever you say was a reaction to what I say and I never said that.

MEL Uh, that's not always true, quit taking it personally.

FRIEND: I'm not taking it personally, you just need to realize what you always do in arguments and how you're not aware of how you manipulate things.

ME: We weren't arguing! I know you didn't say that! I was talking about my beliefs without it having to do with yoU! So if you take it personally it's not about me it's about you and Ihave NOTHING to do with that.

FRIEND: You just can't accept your part in this.

ME: I have no part.

FRIEND: I amjust trying to suggest something to you-

ME: That was not a suggestion, it was a judgment.

FRIEND: No, I was just giving you advice about what you should do-

ME: You? Because you're so wonderful? I have to go....

CLICK

I have no patience for irrational victim situations. But I drove home thinking, am I that agressive in my speak that someone can take something sooo personally without me having the intention?

It reminded me of the time with my ex boyfriend. We're sitting in a coffee shop and he's looking at a magazine and there are orchids on the cover. I say: Oh! I love orchids. How their pollinators match the specific flowers they pollinate, and how theyve evolved to even look and smell like the animals that pollinate them...and how.... BOYFRIEND SAYS DEFENSIVELY: Yeah I know. Okay. ME: Are you upset? BOYFRIEND: You don't have to talk to me like I don't know, I know that about orchids. ME: But I was just telling you I loved orchids.....(from them on I stopped talking about things I was passionate about because I was afraid he'd take it personal, that ended soon after.)

Apparently the kids dealt with it better than the adults. I'd say Be Quiet!! and they wouldn't. But then I would say, see this is what I think about theater....and a kid would say, but what about this and that....not omigod youre putting words into my mouth and treating me like an idiot.

There's an old testament verse, or maybe new, about making all your words like honey. Years ago I wrote that in a journal as one of my goals.....I still want to have soothing words of honey, a way of speak that is natural, sweet, thick, fluid, soothing, coating...But I can't control the taste buds that are tasting it.

The Habits of a Highly Effective Teen

I've always been a pretty strange kid. In a good way, strange. More like a little adult, but obviously still a kid- and not like those kids that act like adults and it's annoying. More like, I was wierd because I wanted to be more kid like, and think thats what went wrong when i had my "gansta" phase in early middle school.

In High School, my father gave me a Franklin Planner. A very expensive planning system that if you commit yourself to you commit yourself to buying years of paper fillers. I had so much to do in High School, it was a great gift, and I actually found it very touching since my father had been using one for years. Soon, I became just as attached to it as he.

The next gift he gave me that year was the book "The Seven habits of Highly Effective teens." That's the teens version of the adult book by Sean Covey, who shortly after I graduated from high school merged with Franklin to form the Franklin Covey Planning System and life skills/time management company. I read that book thoroughly and practiced it's suggestions, living my life being pro-active, thinking in "win/win" and "sharpening my saw." One of the suggestions they give is to write a mission statement. A mission statement at 17!!!! Well, I did, and I found it today shuffling through some old stuff (I laminated it so I could keep in in my wallet), and here it is. How did it get here all the way from Houston by way of Minneapolis and parts of Europe??

Mission Statement 1999
To make sure God is the #1 aspect in my life and everything I do is for His glory; to not judge anyone or myself and take all mistakes as learning experiences; to work as hard as I can even when I feel like a failure; to respect everyone, myself, and my beliefs; to be kind to everyone and treat them as I want ot be treated; to be strong in my ideas and beliefs; to accept who I am and worth with it instead of dwelling on the negative; to think pro-actively; to listen to others and not caretake anyone; to not participate in anything that can be detrimental to me physically or spiritually; Accept the things I cannot change, change the things I can, and have the knowledge to know the difference; to not be centered on the material aspects of life; to stop putting myself down; to embrace my life and cherish it and the others in it; to Love God with all my heart sould and mind.

Since I have learned how to write better mission statements, and I realize the list is more a list of principles, but at the time it's what I thought of as a mission statement.

I cannot imagine trying to write one for my life right now, which is why I think it's time to do it.

Life happening, while I'm making other plans, doing other things.

You know I am busy when I don't blog.

Not just busy...this whole week they were replacing water pipes in my apartment, which means they turned of the water(including all day today). Which then means...I didn't shower a couple of days, which gave me an excuse not to work out, which made me feel worse on top of not being able to sleep because the entire contents of my closet had to be emptied on my bed, leaving me a small corner to half sleep on only to be woken up again early the next morning to the workers banging metal around and cutting chunks out of my wall.

Today, I had lunch at Prana(saw Courtney Cox with little Coco) and bought a dress and that made it all the better.

That and this morning I was further awakened by a call from my ex (first) boyfriend, whom I haven't spoken to in, oh perhaps two years. It was great to hear from him, but of course, strolling down memory lane made me start thinking about where I am , where I was, what I have become, why me, all that stuff...and put me in a mood. Now I am questioning if I should let myself be decidedly single for a while, like oh let says, at least two years....

Only that creepily accurate astrologist told me I was due for a relationship beginning Christmas eve. I'll be in the English countryside, perhaps I'll meet a nice man on the train. Or perhaps I'll fall in love with myself all over again and realize I need to be treating myself better. Or maybe, just maybe, I'll finally meet Ralph Fiennes on a not-so-Virgin airlines flight over there(just kidding mom and tias, Ill be busy with the large selection of movies and flashy lighting.).

Point is-there isn't any, but I wanted to say point is-you can't meet awesome people like Jimmy who owns Loteria at the Grove unless you get out and take a pointless walk on a crispy autumn day.

"Tonight, Tonight, It all began tonight..."

My blog profile says I am in Accounting. I don't know why.

Today is the 50th Anniversary of the opening night of West Side Story on Broadway!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you know me, you know I know every song, the lines, and some of the original Jerome Robbins Choreography.

Today I was listening to KPCC, and they had a show about the musical. While a composer dicussed the structure of Leonard Bernstein's music in the show I nearly cried. I am such a nerd.

Why do I love the musical so much? Maybe I was Rita Moreno in another life. Is it possible to have been someone even though they're still alive?

If not, then I was definitely Natalie Wood. Would explain my terrible fear of falling into water......

Show Me the Money

This past weekend I went out with Elena to one of the sexiest jazz shows I have ever seen in my life. There, when everyone was up front dancing, I was sitting in the booth looking around at everyone. In the darkness, not too far away I see a man staring at me. I can see in the shadows, that he is staring and smiling. I wave and smile back, sort of awkwardly. He comes over and say "What's your name?" I say"Claudia, what's yours?" He responds...."Cuba." I said, "Does that mean you dance like the Cubans?"

And that is how Claudia spent the evening dancing with Cuba Gooding Junior.

L. A.

Need some more yin in my yang

My father always emphasized balance to me growing up (someday I will write a book on everything he's taught me). So to come accross Macrobiotics as a lifestyle was a huge eye opener to me, allowing me to start sensing, noticing, perceiving the imbalances in my life.

Granted, Macrobiotics is a movement mainly associated with a diet lifetstyle, but it relies on Eastern principles, like the balance of Yin and Yang. I'll leave the specifics of macrobiotics for you to research...what I want to point out is how much it is making me aware of the Yin Yang forces coming to play socially.

Before I go on, I must say that when I began eating macrobiotically, I began feeling elated, fresh, energetic, more positive, aware, light, natural, at peace....dare I say....high (FYI I have never been "high" so I really don't know what that feels like...). So I am not putting all this stock into the principles without trial. I figure that if I applied it on a small scale and it made all the difference, then perhaps I should become aware of it more metaphysically (and actually my little macrobiotics book encourages that.) I recognize this logic does not always work, ie. what works quantum mechanically does not work the same on the universal level, but hey I'll give it a shot.

So, women are naturally Yin and men are naturally Yang. Yin is associated with expansion, softness, lightness, space, defensiveness and Yang is more contraction,hardness, heaviness, time, and agressiveness. Yeah, yeah, not all women are light, soft and defensive, but in general those are the attributes of male female. Then on top of that, one may be a more Yang female than others, and same reversal goes for men. The point it that in the world we find things that attract each other, opposite forces, and the universe is contstantly balancing itself out. (Which is why the environment is screaming HELP as we keep screwing with the balances.)

So, I do think I am a more Yang female than most. Realizing this made me finally understand why I kept attracting so many Yin males. And I think now I need to become more in touch with my Yin energy, not because I think Yangness is bad, or I am trying to deny myself of who I am, but I do feel a little of balance, and the principles behind macrobiotics also say extreme attracts extreme. So now I am understanding my pattern of attracting extremely Yin men.

I just want to be balances, and want someone balanced, and am hoping that by becoming more in touch with my softer, lighter, expansive qualities I can come to balance myself out for my own benefit.

I know there's such a thing as beauty expert, car expert, expert on macro economics. Is there such thing as a Life Expert, who in the same way as the other experts,doesn't necessarily know all the answers but is pretty darn good at perceiving, judging and taking action? If so....i want to be one.

Falling in Love.

Love and Fear. We all make decisions out of either Love or Fear. I have been trying to focus on the motivation behind my decisions of late, assessing whether I am acting out of Fear, because my first instinct is to declare that I am not....which is what made me suspicious.

This weekend I thought of my decision to not decide to be any one thing. I asked myself if it was because I was afraid of stability, being boring, being normal, being pidgeonholed.....I mentioned this question in an earlier blog. The answer was and is no. But then a new question came to mind....Do I not choose one career to follow because if I never choose then I can't fail at any? In other words, am I participating in self-sabotage....am I acting completely out of fear. I didn't even want to admit that this question came to mind for fear it might be true.

(At my party of Friday a girl said after looking around my place,"I know you're an artist but I can't tell what kind.")


Here was my retort to myself....If my daily goal, the goal that I have moment to moment in my life (which I value more) is to find joy and peace, then I can never fail, no matter what I do. And that is out of love.

So then this decision to not decide, well, it's not a big deal as long as I am making the moment to moment decisions that bring about Love, joy.

Here's the problem...fear is easier to fall into than love,unfortunately. Everything in this world is made to die, to deteriorate. We have to work at living, at loving, and going. So, it is easy to fall into the fear of failing, of not choosing, and forgetting the process of loving. Leading to a standstill or a retrogression. Which is a place I think I go to sometimes, those days that I am overwhelmed with the question "what am I doing with my life?"

Is it possible to "not choose" out of love? Isn't it true that sometimes we "choose" out of fear. Afterall, I have always said, being an artist is one of the few careers one must choose to be on a day to day basis, because it is not an easy road, or an easy career to fall into. On the other hand, years pass before a surgeon realizes she accidentally became her profession, because the steps she took were the ones she was supposed to take, or the safe way, or what others wanted for her.

I am choosing a tough life. But what a blessing! How much more joyous are joys when we have something to measure them up against.

The newest joy of my life...my new niece Olivia.


Olivia: Why, what would you?

Cesario: Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
And call upon my soul within the house,
Write loyal cantons of contemned love
And sing them loud even in the dead of night.
Halloo your name to the reverberate hills
And make the babbling gossips of the air
Cry out Olivia!

-Twelfth Night, Shakespeare

Minnesota Must have Followed Me Here

I don't know if I want to say this, because I don't want those of you who dont know me to get a false impression of me, though perhaps it's not false, and since you've been reading you've probably already formed some impression, so you can decide whether the following is true or not.

I have been told, that I seem distant and cold....at least upon first impression.

This is rather interesting because my dad gives off the same impression...he's a gemini(he's really not like that) and I actually have gemini moon.

That's besides the point, especially if you don't believe in the affect of gravitional force between bodies...

So I've been pondering this one, since every time I bring it up to a friend or my new favorite boy Brian, they agree. Brian said when he first met me i was cold and distant and that's why he wasn't attracted to me, until I opened up. I told him, that's ok cause when i heard you were from LA I figured you were like the rest so I wasn't attracted (did this account for the coldness?).

Well, then i mentioned it to a group of Minnesoties....and they didn't immediately react to negate the fact, they listened ( I think may have thought of the proper answer) and said "You? heh, cold...?"

Last night I told Dan about this, and he said", yeah I can see that, but not in a bad way, the way you're taking it." He said, if you had a choice between a relationship and doing something to get ahead in work ,you'd choose the latter. You're just ambitious.

I thought, aha that's it. It's just that I am young, and know what i want. Is that so wrong?

Then today I thought about it and that can't be true. There have been many times when I knew I shouldve been in class, or working on something, but taking the time to be with a friend was more important so I shifted things, took more work on to be able to do so. Or how I am terribly busy these days, and it's a crucial point in my career....yet I still find time to hang with my favorite boy (though it seems he has less time than me).

I understand this is a European mentality. If you're on youre way to work and you run into someone on the street, you stop and greet them with no concern of hurrying to work or the "let'e get together soon! Call me!" Lines delivered in the US.

That's it. I must not be cold......i am just European!

Snow White and the little dog.

Yesterday, I almost asked Dara for a ride back to my place from Brunch. Something told me...nah...walk back. So I did. And on my way home I found a petit chien (little dog) who I named "Franklin" because that's the street where I found him. I did a double take as I saw a dog sitting in the center of the sidewalk, ahead of me, staring up as if it was waiting. I looked around. Who did it belong to? I asked around. Have you lost a dog? Have you seen this dog before? But it was no ones. So I let it follow me all the way home. And there...every time I stepped away it would whimper for me, and hug my leg when I wasnt giving him attention. I gave him water and had the neighbors give him meat (cause I'm vegan again), and got itchy, from it's fleas ( I didnt' let him inside). And then Gavin and Mark helped me take him to the shelter, where they put him in a cage :-(. I liked him, even though I have an extreme dislike of Chihuahuas. I'm glad I chose to walk home. Otherwise who would've found Franklin? Plus, I needed the Sun. I've got no color these days.

See What I mean....

For some reason, this week I've been referring to all my desires and passions as problems, as if they're a sickness taking over myself not allowing the true things I should be doing to come into fruition. Are all my "hobbies" distractions? Or is it just that I really do have a passion for the things I choose to spend my time on, and they're not hobbies at all, but the things that I take joy in.

Today, I looked up Argentine Tangoes on You Tube, since I am taking Argentine Tango class and I wanted to see what the real thing looks like. Watching the beautiful, sultry, simple, and elegant choreography of Gustavo and Jessica Hornos I thought to myself," I want to take lessons to the level of competing! I want to dance!"

The intricate tangles of thought patterns in my head led me to think of the women who say the same thing, the ones way into their careers and middle age who realize they aren't spending their lives doing something fulfilling, so they quit their job at the bank after a year of dance training and start competing. And I thought of myself, and how I don't feel unfulfilled and need a new hobby, but I strongly desire learning how to move my body with such grace, sensuality, and precision- to feel the joy of movement, and to share that with others who cannot do the same. And I though....well I don't want to waste time...I should do it now. Why not? I am taking lessons...why can't I have my job and dance too?

Perhaps because it will take more time away from writing, or reading....

In French, sometimes, to say "I need," you must say "J'ai envie de," Which literally might translate to- I have the desire to, I envy....That's the word I want to use for my need/desire to dance.

The other day I was asked..."What do you want to be? Do you want to become a playwright? And what are you doing to get there?" This person knew about my writing, btw. I answered "I already am a playwright. I don't need to wait till I grow up to become one."

Well...I already am a dancer...maybe not a prima ballerina at the Houston Ballet. maybe not a paid Flamenco Dancer at El Cid, or a video ho in a video (wait, I have been a dancing video ho in a video). But I dance. I have been doing it since I was 4. But I can't imagine that dancing in my ultimate calling and goal.

P/S Last night I was asked what I did...I said I was an actor. That made me feel uneasy. Brian jumped in and said...she's on the radio too. Thank goodness for the save.

Revamped

What is it that I do? What is my ultimate goal? I mean, do people actually like to answer these questions....or feel satisfied with the answers? I didn't until I started saying "I live life." or "I do a lot of things" or "My ultimate goal is to live the life I want." And I get the usual response of "Well you have to choose or want something..." And ofcourse.....I do...a lot of things....and that's how I live my life.

Some call it restless, others may call it scattered or unfocused, others say that I am still young and haven't figured out what I want; but those who actually know me know that those things don't seem to accurately describe me or the way I live. I know, I know, I am not the only one living like this. There are lots of people who choose the a-typical path of life. The one where you don't choose one career to follow forever, or where your career defines "what you do," or where an ultimate life goal is a thing far of in the future that you must strive for as opposed to the thing your strive for everyday. I know I am not the only one....but it's not common. Even among the people who think they live this way! Otherwise I wouldn't be asked all the time, what I do. Or questioned on how I can live my life the way I do.

Some say that perhaps my interest in such a wide range of subjects has to do with fear: of failing, of falling into stability, of choosing. Well, considering I don't ever fail (as I see my shortcomings as doors or steps to my next journey), and that I wouldn't mind getting a steady paycheck or finding the love of my life now, and that I do choose one path often and then feel as if though I am negating other parts of myself in the process...those things they say...well...pft. And as my taurean stubborness describes, I will be stubborn enough to knock down any other explanation of why I am the way I am, because I have spent the longest time with myself and would know.

It's different, and difficult, and unstable, and it's a way of life I want to uphold: who knows if it will work. That's why I am revamping this blog....to document my journal of this wierd, er uh, atypical life I lead, to figure out if it works or not, or what in the world my ultimate life goal is if it is really there to uncover. Not to put down any other person's way of life or decisions....but to figure out if the A-typical life is possible in such a traditional world.

I will keep a count of when I am asked one of those two questions I despise:

Today
Ultimate Goal:Asked once by noon.

I am being forced to not work out.

It's no wonder Joseph Campbell taught here for 47 years: Sarah Lawrence College is a beautiful campus, lush with trees and grass and old buildings. I am surrounded by writers-playwrights, novelists, poets- and people who aspire to be. I am surrounded by the environment that inspired Joseph Campbell to write and believe "Follow Your Bliss."

I am remembering these days how it feels to want to achieve something great, by means of doing what I love to do and not by how much I produce. As you know from recent blogs, this is something that has been on my mind lately. Being far away, here, in the trees, writing, away from Production and Superficial Wealth, I am feeling comfortable again desiring the life of an artist.

Aside from the fact that I believe I found mites in my bed last night and slept wit a towel wrapped around my head sitting up, things are good. Life is good. Not much more than that lately.

Disclaimer.

Now that more and more people will be reading my blog, due to my mass email and the link on my website, I want to give a disclaimer, though I hate doingthis for my writing, but for my protection....

My blog is not my diary.

I don't write a lost of whats really going on inside my head, or the real relationships in my life, or what I really write in my little brown suede notebook. I write what I know can be public. That said...

Not All of It is True

I exaggerate a whole lot in my blog. And fictionalize a bit too if I need to make a point or am telling a story. Sometimes it's all true, like when I wrote about Chase who died. Or when I write about feeling frustrated or lost. Even then.....

It's a Writing Tool

So the way I tell a story or write something is for a reason, whether sarcastic, or honest, or simple, or casual, or more formal...I use this as a writing tool. I even edit some of my entries to apply to some minor writing jobs.

I Fully Accept It's all About Me

I complain, I judge, I tease, I insult, I discuss, I proclaim without evidence. And I think that is ok in my blog because it is MY BLOG and you are reading MY BLOG. And I accept that any nuerosis or unreasonable statments are about me and my issues. I know that when I write them. I am not writing an opinions column in the NYtimes or reports.


I hope you can still enjoy my blog. It's start to take a different shape than what it used to be. I write less and less about what I am doing and write more about my observations. I won't feel offended if you stop reading, or if you don't like what i say or disagree. I am puttin git out on the web. I know that will happen.

Crazy Robertson

If you know me, you know I absolutely love foreigners. I do. I just made a new friend from England. She's a wonderful girl who has a boyfriend from Malaysia, who's father is THE Malaysian pop star. I love meeting new women. I tend to have enough "friends-who-are-boys" so when I find an interesting, intelligent, woman in LA I make sure to keep her around.

We'll call her Helena, after Shakespeare's play. Helena and I agreed over tea that we dislike this American mentality of becoming your career, of being validated by what you "do" or how you make your money. It's especially evident how this mentality fuels the workaholic habits of this country here in Los Angeles, where the first question someone asks when they meet someone new is "what do you do?"

I usually answer: I am an artist. I am a renaissance woman. I am an actor. I am a citizen of the world.

This never fares well and I get asked "But what do you do for money?"

As if it's any of their business. I am who I am, and how I get by, well who cares. I manage. The point is I live my life as an artist, a lover of nature, a person. Right?

Or is it more important what I produce and how much it's worth by the amount I am paid.

Both Helena's father and my father taught us to live life doing what we love, knowing that is success, and that is how I live, but it this country I constantly come face to face with people telling me otherwise. It reminded me of living in Spain, where the butcher was as important as the banker because they contributed to the community. Reminded me how the quality of one's life was more important than how much one makes. How if someone wanted to work in manual labor because they liked to get their hands dirty, they did.

Granted, there are so many opportunities this country offers that aren't available elsewhere, but perhaps that's why I plan to move back to Europe once I've siezed those. Perhaps I'll move to a Vineyard and write.

However much money I make or dont, I want to end up like "Crazy Robertson." Well somewhat. Everytime I drived down Robertson Blvd in Beverly Hills I see the same old guy in the same spot....dancing. This man, who looks homeless, wears spandex, no shirt, a fanny pack, sneakers, and a headband. Nearby he is play a boombox. Everyday he stands on the sidewalk dancing to his own music regardless of the playing beat and sometimes I get the urge to join him.

Tonight I mentioned the guy to Helena's boyfriend. Turns out everyone knows about this crazy guy on Robertson. Apparently he's a millionaire. What do you do when you have so much money and don't know what to do? Buy dead shark art like Saatchi? Drink and Drive and go to Jail like Paris? Nah, I want to dance like Crazy Robertson.

Magic Realism.

I was recently told a story about a playwright who was interviewed on the subject of Magic Realism, a literary genre made famous by Nobel prize winning author Gabriel Garcia Marquez. She was asked "What is Magic Realism?" My paraphrase of her response is," There is no such thing as Magic Realism. It is just how our culture is, and that term is just how the western world understands it. IN Latin American culture we are daily affected by the spiritual, the magical, our past, our future, nature."

I ask myself, where did the magic in my world go? In the file at the back of my brain that is labeled "Obselete, Due to Science Course in College."?? And if so, why not pull it out to use it in special cases? More intriguing, why lose the Magic just because I know it's not...or do I?

My grandmother is a magical woman. She certainly believes she is. She's the one who told me of the instances where she's had premonitions of things happening and they do. She's the woman who sticks the pointy part of a key into my cuticle when I tell her I have nausea and then the nausea is gone. She's the woman who told me the following story:

Long, Long ago in San Pedro, Garza Garcia, Monterrey, Nuevo Leon, Mexico...the ranch where she was raised...My little Grandmother, Petrita, and her friend would play in the desert, near the mountains. History told that chests of gold were buried all over San Pedro during past wars, and though most hadt been evinced, not all. Every once in a while another treasure would be discovered (I even heard of these stories as a girl when I visited San Pedro). One afternoon, while playing in the desert, Petrita and her friend met another young girl who they played with. That afternoon, this mysterious new girl told them exactly where in the yard a treasure was buried. Days later the girl returned, urging them to dig for the treasure. Petrita's little friend ran home to tell her father about the treasure chest and the little girl, but the parents concluded the girl was a figment of their imagination (keep in mind studies show that though people can have visions or hallucinations, the same hallucination cannot be had by two people.). Out of curiousity her father went to the supposed treasure spot and began digging. Lo and behold! A Chest!! Now, word of mouth had it that the first person to open a treasure chest would die; word of mouth science actually says that the gases released from a buried chest of pure gold were toxic when first uncovered (if someone wants to research this and get back to me.....). Sure enough, the chest had gold, the father became sick, deathly ill, as did Petrita's friend who fell sick out of fear from seeing a ghost. The father lived, the little girl died, and my grandma was sans friend. Now, there's a family in San Pedro that is very wealthy and powerful and has produced many a mayor (remember this town was named wealthiest city in Latin American not long ago.). My grandmother told me that that same rich family is the one who became wealthy after the discovery of the gold. Now how about that! And she told me this story as matter-of-factly as she told me how to make chiles rellenos.

Now I attribute all this magic business to the mix of natives religious beliefs of the original inhabitors of Mexico with the Catholic mysticism the Spaniards brought over. But I do find that those indigenous, earth cultures from long ago had a certain connection to life and spirit that we have somehow lost. I mean, check out the Mayan calendar, so incredibly accurate, science-wise too, but how? How did they do that? Was that magic for them, what we now consider science, even though we have no understanding of how they did it?

From my readings I have discovered that although most believe science has discredited any supernatural happenings, much is still unknown about the brain, about how we use intuition, and a certain sense which people connected to more pre-enlightenment.

Point is...I am staying at my friend Ellie's till I find an apartment. I know for a fact that there was a roll of papertowels next to the sink that I used two days in a row. Yesterday I checked, and it is gone. SO I looked around. Perhaps I dropped it to the floor, perhaps I placed it in a cupboard or the fridge mistakenly, perhaps I was sleepwalking and threw it away or brought it upstairs. Nope. The papertowels are no where to be found....and I have locked all the doors and checked them more than I check my own, and I have checked for anything else out of the ordinary but nothing.....My guess....I can make things dissappear. Or maybe it skipped back into the second dimmension, so I can't see it because it's flat and since it's not in the fourth dimmension, it doesn't move through time so it does not exist. Woah.

This one's for the girls.

At first I didn't want to believe what my friend Elena was telling me about men, but I am now convinced that even though I don't want to believe it, even though I don't consider myself a "game player" in relationships, even though most men aren't aware of this particular game they play, it's just plain true.

When I first started my little affair with a certain "source of drama" she was there with a similar story to guide me. Now for those of you who know me, I am not easily guided and I do not just take anyone's advice. But I opened myself up to her words of wisdom since she has ten years experience on me, and she'd tell me "Girl, I tell you these things so you don't make the mistakes I made. I am __(ten yrs older than me) and I have learned."

It's as simple as this....and girls you'll probably say, duh, we know that:

As soon as you make yourself available to a guy, or if you go after him, he won't be after you.

I hated hearing this. I said...no I don't play those games, and I know that the guys who want me know that about me and aren't the game playing kind of guys either. And frankly I don't want a guy who won't let me go for him and be the same back.

Oh early twenties Claudia. I mean maybe things will eb different when I am older. Who knows, but I have dated guys from 22-early forties and I am realizing now that I can look back at those relationships or situations, it's been the same at a every age. And this simple truth comes in every shape form and style. There are the guys that straight up want the chase, and admit it. There are the guys who throw themselves passionately at a girl, but when she reciprocates he pulls away for some strange reason. There are the relationships that seem normal and not to abide by this truth but the real reason its that way is because the girl is has an inkling of a doubt about it all and subconsciously the guy senses this and stays. There are the times when we girls make the mistake of sending that email or the text to him because we want to and we dont want to play games or we think he;ll like it, and though he does...somehow he doesn't respond the way we expect or as soon. I have tested this one...I have found that when I don't reply or call back or email/text at all, the guy comes running after me or seeks me out like he hadnt before, and when I do put myself out there...it metaphysically pushes him away or takes him longer to long for me.

Now this doesn't mean that now I am a game player when pursuing relationships or just dating. But it has reminded me of another truth that is even more significant:

Ladies, we need to have so much respect for ourselves, our bodies, and recognize our worth so much that we have no need to be running after men. Because we are too wonderful to not be desired. We deserved to be wanted, and loved, but we need to do that for ourselves first. Because it's when we believe these things about ourselves that others will treat us as such.

Affirmation: I have much to offer. I am worthy of admiration. I am worth a man/woman wanting to be with me. I am worth putting myself first.