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today

hi people!
am taking a short sabbatical.
will return soon or when my fans beckon, haha!
much love.
z

moon day

my kids ask, “mom did you ever try drugs?” 
and i don’t know what I am supposed to say.



when I was in college, taking 21 units and not knowing what i wanted to be when i grew up, i took acid one night. reason? i don't know. the moon was full. 
we didn’t call it taking drugs. we were just young people seeking a spiritual experience. so my inspiration from that experience was, quit school and go to hawaii-i went to a place i had heard about called taylor camp. this was the story that was told to me- elizabeth taylor’s brother owned this amazing piece of land on the north shore of kauai. the government wouldn’t let him develop it, so in a kind of...you know! to the government, he gave it to a bunch of hippies who took it over. it wasn't a commune. everyone was pretty much self- sufficient. there was an amazing little store there, which had mangoes and avocados for sale and there were gardens everywhere and outdoor showers. everyone who lived there changed their name. there was hawk and feather, bobo and star and i was rainbow. 
the people who lived there designed and built these amazingly, beautiful bamboo homes on stilts. to acquire one, an owner simply passed it on when they moved on. that's how i got my tree house!

money daze

strategy 1. 

i can not tell a lie.  was it simply luck that made me figure out i could do something to guarantee i would be in the running for the grand prize? 

and, no- this is not a confession. this was strategy! 

i clearly saw that those top 100 ladies had some trick up their respective baggy sleeves, cellulite arms not withstanding! i decided to get on board. i simply voted for myself 30 times/day-

it was, as they say, a numbers game.

now i too am in the top 150.

big $$$ prize.

wish me luck.

strategy 2.

i am publishing my children's book and and will put it online to sell.

yes. it is amazing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

strategy 3.

don't have that one yet. working on it.

the day the money starts rolling in!

ha!
you think i had forgotten??? never. this is not all about him. or having a him. or even singing a hymn. (though that is always inspirational).
no. 
this is about making money and not having money make me- crazy.
do you all realize how dependent/despondent i am, have been, as regards that ol' dollar?
do you remember the financial expert who was sorry i was so "tortured" by my money story?
well- it felt good to be acknowledged- i guess.
but i am currently most interested in turning this thing around, rather than staying in any of those rather cramped, tortured spaces.
so.
instead of continuing along the lines of frugalness, doing without, lean and bare, etc.
how about i turn it around and start making loads of money!
i'll show them!
all those bad ol' mortgage people who won't refinance me because i don't make enough money to qualify for a refinance which would reduce my loan payments $500.00 per month-which would make me qualify for a refinance! but, i don't qualify- now. without the refinance. and i cannot for the life of me get them to calculate it as if i were paying the $500.00 less per month which would qualify me... i mean, are you getting this?
so i gotta change my strategy.
making money. not spending less money. 
now i might be getting somewhere.

sadder day

well. i have not been writing.
i considered stopping.
and of course, there was.
saturday.
i was sad. i was remembering. things. memories. 
i wonder - will i ever be in love again?
i have not seen or spoken to him in over three months. 90 days. they say that is the magic number of relapse. when the neuro transmitters start sending messages, hinting- perhaps i did not make a good choice. perhaps i made a mistake. perhaps i was quite wrong.
then i remember. i need to make myself remember.
the facts. 
i had a dream about him. i saw him in the dream. he looked good! 
but there were two of him. the one i loved came and sat with me. he reached out to me with an embrace. his twin brother got in the front seat and was running the show, giving directions, paying  no attention to me. 
that is the way it was.
the one that loved me, that was kind and thoughtful 
and the evil twin brother that was thoughtless and oblivious to everyone but himself. 

happy day

he's too happy. that guy i had a crush on. how can anyone be that happy??? i don't get it. is it for real? does this really happen? are people genuinely that happy 24/7? personally, i have never met anyone that is. well. now i guess have. if i count him. i haven't actually met him. i saw him. at that movie screening. and if he really is, is what i am questioning, really that happy i mean? the reason he seems insufferably happy is that every two minutes he says on his website that he is.

sigh.

such a thing i have never known.

when i was just 21, i met an incredibly handsome man who told me he loved me. we moved in together in a tiny garden apartment in san francisco. he was probably one of the most beautiful men in the world. his smile would light up the sky. i worked at a very popular café in fisherman’s wharf. every night I would take a cab home after work. at the end of a shift we all had a drink. when I went to get mine i heard this voice saying: “don’t drink that.” i hesitated. i could hear it clearly, but i also was perturbed. i wanted to drink it. as i reached over to pick it up again, this voice clearly said, “don’t drink that.” i went to finish the last few things i needed to do, and kind of angrily came back and had a sip or two, but then i threw it out. it was not understandable what i had heard, but it was jarring enough to make me stop. when I got home it was after 3:00 in the morning. my handsome guy had left a note on the bed saying he had to go to pick up some things in tahoe with his friend and left the keys to his truck for me in case I needed it. he said he would be back the next day. i remember thinking to myself- i had never stayed home alone. i was a little nervous, but took a deep breath and took off my uniform to wash in the sink. that's when I heard the sound. i didn’t know what it was. without thinking, i opened the door to look outside. the night was very dark, but over the fence i saw a man with the most terrifying expression on his face and he was climbing the wall! the sounds he was making were like out of the exorcist. i went into a panic and started to run, but it was so dark and in my panic i lost my sense of direction. we lived down a small alley and i ran straight into a wall- i heard him behind me. i thought, this is it, i am going to be raped and i am going to be murdered. somehow, i made it around the corner and into the street. every door on that block had a steel iron gate on it. there was nowhere to go for help. just at that exact moment, a taxi turned down the street. i flagged him down and jumped in the car. i was completely naked. i asked him to give me his jacket and call the police.

it turned out that armed police had been staked in the neighborhood. they were looking for a serial rapist. he wasn’t caught. the next day, there was a note on our truck saying, “i'm still watching.”

if I had been drinking, there is no doubt in my mind i would not have been able to react as quickly as i had, or may even have just passed out in bed and been victimized. who was that voice? how had I heard it? more important, why did I pay attention that time?