On dry land with miss Ariel

Cut to a view of Santa Monica Pier.

The lights and the ocean are only partially able to consume me. For once, it’s not about them. I mean, it is but not entirely.

Flashback a few hours prior. Solid rough plans in the works. The whole night belongs to her. I made a silent promise.

She calls me her kitten.

She told me how she had been at the beach the other day. She’s always at the beach. She hadn’t been yet, but she’d missed the ocean. That’s where she wants to be. And I resist not.

She talked of little things. Women appreciate subtleties so often neglected in the mix. A girl had held her hand. It made her glowy. Big things didn’t phase her. She’s taken care of in that way. But the heart is a different matter.

I take note of little details. My brain consumed all of her words. Analytically processed with a touch of emotion.

I cleaned a good portion of the day. I hadn’t spent much time with my roommate. This had been such a busy but epic week.

I wanted to make sure he didn’t feel neglected. I wanted to take some time for him. Even if it was just the bit of time at lunch before disappearing as I usually do.

He met a girl. He was taking things slow. He’s been gone quite a bit as well.

“Hey I miss you. I wanted to tell you, that Just in case you weren’t told this week.. you’re awesome. I’m glad things are starting to work out for you.”

My roommate is essentially a domestic partner for me, minus any of the “benefits.” But that’s for another blog.

We made the best of our interlude. Sushi couldn’t have been any better than how it was that day. We went to Gamestop and picked up a few new games. I dry humped a Silent Hill poster. I clicked pictures of a few dvd’s to add to my *wishlist. More to come on that one later.

But I told her I would see her that night, and I was. I do my absolute best to be that way to people.

She calls me kitten.

I made a point to wear my ears yesterday. My parasol. Little things that I knew would make her smile. Little things that make me smile.

I packed a “magic bag” as my son would say. A purse full of little things for smile manufacturing. A towel for the beach. A set of glasses. Gum. Shades.

“I wear sunglasses at night because I’m a rockstar like that. When I put them on, I’m undercover. You can’t see me. Watch..”

I got lost heading to the pier. Just looking for parking. The pier was full. I had to circle looking for one with a halfway decent price that wasn’t a mile away.

“I’m sorry I’m running late.”


“Damnit I missed a turn. I’m going to have to go around again.”


“It’s a good thing I got you those flowers then. Or else you’d likely kill me…”

“.. Wait what?”

Yep. I got her flowers. Purple little gladiolas I think. I’m not sure exactly. I just saw them and had to.

The night was refreshing. Talking. Smiling. All those things that I appreciate someone doing, I did for her.

She is a bit broken, but who isn’t. Someone really hurt her and you can tell that. I feel bad saying that here. I’m in no business talking. I didn’t care. I mean, I did but her problems and past aren’t all of her. I’m sure it’s not even that bad. People are their own worst critics.

She has a beautiful heart. I wanted to make sure that she remembered that.

I told her about Candice. A lover of mine from long ago. Candice had… she’s a big part of the reason I’m so nervous with women.

We talked some more.

There’s a piece of the pier where you can see the ferris wheel. The lights on the water. It’s touristy, but in a beautiful way.

We both snapped our cameras away. A frenzy of clicks and shutters. I know that I’ll be returning to the sea again. Another reason is added to the list.

Last night was one of those nights you see in a movie. It was a little disastrous. It was whimsical and sappy. It was..

Thank you dear mermaid girl. Anytime you need to return to the sea…

When random is routine

Once upon a time…

I often get lost on purpose. There seems to be a comfort in the unknown. Of the excitement and fear of going missing in an urban jungle.

I told my friends I’d be there in 20 minutes, but once I saw the glow, I was drawn to it. Maybe it’s ADD. Maybe I’m just a constant tourist.

When I lived in IL there was a road that went past an oil field. Nothing but wasteland and metal and a straight stretch of road. Familiar.

I remember looking up at my daddy in pigtails and loose teeth…

“Is this a city? Is this where you work?”

My dad always worked downtown. Your stereotypical corporate banker. Horrible taste in any decor. Suitcase. Double breasted.. not pinstripe. Style and him were never paired, and he didn’t care. Hell all of his socks were the same color so he doesn’t have to make an effort making sock pairs.

Awesome. I always hated making sock pairs. It was the dreaded family chore we’d put off for months. 3 kids. That’s a shitload of socks. And that’s why the only ones I own have obnoxious designs and patterns on em. Well, not all of them. I went to a catholic school… I love argyle socks. I guess that makes me a bit weird. or cliche. or both.

But back to the tale.
Years later. I learn to drive. It’s actually a main road… or pseudo main road. It was somewhere I had to drive all the time. You could speed down that road. I love to speed. Bad bad bad.

A little secret. This was my piece of solace. This was my piece of… unconventional detox. Zen in a city of lights.

Sunday night on the way to my friends place for amazing homemade pizza, olympics ceremony endings (truth be told I really didn’t care but my friends found it gorgeous), booze, a favorite movie of the crew-beerfest, and Civ4.

I hate Civ 4. I love the Diablo series. But who the hell doesn’t. Not my style. But whatever. Give me an RPG or an MMO any day. Lan party? FPS it up. Frag frag frag.

I got consumed by lights. I don’t know this city. I’m constantly lost.

Which one of you cares to be my personal GPS or come along for the ride?  Srsly I would adore it if someone bought me a GPS- my roommate would love you too.  I need to start a fund.
I’ve been here 5 weeks. So much to blog about but not enough time.
I want to work with casting. (There’s a story coming about that too)

I want to be a suit. Omg I’m my dad… but with a much much cooler job. Or.. well um.

Broke artist. Rich in dreams though.

They say that people are in exactly the place that they should be.  Months ago when San Diego fell apart.. Wow.  I am just a vessel- taking the wheel to wherever it guides me.

Because I don’t have GPS 😉