Dentists’ Blow

I recently started seeing a new dentist. He’s from Iraq and while middle eastern men have never been the first on my list of men to date, this man had stuck a chord in me.

He was always wearing a three piece suit under his white coat. he had beautiful skin and this fine head of hair. I can still remember how perfectly plump and red his lips were, as if they were outlined by a darker shade of red just to emphasize the perfect v in his lip lines.

He was sweet and smiled as he talked with me.

He always asked me how I was doing.. I was actually catching feelings for him..

We had only just begun our professional relationship so I didn’t have any inhibitions – one that a normal person would have because I’m not normal, but beyond that (what I mean is that) we hadn’t been carrying on years with a repressed attraction behind multiple visits that would make mentioning the attraction, “shocking or uncomfortable.”

I only had two visits and I was ready to ask him out. Especially, because my first visit wasn’t even really with him, it was the tech that cleaned my teeth. I got all the info from her too.. That’s how I know where he’s from and that he was single and even his age.

I just had to ask him out. But, what could he want to do with me, I doubted myself. Riddled with insecurity, I told myself that I was just a patient to him and my efforts despite their strength would amount to nothing. Unless, I thought out of the box. Unless I was shocking – maybe that is exactly what this situation called for.

I can’t just ask him to dinner?  He’s already put his hands in my mouth and I loved it. I figured it out. On my next appointment while I’m waiting for him to return to my room, I’ll just take my clothes off , knowing that it will be just the two of us. But one of my molars, that had already had a crown on it, needed to be extracted. This was great news! We were going to have to have a discussion, just he and I. He began.

“We’re going to have to remove it. It’s not salvageable, I’m afraid. Sorry.”

I would shrug as if I was upset. Put my hand on his and say,

“I understand. if you’re going to take something out though — you may want to put something else in….. What’s fair is fair.”


Don’t get sore.

You know that friend that you just can’t keep up with, like you want to hear about their sex life because it’s great.

But also you’re just not sure you should share a drink or cigarette with them, like ever.

You unwittingly check their mouth for signs of a sore, the lingering of a sore, or redness of any kind. And then you try to change the way you drink or pull from the joint – as if you can somehow tighten your lips enough to keep the bad bacteria out. 


#scorpios #rollingeyesatmyself

I’m back.

{INTRO: A lot of you don’t know that I spent a lot of time sweating from my palms and feet performing stand up – a la open mics and well, I do love it..BUT I’m not really cut out for the lifestyle that comes with trying to get good at performing comedy. I like to be asleep by ten.. and sets wouldn’t start until that time, and furthermore when I got home I stayed awake thinking of ways to modify existing jokes or better yet turning the light on to write new jokes in scribbles that are only half-legible the next day. I have a good amount of material and before throwing these folded up papers and mini moleskins…I gotta put them out there }

and I’m riper than a strawberry? What does that mean? It means that there’s a small window of opportunity that you may enjoy me. It’s around springtime and I am one of the most tantalizing fruits there are: My shape. My color. My aroma. My taste. It’s all there, and for you to take a bite out, and you do. And, when you do there’s a chance that I, may leave my seed with you, a piece of me with enough power to create more of me, perhaps in a place you can’t see and don’t notice for sometime, but it’s a chance you are willing to take – most of the time, anyway.

Would you ever ask a strawberry where she comes from? The answer is the ground. Yea many grounds in many places, but the land is always the answer. I don’t know about hydroponic strawberries and that’s not the point here. So why then….is the number one question I get asked, beyond all others?

“Where are you from?” That’s it. That’s my number one inquiry.

In my case, they have already counted on and bet their imaginary dollars on what my answer will be.

They are usually wrong.

Like 99.6% wrong. Indians want me to be form India, Pakistani’s from Pakistan, Bangladeshi from Bang… You get it.

And so, I have decided to cut the whole charade by responding, “Not your country.”

“Oh because…” they will inevitably say back.

“No. Not your country.” I will reiterate

“But you look like….”

That is how the exchange always ends. “You look like…”

I look like what exactly? Someone you could feel good about harassing… Well, I’m not.

The other day someone walked by me and turned around and proceeded to yell, “INDIAN WOMAN!” as they turned their back and walked away.

Point is, does this happen to anyone else?

The more common humans of New York (City)

Side note: Am I the only one that cares to correct the author of this editorial photo journalism? His content is solely persons from NYC not New York state, never shall the two be confused, well maybe if you’re in Kindergarten.

Use a nasal Long Island inflection but take your S’s very seriously. Nearly whistle when they arrive at the tongue and try to forget that anyone exists around you.

Me: Is someone sitting here with you?
Her: They will, but aren’t here yet, soon. So soon. (Don’t forget those S’s.. they must suggest a presentation of importance to her)

“I was like, and she was like, and we were going to — but then, it was like, sooo not worth it. Anyway, What else?”

That was the sound of several conversations and also this one between women discussing business:

“I know a client just recently reminded me of that. And I am trying hard to not judge, but people are going to get it, right.”

No. They’re not getting it, they just don’t know where to begin with you.
Forgive the fifteen year olds unless they turn into the above-mentioned women:
“I wouldn’t date him, but he’s cute. I mean he has these eyes. Have you seen his eyes?”

Silent time:
Stare into the faces of advertising so as not to flip out because there are people pushing into you from all sides. You just want to pick up the handle of your handbag because it’s slipping off your shoulder, and God is that annoying, but you can’t. Not now. And, now there’s a strange smell, so things just got worse. You got your wish. And then comes spontaneous meditation:

In the logo on the arm of a strange woman’s jacket. Not all of it is clearly legible. I struggle, but not because of eye sight, just the distance between me and what goes on here. Ro-Cawer. Rocawer, but that’s so weird. What is a cawer? or what does it mean to rocaw? Ohhh Roca Wear. I get it now. But why is she the only one not wearing a Canada goose something? It seems that was everyone else’s Christmas present. #NYCmatchingcoats #CanadagooseNYC #SoWarmandMatching

Lastly, the one that’s slipping through: A man has two clear garbage bags over his shoulder filled with recyclable plastics, but I catch him without a struggle in his stride or difficulty in carrying his load. Instead, he uses a bottle of water, perhaps one of his great finds today, to clean salt’s residue from his leather sneakers. He’ll collect bottles for work, and cash them in for pay as long as his sneakers are clean. They’ve got to be clean.


Say it now or never hold peace.

I change many things about my life but how I communicate with people isn’t one of them.
A home phone, beeper 143-133 <3, cell phone, smartphone, iPhone 🐽, aim, cool a creaky door opens when I sign on and another slams when someone leaves and who could forget the awesome flag collection, but then that went and we had myspace🌈okay cool, years later I see Facebook on the street with the way cooler than me kids, and I hop on reluctantly.
Only this past year did I create an Instagram and surely there's a twitter account I can't remember the password to, but the truth remains, no format is going to interrupt me from telling you what I think you should know. #flourishintruth

America’s best defense: Make everyone like them I’ve been communicating since I started my travels in Europe starts like a defense, but you will soon read, friends, that it is not.

I’ll start with the simple truth that most people Europeans feel compelled to tell me how different I am from most of the Americans they have met. The Portuguese were not so articulate basically because they don’t speak English, but the translations were made and noted. The Spanish on the other hand were able to clearly outline the differences. I wasn’t as argumentative or self-centered as Americans they have met. I laugh loudly, but all was forgiven. The French however, the most inquisitive and perplexed have a lot of frustration, and rightfully so, with how arrogant and high and mighty Americans are when they are traveling abroad. This is funny for me as most Americans like to say these very same details about the French. I am not here to defend these actions for many reasons, but I do tell them that before they cast their stones there is something they should understand.

Americans may act like they are living in, hell even truly believe it is the greatest country in the world, but many of them don’t actually know any better. They don’t know the comparison, or even what the “world” means. They do not choose this patriotism, well most of them anyway. It is a product of brainwashing, years and years of indoctrination, or the simple environment one stays in. cough :: red state:: cough

So in my efforts to lift this judgment and alienation that has been placed blindly on people from the United States, I have begun a whole new conversation. You see an American high school student can graduate having only studied American History! There is the mandatory studies for ancient civilizations, like Romans, Egyptians, Middle Ages in certain areas of the nation, but its not regulated and so on… but most of what is studied is filler between and leading up to the great battles of this nation. The youngest nation in the world has bogarted an entire there really a need to draw it out over a four year high school career?

The French are baffled by two things:

1) Americans think the French people are dirty, that they don’t bathe and smell awful. They talk about this a lot and they believe it has to do with a rumor that was spread around the middle ages and recapitulated in American textbooks.

2) How crude our language is? They don’t understand that when someone says I am french, it is interpreted as I am of French origin. And, most of you would agree that these are not the same thing, but if you were to try and reenact a conversation with yourself and someone else in your head. I am not sure that you would be blind to their argument. Origins are not the same as where I myself have come from or where I claim allegiance. For this, they are true.

But friends, if you are still with me..  The United States draws people from all over the world, made by immigrants from European nations and here they experienced the biggest opportunities of success they have ever known, that were ever to be known, but in order to keep the loyalty and dedication within its own borders, they quickly learned to manipulate the people and take a systematic approach through military/government/religion and education.

Europeans will say, “Yes, you are a young nation. We can completely empathize with this, but to what end?”

Should they keep lowering their standards just to keep the US happy? Keep the companies that have both the European nation and the Americas in their pocket well fed?

With the Transatlantic Treaty European countries will be saturated with US meats and agriculture. It is an agreement that tries to bridge a gap, and while the products to come to US will be a nice influx of new cultural flair, this is an abomination to European gastronomy. Every region so proud of their own flavors, meats cheeses, and delicacies, all of their contributions are about to be homogenized and corrupted with shit-quality hormone and antibiotic fed animal products, and petroleum fueled and pesticide ridden crops.

The US of A is interrupting the health and prosperity of the world, let alone the rest of what I am not speaking about, but this is a different kind of war. Or is it?

Language : Use it or will use you

(The product of a facebook thread. Best social experiment yet.)

To think that you can write something in a certain way ensuring the way it is perceived, is to participate in insanity. There is no style, let alone the obvious limitations of the written word, that can increase or decrease the like-ability of myself or discussion. I can load sentences with condescension or any other interpreted tone and influence the effect it has on you at that moment but even rudeness has it’s futility, should you be wise.

Because these words themselves have nothing to do with me. The ways on which you receive my communication (if about an subjective matter not you personally of course. Slander is not included in this rant) has more to do with you, your efforts to be heard, the need to feel agreed with or challenged. This is the basis from which you source reaction, nothing more.

Whether or not I agree with you or that you may like me enough to agree with me should be of no concern to either of us because there’s nothing that we as humans can ever do to guarantee the feelings of another person. Feelings, like opinions, yours and mine, have no basis in who I am, and are forever changing.

Now, we are all susceptible of throwing a lil excitement into our stories, but exaggeration is a slippery slope when you talk about real issues, so please be aware of this when speaking from a comfortable town, house, school system, and bank account. Respect language, it’s all we have. Try not to put more water under the bridge and start calling things what they are. Use your words or they will use you.

Ie. Your kids will become what you’ve called them since inception “out of control” your job the “nightmare” you wake up to every morning, and husband a “disaster” that you don’t have sex with because you feel “fat” or he’s an “asshole” and besides your house is a “wreck” there’s so much to do, life is “insane” and you “can’t deal” with it, but this dress, that bag, and this glass of wine is “amazing!” (This doesn’t just go for women- only right now)

We all live differently of course and you can keep the order of your priorities as you will, maybe the sex is better when he’s an asshole and you come home from your nightmare of a job! But, for the love of humanity, it’s a big world out there, try not to lose perspective.

It is this very trap, the narrowing of vision that has us and so many countries discussing trivial issues in a time when we need critical solutions.

Alan Watts divided by Tiffany

Beauty is a strange appeal. There are so many layers. Power and freedom can never be safe. They are dangerous in the same ways fire and electricity are. Every experience of any kind will leave some if not many subtleties unexpressed. No one’s mouth is big enough to utter it completely, and ironically the fool who persists in his folly, examining nothing, will eventually become wise. Bear witness to what I’m learning the Chinese call: Li and Te.

To have a sense of the organic pattern (Li) between and in us all, endowing me, for example, with (Te) a magical virtue, the miraculous moment we feel the stars in the universe are no different than our own ability to be conscious.

 Power and freedom can never be safe. The configuration of my nervous system, like the configuration of the stars, happens of itself, and this ‘it’ is undeniably me. But without ego or justification, this magical virtue (Te) brings the pleasant awareness that things only exist in the abstract world of thought, such as terms and conversation, and even when expressed will inevitably be incomplete.

 Beauty is a strange appeal. There are so many layers and we will never bloom at the same time.

 “In the landscape of spring, there is neither better nor worse; the flowering branches grow naturally, some long and some short.”

No Yoga No Peace

It is hard to imagine that there is this gift of breath and delightful scents under our nose all day. And that, after all this time the Sun has never told the Earth: “You owe me.” And that, no matter how many times the shore pushes the ocean away, turning it back onto itself, the ocean never tires, never ceases her efforts, ever.

We should just be thankful for how beautiful nature is. That we still have clear waters and green grass, even after every horrible thing we have done to her.

When you see surfers in movies, you might think of a competition and a lot of people, cars jam packed, smiling tan faces chomping on something with reflective sunglasses on. You might imagine a ton of sponsors, banners, vendors, you name it and its there, quite the hollywood spectacle. But that’s not really what it’s like at all.

It’s lonely out there and a trying process just to get there, wherever it is you want to be. The strength to continue moving those arms and paddle because you musn’t lose the progress you’ve made. Don’t let the wave tempt the tip of your board up. Keep steady and breathe. Feel what is coming, but mostly wait for the feeling to arrive. And, after several hard conversations with yourself, dialogue you may have been overhearing between yourselves as they logically rationalize and empathize with everything and nothing, the feeling has arrived. She gives you a pulse and you know to turn. Its yours and you nail it. You knew to take your time. You stayed low until you were steady. You even forgot that there were things to remember. It was effortless and the best you’ve ever rode. You finish and when you look around, it’s just you. You to thank, you to impress, and you to congratulate. It’s been you all along.


F That S

2/27 /2014


F that S

So the above statement was used right after a woman started talking about her wasted life and figure. Wasted on years stuck behind a desk and an engineering career. She was prompted to speak about this as she compared what she called reality to the way our attentive and attractive surfing instructors live out their lives. In the sunshine, on a surfboard, free from deadlines and desks, office politics, and a system where people ask for raises, where they are sometimes even scheduled to routinely beg for appreciation.


Yet, we were thankful and thanked these men for sharing a bit of their freedom with us. The same freedom we were also born with.


If anyone tells you aren’t free, laugh as loudly as you can, and then run of course. And if by some lapse of sanity, you feel burdened by a weight that reduces your sense of freedom just take a closer or deeper look at who and what you are, what you have always been, and always will be.


And if by some stroke of unluckiness you find yourself in a circle where miserable souls try to tell you how a soldier or army granted you freedom,

tell them F that S!