Breathing Room

I have to just take a moment and a break from the long running story, but still need to take to the page and keep the embers going. No rest for the wicked I guess.

I've been faced with several dilemmas this last week. Relationships, work, state of mind, progress in general. The ever elusive grounding we all crave for.

Ah…whatever.

Change of subject.

Who really wants to see this Hobbit movie? I mean I want to see Smaug like everyone else…but seriously…Legolas. REALLY?! I'm truly starting to lose faith in Jackson. Actually I started to lose it after "Lovely Bones", such a missed opportunity to return to some serious "Heavenly Creatures" subject matter and tone. In truth, I don't want to see a filmmaker make the same movie over and over, but you gotta scale back and create some freakin MOOD every once in a while! SHeesh! Lovely Bones had none of that…except the death scene with Tucci…that shit was legit.

But honestly these Hobbit movies are such retread. It's boring. It's too much of the same scale, tone, shots, characters…it doesn't seem fresh or exciting. A unique vision could've really made this series stand out, to breathe a new viewpoint, a different kind of journey. Del Toro, who was originally slated to direct these films, had the potential to bring his unique vibe to this world. But at the same time Del Toro's "American" movies (you guys know what I'm talking about) aren't really that far of a stone throw from Jackson recently. They both have achieved this level of "Hyper-Fantasy" films. Ones that have…a…cartoon quality, but not only in visuals, but in language and character as well. It hurts a bit that there is still a challenge to blend more sophisticated storytelling with a maturity that responds to multiple age groups. Maybe I'm just getting to the age of nostalgia that reminisces about the films from my growing up.

More kid type fantasy films used to have (in my opinion) a higher level of maturity and story quality. I think something gets lost in this PC craving world, a freedom of experimentation and risk with subject matter and relating that to kids. I remember films like "Flight of The Navigator", and "The Neverending Story". Films that dealt with complicated themes with real drama and emotional exuberance. People now I feel might be too fearful of their kids, or just kids in general really, being exposed to "real" emotional conflict, the good and the bad. I think there is a lack of faith in the emotional capabilities of children. This is unfortunate. It's amazing how powerful perception is. What the mind starts to perceive vs. what it's actually being shown. This "trick" is the power of movies, its what creates the drama, suspense. Playing with your perceptions, moving you back and forth from "dread" to "relief" is what builds the strength of your perception, you ability to deal with the extreme up and down challenges of being scared, anxious, loved, broken. You watch movies to experience these things…but you also have to have faith in the fact they will lead you to a good place. Film, cinema, movies…require a mutual arrangement between the story and you. You have to believe in it too, blind trust even. I feel people are losing that faith. With the extreme over exposure and overly analyzing every little nuance of media from the initial conception, there is born too much judgement, to much preconceptions of the material before it's seen in context. People, now, are so quick minded, that everything needs to happen and be experienced RIGHT NOW! We need to know how everything is going to play out…it alleviates that fear of the unknown which is so important for films, for the experience. People I feel are becoming scared of the moments where nothing happens. The anticipation building is killer. And with everything out there now coming at your face so fast from every direction, to slow down…and really see whats coming…to anticipate it and think about it rather that just having to react to it like a reflex. If you watch children's films…or kids films (I determine "children" films as ages 4-10 and "kids" as 10-15 give or take) now…they have a rather rapid delivery of movement, dialogue, and tone. Where if you look at the equivalent film from say 20 years ago (shiiiit I feel old) You'll find an incredible amount of "space". You'll find that they are paced way slower, and in that event more of that anticipation that I worry we now feel kids are incapable of dealing with.

There is a loss of breathing room in films that aren't "art films" (I hate that term btw.  all film, even at its worst is still "art" to a certain degree) the "deliberate" nature, truly calculated execution is starting to fade. When it happens now, it really stands out but there are less and less of it in anything other than a auteur film, less of it in anything other than what you would expect to find it in. I think this is something that needs to be instilled more in the new generation of filmmakers…everyone wants to be "Snyder" or "Bay", or even the Marvel films…I hope we don't lose the "Polanski" quality of storytelling…the masterfulness in creating a real film…a real experience that calculates an effect on your eyes, mind, and soul. Films that stay with you to your core.

I'm being overly cynical…there are tremendous films coming out and being noticed that would never see that light of day usually. But I just don't want to forget…the art is paramount, the design, skill, execution to manipulate and control how a whole group of people are reacting from moment to moment. Us filmmakers really owe it to the people, to give them something that goes straight to the core. Even if it doesn't do it for everyone. We should always strive for that.

Goodnight.

Sickness, Summers, Fathers, and Lovers: Part 3 - Choke Up

Choke up.

Returning back to Oakland, back to my life was a rough transition. My head space felt very separated between where I had come from and where I was now returning to. The house I was living in at the time was actually fairly new to me. I think I had only been there a month or so before all this started at the cancer center in Arizona. I really can't think of a better word to describe it than numb. Euphoric maybe. But definitely changed. It's a really hard thing to watch this person who you grew up to feel as kinda invincible. That look of utter defeat. It's a haunting thing to see. My whole perception of things got flipped upside down. Was this what people meant when they talk about your priorities changing in an instant?

No one at work really asked where I was. Most people there don't really even notice, schedules change so much. A simple answer was usually all it takes. It was just so hard to even talk about…it was so weighted, so many ins and outs. I was still sorting out a considerable amount of things overall. It was easy that way, my job was my sanctuary.

Another part of all of this…I haven't even touched upon yet. Was that I was trying to schedule finishing out filming on my short film…which *ugh…I still need to edit…anyway. It was a big deal for me…and another victim of my inherent ability to distract myself. The film was a tepid attempt at showing how easy it is to cloud our minds in times of or after events of great life stress. This story in particular was about a man in his grief and guilt over realizations of his sons death being directly caused by his drunken neglect. yeah…I like the rough stuff, I watch a lot of Lars Von Trier…so sue me.

But the producing process was a huge learning curve for me…and with the emotional weight of everything that had just happened…it was a tough process. I was working through stress on top of dealing with more stress. It was good stress…but compounded it was a little much to take. There were casualties. My blessed cinematographer stayed with me through it all. A friend of a friend came on as a producer…to help alleviate my work load and also gain some experience. He was dealing with his own stuff…and eventually our working relationship imploded. Which I don't hold anyone to blame for. It was actually one of the most important experiences I've had. In film, you always hear of creative disagreements on set…and they always sound scary and intense. So when being faced with the same thing I kinda crumbled a bit…But having gotten through it…barely…pulling up my bootstraps and just working with what I could to make it all work. Was extremely rewarding. Taught me a lot about what is really needed out of you to get that shit done! I'm still working on those skills.

So with my work schedule I had three days off in the middle of the week. Which is great for quick LA trips. I found that my father was being released from the hospital in conjunction with those days. So I decided to come down and help with the transition. He was going to just move to a hotel for the week, since he had to be right back for tests and the event that anything should happen. For sure now you can see what a logistical dance all this is. It's never quite over…the times in-between things to do just get longer. I head down on a Tuesday. "K" of course was aware, and she had taken Wednesday off to spend the day together. Pretty sure the plan was just to lay around naked all day. Pretty sure that's what happened…naked and dorky movies…a good day.

I digress.

Anyway, I get down to the hotel on Tuesday. My father and brother hadn't quite left yet. So I go in and take care organizing the room. We all get together and my father is sore…stiff. I can't even imagine what a wound like that would feel like…to feel yourself practically stapled together. Jeez. When talking to the doctors the main concern was to make sure the intestines weren't getting twisted, and working properly. So much injury. Injury everywhere, in the mind as well as the body. I'm thinking now that all three of us hadn't really been alone in a room together in years and years…years and years…wow.

I obviously wasn't staying the night. With how we'd been talking, "K" and I basically make plans together for me to stay with her. With all the above going on with me. Having someone…neutral to spend time with gave me a healthy release. Better than the bottle…thank god for my good friends but the alcohol solution to dealing with this particular situation didn't seem like it was the best route. Having someone…with no preconceptions of me…or my past, was a welcomed departure from how I usually use substances to cope. I still remained…relatively aware of the situation.

My brother and I got my father situated and went down to the store to grab some pre made deli sandwiches and whatnot. I talked with my brother a bit…about plans, what his needs were. How he was holding up. He was so excited to sleep in an actual bed…haha He was so ready to sleep. He had been living in the hospital basically. Trying to sleep on a cot made for someone half his size. Listening for sounds of distress from my fathers hospital bed. My brother…I know that there is a lot you can bring yourself to deal with when faced with an extraordinary situation. But I'm not sure I could have done what he did. When I left them, I told them I'd be around if they needed me, and to call me if anything happened, I would just be trying to relax.

I was in an emotionally damaging relationship for a long time. I learned to listen to my instincts after that. But I had found myself, when finally out of that situation, not really knowing who I was anymore…That was a scary feeling. I put a lot of work into getting back to feeling comfortable socially, emotionally, being able to open up again. In that process I did become quite selfish. I was selfish with my lovers, my affections, my friends, and family. Not so much directly as indirectly. In order to repair myself I needed to start putting myself first. But in that discovery I put myself first before anyone. My feelings came first, I came first, always. I had to go from one end all the way to the other before learning how to scale back to a balance. No one gets the balance perfect. I didn't.

"K" was a conquest. In the beginning. My LA conquest. Just like the rest of them over the past year. "K" just happened to be…turn out to be…something I didn't want to conquer anymore. My selfishness was on high when we met. In this…I felt I could find a reason to stop. A reason to open again. I thought so…anyway. My way of interacting with women had become almost sport. Very shallow in determination, short sighted goals. The idea being I would only put in the minimal amount of effort. I had been spoiled by finding plenty of friends who were true "bed buddies". Friends who wouldn't mind if you didn't call them for days, who didn't necessarily sleep over every night. I needed easy, but what happened was I became lazy. And partially irresponsible to what effect my actions really had. It was really hard for me to really take other's feelings into account. Or at least to act like I had.

Wednesday. was definitely naked and watch dorky movie day. We may have left to get coffee and donuts at some point. I felt in a canopy of someone else life. Just rolling around in someones else's bed, wearing someone else's skin. I didn't have a sick father, I wasn't from somewhere else…I didn't have to leave, she didn't like me this much…I living out someone else's world. It couldn't be mine. She was too beautiful, liked me too much, I lived to far away, my father was in way to serious a situation. This didn't belong to me. Thursday, after a very satisfying day. I had to leave my canopy life. I don't remember hearing from my brother or father all day Wednesday. "K" went in for a half day so we didn't have to get up so early. I didn't want to get up, I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to find out what was waiting for me…"K" and I did our usual, "you should come with me", "You should just stay" routine. It was getting harder to resist, harder for me to stay in my own head about me. I was slipping into familiar territory of making my life into someone else's. Escape.

As I left I called my brother. I discovered that my father had developed a fever the night before and was unable to properly eat or process food. They had returned to the hospital. At first I was incredibly upset at not being included in what was happening. Selfish. Too many times. I drive to the hospital, back to the same floor, same hallway. I check in with them…that guilt creeps up. My father insists he's ok…just working through it. Him and my brother are used to this. I think what it showed me…is the incredible adaptability of people. Yes, my father was in an incredible amount of discomfort. But I could see that his face had changed since Arizona. And rather than stay with my guilt, I actually felt better for him. That sounds really strange. But I think it came from me just needing to take what I could get from any kind of progress. My father was having the most intense of stomach ache…I'd take that over a monstrous growth crushing his insides any day of the week. And I think he was in the same place. And that little tiny bit of comfort went a long way down the road.

My father and I are very similar. I had the hardest time admitting that to myself but it's very true. When I see myself falling into behaviors similar to his…well I get really self conscious. I feel it's not any one's idea to grow up to be their father, however inevitable it may be. Ha. Well, my father to had a new lady in his life. One I had never met before that morning I show up in the hospital. They met overseas at some point and she flew over with everything. We're talking 4-5 months tops. It felt alien to share such and intimate  experience with a stranger. And with a stranger who had an intimate yet foreign relationship with my father. I'm very protective of my feelings remember. Close to the chest. So this felt like a violation at first. But…you grow up, you realize that there is a moment where your parents are separate people from you. They don't have any responsibility to put their life on hold for you, to check with you who or who shouldn't be involved with their intimate moments and events. There is a mutual separation between parent and child that happens with age. Again selfish. When faced with something that appears as selfish. Reaction.

I drove back home. I timed it to get back in the evening. Miss the traffic on both ends.


The comment on this pic says, "Wrong way, try again"…wrong way…try again.

To be continued.

Sickness, Summers, Fathers, and Lovers: Part 2 - LA is on fire.

Surgery and Aftermath. LA is on fire.

Waiting rooms. Seriously. Such a bizarre room. The thing that I realized while sitting there is that it's not just your family. You get to sit in with everyone else going through something either just as serious or random procedures. It's a strange mix. The ultimate people watching experience. You see it all in the waiting room.

My family was all accounted for. And all in various stages of "waiting game" frustration. We (or I at least) didn't get to see my father before he went under. They start pretty early. Not sure what time I got there…8 or 9am. I tried to bring a book, that wasn't happening. You constantly raise your head at the sight of anyone official looking coming down the halls. An overwhelming weight sits on you the entire time. You feel so saturated, and when sitting next to these floor to ceiling windows with the fire LA sky falling on you the entire time, I couldn't get comfortable. I found a corner chair away from everyone and just sat staring at printed words on paper, flipping pages only because I felt I had to feel normal. When in reality my heart was just waiting to stop.

Rape sloths. Yes. Those are kind of what got me through the day (for those who don't know, they are a controversial meme series). Now. Before you freak out on me, let me explain. Remember "K", that was one of the things we were cracking up about the night we met. The time I was sitting in that room, she would send me rape sloth memes. It was something that made me smile. I dunno, it warmed me to have something to laugh at, consoled me when very little else would. Despite what happens later in the story…without that…it would have been a very different day. And I've told her this since.

Deep down though, regardless of the texting distractions. There was something very important that I wasn't doing. I feel a lot of people are/can be guilty of doing this. No judgment here. But I was escaping the real emotions I was facing. What I wasn't doing, facing the feelings about my father head on. You get scared. Just the truth. It's something I've become very aware of myself in general. This moment. This opportunity. Such a unique chance to really get into myself and deal with shit, was I wasting it? I feel if it wasn't the girl it would've been something else. I'm a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. And later on, this comes back around…and still goes on now, why things happen the way they do.

My Uncle, brother and I go out for a bit. My texts with "K" have been pretty consistent by this point. As I think now, my head was in my phone for most of this day, well, a lot of it. My brother was standing by my father through this whole thing. Out of school for the summer, he had all the time on his hands. Also the fact that he was looking into nursing made it all the more appropriate for him to be there. But the connection between us is very silent. Both of us I feel are wanderers. Which gives us a sort of understanding between us. That's how I feel anyway. I never asked him how he was doing. He's a blank canvas sometimes. You just don't know where he's at. Unlike myself…I wear my emotions on my sleeves sometimes…ok a lot of the time.

My uncle takes my brother shopping for some clothes. He has been sleeping in the hospital room this entire time. With worn out jeans…living out of a suitcase, to which I can definitely relate to. I've always been amazed at his resilience through all of this. His ability for a nursing career definitely shows. He impressed me so much, we haven't spent that much time together in the last few years…but I'm always proud of him.

We return to the hospital for some more sitting. It was sometime between 2-5pm (I know that's a big gap but my memory of this is hazy) when the doctor comes to find us…

Success.

They had felt anyway, that the removal of the tumor was completely successful. The initial concern was that due to the size and location that all the tissue wouldn't be able to be removed. Which would mean either some small radiation or another surgery if it turned out to be an issue. But Doc felt that this wasn't the case. He looked very tired. He was allowed. The tumor was 27lbs. if you do the math, ladies and gents. That's just shy of 4 babies. Yeah. I felt the same way. We go in to see him after he's been cleaned up and put back to his room. Obviously there wasn't anything to talk to him about…he's so out of it when we see him…a thumbs up sign is about all he can muster…with a slight groan I can only assume was a laugh. I almost broke down…it was like "how many steps can I take before I just let it go" how far could I get away before letting it all hit me. I was getting very used to that pressure behind my eyes.

* I checked my calendar to confirm the dates and timing for the next sequence of events but couldn't find it on this new computer, at least not an accurate record. So I'm going with my gut.

I told "K" that Thursday was looking to be too much of a family day for me to come over. But to expect me Friday. I got work taken care of until Sunday Which allowed me all Saturday to take my time and drive up without a time limit. But I have to say, that I don't remember the family time Thursday. Pretty sure it consisted of going in between the hospital and other places. Lots of visiting with my father and listening, waiting, for doctor updates. Things were in a much better mood (obviously) With so much of my attention being pulled in one way or another, from work, family, sex, I never really focused on the conflict that was going on inside. I was ready to just pat my father on the back, say "good job for not dying" and take off, I wanted it to be that easy.

By Friday family was up and about in full swing. My father was more awake…but very uncomfortable. The operation had cut him open from belly to sternum. It looked like something…well…I just hope for all of you reading you never have to know what that looks like on a loved one. I know a few of you know what I'm talking about. It made me think…since I'm a film guy and all…that the argument for gore movies desensitizing youth, I don't think it’s actually as weighted as people think. I watch all kinds of crazy stuff, I like the rush, and the challenge it gives my perceptions. After seeing that on my father, believe me, it was like I'd never seen a horror movie before. The pressure behind my eyes…I wanted it gone so badly. There is a necessity to it I realize now. But then…I wanted feel anything else. 

"K" asked me to bring a bottle of wine when I came over. She had sent me her address earlier, and said she'd be home from work and ready for me around 6-7pm (I'm pretty sure that was it). I found the place about 45mins away from where I was…it was not the most popular traveled route in LA so traffic wasn't an issue. I remember not feeling as nervous as I thought I would be. After some U-Turns, I found a grocery store near the intersection of her place (VIA the address she sent) Grabbed some red and headed to her complex. Now I was getting that little be of awkward anxiousness. It was an open complex, like a village. I parked and found myself at her door. After two days of very frequent communication, even thought this was more or less the first time we would meet as "real" people, I remember being nervous...out of my element. I was playing outside of my comfort zone, in a new town, new girl…for the first time really.

When I go up to the door, immediately a dog from inside starts going crazy barking. You can tell it’s a small dog. And I'm like, of course…haha. I'm not really afraid of strange dogs or animals, I'm really very OK with meeting new animals but you know that feeling, it's this whole other element to the already awkwardness. "K" invites me in and apologizes for the mess. She had some less than mature roommates at the time so I could see a little bit of "college dorm" type messes. I didn't care…but of course she did. haha. Her barking little dog warmed to me eventually. Most animals do. I walked in and past her as she's explaining the mess and dog from behind me. I remember just turning back around, taking two steps for me to kiss her. Not too long of one, but not a peck. It was one of my best, one of those kisses where everything lined up. It softened my chattering nerves a bit, I felt at the time it did hers too. It was like that awkwardness when meeting a new person had disappeared.

We chatted about each other for a min. She explained this was the place she shared with her ex husband before they separated. I think I mentioned earlier the night we met she was celebrating her divorce papers going through. She walked me around and we went upstairs. We talked for a while actually, before you get any ideas. She is a total dork. I loved that. We bullshitted about our combined nerd stuff for a while. She pointed to and described things in her room. We started getting twisted up in each other…you know what I'm talking about. That pretzel that happens before you're OK with starting to really get to it. Clothes still on. It was the right person, at the right time, for the right reasons. However temporary those reasons were. Everything was right for me that night. My shoulders relaxed, I could let myself go of everything that was going on with me. This allowed that for me, this made me feel safe that night, whether she was aware of it or not.

I've experienced this a couple of times, as I’m sure a lot of others have as well, the somewhat awkward conversation of “can I sleep over? should I go?" haha. Thankfully, she was more than happy to have me for the night. That was a good night of sleep. Waking up next to someone like that is always a perfect way to start the day. It was Saturday now, and "K" didn't have work. I needed to get back to the hospital for family stuff before I started driving back home to the Oakland. I can't remember if breakfast was involved. Regardless, as I gathered my stuff she walked me out to my car bringing her dog. We kissed on the goodbye and she started walking back towards her place, to take her dog around for a sec. As I drove out of the complex I passed her and rolled down the passenger window. "You should just get in and come with me, last chance...” I said. She leaned in the window and gave me a long kiss. "You should just stay" I think she said. I may have said that I'll be back soon, she maybe said something like "just let me know". We both smiled and I drove off back to my real life. I still remember looking at her in my mirror until I couldn't see her anymore.

I could breathe again. I suddenly found I couldn't be bothered by anything. Most people would be like "of course you feel that way, you just got laid" and they would partially be right. But they would also be wrong. It was the connection, a true connection. I hadn't really…really felt that in a very long time. I missed that. In all the relationships I had over the past year, however fleeting this one night may have been, I hadn’t felt that in long time. But it was just a valve release…one valve release. I had more that were under pressure.

When I returned to the hospital, everyone else had already gotten there. Since I had been preoccupied I took my time, arriving maaayyybeee 9:30? All the same, there wasn't any kind of agreed upon meeting time but apparently everyone had been up early, I didn't really see the point in that, but my uncle called me out pretty quick for being the last one to arrive. I didn't tell anyone why that was. My uncle has a very strong personality. And he doesn't make apologies for it, and I respect that. Being able to finally look at him in the face and talk to him like an adult is something I hold very close to me. But when he did that, it did reinforce some underlying feelings. Escape. Detachment. Presence. I was doing the minimal amount expect of me in terms of being present with what was going on. I couldn't find the ability to do more. The doc said they would keep him in the hospital for only ten more days. I was surprised, we all were. It seemed like a quick turnaround but the doctor insisted that he just needed to make sure he start ingesting foods and protein on his own. Then it would be a series of checkups to keep an eye on any possible returning cancer growths. But the prognosis was excellent. There was a level of conflict that was eliminated for me. But at the same time, I new eventually I would have to deal with the real issues…This was an opportunity. An opportunity to really face some of the things I had bottled up about my relationship to my father. It was like someone said, "you're not getting off that easy, you have to deal with this." That was a hard thing to realize... But how exactly, to do it was even harder.

I took off from the hospital and hit the highway back to Oakland. I was a different person. When so much happens to you that affects you as deeply as all of this does, its impossible not to be. "K" and I continued to message each other. We played light flirting, "when are you coming back? “Let me know", etc.…my father was ok…for now. And I had just skimmed the surface of what was about to happen. Was I going to take this new information and do something with it?…or relinquish myself to its whim? You can control where things take you, or just allow it to do it for you. They are two very different things. But you have to learn to see it.

I ended up returning to LA ten days later…my father was being released from the hospital. 

To be continued.

Sickness, Summers, Fathers, and Lovers: MY Personal Journey to Los Angeles

* Just a preface. While I'm writing this, sitting next to me is the daughter of a very good family friend. She's the most adorable blond 4year old in the world. and now apparently is my buddy. Which is going to allow me to get through this much easier. Considering I write this with a very heavy heart.

*Also, I will not use real peoples names or names of the actual places. For the people who were involved and around, it won't be a secret, and probably obvious, but I will not be calling out anyone. That is not the purpose of this.




I really have to start at the beginning...


About 6-8 months ago I got a call from my brother at 7am. Our father had been traveling overseas the 6 months previous. While in India, he discovered (doctors did anyway) after a bout of extreme unexplainable weight loss, a serious tumor had grown in his abdomen. I knew, before my brother said anything else, that I was about to go through a loaded time in my life. And from his tone, I could tell that this was going to be about as serious as it gets. The rest of the conversation went through me like a train. My brother gave me the details in a warm yet no nonsense kind of way. I always appreciated him for that. I took in a deep breath, and put my armor on for the long haul. My chest felt caved in, and uncontrollable crying was sitting just behind my eyes. I could hold it back, but knew it really wouldn't take much to send me over the edge. I got up and started the first day of what felt like the beginning of a new life.



Over my life, history, experiences, pain…I taught myself to hold my emotions very close to the chest. It kept the pain from getting to deep. But, unfortunately, it kept the pain that did get in from being released. I can feel it, even now while I write this, it sits right behind the eyes. As if a boiling pressure wanted to explode them out. Just pure pain, that deep pain that comes from everything you are.



The next month was one of the most traumatic in my life. The diagnosis from a top cancer institute went from hopeful to grim almost hourly. At a time when you need something to just be "sure of" the most. It was never so. My father wasn't in the mood for "what ifs", he needed to know if he was going to live the next day. That was the situation. And even when he couldn't say it, you could read it like scripture on his face. Crying doesn't really stop after that. It just slows down and speeds up. I will never forget that face, in that dusty Arizona hotel, for the rest of my life.

When "terminal" was the final call, there was an odd wave of comfort. They described my father's ultimate fate as far off (year or two) and wouldn't come suddenly. 

Everyone could breath again before having to process the next round. Breathing mainly out of necessity, since we all hadn't been doing much of it recently.

With things a bit "calm", relatively, my father slowly travels up and down the west coast visiting immediate family and friends. I guess this is a good time to mention the location in which all this and what comes later takes place. I am from the SF area. My father is located in AZ. With this next section we descend upon Los Angeles.

My uncle (god bless him, even though I'm not religious) insisted that my father get a second opinion on possible treatments on the tumor. The decision of "terminal" was based originally on the size and proximity to major organs and arteries. Basically making it inoperable. Or at least this institution thought so, as it was so well regarded around the world my father was content with its decision. My uncle was not. So an appointment was made at the major LA medical center with a specialist. Everyone hopeful.



My father, who had come to an acceptance of his fate, wasn't hoping to get anything out of the appointment except further confirmation of the previous conclusion. Well, his mind changed when on the drive down to said appointment the tumor started impacting his internal organs. Before, it had simply taken up space. Now, his stomach and intestines were being "crushed". While driving down he found he wasn't able to eat...or even keep down water. My brother drove him straight to the medical center in LA, and to the emergency room.



At the time of all of this I was living in a house in Oakland, CA. I hadn't been there very long but it was comfortable. And more importantly I was living in my own space for the first time since a traumatic break up with my ex the year or so previous. Said relationship was three years long, and that came right after another relationship I was in while living out of state. So, to finally have my own space, just for me, as a solo person again, was pretty huge in my world. I was really at a point where my trajectory was hazy. I didn't know how happy I was in my area. I'd become accustomed to my "gypsy" like lifestyle. Moving every year, changing jobs, had just became normal for me. My point is as soon as I landed in my own world, I may have just as quickly started looking for a way out.



That's a really important point.



LA.



My job at the time was great. It was incredibly flexible, and I could shift hours around so I didn't have to lose much income. When my father had his consultation with the doctor, surgery was decided as a viable option. I told work when and how long, and took a drive that would lead my life to a whole new direction. I just didn't know it yet. 

At the time I was nervous, excited, relieved, and completely stressed out of my mind. It's funny, I hit some kind of euphoria of emotional overload. I was (figuratively) high the entire trip. I felt pretty crazy actually. Flying off of an emotional and physical roller coaster and not really understanding where I was. As I said, I play emotions pretty close to the chest...but now I was slipping into a loopy zone. To say I have a "conflicted" relationship with my father would be skimming the surface. I feel a lot of "men" have this...so I won't bore with the details. But its enough that I felt pretty weighted facing the possibility of having issues go unresolved permanently. My emotions had a firm grasp on my state of mind.



*The timing of what follows may be a little off as far as specific days, and how long in between things happened...I can only recall it to the best of my ability with everything that's happened since.



I arrive in LA on a Tues. I go straight to the hospital. Of course...pretty standard family emotional stuff. Members were bickering and over analysing the information. Leaving for food, and wandering about town can only last so long. Eventually I couldn't take it and went to my Grandma's to crash. The surgery was scheduled for Thurs. Which meant I still had all Wed to soak in LA heat...so I made plans on Wed night to meet up with friends. You think about this stuff in hindsight and its like...wow...that night was way more affecting on my life than I expected. It hits you in the chest sometimes. I have trouble breathing sometimes.



Wed. was a blur. I went to the hospital, I went for food, etc...The hospital scene that day was overloaded with well wishes, and the faint fog of unease. The general consensus was we were all satisfied with the surgeon, so the mood was very positive. But underneath everyone knew there was a possibility it could be my father's last night. My cousin co-owns a great little wine bar hangout, I usually go there to hang at least one night whenever I'm in town. This night I showed up planning to kill time before meeting my best friend who lived down the way. I was going to try and convince him to show up (which I eventually did) but in case that didn't work I wanted to get a little time in with the cuz before hand. Of all my family members, he's probably the one I'm closest to, I see him more often anyway.




I walk in, it's pretty early in the night I think...6pm or so. A little empty...but it's wed so whatever. This was June fyi, and it was hot. I had been everywhere, and I was sweaty and pretty dirty feeling. And was looking for distraction. wine obviously seemed like the first choice. A woman, or hook up would be nice. But really just to disconnect. I walk in and see him in the very back room area. As I walk into the bar I see these two girls sitting at the DJ station, using it as a table. It's basically a open window break between the back and the main floor of the bar. My vision was erratic at best. Hazy and blurred from my heightened emotional state as well as the heat.



The first one I noticed was sitting on the left. The dress was straight out of a Tim Burton movie. And she had jet black hair to match. This immediately got my glance. The other seemed nice but I didn't catch as good a look by the time I walked past to greet my cousin. She seemed "flashy",  I just kept thinking about the other one's dress. It was long, slim and slightly loose but fitting, white with black stripes, top to bottom. I can't say I saw her face clearly right off the bat. I was walking through pretty quickly. But I got a closer look later.


My cousin was sitting in the back on a computer dealing with business. We relocate to the front part of the space. As we pass back through the half doorway, I noticed the DJ was now setting up, and the two girls looked to be getting shuffled off their perch soon. I sit with my back to them. My cousin across while I mumble out whats going on. My breath shakes as I reiterate everything. The surgery the next day was to be incredibly long (5+ hrs) and still wasn't a guarantee. Nothing in life is, but this…well…if you needed anything to be a sure thing…it was this. 

Over the previous year, post the breakup I mentioned earlier. I…well…I was a slut. Seriously, I played the field, then went to play the field across town too. I was fucking my way through some serious baggage (Safely…always safely). I impressed myself. So, while talking to my cousin, I mentioned how nice it would be to have some distraction of the naked variety. I was into a glass of wine at this point. That coupled with my fragile emotional (and exhausted) state, it felt like 5 glasses. I whip my head around the bar, and mention I liked the look of the girl with the "Tim Burton" dress. Just to illustrate really, not being 100% serious. Now, I was still getting used to this "picking up" a girl thing. Mostly getting used to being able/comfortable to actually do it. I'm still a shy kid at heart. I sometimes still needed a little push,  but have gotten pretty good at carrying the ball from there.




I got my push…I think that's what happened anyway.


My cousin was always working. So, when I show up its normal for him to jump up and disappear when things need to get done. Soon after I mention the distraction, girl thing…I think I was also talking about my dating (slut) life…he gets up and walks past me to the back. I sit for a moment…on the edge of the table, the corner, from behind me I feel two bodies move past. One, whips around and sits where my cousin once was in front of me, and next to me…the dark haired beauty in a Tim Burton dress. 




I never found out if my cousin had anything to do with that. I never asked. I discovered later that the Tim Burton beauty, when I walked in, had eyed me as well…a moment where two things were meant to find each other. I think everyone knows what I'm talking about. You've felt it...

well, maybe I'm talking it up to much.

"K" sitting next to me, is pulling all my triggers…I was attracted immediately. A dirty, inappropriate sense of humor, and tattoos all over...beat my heart to death please. "S" sitting across from us was obviously playing "wing man". I could see the dynamic, I wasn't ignorant to it. It was a lot of fun. The flirting was flying…and got more and more pointed. Basically it came down to the two of us just inviting each other into a hot one night hook up. I explained my situation, she hers, and the deal was struck. I had my father's surgery, and she, celebrating the finalization of her divorce paperwork. Gotta love it when a plan comes together. The way that sounds, writing it now, cracking that armor of mine for a moment, just enough…


I was buzzed. I was dancing inside. My friends showed up while all this was going on. I have a bit of a reputation among my friends…of getting lucky in the most random of ways. I have some pretty good stories. But when "K" and "S" got up to leave…without hesitation…the first kiss. A buzzed wine kiss? well…but also I think there was something found that I needed. When they left, my friends gave me that look like, "you just met her tonight?!" Sometimes that's just how things roll. She started texting to me immediately. I could feel something starting…




I felt insane. I was buzzed off the wine and girl. But also the extreme stress of the tomorrow that had the potential to change my life dramatically. Now my emotions are spinning in a deadly cocktail of happy and sad. I had successfully numbed myself for the evening. But also I had found the emotional morphine button I was off handedly looking for. At the time I loved that I did. Who wouldn't. This gave me a place to go when I couldn't go anywhere. I was so grateful to have that. At the same time, now, I didn't have to be in my space. I could disappear, disconnect. At a time I had the real of real shit to process for myself, I now had a "check-out". That aspect wasn't a good thing for me. It was to attractive for me. I wanted to not be where I was so much. But thinking on it now…that's exactly where I needed to be.

Thursday morning I woke up at Grandma's. It was surgery day.



to be continued.