A Fine Film - Must See!

The Apple. This is a very wonderful movie. It's Iranian. These two retarded sisters are finally allowed to leave their house and they are given ice cream bars which they feed to a goat on the street. Also one sister tries to lick the microphone. It is a fine, fine film.

The Nude Beach

Black's Beach in the 70's...was much more hoppin' than it was in the 90's.

***No disapproving old farts may read this***

Long, long ago, when I was finishing college in California...1996 to be precise...I had a very free-spirited Mexican boyfriend (who is now becoming a very successful cinematic director*,) and I felt pretty liberally expressive around him cause he'd do things like pull down his pants on the street and chase me as I ran away screaming....He always loved shocking people - still does. Wouldn't hesitate to wear a wig to a fancy restaurant, all that kind of pranksterism. I was thrilled and contented by his bravery. (It was actually quite a match, though we had our issues, and since 23 is no time to get married anyway, it's a time to explore, we wound up going our separate ways. Believe me, there has been much mutual woe over this.)

Anyway, I will call him Isaac. Isaac and I went to Black's Beach a few times. It was and is a nude beach, except now most of the people wear clothes...and it's quite empty.

He lived in San Diego, which is a surfer's delight, and I don't like big waves. (Though when I was a girl on vacation in Hawaii, I'd "boogie-board" in the hugest of them and wasn't scared a bit...age 11...I don't know when or why I learned fear.) But Black's Beach had tiny waves so he took me there.

Black's beach looks like it used to be all the rage, right after the sexual revolution. (I don't know how evolved a man has to be to tame his erection like that.) But now, it is all but abandoned. Frankly, I liked it that way. I like an empty beach. A crowded beach is pure human misery to me.

This might look fun to you, but to me it looks miserable.

I like solcitude on the beach.

I'm just realizing that this story is anti-climactic. I don't mean to disappoint you.

But at Black's Beach, most of the people who were nude were mothers from hold-out communes and old men with long dongs and long beards, looking around them wondering where all the excitement went. (And yes, your worst fear is confirmed men - some day, your balls will droop and sag, just like our boobs will, so get ready!)

And not being terribly impressed in any direction by anything I was seeing, I decided that I would be open-minded and take off my top. Now in many places in the world, this is not a big deal. But in many places, it is a VERY big deal. In Latin America, for example, this is a very big deal. In fact, once in Central America this German lady and her daughter were bathing nude on a beach in quite the Evangelical small town (where the girls bath in men's t-shirts) and a crowd pretty much gathered to gawk. I don't know how these people were enjoying themsleves, being so culturally insensitive, but Germans are like that - once a German tourist went to a Honduran vegetable market wearing a thong and all of the children ran home to tell their mothers about the crazy "gringo" - but anyway -

When I made the choice to free myself of constraints and bear my breasts to the Sun God, the Mexicanos came walking by, I mean guys that were newly arrived in the States...guys who weren't used to this kind of thing...and I had to close my eyes because I knew they were gawking and it was painful.

Liberal, crazy Isaac began to squirm and actually covered me up with his arm. No matter how evolved, a man has his limits.

That's really the end of the story. I didn't go nude again. I don't really plan on it. That was it. Curiosity satiated. And when I see those Euro-bathers, I see it with a combination of envy (at the lack of shame) and disappointment (at how intimate parts of our bodies could be treated so casually and impersonally.) I mean, are men supposed to look, or not look? And vice-versa - how much looking is a person allowed to do without having empty bottles of tanning lotion thrown at them?

*We made his undergrad thesis together...co-wrote it... yours truly designed the costumes/set...it was terrible...a man has a dream that masked people are smearing fruit all over him...now when I see it, I can't stop laughing...but at the time, we thought it was very deep....we won an honorable mention at the Director's Guild of America Latino Film Festival...which puzzles me today...

The Last Date (I hope.)

Feel free to peruse the latest addition to "Keep Rollin' Those Dice".

What would Jesus do?

Some years ago, when I was younger and more carefree, I decided to try a "one-night-stand". This, to me, means meet someone, trounce through the tulips, and disengage as quickly as possible. I've not been exactly "scant" on partners - though once when a new gynecologist was interviewing me and asked me if "a lot" meant more than 100 I was shocked - I'd have to be a 70-yr-old hippy chick to acheive such a shocking statistic, or perhaps just really friggin' crazy.

I'm a good, solid, American college-educated liberal woman and we tend to appreciate a bit of "belt-notching". - some experimentation - however I've never been the type to just find someone just sexy (but not interesting or lovable,) bed them that night, and flippantly say goodbye. (This is the impression I might have given with "Love is a bitch on a grass mat" however it is a mistaken impression.) But in this case, I was captivated by an empty bubble disguised in the precept of destiny. Furthermore, I had recently broken off my engagement, returned the ring to one very pissed-off individual, and was in need of a "rebound". (Does that make any sense? Probrably not.)

Nathalie's Series of Big Mistakes with Pedrito

There was a young man from the Dominican Republic whom I had danced with several times at salsa clubs. I'll call him Pedro. When we danced, we never talked. I knew nothing about him, but dancing is quite enjoyable that way. It makes it very mysterious.

This guy was about 22, and on the wholesome side of sexy. Basically, I felt that I was in safe territory with him, and in control of any potential situations. Hence, I could proceed when....As I was boarding a plane to L.A. to pack up my stuff and leave, I passed by him and we smiled. It had to be - Destiny! I promptly invited him to sit in the free seat next to me. It was a less than interesting conversation, but I did not heed my instincts - I was too busy entertaining myself thinking about the novelty of a seduction coming about under such random circumstances. I had formed my plans as soon as I saw him sitting there and I was going to make him fit into it no matter what. Typical of an Aries person. Big Mistake.

Lets just skip the details and zero in on the facts: That night, Jay was planning to stay at my apartment. I know that seems precipitous, but due to our geographical/financial situation, he was going to be there overnight or not be there at all, so I chose overnight.

At the first knock, I opened the door with much anticipation and was in a state of shock to find him without the clean-cut little oxford shirts he usually wore, but instead with an over-sized t-shirt reading JESUS SAVES.

I just wanted to shut the door, but I was stuck, I was stuck and didn't know how to get out of it, so I tried to look on the bright-side, and think, "this is going to be culturally educative." Predominating though was that "sinking feeling".

We sat on my bed and talked, since I had sold most of my furniture. For some reason, I had a scented candle lit. I never light candles - maybe I was trying to use it up before I left L.A. Also, all of my electricity was coming from a powercord draped across the gangway from my friend Steve's apartment to mine, since my power had been shut-off. And, stuff was scattered all over the place, partially packed.

Jay and I sat on the bed and had a conversation. We probrably were supposed to be doing other things, but the Evangelical t-shirt was repelling me - it might as well have read BIG IDIOT. I just couldn't look him in the eye.

I asked him about his family, and his life in the Dominican Republic. Bad Idea. He told me that his father had died. I asked how. Bad Idea. He had died of gangrene.

Then Jay began to show me, using my own leg as a model, how it crept up until it was too late. And then suddenly, he moved quickly and bumped the candle, and wax grotesquely splattered all over my black jersey sheets. I was stricken; I was baffled. But I was stuck.

How could I get him out of my apartment, out of my twin bed? It was too late - we were too isolated. In retrospect, I suppose I could have pretended to get sick or something - it wasn't like he was the agressive type - but instead I chose to get his t-shirt off of him to try and forget about what it said and who he was. I was just still going to try to make the experience fit into the idea I had formed on the plane. What can I say. It was a low-point in my life. It was unreasonable and out-of-control. I was making a notch in my belt, just cause I could, and the notch meant nothing. The notch was just an empty space.

And as you can imagine, the notching didn't go too well. I'll spare you the gruesome details.
Just think:

pleasure...10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...profound sense of the tragic

Experience rates: 1

***

Sometimes, things are best taken at face-value.
Sometimes, it is best if you don't know anything about someone.
This was the case with Pedro. And there has not been another Pedro.

little by little

For now I'm going to be documenting this drawing as it happens.

We will get there someday...

Bernie said I can leave his half-absconded face on the blog for now.

Paint Job

I can compete with the best of 'em.

Not Preggers.

Just a minor note of clarification - the last entry did not mean that I got pregnant in order to get the guy, though that would probrably work. I have a little dignity though, even if it's just a smidgeon...and besides, I would love to have a screaming little bundle of joy with this man someday, but I'd like a few years of repose first.