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things I have done this year (will continue to update this)-
- celebrated my bday at Dillon Beach
- took a girls trip to Waikiki
- visited Mexico City twice, and oaxaca
- did a summer euro trip to spain and Lisbon
- took a road trip to orcas island for a poetry retreat
- saw off ori and Lukas in LA
- hiked half dome!
- threw my first party at a real venue (and made some $)
- published my first article in a long time on the local music scene
- quit my job
- started a new job, in the local art scene
- hosted a bunch of my friends (claudia, Hannah, chris, reed, Jeffrey, Amy, ori, Lukas)
- took up yoga more seriously
- went to LIB and untz
- met someone I really love <3
- painted a dress for the artbash
- went to a cave rave
- stopped retail therapy and getting my nails done
- prolly took 30 covid tests
- saw so many concerts, esp local music
- was on the premier trivia team, Jeef Berky
- road tripped through Baja California
- visited the Salton Sea

some goals for next year, or: what will I put my clarity and diligence toward?
- reading more, being more informed, consuming more content (maybe even TV and movies)
- painting more, being more generally creative, constantly seeking out and trying new ideas. selling paintings. coming up with a longer-term plan for applying to residencies or MFA programs.
- throwing more ambitious parties: continuing to throw milk bar stuff, but maybe throwing a renegade for the first time, maybe sending around a bass mix and trying harder to get some more gigs / monetize DJing. keeping my radio show as a place for experimentation and fun.
- getting more involved with secret alley
- using the connections and opportunities from work more
- finding a way to contribute politically to my community, maybe working at the food bank or with youth
- continuing to log my thoughts on e-worm, potentially for compilation or publication somewhere someday
- continuing to be a good friend and partner, and spending time with loved ones


for 25 — clarity and diligence


to worm is one of life's greatest joys...
I'm returning from a classically roundabout drive home from my sugaring lady, coffee from saint frank's in hand, where instead of plugging my address into the GPS to find the fastest route, I meander through the winding streets, up and down hills inefficiently, basking in the glory of the late morning, early winter sunlight. though I drink a pumpkin spice latte and the leaves in golden gate park are a burnt orange, I insist it is basically winter, or as close as we get here in sunny California.
I've been watching white lotus recently, and Evangelion with Jason. the blonde wife says precociously in the former, "some women cut their man's balls off then wonder why they're not attracted to them anymore." the line has been rolling around my head recently, and I wonder if that will be the secret to success with Jason, that I haven't cut his balls off (could I if I wanted to?) and as such am still attracted to him. when I feel he does not reciprocate my affection, when he fervently disagrees with me, when he doesn't give in, does it make me more attracted to him, more desiring of his affection, admiration, love? does it have to always be a game, a give and take? honestly, maybe... "I mean no, but like yes"
Amy and I are in sync, even before I read she was listening to YLT - I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One has been an autumn classic, walking up Church after work listening to "Stockholm syndrome," the afternoon glow warming my orange puffer, I thought of her, and how she would like that moment, very "modern girl" and maybe I would bring her there when she visited. Jason and I got banh mis in a weird little mall, then waited endlessly for the N as the sun waned, a poignant dusk fell upon the idyllic Duboce park. the little moments in San Francisco can feel so special, so remarkably beautiful, so full of emotion. I guess that's true everywhere - chicago had so many such little moments, getting off the 6 in east Hyde park just after nightfall, trudging back to my apartment through the quiet snow, under the metra tracks, trader joes groceries in hand. cities are so beautiful, there's nothing like them.
[redacted] made a comment recently about jason not being 'alternative,' and it made me feel righteous and even a little smug, confident in my taste and perspective. it was cathartic to recognize that I'm not interested in people who are abstractly 'alternative' or 'hip,' wear the same baggy pants and workwear, have an earring or what have you. fuck all that - what's way more actually cool is someone who is unique and weird and wacky, and most importantly not like anyone else, and so definitively themselves. that's always what I've been attracted to, even with Louis who was aesthetically, I guess, 'alternative,' that was never the part of him that really spoke to me - it was that though he passed as 'cool' he was also just whack, said weird things and did weird things, wasn't cookie-cutter or safe or trying to be a certain way. just was, and was fun, and actually cool and interesting, and not from New York.
Jason has such an energy in a room - his understated but extremely cool clothes, all with an interesting story behind them (gold shirt from the Chinese brothel, pilot jacket from weird estate sale); his wild hair with sun kissed highlights, always on some Floridian beach, enveloped in the hazy, thick smoke of his circadian spliff; the way he moves his body, like the bassist from the quilters, kind of silly and floppy, not taking himself too seriously, but also a little self-assured, confident if not cocky. how he rocks the ugliest, tackiest blue reflective sunglasses he found somewhere on the ground, like all his sunglasses, until he loses them, like an off-duty model walking Nyla in the morning. and my (MY) thrifted game boy hoodie, MY yellow jacket, that look better on him than on me (it's so fucked up, honestly...) his extremely eclectic music taste, and all the artists he has introduced me to, when I so rarely meet anyone whose taste and familiarity with artists doesn't fit neatly inside mine. his perennial down-ness, to do anything, go anywhere, meet anyone, explore, adventure, experience, which is so invigorating, exhilarating, and freeing, so creative I feel we both are with life. and while doing anything, his critical eye, his observance, his ability to discourse about anything and everything, notice the nuances in any given situation...


what a beautiful day with Jason... I woke to a clear and sunny morning, no hangover from Noah's bbq because instead of drinking on antibiotics, I hydrated and played games with Catherine and zach. it was so nice to see them and feel some sort of camaraderie there, a hint of what it was like before, the rift that has lasted so long and only continued to grow. it was sweet to watch marc and zach wrestle on the ground just past midnight, the silliness of our college friend group that was once (and hopefully, in some way, will always be) so strong, I wondered what Jason would make of all of it.
anyway, I woke to a clear and sunny morning - a HAIM of a morning. I headed to arguello after some pinteresting en route to the farmers market to buy some flowers, but instead I was surprised by a phone call from Jason who was at my door with supplies to make French toast and where was I? I hurried home with a clear and sunny smile on my face, in my new old yellow rainjacket from ecothift, and entered my warm house to find his bike peeking out of the office and he already in the kitchen, whipping some eggs. he made us French toast while I watched him, lovingly, and we ate the tender pieces with peanut butter, maple syrup, and yogurt (his toast tip #8). after a short post-meal cuddle on the couch, we moved to my bed where we had some great and extremely overdue sex, then suited up for our big sunday adventure, going to the legion of honor. we got there just a bit over an hour before closing. I had such a nice time perusing those works of art with him, in those big gallery rooms without him with him. standing apart, thinking to myself, then coming back to him to share, or showing him a fun painting here and there. it struck me how fun it was to do that with him, this activity that I think of as fairly solo, a glimpse that I can just live my me life, but also with him, and it's nice, and doesn't contradict. the other day he sat in the room while I painted, and it strangely didn't bother me so much, didn't distract, as it often does when others are around. it is a nice comfort to sit in, and a joy, because I feel like I can gain a lot from sharing things with him - pieces of information at the museum, ideas for fun or for art, an obstacle I am facing in my painting. he has great insights, and feedback, and it is so nice to see him a partner in things like that, an interlocutor, even a collaborator. we watched the sunset from a nearby stump chair, and when we got too chilly we headed to terra cotta for a delicious meal of lamb biang-biang, pork dumpling soup, and black fungus with cucumber. I just dropped him off at home (he said my post-meal mood was so funny, distracted and contented, with shitty driving) and am sitting in my bed to worm and vibe, and research my notes.


so many things have happened in such a short amount of time, and all of them with him. going about my day I will randomly remember flashes of things that we have done together, and it doesn't feel like we could possibly have done them all in the short amount of time we have known each other.
- sitting hot, sweaty, disgruntled in his San Bruno living room on an atypically warm summer day, before heading south to the redwoods for an art fair, and tunitas beach, where I fell asleep on him and awoke to the sunset. him swaddled in a pink sheet (or was it white, rendered pink by the setting sun?) looking like Jesus or some sort of ancient Grecian, wild sun-bleached hair walking towards the cliffs
- after a tiff on acid not much more than a month after we met, him sitting on one of the raised platforms at the stacks, surrounded by wobbly bass-heads, his face animated by the pulsing stage lights, long legs dangling through the railing while he smokes a joint
- playing an absurdly long game of chess at a café in Eureka, where we both fared embarrassingly poorly, eating bagel sandwiches and sipping fun coffee on a late summer afternoon, before perusing a bookstore to buy ancient Chinese poetry and Native American myths
- moving so slowly - so characteristic of us - that we tragically arrive only in time for for the single-song encore of the band we had planned to see at starline social club, so engrossed we were talking about wealth and relationships to it over the most delicious burgers ever on a beer garden patio
- rolling around on the couch we moved to face the window with a sparkling view of the bay at dusk, fading in and out on some prescription-grade ketamine the day we returned from our road trip to washington
- a leaping, energetic, long-drawn hug when he got to my house on a wednesday morning in august, after I hadn't seen him for the two weeks I was gallivanting in europe
- him laying in front of me on a limb of a fallen tree atop strawberry hill at 10pm on a weekday, in my orange hoodie, smoking a j, after a spontaneous shroom-induced adventure through the park
- fucking in my childhood bedroom (weird) after a very fremont night with Jon and Aditi, him escaping into the night at 4am (classic) through my portal of a backyard door...


I joked to Jason yesterday night, walking back on Hayes from seeing Tauk at the independent on a little bitty dose of shrooms, that my writing has suffered since I started seeing him. no longer are there myriad insightful observations on the condition of being a modern woman - just memories of times we are spending together that function little more than diary entries. it is nice to read Amy and Claudia's moodrings and feel like at least someone is being the torchbearer, while I take my momentary respite from being fiercely independent and alone. I am learning something about myself in relationships - I am definitely a little all in, for better or for worse, and maybe I actually am more of a relationship person than I initially thought I was, in some ways. I am a giver, I enjoy the security, I like cooking for two...at the concert last night we were touching almost the entire time. I took a break to see if I would like that better, to touch no one, to sway to the rhythm of the music with only my own body as a consequence, but immediately I put my hand back in his, if I were there alone it'd be one thing but I was there with him, and the experience of that was so much better when I could feel him. maybe there's something there.


after a fight w Jason where I stormed out of his apartment at 10:30pm on monday, drove home, and cried, I am back in his bed working and worming while he listens to some obscure music in front of me. the 1.5 days where we didn't talk and were fighting (he might not call it that — he said not to take everything so seriously) were melancholy and drab, despite the beautiful and crisp early morning light in Cole valley while I waited outside the urgent care. no doubt that had at least something to do with the irregular pain radiating out of my right side, due to nothing other than a weird UTI, but also I couldn't shake the feeling that it was a particular loneliness engendered by the knowledge of having someone i loved out there that things weren't right with. the sun didn't shine so bright, I told him, and it's a good reminder to me that for all my talk of being unafraid of being alone (which, to clarify, I'm not) it really is a beautiful thing to love and be loved, and when you're lucky enough to have that, you should cherish and preserve it.


yesterday, I was pretty high at jason's and we were cuddling on his bed, after I spent an hour planning our December trip to Baja. we were exchanging sweet nothings—or maybe they were somethings—he gave me a bit of a meaningful look and said "I love you, you're amazing. I love spending time with you." a few minutes later when he was back at his desk working, I was staring off into the distance. he asked, "¿qué piensas?" and I faltered for a bit trying to come up with a convincing lie. instead I failed and gave him a sheepish smile, and admitted I was reliving what had happened 5 minutes ago. he leapt to the bed and sat on top me while I laughed and said that it just sounded so good when he said he loved me. he leaned down and right in my ear said, "I love you." continuing to laugh I said I couldn't believe he was talking to me. he said, "juhi, I love you." "there," he said, now he couldn't be talking to anyone else. "I feel like im in a dream," I said, to which he responded, "then let's sleep forever..."

yesterday night, while Jason was working late, I drove back to mine to feed helio, made saffron vodka lobster ravioli, and drove it back to his to eat it with him from the pot. expressively devouring the delicious meal, he said, "I can't believe this was just delivered by an angel to my bed." I said while walking into his at 11 p.m., pot in hand, that even I surprised myself sometimes, by which I meant that my affection and care really knows no bounds. I said to him the other day that it was so nice to have someone that deserved my nice, deserved my caring, deserved my endless love.