Meat Fried Meat with Meat Sauce

A Vegas buffet is very revealing about American tastes in food. Over 200 feet of edible products and it's not an exaggeration to say that there's some kind of meat in nearly every product! I know, because I had a very hard time finding veggie fare... so hard in fact, I had to resort to asking the chefs to make food fresh for me (which there were happy to do).

Turns out, the same chef who got me meat-free veggies also was the omlette chef. He sympathized, but thought I was being a bit hypocritical about eating eggs. "So, no meat except for chickens?"

"Huh? Chickens?"

"Yeah, you're eating eggs!"

So I explained to him that the eggs we eat were not in fact, chickens, nor would they ever be. Not chicken fetuses, not future chickens even, no, edible eggs are unfertilized eggs. Now, I admit, eating cooked fluids from the insides of a bird don't sound that appealing, but at least no animals were destroyed in making my omlette. That's like saying drinking cow's milk is like eating steak. Both are fluids used by mothers to nurture future animals, but we aren't killing the mother.

Of course, the living condition of these animals gives me pause, so we also try to limit intake of the products, but when I'm grazing in a place where animal meat excess is the norm, I figured it was okay to indulge in a little chicken uterus juice (mixed with spinach, red peppers, bell peppers, onions, and some cow breast juice).

When in Rome, right?

Besides, a good sushi roll might contain hundreds of unfertilized fish, so what's a few unfertilized birds among friends? Oh, and don't get me started on fruit being the sex organs of plants! ;)

Tips On Tipping

The service in Vegas is GREAT. So, I've been tipping. Here's what I've discerned.

Taxi: 20%
Curb-side check-in: $2/bag
Airport porter: $2/bag
Shuttle bus: $2
Valet: $2
Bellhop: $2/bag
Waitress: 20%
Bartender: $1/drink
Hotel Maids: $1/night

I don't know if that makes me a generous tipper or a miser, but people seem happy to see me again. Not so much for the maids, but I always put my room on a 'will-call' list because I never need maid service in a hotel.

If I had any kind of money, $2 would probably be $20 and 20% would probably be 30%. I bet I'd get real good service then!

Take A Letter, Maria...

C---------------- Csus2 - C
I'm moving to Ve ------ gas,

--------------------------F6 -- F
Gonna have me a good time,

Fmaj7 -------------G ----- G6
Makin' changes in my life,

C6 -------------- F6 --- G7 ------- C
Keeps gettin' better all of the time.

Almost There...

$300 gets me a one-way ticket to Vegas, a car for a week, and a hotel room overlooking the city for two nights.

So we're really leaving...

Getting Closer!

A victory of sorts... That place on the 29th floor? Guy turned out to be a jerk toward trans-folk, however the good news is that his problem didn't affect me at all... I was just really bummed to lose the opportunity to scour the gym and pool for potential roommates.

Moved the bulk of my stuff into storage. It feels good to get exercise!

Came home, applied for 10 or so jobs in Vegas and printed out some housing leads (5 Vegas, 2 Vancouver, 1 Amsterdam) for quick access/memory when I get off the plane.

Yes, that's right... gonna live out of a suitcase for a while until I find a good spot. I think Vegas for the next 3 months, and unless I find a perfect spot, probably Vancouver next, but perhaps Amsterdam en route to Italy. Maybe all three!

Now that my stuff is stored, I'm finally starting to get excited about traveling, which is a welcome change from the fear acquired after my 2 1/2 year stint in the midwest.

Breakdown!

I can't find a solution. Less than a week to go and I got nothing that even "seems like a good idea at the time." Seriously starting to freak out! Moving to a desert at the start of the summer season seems like madness.

A friend said, "you'll get into survival mode, you'll know what to do."

Perhaps; but what if "survival mode" is telling you to give up? I feel like I got into survival mode back in London and haven't been able to get off Defcon 1. Oh wait, wrong decade, I meant "terror alert level: severe"

I'm not sure there's any more will left. I'm not sure I care about tomorrow. Even a plant needs a sunny day. For all my accomplishments, I can't help but feel I've failed miserably on the human front, and now, whether or not it be true, I feel like I'm facing a long, hard winter alone with no provisions.

Not everyone sees it this way. My friend used words like "enjoy" followed by "adventure." Practical optimism. It might work. Would an optimist going to hell at least enjoy the journey there? Would doing so stifle preparations and only make the final decent worse, or would such an act of faith redeem? Is it possible for the fervent to fear the path to heaven?

The possibility of complete and total collapse is now very real.

Well, I still have a dream and I've gone this far... no point in looking back now!

Rules To Live By

I have a theory that life can be most fulfilled by following and applying a small set of rules, perhaps no more than five, to every circumstance.

Right now, I only have three.

For every situation, encourage a positive outcome.
(2008)

See the beauty (God) in everyone and everything.
(2007)

Leave places better than you found them.
(2006)

This last one might be more of a procedure than a rule, and since it doesn't apply to every life situation, I won't include it as a rule. Nevertheless, seems like good advice.

Every time life offers a lesson, write it down.
(2008)

I suppose it goes without saying that if you encounter the same lesson more than once, then you should try a little harder to apply it.

Miracle Of Life

Evolving from the bottom of the sea to land, to air, to space... isn't it all the same thing?

From single-cells, to fish, to fish with lungs, and then limbs, to reptiles, then mammals and us... our history leaves me in awe.

From lifeforms that turn sunlight to energy, to ones who turn the latter into energy, and to ones who turn those into energy! Nevermind lifeforms that need not sunlight- they turn sulfuric acid into energy. How can life not be elsewhere?

So what I'm high... it's 4-20! ;)

Bill Maher Is Going To Hell

Bill... you gotta enlighten yourself and drop the bit about otherwise intelligent people believing in talking snakes; it demeans your intelligence! Please, let me, as a scientist, present some facts in a way that a logical, rational man like yourself can hopefully accept.

• Hell is literally 50 miles below us. We float on a ginormous ball of fire - so big and glowing so long as to be close enough to be infinite and eternal to pre-21st century minds.
• Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. You are the composed from the product of ashes from this fire, millions of years' worth of dead organic matter, and water. You will return to this same dust.
• Heaven is through us. Jesus Christ said Heaven is through him, but it is accepted by the church that Christ can be found in each of us. Meditation gurus, Buddhists, and Taoists know that in order to become enlightened, we must also first look within ourselves. Whether you call that inward direction analysis seeking God or Jesus, following your Tao, or meditation, the process is the same no matter what you call it. When you get to the summit, dismount your donkey. It matters not how you got there... it matters you are there.
• Creation myths are difficult to accept. Because we don't have the language to describe the insights achieved through spiritual meditation or deep intellectual thought, they are often difficult to grasp and lend themselves to what seem logically impossible things. Which is harder to believe... at some point a snake could communicate (as one animal to another still can today) or that the whole of creation - the Earth, the solar system, the Universe was contained on the head of a pin? We don't even have models of physics which explain the later, yet this is what is commonly believed! Would not angels dance on such a pinhead?
• The Bible's stories are not incompatible with science's stories. Evolution could be the biological process manifest from the will of God. Before the big bang, there was nothing until something (we don't know what) said, "let there be light!"Science has more unexplained than it has explained, and to guide that gap in knowledge, the best we have is the word from our ancient fathers... which must have some levels of truth to survive this long. (Do you think your show will be in the public consciousness 10,000 years from now?)
• Being spiritual does not mean believing dogma in lieu of the meaning of the message. Nor is it wise to understand the text literally in a context far removed from its creation.
• Our most gifted and famous scientists were not atheist, evidenced by a lifetime of their writings and quotes. The scientists most responsible for enlightening our world believed in some sort of God. Some of my favorites include
• Blaise Pascal: "There are two kinds of people one can call reasonable: those who serve God with all their heart because they know him, and those who seek him with all their heart because they do not know him."
• Albert Einstein: "I believe in Spinoza's God who reveals himself in the orderly harmony of what exists, not in a God who concerns himself with the fates and actions of human beings."
• Newton: "It is the perfection of God's works that they are all done with the greatest simplicity. He is the God of order and not of confusion. And therefore as they would understand the frame of the world must endeavor to reduce their knowledge to all possible simplicity, so must it be in seeking to understand these visions."

Please, continue to be funny, but use your powers for good... make fun of human folly from politicians and entertainment artists, but don't spread seeds of disrespect toward a creator. Whether to you the Bible is a history book, the word of God, or a children's book matters not, for all are true, but please understand that your views and opinions, like it or not, will shape the minds of millions.

The more science tells us about our world, the more in awe I personally become from the miracle of life. If more people understood this, surely it would go a great way toward making this planet truly Heaven on Earth.

Overwhelmed...

Worried depression might be taking hold. 14 hours of sleep yesterday and it was still an effort to get out of bed. Worse, the dreams were not productive; they were restless, unresolved mini-dramas. I can only hope that this was the physical manifestation of my sub-conscious working overtime to find a path through this tangled web of space-time that solves my housing crisis.

Clearly, I'm worried, and on top of this, the warm weather is prompting clothing styles which do not necessarily lend themselves well to sustaining my illusion of womanhood. Or maybe they do, it would seem reasonable my self-image radar is off given the current life stressors.

Craig's list has been ... illuminating. I've been thankful to get many replies to my post seeking a room, but less fortunate in finding someone who has to offer what I asked for. Seems a lot of people have bought houses out there with the intention of renting them out. Neighborhoods of streets cul-de-sac into forms more resembling bronchial passageways than homes. Seriously, check it out for yourself! Miles and miles of nothing but residential housing.

Ike is the best opportunity thus far... a meticulous, 40 year-old drug-free European living just over a mile West from South LV Blvd. Lives in a neighborhood called Valley View VII. Creative name. He is fond of sending me photos of himself mixed in with the house. I guess this is appropriate, as I'd probably see his face if I lived there. Here's where he lives.

Mystery man has exactly what I want... a room on the 23rd floor of a high-rise condo one block West of the strip. But he's gone strangely silent after getting a photo, much like I do when they ask me for photos in my swimsuit, although again, using Ike-logic, since they have houses with pools, I suppose it's not an unrealistic, if pig-headed, desire.

Speaking of boys who want swimsuit photos, LJ has a nice place, but two dogs, who "are hardly in the house" but maybe an hour a day and at night, or in Clio's words, "1/3 of the time" which is close enough to "all the time" for me. I don't want to live with animals other than humans.

Daniel, who also has a Ph.D. is also looking to meet people. He offers an older home in a poorer part of Vegas, but is otherwise genuine and upfront. He's divorced with a 7 year-old and already renting out his den to two college girls. He regales me with predation stories in an effort to a) warn me of Vegas, and b) let me know he's quality. Seems on the up and up (in so far as it can be) but not really what I'm looking for.

And then there's SOFIA who can only type in all caps. Born and raised in Vegas, I actually spent about an hour talking to her about the area before I found out she was ... 17! Eeep! Funny thing, she's quite mature for her age and is seeking a 30-40 year-old woman to share a house with on the outskirts of Vegas. No kidding. I wonder if I qualify? Her only age give-away is her sheer enthusiasm mixed with a lack of real-world vocabulary as evidenced by an over-frequent use of "amazing, wonderful", "great", and "awesome". The red-flag and drama-meters are pegged, but I'm not sure she's a creature can be measured with normal person calibrations. Dad pays the rent and gives her a car. In many ways, it sounds too good to be true... but then again, so do I. At any rate, what she's looking for in a house (location-wise) is not what I'm seeking, but my heart goes out to her... poor thing.

And then there's the slew of boys who live 20 minutes from the strip (by car) who responded to my ad anyway. (In it, I said I was looking for something close to the strip... 20 mins away is about as far away as you can be and still be in Vegas!) Besides, have you seen Vegas traffic? It was awful 6 years ago, I can't imagine it now!

And what would the internet be without the boys looking for a girlfriend by offering free rent in exchange for cleaning and sexual favors? I wonder if I'd be rejected by them? OMG, those poor ladies who go out there and the get evicted at a moment's notice. I think my heart would break out there from all the sad stories.

Finally, I wonder if I'm the kind of girl that has to be met in person to be appreciated at face value. My goal is not to deceive, but suddenly now that I'm passing, I'm struck with the double fear of being exposed and, odd as it sounds, not passing. Both will subside when I can pass in a swimsuit... not quite there yet, though... at least, not at the Vegas level of pretty. (Self image is rotten masculine now.)

Hmmm... Italy probably won't be much better... but maybe I'll be different enough to still look feminine compared to all the local beauty.

Maybe I don't want to go to Vegas in some sort of sharing arrangement. I certainly don't think I can survive out there without a car. And what the heck am I doing considering moving to a desert anyway?

I think I need a nap.

... But Hopeful!

So Vegas is looking suspect, but how can I go to Italy with no passport?

Will it arrive before I have to leave? Will I still have time to get a ticket?

These are the thoughts going through my mind as I decide to check the mail. Lookit what came! The brochure included with my passport seems to answer the question between Vegas and Italy...

OMG, yay yay yay! My transition is (legally) complete!

Duhbate

Regarding the democratic debate, I agree with Jon Stewart's summary:

The first hour of last night's debates was a 60-minute master class in how to elevate out-of-context remarks and trivial insipid miscues into topics of national discourse.

So I wonder... are Americans too dense to understand a detailed, 500-page essay from each presidential candidate on what they intend to do and how they intend to do it? What about a 5-hour power-point presentation? Is that too much to ask from them? I don't think so, many Ph.D. candidates have to do this in order to graduate, so using that as a prerequistite to running the country leading the free world doesn't seem like too much to me.

But then again, I think rain is wet, so what do I know?

Learning Italian

Vegas or Italy... honestly don't know which one yet, but I'm preparing for both. The above photo is also both at once!

Cleaned up the old resume and am now looking (and applying for) freelance jobs in the Vegas area. Also reading a book on learning Italian. Italian for Dummies, whatev! This book is like two years of French class wrapped up in two chapters! Oh, wait a minute... ;)

My goal is to get the basic vocab and grammar down (it's a mix of Engish, French, and Latin rules!) so that once there, I can focus on learning new words via immersion. Might also do Rosetta Stone stuff after I get the grammar down. You know, immersion before the immersion?

Italian is a beautiful language in its simplicity. For example, you can omit most subject pronouns with verbs as the conjugation of the verb tells you which pronoun would proceed it! In other words, I could just say, "want chocolate" and how I conjugate 'want' implies 'I' want, or 'you' want, or 'she' wants, or 'they' want ... Fascinating!

Also, the nouns, pronouns and adjectives are masculine and feminine but they all must agree and they all will have different endings based on the object you're talking about. For example:

• il ragazzo italiano - the Italian boy
• i ragazzi italiani - the Italian boys
• la ragazza italiana - the Italian girl
• le ragazze italiane - the Italian girls

You can see now why I'm trying to get all this straight before I go there! :)

And I'm loving the use of accents. I wish English used them more. For example, in Chinese how you say the word "ma" changes what it means! If you say it in an even tone (like a typical American male says everything) it would be MĀ. If you said it like a question, it would be written MÁ. If you said it in a falling tone, MÀ, and if you said it with a rise and fall, MÂ. They all mean different things! (“mama”, “hemp”, ”horse”, and “to scold” - a naughty word, I was told!)

Italian isn't that extreme with the use of accents, but it still uses them. My name has one... the altered pronunciation from it is probably too subtle for most Americans, but that's okay. I'll hear it when someone says it!

Another neat thing about Italian, the penultimate (second to last) syllable in each word is usually the stressed syllable. That's why an Italian accent sounds the way it does! Neat! Well, that, and the way they pronounce the vowels, A (ah), E (ay), I (ee), O(oh), and U (oo). But the stress is what really makes the language sing: ee-ta-lee-AN-oh (Italiano). I don't have synethesia, but I hear the notes (g, f#, g, E, c) when I hear that word! Cursing in French may be like 'wiping your ahss with silk' but speaking everyday words in Italian is like singing a song!

Of course Vegas still lures me. It's the one city I considered living before I initially left America and it's now the last American city I'll consider living in. I guess it's fitting in some ironic cosmic sense that I could feel so at home in a city so fake. I don't know... something about the fakeness is comforting... as if the whole town knows enough not to take itself too seriously.

Perhaps I'm just drawn to the opulence of it all. I mean, if America is all about living in excess, then Vegas is that done right!

LOR Logic

I'm not a big Tolkien fan, though I thank Peter Jackson for making available to me his beautiful animated illustration of the Lord of the Rings, without which, my knowledge of hobbits would be greatly diminished. Anyway, there's a line from Arwin to her father, speaking about a vision of the future they've seen where she marries Aragorn, the king of men.

In the vision, she and he have a child. Her father, fearing the Middle-Earth equivalent of Armageddon, wishes her to leave on the last of the elfin space ships, which just happen to look like normal sea-faring vessels except for the warp drive, hidden below deck. Clever creatures, those elves!

Fearing her father is right, she almost leaves, but along the way, she suddenly realizes a fundamental truth about divination... though the odds are short for her vision to come true, one thing is certain: if she leaves, there will be no chance she and Aragorn will wed and have a child.

So... internalizing... even when all the odds are against you, you can't win if you don't play. Haha, I should write slogans for lotteries!

I know this is my year for the WSOP. I can't afford a ticket, but if I'm at least out in Vegas, that only brings me closer to my dream and closer to (now unseen) opportunities to get in the game. One thing is for certain: if I'm not in Vegas come July, there's no way I'll make the final table.

Working Weekend

Narrowing life down to Italy or Vegas. Italy represents a new life of unscripted adventures, while Vegas pretends to hold at least a glimmer of professional respectability.

Each choice would be consistent with my prior residence history. Every house I've owned or flat I've rented was either next to sin or salvation. After leaving Georgia (where I lived across the street from two malls), I lived across the street from a church, above a sex shop, across the street from a strip club/brothel, across the street from a church, then across the street from another church, then above a poker hall.

Thus, Italy, the home of the Pope seems a logical choice as does, Vegas, the city of sin!

If Italy, then I will most likely sell everything I own (again) and take what money is left and travel the world with just a suitcase, living day-to-day, taking whatever opportunities arise until I find myself a new home. I giggle at how many people who know me must think this insane.

Vegas holds a few more options:

• Poker
• Consulting/Programming
• Cocktail Waitress
• Escorting

I giggle again at how many people must think this insane. I can hear them now ... a Ph.D. and you'd consider being a bar maid or prostitute? Haha. Yes!

At this point, any sane person thinking these things must come to the conclusion that I've gone completely bonkers. I prefer the term "enlightened." You can keep your 9-5 and all that materialistic crap. You can even have my material possessions if you like! You can't take it with you, you know! Plus, the things you own end up owning you!

So once again, I stand on the brink of two dualities, comfortable in either realm: materialistic excess, and simplistic living...

"Thomas Jefferson"-type Shit

Happy Birthday, Thomas Jefferson! You wrote many a parchment extolling revolutionary ideas of your time, not the least of which was "The Declaration of Independence" and with it, you helped launch the first country in history based on the principle that every individual possesses certain "unalienable" rights.

Well done!

My friends have big ideas too. One of them wants to revolutionize democracy in this country... by creating a new political party that has at its root, a completely democratic, objective, and measurable process. With it, the people would be assured of having an equal voice, and the government would then have metrics for establishing progress.

His idea, but he wants me to build the thing. I always said I would either be the first to leave this country or the one to lead the revolution... I'll probably do it!

Look for http://3rdParty.org if not this next presidential election, then soon thereafter!

Around The Smalltown World

If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be? If there was nothing tying you down, no kids, no job, no home, no family... where would you go?

I felt it was always a dubious decision to move from smalltown Indiana to smalltown Georgia. Athens feels just like Muncie. (To be fair, Bloomington might be a better comparison.) If I had hesitations before, now there is no doubt: Georgia is out!

Why? A friend had offered her place to stay while I regrouped, but last night I learned that she was not going to be around, as in, not living in Athens. The house is like, over a mile away from the nearest gas station, and I never did see a grocery store, so riding the bus everyday in the Georgia heat? Ugh! Plus, she's pushed back the move-in date so that I'll have nowhere to stay for nearly two weeks after I'm out of here. Bummer. If she really didn't want me to stay there, but wanted me to make that decision for her, I'd give her an A+... these two events make what seemed like a safe haven no better than here. Worse, actually. I was really looking forward to being the lady of the house, cooking, cleaning, and generally taking care of her. So that's a bummer.

Maybe it's time to apply some gorilla warfare tactics to my life. Life is hard, I'm soft; lesson is that I'm flexible. Life is jobless with no home; lesson is I'm free. Assuming I shell out $120 for a year's worth of climate controlled storage (a tiny little lot) then I am now quite mobile. Conclusion: life is telling me that now is the time to travel. Pack up the office, fit everything you own into a 4x4x4 space and move on!

Okay, but where? Someplace familiar? Someplace where kind friends are? I've been meditating on this for the past two days. Some might say I've been sleeping 14 hours a day, others might say I've become depressed. Sometimes I do my best thinking unconscious. (It's a meditation trick... perhaps now I'll have more time to develop it!)

Italy keeps popping up on the radar. Never been. A soul mate met in London has offered a bed... she lives in, you guessed it, small town Italy. LOL.Wouldn't mind the crash course in fashion! Would love to see the history. I have no idea how I'd earn a living, but I'd enjoy learning Italian. Please please please let my passport go through without a hitch!

Wales might be an option. I have an academia friend from ... you guessed it ... small town Wales who might be able to get me a research or teaching job there. The campus is beach-side... Of course, he doesn't know about my transition, and that might be a hurdle.

There's always Vegas. Poker is an option. Plus, I could meet someone, or make an opportunity there. And, if poker fails me, Vegas would be a good city to make a living as a transsexual escort. Of course, for that, my breasts might need to grow a bit more first.

I'm also trying to get a job teaching, but 3 weeks is not a lot of time to find a job, and with no permanent address...

Finally, I swear I connected with the mind of one who once told me he'd be there for me if ever I needed him. Spooky. On the one hand, he's hurt me before. On the other, I can't imagine anyone better to help medicate myself though this crisis... I've not had fun like I've had with him, and I sure could do with some laughs.

Summary:

• Italy/? - Life unscripted, 100% new experiences, old flames
  
• Wales/Research - Life re-attempted
  
• Vegas/Poker/Escort - Life unscripted, w/no net, but familiar
  
• ?/Teaching - Life resumed
  
• D/Party - Life enjoyed, contemplated
  

Sigh. More mediation required. Maybe one more day... no one's knocking down my door to do stuff anyway.

ToDone List

Some people keep a ToDo list to remind them of tasks and chores that need completing. Most of these people derive satisfaction from marking out completed items from that list. Some people even take list making to the extremes and create a ToDo list for every aspect of their lives. I'm one of those people.

I've had the above list on my ToDo list for nearly four years now; everything hinged on the psychological barrier of realizing who I am and finding the confidence to be her. Everything else after that hinged on the name change.

I've come to realize that making lists is a great way to overcome stagnation in one's life. Often times there is so much that needs doing, yet we feel overwhelmed or worse, disinterested. My experience has shown that when this happens, there's usually one unfinished task that is holding up the start of all the others. Finishing that one task usually results in a tidal wave of new task completions.

So yeah, the flood gates are open... both a new social security card and a new passport were applied for today. Now all that's left is the waiting. The day my new passport comes, I'll create a new bank account in my new name, and then finally, the company, and then I'll be able to remove one list on my global ToDo list that has been over four years in the making... won't that feel good!

The Personal Relocation Expert

Of course the follow up dialog goes:

Man: But that's enough about my penis.
(pause)
Man: What do you think of my penis?

I'm not sure I understand boys. This is to be expected, as I didn't understand them when I was one, but experiencing them as female is ... I don't know what word fits. Maybe you can help?

So like, I spent all night packing and stuff and now it's 3am and I'm outside enjoying a well-deserved cigarette (as you do). Until just recently, it's been way too cold to even want to be outside at this time at night, but the past few nights have been nice, so I'm continuing my long-standing tradition of enjoying the night.

Now I'm just minding my own business when along comes a tall, young man walking home from the bar down the street. (All the bars are down the street.) He walks by and says, "Damn, girl, you look guud!" and asks if I own the shop connected to the alcove I'm standing in. He's cute, strong build too. I start to fumble for words then quickly recover, reasoning that nearly 50 people live in the building beside me, so anonymity is on my side. "I live here."

He then proceeds to tell me that he thinks he lives in a poor side of town (again, just down the road) but it wasn't long before I understand what he really means... he's racist! Before I can come to this conclusion, however, he notices my feet. Oh my, you have long toes! I may be green, but I can see where this is going... second man this week to talk about my toes. He tells me about this girl who can eat with her feet (mental note, get a pedicure) and next about his old girlfriend. Okay, let's have some fun... "So you like footjobs, huh?" I throw out playfully. Caught him off guard! Heehee.

I don't really know how what happened next came into motion, but he then started telling me his life story, focusing totally on the parts involving altercations with the police. First, he wires up a property owner with free cable to all the tenants. The owner pays him $50, but acts like he doesn't know this guy when he comes around next month asking for $10 from each tenant, who are now being charged an extra $20/month for cable. After a few weeks of ignoring the guy, he gets pissed and started banging on the door kind of stuff, and the police pick him up for aggravated something or other.

Next he tells me that while on probation, he's walking past a pimp in Birmingham when police swarm down on him and he gets arrested for public intoxication... gets house arrest but then gets all mouthy when a cop plants drug paraphernalia on him, so now he gets slapped a charge for intimidating a police officer!

Bizarre. I just met this man. I ask if he's still wearing the leg collar, he laughs, hikes up his pant leg and says, "no- that's finally off" (OMG, he was wearing one!) when, what was that I saw? Yup, that was a knife tucked to his ankle!

His story continues... Next he's walking home and gets mugged by four (N-bomb... yeah, he used that word on me freely) people and the police find on him - go figure - some pot so now he's in violation of parole and gets sentenced to a year in county jail when he pleas that "maybe I have a drinking problem, your honor!" Nice save. More house arrest.

And now he's here. An armed young man with anger issues. He says he's just newly arrived. He's looking to get high. Most boys like him are. Knowing Dave taught me how to take care of boys like this, and if he didn't just come from a bar I know to be smoky and - oh yeah - totally creep me out, I'd have asked him up to share a joint. Instead, he offers another cigarette and tells me of a time in sixth grade where he both got beat up and beat up a girl. Charming!

Sensing he's not going to see me again unless something changes, he offers up that he's a personal relocation expert. Ah, a mover... big strong man come help move my stuff! Okay, there's an in! But before I can say anything, he starts to tell me how he recently hurt his shoulder moving a mattress. (Mental note, get help moving the mattress.) He touches my hand to his shoulder and asks me to feel his rotator cuff. There's a sense of urgency in his action, as if he knows that I'm a healer, and that I wouldn't otherwise be touching him. After our conversation, he's probably right. I touch him anyway. Maybe I healed him... who can know such things?

I did, however, know that I was freezing. A fresh blanket of cold, heavy air swept under the wind as we were talking. I introduce myself. He gives me his name and phone number... I rememberize it and guide him home in the right direction, waiting until he turned the corner before going to my door.

What just happened? Why did he tell me all of that personal stuff? What larger forces are at work here? Can it all really be explained away by alcohol? Ah, does it matter? Queue Flower Drum Song!

Keeping Score

Maslow's chart shows the priority of needs for humans. The higher needs in this hierarchy only come into focus when the lower needs in the pyramid are satisfied. Thus, whatever problems you think you have in life, if water suddenly is gone, finding water will dominate your thoughts.

So how are we doing?

• Psysiological: I think we've finally got this level covered!
• Safety: rut-roah, needs some work. No job, no home, no resources. Ouch!
• Love/Belonging: isolated from family, craves touch, friends try to understand. Need work here too.
• Esteem: not too bad here, considering. There's something to be said for achievement!
• Self-actualization: looking good!

Ironic the top and bottom are the ones most developed. Am I just a shell of a person? Am I unlovable?

Well, we'll deal with the safety issues first, and then work on the love/belonging. Probably easier to get friends with a job, house, and money than without anyway.