i think im like a lot of people, in that i have a discussion/argument/whatever with someone, and i dont realize until the next day what a total asshat i was being. 

this happened to me while i was at the gym today.  last night i had a discussion with the Australian about how i sometimes feel alone in our relationship (the asshattery begins here, obvs) because i am more open with my feelings about him.  i suppose my whole point was to get to a place where i could ask him how he feels about me and whether or not he will be dating someone else when i come to visit him, but the whole thing devolved quite quickly because apparently i cant formulate a question without hurting someone's feelings or making them think i am craycray.  last night i appear to have accomplished both negative outcomes.  huzzah.

flash forward to today.  so im in the gym, and all of a sudden, it dawns on me: we both have fears about me coming to visit and about our relationship, but they stem from different places.  he is afraid of getting too close to me and upon finding that he wants to spend more time with me, cannot, because i live a billion miles away.  i on the other hand, am not afraid of the pain of the long distance relationship.  i am more afraid of discovering that we do NOT have this intense, sensitive connection that i thought we did, and that i have just been deluding myself for a year. 

To You:  i say im sorry for trying to sometimes make this relationship (and you) something that it (you) are not.  i realize that i recently had to apologize for this same fault not too long ago, and again, im sorry.  i often overthink things without considering your perspective; without realizing that you are perfect just the way you are and that our relationship is what it is, and i really do love it.

so then i must wonder, as i did so many months ago, what is love?  in my opinion true love requires a mutuality of feelings and when it is only one-way, it becomes an obsession.  it's one of those feelings that will devolve into nothing but a pile of words and connective sludge if you analyze it too much.  you can never be in love if you are constantly questioning it, because part of love is indeed falling and in a way, losing you hold on reality.  yet this can never happen if you ask too many questions. 

to be in love means that you have shared secrets: embarrassing parts of yourself, shameful parts of yourself, smelly, broken, disfigured parts of yourself with another person.  you have shared time, feelings, and still wish to spend copious amounts of your short existence with them.

then again, what do i know?  its just one bitch's opinion.

 i am frustrated with my dating life.  suffice it to say that the last two men i dated disappeared suddenly, and the one man that i really want lives in australia and is completely emotionally crippled, which makes him irresistible to me.  natch.  and lets just say that i would seem to be the perfect woman for him because we live 8000 miles away, making a potential relationship impossible.  plus he has never been in love despite being in multiple long-term relationships. 

so why the fuck am i still talking to him and allowing our NZ-turned-skype relationship to rent space in my head?  probably because he is sweet and damaged and inquisitive and intellectual in ways different than myself, and has cloyingly blue eyes (to quote elizabeth wurtzel) that make me want to rip his clothes off and ride his KTM900 into the night.

ugh.

do not mistake me for a complete fool, though.  i am the last person in the world to believe that a man in his 30s who has never been in love, would magically happen to love me of all people.  i am also the last woman on earth to believe that a man who has been emotionally and/or physically unfaithful to every woman he has ever dated would somehow- magically, again- be faithful to her.  let alone from 8000 miles away.

all this begs the question, why do i attract men that seem to subconsciously use me as a surrogate for whatever psychodrama needs to be played out in their lives?  i hate feeling used like this.  it feels so disconcertingly familiar, probably because its happened so many times to me before.  in other words, im like all of my ex's mothers.  double ugh.

where does this leave me?  preferably quitting this pity party and hitting the gym more often.  its not that i dont work out often enough, its just that i definitely need to channel these self-destructive impulses that i keep having in a constructive way.  clearly destroying myself emotionally isnt going to be helpful.

and you can be certain that i will be destroying myself emotionally, because as much as i know that it would be a terrible move to continue these things with the aussie, i just cant forfeit the feelings i have for him. 

this makes me an idiot.  what promises to be an emotionally intimate, loving, sexually-evolved affair on my end, will end up being a fling on his end.  tis the story of my life.


sorry about that.  pity party: complete.

well i guess its on to new things.  the next new friend.  the next new hobby.  the next disaster or success. 
speaking of which, i was at the bike shop today and met this man that i had no idea i was looking for. 

i have been drowing in information on the internet about how to more effectively ride a bike for long distance and how to eat/train/etc.  this guy at the store is extremely knowledgeable about cycling, cycling theory, ways of maximizing your energy potential, and human anatomy.  im telling you, he knew the answer to every question i had.  i wanted to shrink him down to pocket-size and take him on all my training rides.  not to mention he used to do the ride that i am training for just for funzies. 

good lord i felt like such a noob, but oddly in a good way.  again, life is funny when it gives you exactly what you need just when you need it like that.

perhaps life is just odd in general.

so i know all of you must be wondering what i have been up to since i got home.  the answer is: everything.  i was home just a few days when my grandfather went into the hospital so i had to fly out to michigan for a few days.  clearly i have not been sleeping what with being in several vastly different time zones in the last few weeks.  hopefully i can make this happen soon. 

in the meantime though- including today- i have been going on looooong rides on my new road bike.

i love this thing.  it is my new Precious. these guys at cyclewerks in costa mesa hooked me up with a used $3200 bike for just $700.  i know what youre thinking, and the answer is no, im just that charming!

ive been working out as much as i can trying to get in shape for the AIDS/LifeCycle because lord knows im not strong enough to do it all right now.  its about 600mi long and i think im gonna kill myself tryig to finish, but it is for a good cause, and im stubborn, and im way too ambitious.  plus im doing it with one of my besties in whole world.  shes way more in shape than me and way more awesome than me, so that keeps me going.

i think we should start a biker gang.  i mean, her BF is a biker and we just went to a legit biker motorcycle- biker bar during our workout today, so that gives us street cred right? 

either way, im so friggin stoked to get back into shape.  i missed the feeling of bodily strength.  that feeling seems to infiltrate other areas of my life once i acquire it.  i must have it back!  (read in the voice of keanu reeves or something). 

training on the road is a whole different experience than i thought it would be, much like many of my endeavours. the smells and sounds are so much more intense than when youre driving in a car or walking along the road.  the cars whizzing by, the crazies (like that woman who walks around with a towel folded into a turban on her head along the freeway) that you pass every time you run a particular route, the pain of riding on a seat with no padding for hours on end; its all part of the experience.  i love it all.   

a crazy kiwi i once met had the same experience as he traveled around his home country on a motorbike.  i never thought that he and i would have something in common.  he was fucking nuts and lets leave it at that.

ah well, its back to the old grind here at the Bar.

ttfn.

my last night in bali and of course in kuta was ridiculous.  i started off by arriving in kuta slightly carsick with the two dutch kids and 3 english kids.  we promptly lost each other in the madhouse of poppie's gang 1&2 but reconnected some hours later at the previously agreed-upon hotel. 

after some much-needed food and swimming in the hotel pool, it was off to the liquor store with a canadian man that we had met poolside.  (backpackers and travelers just seem to glom on to each other in really fun ways.)  he told nilou and i about some party at a surf shop and asked us to join him before meeting up with the others at some rancid club.  natch, we agreed.

so we hustled off down the streets on the back of their motorbikes to a building that was a restaurant-turned-surf shop-turned bar (kinda) with a tattoo parlor upstairs.  nilou, myself, jj, and his friend mosh arrived to the sight of a grip of tattooed indonesians and one busty aussie smoking, drinking, tattooing, playing video games, and jamming to sumatran love songs mixed with american favorites on a guitar and bongos.

i had the best time.  i sat there watching the whole scene unfold and thought to myself, "this is the kind of experience i have been looking for in bali."  by that i mean i was wanting to find some balinese people and talk, like really talk with them. 

naturally i was thinking about getting a new tattoo because, well, it was super convenient.  decided against it after seeing what a heavy hand the tattooer had.  F that.

after some drinks the 4 of us ambled down the street to the night food market down some unseen alley.  probably the most authentic and adventurous food i have eaten.  loved it.  wish i had figured it out sooner.  isnt it always true that you figure your shit out just before its time to leave on a new adventure?  the fresh mango juice that i spiked was also uncommonly good. 

after some more partying back at the shop, we made our way to the clubs to see our friends and meet up with some more of the locals' friends.  spent the rest of the night dancing, singing american rock and roll with an awesome band, lying on the beach, skinny dipping in the hotel pool at 4am, and finally getting into bed around 5am. 

true to form i woke up at 730am, and couldnt go back to sleep because i was so excited to come home.  instead, i opted for a motorbike ride and hike through mud up to my ankles out to jimbaran point with the canadian at 9.  hours later we finally got back to the hotel, covered in mud from literally head to toe, hungover, and attracting gawking stares from the hotel staff and our friends.  im surprised we both came back with shoes intact.  no matter.  i managed to roust the hungover comrades enough so that they could check out and sit with us in the hotel restaurant and alternately puke and generally destroy the bathroom there.  photos to come.  truly hilarious.

now im running on about 2 hours of sleep and standing at a computer station in taipei waiting for my 10-hour flight back to LA where ill arrive at about the same time and on the same date as today.  i know, its weird.

so, so glad that i was able to relax enough to truly enjoy myself and very happy that i spent my last week with the people i did.  they are amazeballs, but it is nice to be back in a country that values orderly processession and efficiency.  bali was for me a lesson in patience, futility, culture, and finding my own ability to slow down... all under the cover of lotus-scented incense.

ah!  i must away to my plane.  have fun, be safe, and ill see you all very soon.

scattered showers here on my 4th day in uluwatu.  i totally dig it here.  its full of surfers and backpackers and crazy people.  the first two days i was here, i partied with two dutch teenagers and a hungarian woman.  we took motorbike rides all day in the monsoon rains all over the island and laid out on the beach getting awesomely burned.  yesterday we again hit the beach all day; cruising from place to place on the bikes and enjoying the shit out of the sun finally.  then last night the hungarian left and we picked up an italian, and we all went to have beers on the water and take part in what eventually morphed into a late-night bob marley's birthday moshing.  madness.  the two singers were fucking crazy and we had such a blast with all the shoeless tourists and tanned and blonde surfers and of course the stereotypical locals who showed up and raged with everything they had.  rock on.

i eventually got sick of the reggae, so the dutchman and i went home to find some englishmen to play card games like bullshit and shit and pool with until the wee hours of the morning.  the italian, being his characteristically all-too-forward italian self, asked me to promise to keep my door unlocked for him, so naturally i set the deadbolt and the doorchain when i went to sleep.  oh italians.

i woke up feeling quite refreshed because ive been on antibiotics and happily choosing not to drink on them after an unfortunate incident yesterday morning.  it was rather fabulous slowly watching the drunkenness creep over everybody last night.  actually, thats probably why i left the party before midnight.  haha oh well.

well its time for breakfast and a prayer to the universe that this plane ticket on an airline no one has ever heard of is actually real and not standing-room only.  and i think ill actually go see the traditional balinese dance at the temple tonight if its not raining.  its one of those things i have to do before i leave.

with that, i leave!

I think if I were staying away longer, I would not be so homesick and excited to get back. But as it stands I am so friggin stoked to come home and start my life again. I miss you all. I miss creature comforts like being able to brush your teeth in the shower and ordering a salad without having to simultaneously gamble with your life, or having to put on bug repellant to go to sleep, or whatever. But I also like have no responsibilities. No deadlines excePt for plane flights. Nothing mandatory. No commitments. No work. No ringing phone. Wait. I kinda like the phones and the commitment. Well you know what I mean. Anyway Uluwatu is full of surfers and home stays. Perf. I'll be here for a bit, thanks.