more

we finished, finally. the car now smells of cash and not marijuana. well, that's not entirely true. it still smells of weed...but now its in the front and its smoke and its falling from our smiling mouths.
we're headed north now. hopefully not farther than san fransisco but possibly as far as humboldt.
i love road trips but i hate driving. i have to drive the first leg. osiris is exhausted from the last week. he takes his exhaustion out on me in the form of picking me apart. sometimes i feel like i can do no right in his eyes...he loses his sunglasses and somehow its my fault, he smokes too many cigarettes and, somehow, its my fault. we can't find a place of peace right now. everything he does irritates me, everything i do makes him yell.
i'm miserable in this car right now. i want jason mraz or jack johnson or gregory alan isakov or ozomatli. he wants bassnectar or STS9. i want to talk, to hold hands, to reconnect. he wants to get high.
he brought me a sunflower today. i think it was a peace offering. it worked- sunflowers always work. i have a weakness for sunflowers, music and wine.
he sleeps in the passenger seat. unable to socialize after smoking his hash laden bubba kush.
bono sings to me of romance and love. i kissed bono once- i was 20. he's shorter than me but, somehow, so giant.
where is my romance and love, bono? why is this so difficult?
i want to be excited about this trip. i want to enjoy this adventure to see and to taste and to experience a world i don't know.
if you ask me what i want from life..my answer will be simply "more". if you ask me how much money i want, how much love, how much passion, how much time...my answer is "more". not because i'm greedy but, because i think more is always possible and worth striving for.
we are not achieving more right now.
we- orsiris and i- and also "we" ...the collective "we". we are all settling for less.

out with the paints, in with the clones

i have a half brother, picadali. picadali is an artist. he uses oil paints to create images that make you wonder if there's a parallel reality in his studio that you might be missing out on. blues and greens and browns dance across his canvas like music infused branches and waves.
picadali lives in hollywood with his wife, nano and two of the ugliest dogs you've ever seen.
we weren't planning to tell them the truth about what osiris does- about what WE do. we weren't going to tell them that the car parked in their driveway was filled with weed or that "going to see LA" really means "going to sell weed to LA". we weren't going to tell them that when we say osiris is in sales we mean sales.
at least, i thought that was the plan.
then yesterday, as i undressed for a shower, i heard them in the next room. osiris saying "would you like to see my samples"....my brother saying something about his studio...something about lights....
oh crap. here we go. osiris is working his magic and trying to bring them on board. trying to materialize a family operation.
in the shower i contemplate this life. this man. this world i'm glimpsing. this is not me. i know that at the core of my belly but, still, i cant walk away. i'm intrigued and excited. he holds a passion and intensity that i can't recover or walk away from. i cant walk away because i chose him. i chose this. i left what i had for this- i need to try, i need to try harder.
i walk into the living room and they all turn and look at me. they all have guilty grins, like they just ate the cookie dough or something.
being an artist in hollywood is not easy. picadali and nano are considering starting a grow room. very strongly considering. it turns out they've been considering it for a while but they didn't know how to start. "how to start" just happens to be sitting on their couch.
picadali and osiris spent the morning in heated discussion. does the grow room go in the studio or in the spare bedroom? there is ventilation and light to consider...paint fumes, landlords...incriminating aromas...
we got a late start on the day for sales. we left picadali and nano to discuss the business propositions.
i'm developing a system for tracking dispensaries- plotting maps and developing a database. i spend most of my time in the car or coffee shops.
we sold half of what we had left today. its a crazy experience, watching weed turn into cash.

proud to be a what?

sitting on a bench overlooking the marina del rey pier. the fireworks just ended. we sat in the grass eating cheap burritos and drinking $2 beer from ralph's out of a nalgene bottle. the dj played what seemed to be an anthology to every terrible patriotic country song ever produced.
the grass is littered with red plastic cups, beer bottles and fast food to-go bags. the words "i'm proud to be an america" vibrate through my brain. am i? am i really?
i'm sitting in a beautiful park littered by proud americans, im driving around a dirty city, selling weed that might be legal and might not to non americans for proud americans, proud americans are starving and struggling to buy prescriptions, proud americans are stealing and lying and killing, proud american are divorcing and binging.
i'm sad to be an american. i'm sad that we are in our own capitalism gutter.
today was a rough day. we couldn't make any sales. not making sales for osiris is emotionally similar to losing the super bowl for john elway. at the end of the day, you wouldn't want to be around either one.
unfortunately for me, i am around at the end of the day.
i don't think i've ever explained to you the hard place i'm in.
i fell in love with osiris 5 months ago. i was dating phoenix. i was in love with phoenix.
phoenix is a rich entrepreneur.
osiris is a poor drug dealer.
now i'm in love with a rich man and a poor man.
neither will give up and i can't give up on either one

breaking bad

before i begin i need to address a few questions i've been asked-
-yes, there is a 1-3 day delay on my postings and, yes, all names have been changed to protect those i love- i suppose the reasons should be obvious.

so, july 3rd.
have you seen "breaking bad"? if you haven't, you need to. last night cz, osiris and i laid in bed all night and watched the entire first season. that's 6 hours of crystal meth drama.
i'm breaking bad.
i'm not cooking meth or dying of lung cancer. but, i am pushing the boundaries of my own definitions of "bad".
if you know what that means...good for you...you're not entangled in the white picket fence. if you have no idea what it means to break bad or to push your own boundaries, i suggest you find a way to figure it out.

we're heading north today. long beach, orange county, and LA.
i'm in shock over the insane number of dispensaries. check this out-
http://canorml.org/prop/cbclist.html
my job is to sift through the massive lists and organize an effective driving route. if i had my way, i would have this all organized in a database by neighborhood, i would log contacts and their buying histories. i'm working toward that- its not easy when my business partner is always high and flipping out over some minute obstacle.

osiris spent the day running in and out of dispensaries between long beach and LA. i spent most of my day in the car with fonda. i don't have my medical marijuana card so, while osiris runs into the dispensaries, we wait in the car. why do dispensaries all seem to be in the ghetto or sketchy run down strip malls? fonda is osiris's dog but i'm madly in love with her so i pretend she's mine. fonda is a white pit bull. she has three endearing trademarks- a light brown patch over her right eye, a heart shaped brown mark on her booty, and an under bite that makes you love her from minute one. she loves hanging out in the car, which is good, because we did a lot of that today.

by evening osiris was beyond frustrated, he was raging pissed. pissed at johnny rocket for fucking up, pissed at every dispensary for not having any money to give him today, pissed at me for no good reason, pissed at himself for having no clean underwear, pissed at god for creating capitalism...just fucking pissed.

as we watched the sunset on the santa monica pier, the taste of sativa fresh on our tongues, i looked at osiris and wondered about everything:

maybe i should leave him at the end of this journey, maybe i should leave him now, maybe i should marry him, maybe i should slap him.

do you think love is the universe's favorite personal stand up comedy?

1 pound down 3 to go...

i woke up in a motel 6 in hotel circle this morning. osiris was next to me, his shoes still on. he always leaves his shoes on when he goes to bed mad at me. i stared at the popcorn ceiling and created images of faces and dragons in the shadows of the paint. i tried to remember what had happened last night.
cakes and i started drinking margaritas in pacific beach. we bar hopped our way through happy hour and landed in her living room with osiris, fonda and a bunch of 21 year-old beach girls. i remember wondering if osiris was in heaven or hell. cakes broke out the house bong and osiris loaded it up with some of his "high grade medicinal cannabis". the air was heavy with smoke and giggles. cakes started texting chief, my ex boyfriend from high school who has somehow weaseled his way into my life again.
sometime after i told osiris i wanted to have sex on the beach but before the tequila shots, we all ended up at moondoggies. cakes and the sorority girls, osiris, me and chief. rum and coke, tequila, and jager...began appearing and disappearing in front of us.
chief sent me a text. he was standing less than arms length from me and he opted to text. osiris looked at my phone, saw his name, looked across the table, saw his face and, needless to say, we left.
for a man who believes in open relationships, a man who says marriage is a sham and nothing is commitable, osiris maintains a healthy sense of jealousy. for sure.

we both woke this morning, at motel 6, with a sense of purpose and productivity.
initially, our purposes were not aligned.
i woke with the purpose of making osiris orgasm- sometimes he has a hard time. i think its because he was such a whore for so long he lost interest. he says it started about 2 years ago. he is currently batting about a 50% average with me- maybe a little better. i want at least 90%. this morning i was determined to get what i wanted.
it turns out, this morning, it wasn't hard to get what i wanted. a little left over aggression from last night, pulling, sucking, moaning, tugging and blam- batting 100% for the day.
osiris woke with the purpose of unloading the four pounds of weed in our trunk so we can head north for some more.
captain zulu called. he said he has a friend who wants to meet us for lunch.
we met cz and skolnick at a bagel shop by the beach. his friend, skolnick, looked like a character from the movie "revenge of the nerds".
i set up my computer in the back corner table as they discussed business and the possibility of partnerships. eventually they all disappeared to skolnick's house.
i stayed in the bagel shop. sometimes i like to be alone.
2 hours later, osiris came swaggering back. i could tell by his grin that 2 things had happened:
1. he was fucking blazed
2. he had more cash in his pocket and less weed in the car

adult content

at what point does content become "adult content"? i noticed today that there is an option to put an "adult content" warning on my blog. if i woke up in a bed drenched in sex between two men does that qualify as adult content? or, does it only become adult content if i explain in explicit detail how each drop of sweat and cum found its way to my body?
cz went to work this morning. osiris and i stayed in his bed until noon. then, we put our clothes on and fought until 1. osiris always thinks i'm questioning our relationship.he's right. but, i always tell him he's wrong. how could i not question?
once upon a time i was stable and average and normal and miserable. i was a nurse. i scrap booked and baked and had vases of flowers pulled from my garden. i folded laundry and went to dinner parties. i put on dresses and went to political conventions. i wore cotton underwear.
not now.
of course i question.
and, he feels that and yells at me. i'm not leaving osiris. not now. not until i suck everything i can from this foolish journey.
i'm drinking margaritas with my nanny, cakes. well, she used to be my nanny. in a few hours we'll be obliterated.
cakes is your average gorgeous socal college girl. blond, boobs, ass. she just turned 21 two months ago and is now full fledgling alcoholic.
her frat boy conservative boyfriend has got to go. maybe ill see if captain zulu can sweep her off her feet...

a fool's journey

in tarot, "the fool" is card zero. the fool is the beginning. he is embarking on a journey, an adventure, heading into the unknown.
today is the beginning of my fool's journey.
it's tuesday. i moved out of my house today. johnny rocket just got back from a run up north. a few hours ago the boys were inspecting the results of his trip. the inspection was cut short when my landlord showed up. my landlord happened to be a police officer. i don't think he'd be too excited to see 5 pounds of weed spread out all over his garage floor- even if it was really beautiful weed. which this time, according to osiris, it is not.
before i go any further, i should clarify a few things:
1. until 5 months ago, i hadn't been high more than once a year for at least the last 9 years. prior to that i was never more than a casual pot smoker. i never owned a pipe, never bought an ounce, never even saw a plant.
2. until 5 months ago, words like purple, bubbler, humboldt, dispensary and blaze had never been a part of my normal everyday conversation. and, my lips had never before tasted words like kush , hash and shake.
3. i met osiris exactly 5 months ago. i fell in love with osiris exactly 5 months ago. osiris makes a living, in a variety of ways, from a plant known as marijuana.
4. i am currently in an anomalous point in my life- jobless, homeless and car less. my two daughters are living with their father for the summer. so, right now, i'm osiris's "office manager", side kick, confidant and sex goddess.
after we turned in the keys to the cop, we loaded up the car and the 3 of us,
"osiris"- the scorpion
"fonda"- the white pit bull and
"moana"- the pisces (aka me)
drove to johnny rockets to fill our empty suitcases with mediocre humboldt weed.
as i type this, sitting on j. rocket's couch, the boys sit on the deck separating shake and cursing the bad purchase. j.rocket's wife sits with me and we discuss the importance of dreams and intention, we question our own desires and build castles in the sky filled with riches, love, gardens and white wine. we can hear the breathing of their sleeping baby through the monitor on the table.
a few months ago, j. rocket was working as an engineer for sony. making a living but barely enough to enjoy the life. he got laid off and decided to go back to work for his old boss- the one he left years ago when his wife told him she wanted a "normal life". back to working for weed.
what is a normal life anyway?
miserable monotony? debt imprisonment? societal judgement? are these what we've chosen to deem normal?
i don't know where we'll sleep tonight.
captain zulu said we could come sleep in his bed. captain zulu is osiris's balancing force. when osiris is chaotic, cz is pulling out a yoga mat. osiris says fuck and cz says please. to stand between cz and osiris is to stand in the neverland between heaven and earth. cz wants business plans and lawyer consultations. osiris wants more turkey bags, high priced cigarettes and a new bong.
we're going to cz's house so i can lay between heaven and earth.
this is about to get interesting.
lucky me.