The Mall

I no longer see things as things..

I no longer walk through a shopping mall and see a jewelry store,

rather I see explosions in mountains, snails dying, people ingesting toxic fumes, sediment in streams and rivers, fish populations diminishing.

I no longer see clothing stores as places that offer me a chance to have a different look,

but rather, fields of cotton being sprayed by five times the amount of pesticide necessary, and pesticides seeping deep into the watersheds, increasing cancer rates, while the same people who "walk for the cure" where a shirt that was made using pesticides.

I no longer see a brand name as a brand of wealth, but rather,

I see it as a brand of oppression, a brand of slave ownership, a brand of exploitation of labor and natural resources.

I no longer see a mall as a mall really... But rather...

Unfortunately,

many destructive things.

I see it in it's raw form.

I feel like Im walking through the entire world, touching a well sewn shirt that was made in Bangladesh, a leather purse that used to be a cow grazing in Argentina's Cowboy fields of the Americas. I'm walking through stories, not stores. I pick up a Nike shirt and worry about the ten year old who worked a 14 hour shift with one 5 minute pee break. Was she squeezing her legs so she didn't pee her pants while she was sewing this specific running shirt I'm feeling with my hand? I even wonder about which tree sacrificed its life so I can use it's body as a coffee cup to write these observations that are floating through my head.

A makeup artist from Chanel gives me an apologetic "Yes we actually do test on animals, I just found out!" followed up with a lovely "But we do donate to breast cancer." I give her an inquisitive "But what ingredients are in your makeup?" to which she replies "you can read them on the back of the box."

Hmm.... " I think its interesting that a makeup company who uses lead in their products that are applied directly to the face are donating to cancer."

Try it sometime. Go to the mall.

This time, see the items for what they once were, where they came from. It's difficult to want more after doing that simple exercise.

Rumi

“If you are irritated by every rub, how will you be polished?”- Rumi

So I ran to work today and meanwhile, I was thinking about that quote. Of course! The more you run, the better sculpted you will be. You apply what relates to you at that moment, so I of course thought about that while I was running since I was out of breath and didn't want to anymore. But you can apply that to anything. If we are constantly annoyed by everything, then perhaps we are just too sensitive. Perhaps we need to withstand a bit more and in doing so, gain a bit of wisdom out of each experience. I think the key though is self awareness. If we practice sort of hovering over ourselves and seeing what we might look like as an audience watching an actor or actress, I think it would help us gain perspective for each and every situation.

Rumi was one smart cookie.

Dear Police Officer

This is what I wrote before I remembered how thankful I am. (see p.s. section which was the afterthought of the letter.)

I hate you. I hate you so much. I wrote all these bad things I wish to happen to you but then I deleted them because I'm not like that. I don't really wish for you to get prostate cancer or for your favorite dog to die. Neither do I wish for you to go blind in both eyes or for you to get shot in the arm. That would be blowing this whole thing out of proportion.

So why do I hate you so much? It's not because you pulled me over for wearing the seatbelt under my armpit instead of over my shoulder. ( I was mad at first about that but then I was trying to be positive about it, thinking, hey, this could actually save my life if I do get in a horrible car accident. ITs pretty unsafe to wear it this way. Never thought of that before)

I'm not even mad at you because the ticket is going to cost me $160.

I'm mad at you because you lied to me.

You bastard.

I'm angry because you told me that it was a little ticket, that it doesn't even count on your driving record. You told me that its just an IMPROPER USE of a seatbelt ticket.

What I got was a $160 ticket, with the option of Traffic School and the citation of NOT WEARING A SEATBELT.

You are a liar. I recall back to when you pulled me over. I laughed because I thought it wasn't even possible to get a ticket for that. I had no idea that I was even wearing it wrong this whole time. You said, trying to play God, "Hmm... Not sure If I wanna give you a ticket yet or not. Im thinking about it."

Then I said, "Come on, seriously, I had no idea I was wearing it wrong."

Then you said, "Well this is how you learn."

Then I said "Or this is the type of ticket you give in a bad economy."

(NOTE TO SELF - REFRAIN FROM SARCASM WITH POLICE OFFICERS)

Then I thought but didn't say "Irvine. Nothing better to do. What a waste of tax money"

NOW HERE I AM WITH THIS TICKET.. You incriminated me. I always wear my seatbelt!

I scheduled a court appearance but according to the new law, you don't even have to show up. This is a police state.

You know what's funny? I still don't really wish anything bad on you. My initial reaction is to wish all these horrible things on you but when I really think about them, I realize that they are stupid and no human being deserves revenge. God is just and so is karma, whatever you believe in. I'm only harming myself. By hating you, I am only hating myself because I am causing stress and damaging my spirit. Anger is just a bad thing for me and for this universe. I just wish peace upon you. I hope that your heart is filled with honor and that your eyes are re-calibrated towards seeing justice for what it really is. I hope you remember why you wanted to be a Police Officer in the first place.

Roommate says its because of the tight comfy pants.

Please don't hesitate to call me if you ever want to discuss these ideas.

With bittersweet love,

Your armpit seatbelt wearer.

p.s: I just remembered something important.

This whole situation could be much worse and Im thankful that it's not. I'm not the person who got killed in the car accident on the 55 fwy yesterday. Im pretty sure that the family of that person would wish that they were in the "improper seatbelt" situation and not in that one.

So it all comes back to being Thankful. I'm not mad anymore. I just re-calibrated myself.

Coffee Shop People: Part II

So what qualifies a person as a coffee shop character? Well my sister decided that if she comes to my coffee shop 10 days in a row, she deserves to be a character. I told her that was illegal. I can't write about somebody who comes in with me and sits besides me, because I can't observe them. Plus, my background knowledge of her will get in the way of a fresh, clean, observation. She was pretty impressed with my description of Quick Sketch Artist Dude. We happened to be in there together when he walked in through the door. I told her to quickly read his description, and as she did, she was narrating, in real time, everything he was doing. It felt really good to be accurate. So, as promised, here is Part II. There will probably be part III too.

Right side of couch woman Dancer

This woman has invited me to dance with her on several occasions. She can often be seen sitting next to Left side of the couch dude. She looks artsy and is around at 10 am or so. Since I happened to be sitting on the couch when I met her, my observations are not as strong as if I was watching her from another spot. Nice lady though. She looks like the kinda lady you would meet a yoga studio that is in her 50s and wears dark rimmed glasses.

Spanish Sculptor Artist Philosopher

Spanish Sculptor Artist Philisopher, AKA, Dragon man sits with his homeboys around 7 am. Let me just say that the 7am upper-terrace crowd is quite different than the 8 am upper terrace crowd. The 7 am crowd seems to be a bit more republican. Don't ask me why. Well Sculptor man sits with them because he gets along with with anyone quite well, not because he shares their same world views, but because he is worldly himself, and worldly people relate to the human spirit as appose to latching on to the title or viewpoint of a person. I first met Spanish Sculptor man in the parking lot. I ran up to him and asked him what on earth was in the bed of his truck, a GIANT DRAGON sculpture made of bronze, silver, and steel. The dragon was wearing a robe and was crushing a sphere. It was by far the most beautiful sculpture I had ever laid my eyes upon. The background story behind the dragon was philosophical, as are all of his pieces. Good art is designed to teach and engrave those teachings into our hearts. His does that. Well, the artist told me he was displaying it there today. I was excited about it but was never able to make it back in that day. Then, I came to realize later on that he was the same man who spent his mornings in upper terrace seating. He is not really Spanish.. he just has Spain Ancestry. He is currently working on a huge Rising of the Phoenix piece. He is also a hairdresser and makeup artist. His face lights up with joy when he talks about or works on his sculptures and its quite contagious. He reminds me of one of my favorite quotes: "Don't ask yourself what you can do to change the world, ask yourself what makes you come alive and go do that, because what the world need is people who have come alive."

Upper Terrace Community Blogger Paddleboarder Man

Hmm... Paddleboarder Man is many things. He is specific to his upper terrace middle spot and will wait for it to open so he can move to it, because he swears that the lighting is the best. I like to believe that he likes to be the heart of the coffeeshop, and that middle spot acts as the heart. Like a human heart, he pumps life into the coffee shop, quick to introduce people to others, and on guard to ensure that the "community" aspect and feel of the coffee shop is not lost to the black abyss of Orange County. He wears a scarf around his neck and a beanie and although he's in his 40's, he looks like he's 30. The first time I met him was when he came to my talk on South America. I then saw him the next day at my coffee shop surrounded by women. He waved me over to come and meet everyone, because that's just how he rolls. Besides the fact that some might describe him as charming, in a George Clooney surfer kind of way, It's probably because he's a deep thinker, and women like that sort of thing. He is the king of introducing people to other people and his obsession with finding a way to bring the community together is refreshing, as he is unlike most egocentric Orange County people. He spends much time reading his books and writing notes, probably to really hammer out his thoughts for the blog that he has. I call him paddleboarder man, because he can make a paddle board and anything else you can think of. He designs the initial industrial cast molding.

Old Woman and 3 Old Men High table

This is the lone wolf table that sits high up near the line. 3 old men and the one old lady in her Uggs are the first ones there at 6am. Don't know them much but they seem nice. The old lady drives a hot red fancy car. It's quite amusing.

3:30 pm Old Man Fan Club

The 3:30 Old Man Fan Club consists of a bunch of white haired men who sit outside at approximately 3:30pm. It consists of the dude who co-owns Mothers Market, along with the garlic farmer, Jazz man (occasionally), the retired famous baseball player, an actor, and 2 others. the 2 others are really really nice. I call them the fan club because everytime I walk by, they ask me to come sit with them and tell them stories. Then they introduce me to whoever else is sitting there as "This girl is amazing.. she has gone to South America, she is like a ninja, and she is a Traveling Naturalist. How cool is that?!" I would like to tell you that I'm exaggerating. I'm not. They really do this every time.

Owner of my favorite dog "to-go" person

This white-bearded man wears the best olden day hat. He comes in around 6:55am with the best dog in the world- Foxy. Foxy is my highlight of the morning. As soon as Owner of my favorite dog, who is a professor at UCLA,walks in to order his coffee, I abandon my seat and my belongings and dash out the door to play with Foxy. Foxy really makes my mornings. We have a special bond. (I like to tell myself that even though she probably has "a special bond" with a lawnmower.) Owner of my favorite dog only comes in for about 10 minutes, talks to the 3 old men and one old lady high table, says hi to me, and then leaves.

Headphones and Screenwriter Dude

This man is a constant in the coffeehouse. Second Upper Terrace seat from bar around 4:00 pm, you can see him working on some screenplay, plugged straight into his headphones. Screenwriter dude is polite, and talks highly of his girlfriend, who he adores. She is an artist. Sometimes, they sit together. Mostly though, he is on his headphones and typing away at his laptop.

Potential next characters:

Transylvania man (Yes Transylvania is a real place, and yes he sort of does look like dracula.. a little)

The most animated cuban ever man

Window-Seating man in the suit who looks puzzled all the time

Solar Panel Woman

the hip Minister with the dark beard

Norm Walker