I love that you are crushing on our biological defenses. Yes, cherie, you and I, we have always been destined to be friends. I am assured of it. And we met. What is this!

Yes. Indeed. I would very much like to have this angel in my life for quiet some time. Not even because he thinks of me as beautiful. Not even because he seems to love everything that is exotic about me. Not even because what he sees as exotic has nothing at all to do what so ever with my arbitrary heritage, or my deep set doe shaped eyes. Not even because he loves the way I think, write, feel. No. I don't have any more not evens. Because there aren't any. I just like him. That is all. And I would like to keep this man around me for a long time. In whatever capacity. He inspires me to do so much, be so much. He is such a fan of me, he likes me so unabashedly, so non-competitively, non-possessively, so freely, and I return the favor. I have met a kindred person, for sure. Soul to soul. I feel so lucky. And we are friends. Real friends. It is a blessing and I am happy to be alive to all of this.

People like him are a rare breed. Especially to me. I can count on two fingers men in my life that have been and continue to influence and inspire me. I like and have loved a lot, but it are the rare few (that are alive) that can inspire me, motivate me, influence me in the way I can be moved. I am stubborn and hard to extract. Which is why my family keeps mentioning to me that I have yet to meet that "one", that man. Have you heard the story of Lalla? She was a saint. She used to walk around stark naked in what is now known as Kashmir. She was a very very beautiful woman. She was asked one day, or more so, scolded:

"How can you walk around thus! Are you not ashamed! What will the men think!"

And she replied:

"When I see a man, I will cover myself."

She was not being glib or cheeky. She really meant it. In any case, she walked around for years in her nakedness. One day, she saw someone, blushed, and quickly hid herself in the giant oven of a local bakery. The "man" she saw was none other than her future, her teacher and guru, a famous Sufi saint. You can look her up if you'd like more information. I love Lalla.

The majority of men that have and continue to influence and inspire me, they are all dead, buried, or cremated. Isn't that the way usually with us mortals?

Their words, although buried, live, resonate, permeate through the pores of my memory and creaky crevasses. I wrote of one of these dead men here: my Rumi. And as always when I really and truly live my life behind my closed eye lids, with my lashes curtaining the reality that is the imaginary world in my waking moments, all the men I love adore and admire come out and play. I have been accused by so many of my day dreams. But what do they know! The fun I have. I prefer it at times.

There are times as well, like now, that I prefer to be awake to it all. Oh, I have had a much better time these past weeks. I have had a good holiday. And still, getting better. I have the best friends in the world. And my family, I have no words. My brother and I, I never write about him, but man, is he an amazing human being! My best friend these days. When he isn't away getting his PhD in aeronautical engineering, my brilliant and gorgeous baby brother is hanging with me, teaching the local desi kids how to kick some fresh and funky dance moves. We are an awesome team. We have the best times together. One of these days, I will write an entire diary just about my brother and I.

^The male gender. I am in love with you. There is so much about you that amazes me, makes me feel so warm and fuzzy, happy, love, alive, and crazy. You, you people, who seem so simple, so logical, so rational, so with it, oh man, you so are not! And it comes out so easily. I happen to find the stitched sutures unraveling, sometimes, so damn charming. You men, you boys, you people, I am so lucky to have you as my friends, my loves. This, an ode to you, here in this paragraph. I love how you think, how you feel, how you get things done, how deeply emotional, protective, and nurturing you can be. How you make things, build things. Most of all, I love how you love, when you really and truly love, that love, love.  I love this about you, most of all. It makes me all tingly, excited and I can't stop smiling from this unveiling of your sweet secret universe. You are delicious.

In my seminar last semester, there was this guy. One day in October, during our break, he looks to me across the table, jumps up, points, and says,

"YOU!"

Yes?

"You and I HAVE to hang out!"

I laughed and said sure, provide the Guinness and I will hang, anytime.

I thought he was pretty young. He's actually in his late twenties. I admired his audacity and energy. I dig him, his answers, his brain, his weird and random,

"Well, in yoga, you can do these things with your phlegms. Isn't that right, M?"

I always look at him funny and stick my tongue out at him and pretend that I am not, indeed, an expert in the details of my own heritage.

"Dude! How would I know?! Down with the brown browns! Why would I, of all people, know or care anything about the third world infidels! Sheesh."

I tease him a lot. He likes it though. I think he crushes on me, a teeny weeny bit. It's all good though. I make him laugh. I make the class laugh. I laugh. It's the best fucking thing. It was my favorite seminar all semester.

I have been practicing my yoga and Vipassana quiet a bit these days. It's awesome. And taking advantage of the sandy shores that is my awesome back yard- I have been hitting it hard. My ass hurts. Oh, but the ocean, damn. How can I describe her wealth of healing_energy_love to you? And my once ailing libido? Oh, the fourteen year old boy trapped in the body of a budding woman/adult, oh, yeah, she back. Damn.

So well, my friend from school, he calls me finally in November, and wants to do lunch. And then mentions his lady. I was excited that he called, and then instantly disappointed that yoga-loving-once-straight-edge-now-just mindful-vegetarian-hiking-granola-skater-man-boy has a girlfriend.

He was very upfront about it. He said he didn't want it to be weird, that he didn't want me to think that he had any ulterior motives.

And then instantly as my initial disappointment at the news of his girlfriend raised its head, excitement and respect just as rapidly replaced it. FINALLY! I have a potential male friend, in the truly most beautiful platonic sense! Oh yesses!!! I feel like platonic relationships have come with a bad rap. Its like, "Oh well, we're "just" platonic friends... its nothing serious."

But damn, Plato was really talking about the potential of love between two people, love, support, understanding, and the really really good times that comes from being hard core true blue fans of someone else that you love, in a platonic way. No drama, no consequence. Just love, friendship. How awesome is that? Totally fucking awesome. I am kindling all over again my true blue admiration for the gender that is male. My best friends, my closest friends have always been female. So, now, I am truly liking the turn of these super cool male manifestations. So super cool!

He came over yesterday afternoon, I cooked him lunch, and we went and played Tarzan at the local beachy natural park by my house. There is this amazing trail, with so many trees and plants, deer, and then a crevasse like pit, on both sides huge trees, and a man made Tarzan rope/branch to swing from one end to the other.
JESUS it was FUN. SO FUN!!! And- Bonfires!

We spent the rest of the afternoon on the oceanfront walking and talking and laughing, and then I made us some chai, and then we commiserated about relationships the rest of the evening. Can I tell you something? He is one of most nurturing fellas I have ever met. Outside of my fam, or my far away love, of course.

The small world that it is, I know his girl. She works as a waitress at the old (I have since moved to another city) local watering hole I used to frequent last summer. It's too bad that she was the only one I did not like when I went to drink my must have mojitos, ( I of course, did not tell him this- he did mention that she was "feisty"- I just said, "Hmm. Ok.")

"Meeting" her next week will be interesting to say the least. I will definitely set aside any initial impressions and try to see her in a kinder light. I want to like her, for him, and also for me, because then she will let him go out and play with me and not feel jealous. Drama free!

I am seriously not about to bounce on her man's nuts. I have way too much respect for the integrity of relationships, whether I think they are healthy or not is really not my concern. Things always work out as they should. And anyway, I want a bona fide and true platonic male friend, dangit!!! I told him to tell her that I wasn't trying to "bounce on his nuts." He laughed so hard at my crass talk, but I meant it.

We laugh a lot together, find it easy to relate to one another, and in general I really dig his energy. He is so nurturing and strong. Any girl should be lucky to have him as an allie, a friend. But, you know, it is what it is. I am glad to know him, and also, next semester is the last semester for the both of us and we have several classes together, so even if he is not "allowed" to come out and play with me, I'll get to hang with him in school. Not sweating it. At all. But, I will say this now, and it is not because I have any ulterior motives for my new male friend because I really do not, but this girl, well, she's not it for him. That's all I'm going to say about that.

Oh, have I; mentioned the new ride I am getting? Or my new macbook pro that is en route to me as we write/read? Or what about my amazing new place with huge windows everywhere and a gigantic kitchen with the most amazing energy EVER? Or the coolest sweater hoodie my mama got for me or the awesomest slippers?! Or the gorgeous fire opal bracelet my love, my bestest girl friend designed for me? Fire opal is my favorite stone. It is fierce. Rowr. Rowr.

Ah, yes. I have had a good holiday. And I hope you have had as well. Cherish every moment. Remember every loving gesture, treasure it all. Speaking of my treasure chest, have I told you about my adventures in Key West and Orlando with all those French boys? I will. I have a new signature perfume. It's just so delicious. And all new lingerie. New bed, new sheets, new everything. Burn the boats!

Vangellis is playing the end credits to my story of what was once known, simply, as, 2007.

^(I am of course not including the inverted penis, that is my preferred moniker for my recent x, in this heady appraisal. And not W or any one else that happens to be male that I do not like or respect. Just saying.)