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we have another plate licker

2004-02-01 - 8:24 a.m.

Last night I was in a group meditation (which I hate) at the raw place and it was a 20 minute thing because that's what happens at this place before you eat. The person who usually guides the meditations starts to hum which is fine, although it breaks my concentration. He says, "we are a thousand ladybugs bursting forth." We are? "We are a pepper in the garden." But how? I think no matter how much I meditate, I will never get it. He must have gone somewhere I didn't go.

And we have another plate licker! I couldn't believe it. The Hungarian woman who usually licks the plate, didn't. But this woman next to me must be her tag team partner! She was at least 60. I was speechless. A lot of nice people were there last night, and the food was really good. This girl showed up who must be newly raw because her clothes were way too big on her. She pulled out a guitar and sang a couple of songs about meat and not killing cows. The usual. A guy who just moved here from Wisconsin yesterday (in his winnebago=his house) played a couple of Dead songs. The guy that owns the house (72 years old) began to dance and twirl around. It was really cute, he looks like a character from the Dark Crystal, he has long white hair and is gentle.

I'm going up the coast today with a friend to talk about what we should be doing with ourselves. The last time we had this talk I had an epiphany in her car. There was a hail storm for about 10 minutes in Venice Ca. It was the weirdest thing, people were coming out of their houses because it was so loud, and people on the street were getting hit by ice pellets. I couldn't hear myself speak. So I yelled to my friend, "SHOULDN'T WE BE HAVING AN EPIPHANY?" She mouthed, "what?" So I yelled it again. And I had one, right there. I decided, I was leaving my job the next day, because it was unfulfilling, although the $$ was good at times, and I was going to take a huge pay cut if necessary and I would be writing no matter what. That's exactly what happened.

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