December 1, 1997

I can't believe the year is almost gone. 6 months ago I turned 19 again. I don't know why I have chosen 19 to be the year I wish to repeat over and over, I suppose that's when life started improving.

December 2, 1997

So... yeah. I can't get it together today. I think this sinus infection is getting worse, but I will remedy that shortly.

I am sad today. I have lots of people write to me after reading this stuff and one of you that I have grown especially fond of is Tanya. We have even talked on the phone and I really value her opinion. Well, someone she loves very much has cancer now, just out of the blue, so unexpected.

I think that there is some kind of cosmic thing going on. I think we were meant to be friends because as fate would play it, she is about to enter one of the worst phases of her life and I hate that anybody has to go through this. It sucks and its interesting for me to see her go through it because I remember the first stages I went through. Feeling numb... realizing there is nothing you can do about it.

When I look back, I can't believe that I have been through what I have and am able to laugh and joke about it all. I know I have a VERY dark sense of humor as well. Like when I was done at the Holocaust museum I wanted a button that said "I survived the Holocaust museum" but of coarse they didn't make them.

I'm feeling sorry for myself today because I am sick and I didn't sleep well. I have to go do stuff. I am going to miss Roman when he leaves on Friday as well. Well, I have to get moving. I am going to go visit my mom now.

December 3, 1997

I am sad for several reasons, but still reasonably upbeat. I am thinking of my friend in Cali. I hope the person she cares so much for has a localized tumor. It makes me sad to think that anybody I know that is ignorant of this disease is thrusted into it against their will.

We had a difference of opinion about the Holocaust and I didn't expect her to ever understand what I meant and now she knows what I meant when I said I couldn't believe those people didn't stand up for themselves as much as they could have. That somehow God was doing them justice or whatever. That they let other people decide their fate is what I personally couldn't accept. But she was right and that was a different time. Plus they weren't Americans, and I just can't see Americans giving in so easily when we are the descendants of who we are... genocidal maniacs, criminals, fighters, "strong" people that had the ovaries to leave their homes and families.

Now, she is going to discover more and more what it means to fight for something you love and value, which is life. You are given only one life to live and people are making such poor choices these days with the life they are given. By the time it's too late to do anything, that's when we sort through the bullshit and fucking KNOW what it is that is important. Some people that are given second chances still miss the point, which I don't understand. I suppose because my family has been so ill that I have been bitch slapped into fighting and I can't remember what it was like before because I have always had some great conflict in my life, and when I don't, I make one.

I'm bummed because Roman is leaving on Friday. We went to a LRS and he was on the radio yesterday. He was ecstatic and he wasn't expecting to actually do it but it happened. Dennis and Gina were so cool. I asked what would happen if "the Scott system" went down and boy did I jinx it because it did just that. They handled it gracefully when there was "dead air" for a few seconds. I was impressed.

Then we went back to mom's which is about a half an hour away, then back home, then out to play pool with Priscilla, then to White Castle's for that late night craving that you get from drinking. We were driving around and I was like "It feels like you just got here."

He was like "I feel like I have lived here my entire life." And he leaves Friday. I am sad for that because he's fun to have around. I showed him a lot and I am sure when he goes back to Russia he will just be freaking out. It took me many many months to sort through all the experiences I had while I was over there and when I finally decided that it was good, I wanted more.

I could tell you a million differences between Russia and the US and it would seem so bad in an American's opinion but I have come to the conclusion that Russia is an experience that you can't get through photographs, because those are really slices of other people's memories and you are looking at what I want you to see, not what you would see for yourself. Traveling is so important, for those of you that have never left the country, I think you need to move your ass. Canada doesn't count and neither does western Europe because those are areas similar to our own culture. I haven't made it to Africa or China, so I can't give you advice, but I intend to someday.

So about my mom... She started fighting with my brother yesterday about something stupid, and they fucking know how to fight. This is good news because that means if she is well enough to fight, then who knows what can happen. She could go either way right now, I suppose. I don't' think I could EVER do this to my family. If I knew I was going to die of some dreadful disease, I would fucking make the most of what life I had until I couldn't stand it anymore and then blow my fucking brains out. It hurts for me to watch her suffer. There isn't anything I can do for her which turns that screw in just a little deeper.

I don't think she realizes how she has used her disease to manipulate us to do what she wants. She never wanted me to go to Russia in the first place, if it were up to her I would live in Kentucky the rest of my life on her property, which is not a feasible option. What I have learned from her is that I am a separate person and she is the one that is dying, and I have my own life that belongs to me me me. I would not sacrifice my life to her as she has to me, I am just her child and she raised us as her siblings.

Don't get me wrong, I love my mother dearly... but there's a point when that can be abusive and I'm sick of playing games, at least with my family. If you have never been through this, you could never understand, so if you think you know what I mean, then great, if you have no clue, don't fucking write me telling me I shouldn't be hard on her, I live with her and these are MY observations of what has happened in my life. I fucking know what I am talking about since I have lived it for the past fucking 10 years. Some of you have been living with this kind of shit for most of your lives, and that is indeed admirable, but what's going to happen when you die? Which are the memories that stick with you the most? What you are putting into the dead or dying or yourself? There has to be a balance somewhere. I refuse to give that much of myself any longer and am tipping the scales so they favor ME.

December 4, 1997

Roman should be here by now. We had a farewell dinner last night at some fancy schmancy place. I wasn't that impressed. I was raised eating dinner at places that you could spend more money in one night then what my rent costs today, so... that kind of shit works for about 5 minutes for me, especially when the food was fru fru and not very filling. They made him an honorary citizen of Louisville and when he accepted his award, he was the only one that said anything. He thanked everyone and said he "Had the best host mommy" so I was embarrassed for about 5 minutes.

I hate social functions. Maybe not so much the function but the pretension that goes along with it. The natural order of things... what the fuck ever. I feel so uncomfortable and I feel like I look so stupid. Lenny, the manager of the Connection, a bar here in town, was like, You did wonderful, all these people are attracted to you because you are a freak. Maybe not so much like that, but something like that.

I wonder if Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy is comfortable at those kinds of things. I wonder if she wears thongs so her panties won't ride up her crack, and if they do, I wonder how she gracefully excuses herself to the bathroom to pick her underware out of her ass.

I was trying to be feminine, and I took the PFP panty quiz and I scored a "you go girl, straight to Victoria's Secret and buy some fucking fem panties." So I did. So I was wearing my new panties and they went up my ass despite the fact that I had on panty hose. Now there is a contradiction. Who in their right mind wears panty hose without panties? Sure, there are some occasions I like to not wear undies, like with jeans, but panty hose without panties... yuck. The smell alone could kill a horse, polyester and cunt juice, yummy.

Then we went dancing with the two Svetas at the Connection. Then on to the Toy Tiger for some last minute white trashdom. I have done more things such as looking at a bunch of greased up cunts wrestling, then I would ever do if he weren't here. Am I appreciative of this? I can't really decide. I have seen a part of life that I have successfully avoided up to this point.

I will miss him terribly when he leaves because he is such a dynamic person. He was telling me stories about how he played ping pong against a 30 year old man when he was 15 and he kicked the other guys ass and how he was 3rd in the region for mens. Just small stuff. I am really glad I have gotten the opportunity to share some of my life here with him.

But I am also very tired. We feed off one another so well, teaching each other new stuff everyday and it gets very exhausting maintaining that kind of relationship because we are always wanting to do something new. I am ready to start grieving and allowing myself to be sad about my mom. I can't do that with him around.

Plus my house is a wreck, it's driving me crazy having shit strewn across the room.

I wanted to say something else, but I am sleepy and now I am starting to get pissed because he still isn't here and he told some other people that he would do something with them.

I think I will go horseback riding this Sunday, I know I could use the pain.

December 5, 1997

I got this annoying e-mail from some strange cunt today. It was about a "perfect" couple that ran into Santa and there was a problem and only one of them survived, and it happened to be the perfect woman, since Santa and the perfect man don't exist.

First of all, I know Santa exists.

Second, there are perfect men out there. I finally have had my faith renewed in men and I can name more then one example that I know in real life. We all have flaws, it just how much are people willing to accept and how much you can deal with on a personal level.

On that note, the dog has got to go. The little mother fucker has done about $300 worth of damages to my photos, ruined the carpet, chewed up various little objects and has stunk up the whole fucking house. I think I would rather be really fucking broke and living alone then having to deal with some asshole and his fucking dog. I can deal with the asshole, but I fucking hate the dog, probably because the asshole doesn't give it enough attention so it behaves poorly.

Today has been a day of both glory and defeat. I didn't sleep much at all last night. So I was pretty much out of it when we went to the airport. I am happy to report that he is the one that lost it first. I hate that I can eat my emotions so easily because I wanted to be a blubbering mess and when I woke from my nap today, I was. I was crying in my dreams and I really hate when I do that.

The glory part came from when we went to the newly renovated Speed Art museum, which after seeing the Hermitage, it really fucking sucks. I was wearing my backpack because I had my baby in it. I work from a notebook so I can take it everywhere.

They didn't have any lockers or anything so I refused to leave it in the coat room and when the third security guard stopped me and I refused to take it off, she got pissed and called to the head officer. He was not prepared for what he got, and maybe he didn't deserve it, but I was with Eric, and he just brings out the cunt in me. I told him I wasn't about to remove my backpack because it had my computer in it and he was like if you don't remove your backpack, then I am going to have to escort you out of the museum. I was relentless, I wasn't going to give it up.

"But Mam, we have rules"

I was like "Those rules are a crock of shit." If the Russians were allowing me to take photographs, no third rate small town museum was going to make me give up my fucking backpack.

"Then I will have to escort you out, and we don't appreciate you using that kind of language in this place." Then he fed it to me... I was hoping even anticipating the next line to fall out of his lips "Ladies don't use that kind of language, don't you want..."

"I am no fucking lady, I am a woman." I am sure the poor fellow was ready to piss in his pants. I was so mad at Diedre and Eric for walking away. I thought they were embarrassed because there were some other snobs looking at the shit, but they were running away so they could laugh their asses off. They knew how I would react and they were just watching and waiting for this guy to fuck with me.

Eric was like, "Sweetie, did you make him piss in his pants?"

I was like, "Damn close."

He escorted me to the front and I had calmed down. He actually didn't want me to leave after I was such a cunt. "You can leave you backpack with the lady at the desk, she never leaves her post."

"Oh really... then where is she right now." I said when we were within viewing distance. I am sure he was about ready to have a cow by this time. But I was compliant after much consoling. I went and hunted for Deidre and Eric and they were still laughing. I was so mad at them. But the time we spent together was priceless. It's one of those moments in time I will never forget because I felt so good about myself for being a cunt.

I found out that this year Joel Peter Witkin is the guest speaker at the SPE conference and I am going going gone... I can't wait to get my residual check so I can buy my plane ticket. My nipples are hard just thinking about meeting him. He could give Marylin Manson nightmares. Come to think of it, I'm sure I could too. MM doesn't scare me because he is contrived, but he somehow escaped being pretentious.

Granted, when I am given an audience, I can really perform, as long as I know I have at least one supporter. Life is fun when you know how to get some unexpected reaction, especially from other Americans because there are so many things that are better left unsaid. I don't give a fuck, I usually say them.

I think this took Roman by surprise because Americans aren't known for doing this. Russians fucking say anything. He tried to tell me there was nothing I could say to embarrass him, until we were at the farewell dinner and I almost yelled out "Moodak" in the middle of the crowd. I forgot that we weren't so isolated like we usually were when we were in a store and there were no Russians around. I don't think he realized how many times he yelled out "Fucking hell" in the middle of any store while he was here. The only time I really remember was when we were in the bookstore and he shouted it out very loud and I was like... um...Roman...

He couldn't understand why I chose Russian. Well, to be perfectly honest, I did it at first to prove to my sperm donor that I was smarter then he was since he failed at it. Then I just enjoyed it. I love Russia. Plus it is such a fucking hard language. I cried everyday I was there the first time it seems, but I stuck it out. The only other girl that was on that program left after 2 weeks. She didn't like Moscow. And how many Americans are up for the challenge?

Anybody and most everybody can speak Spanish. Shit, I remember stuff from high school and our foreign exchange student from back then and that's been... many years ago. But Russian, it takes a certain kind of freak to torture themselves with that level of pain. And what can I say? I like pain. But there is a level I won't go past... Finnish, Polish, Yiddish, even German. No Thanks. I will be happy if I can be somewhat fluent in just one other language.

December 6, 1997

Amazing what 30 miles can do to your server. I am at my mom's and it's so SLOW right now, I could scream.

Today was Jean's birthday. She is in a perpetual state of being 39. She actually told me her age today and now I'm upset. It was one of those great mysteries of me trying to figure out her age and she never wanted to tell me and now that she has told me, I am sad. It was a running joke. Kind of like... she has this ugly awful plant that is so cheesy. One of her friend's can't understand how she could possibly keep it blooming. This woman must have two brain cells chasing one another.

Up... here we go, mom's gonna barf. She has lost over 50 pounds since October 1st. It's pretty gross. I took a photo of her legs. They are so gross now. They look like two sticks with loose flesh attached. At least she is eating somewhat. Her staples were removed from her torso yesterday. She has no belly button so every time I see her it still takes me a few minutes to figure out what the fuck is wrong with her. It's very disconcerting to see the torso so smooth with this scar and no belly button. It bothers me more then you can imagine because I know it's suppose to be there. And I am almost a carbon copy of her so it bothers me a lot.

So... you know how you look in a photograph and you say, "That doesn't look like me." Well, Eric and I were looking at our faces in this exhibit for kids in the museum, and I must be one of the few people on the planet that has a symmetrical face,except for the mole on my left cheek, because I look the same... I don't know if you know how rare it is, but I am fortunate. I thank my lucky genes even though I carry cancer. I mean anybody and everybody can probably carry the cancer gene, but who is lucky enough to have that AND a symmetrical face as well? MEEE!!!! So, we were talking about how there is this mirror that shows you your exact reflection. When we look in the mirror, we never see a true image because our image is reversed. So I was thinking that a photograph is more true in that when you take the photo you are what you are and it's really the mirror that is lying.

There she blows...

I knew she shouldn't have eaten that grilled cheese, but what can you do? She requested it and I was obliging. That's why I am here. To serve and comfort. I think she finally realizes that this is probably it. She started to say. "If I die..." to me last night. Sigh... Even though her spirit is still willing... her body won't go much longer.

I wanted to do something special for Jean. I originally forgot her birthday was today. I think she understands that I go to see her and help her do things because I genuine care about her and not so much the money. Jen cared for her and she seemed like an interesting person to spend some time with and I enjoy her philosophy and outlook on life. So when she sent me out for milk I was ecstatic because I could then buy her a birthday cake. I went to where my mom used to buy us birthday cakes as children. Heitzman's bakery has to have the best cakes in Louisville. Before I left, she was being goofy by telling me her real age and acting like an old lady and I was kind of mad at her. I hate when people degrade themselves in front of me, I won't listen to that shit. So when I arrived back with the cake, she was mad that I had spent my money on her, and I anticipated this reaction and I told her it was my money and I will do any damn thing I wanted to do with it. She was just beside herself. She was so happy. Everybody deserves a cake on their birthday, no matter how old they are. I told her this and there really isn't anything I could have given her because when you are 39, you accumulate lots of stuff. I am 1/3 her age... and I was honored to spend the day with her today.

She will at least have a good memory of this birthday.

It started to snow the other day, I forgot to report. The day before Roman left. I talked to him today and he told me that he was missing stuff here already. I told him I missed him as well.

I would like to end this entry to say I think I am the only American on the planet of Earth that when she went to Paris, she didn't even see the Effiel tower.

December 7, 1997

Today was a pretty cool day. I didn't get to see Anne, she was suppose to come over to mom's, but I never saw her. I taped my mom today talking about stuff. I suppose I am making it for my family and to distribute it as well as an indie film. Misery loves company and for some reason, this society is obsessed with how much pain a person can go through.

I had a little get together tonight. Priscilla, Zac, Ronnie, and Andy all came by. Zac and I picked up right where we left off. It was comforting. I just couldn't imagine what Roman would have thought seeing Zac and I together. People just don't know how to take us when we are in the same room together. He so blissfully gay and one of the first things he did was accost my breasts when he came through the door. Ours is a relationship that is hard to define and even harder to explain unless you see us in action. He is one of the few people I know how to react off and we have it down to an art at this point. It's a beautiful thing, I assure you, but if the three of us were in the same room together, Roman, Zac and myself, I just couldn't imagine what it would have been like. I regret we didn't have the opportunity to find out. I regret that we didn't cook wieners on the grill or some of the other things I forgot or we ran out of time to do.

I have found myself dreaming of stuff we didn't do together. This morning, I slept at my mom's house in her bed. I was hoping it would have been comforting, like when I was a kid, but I don't think I ever found much solace sleeping with her. Besides I wiggled too much until I fell asleep, and when I fell asleep, I was conscious enough not to move hardly at all.

She vomits everyday. She ate some oranges and biscuits and ham this morning. I don't know why Granny fed her that.

Anyways, I came home and started to make lasagna. Zucchini, artichoke hearts, spinach, it was so very yummy. One of the best things I have ever made in my life. Pris was in a very strange mood. I'm in a strange mood. I think I am going to go to sleep now. Tomorrow is that last day of school and I have to prepare some food for a party.

You do what you do... you say what you say...

December 8, 1997

I am most unhappy. I am having dreams about him... Everyday since he left I dream about stuff we didn't get around to doing or something else.

I printed some amazingly beautiful photographs today. I know this is going to sound egotistical, but this is my diary and it's more for me to look back on and I am just sharing it with you, but sometimes I amaze myself. I suppose we all should do that to ourselves so we can feel happy for at least one reason. Well, they looked good today, tomorrow when they are dry may be a totally different story.

When I think about all the time I have spent in the darkroom, I scare myself. I suppose that it's a good thing to fill each day to it's limit so you don't realize how much living you do until you look back on it. I had forgotten about the time... snicker snicker. Ha ha... that's all you are getting out of me!

I must say that the new Prodigy video kicks severe ass. "Slap my bitch up" I think is what it is called. Not ONLY does the cinematography give me wood, but the end justifies the means, and I have NO CLUE what the big fucking deal is about the whole thing. It's just an amazing piece of work and I hated "Firestarter", still don't think I will buy the album, but who knows?

I am bone tired. I told Dave the dog is going to have to go. He knocked over some water that was close to one of my portfolios and now I have to not only replace every mat, but I think one or two of the photos were ruined. I left them on the coffee table so I can sit here and stare at then and remind myself of how stupid I was to get a roommate to start with.

Today was the last day of school. Isabella had this secretary come in and explain the grading system to me. I was ever so slightly pissed after that because it was really none of this woman's fucking business what my grade is in Russian. And hello... I have lived there.

So maybe I didn't do exactly what Isabella wanted me to, but I am at the point where if you don't teach me something I find interesting, then I sure as hell don't want to learn about it .For example, almost every fucking story we read about in Russian was a bout somebody dying. Do I want to hear about this? No, Am I really in denial about my mother dying? Yes. I keep trying to prepare myself, but I know once she is gone, that's it and no preparing would have helped.

I just got so sick of reading shit from last century and translating it. I would much rather read modern stuff, or set me down with a Russian Cosmo and I'll be happy. At least it talks about interesting things like abortions and stuff like that.

Besides, Roman was here, and I did practice my Russian. You know what? We somehow managed to avoid speaking of war and labs and trees and all kinds of boring stuff we had to read about in class. Amazing that life is so much more... real? then reading stories. OK, so I am really covering up my shame that I can't read very well in Russian. So what, neither can most of you so neener neener.

Bills bills bills bills. Fuck, I hate that it's Christmas and I have so many bills. Oh well, when you spend money like I do... I suppose you have to suffer the consequences. Could be worse... nighty night.

December 9, 1997

This month is just slipping away. am trying to figure out if I am going to bother with a Christmas tree. I wanted to do one while the Russian was here, but... time just slipped away and I don't feel like fucking with one otherwise. I have these amazing ornaments as well. I started collecting them when I was 16. I would buy them at yard sales and stuff. Fuck it, I am going to put one up this weekend.

Damn am I just so impressed with my work. I have a photo of Vlad hanging in my office so not only do I get to see his amazing body, I am thinking wonderful thoughts about him and sending them towards Moscow.

Shit, I forgot to take my medicine today. Forgot yesterday as well. You see, the wonderful thing about having your very own sub-arachnoid cyst is that you can too have headaches everyday. Mine are migraines. I fully function with a low grade migraine everyday. Needless to say, my tolerance for pain at this point is quite high, that's why I was able to break my leg the first time I was in Moscow and walk on it broken the entire time I was there. Pain is fun.

So... like... I need to go see Zac tonight and enjoy a cocktail. I am excited. You know, I am of a different mind set then a lot of people. I realize that. I don't wake up in the morning and think, "I'm going to cause a controversy this morning with my photos." I am just thinking about certain issues that I feel need to be addressed. My photos are my babies that make ME FEEL, and that is what is important TO ME. If they do something for other people, then that makes me happy, because most people do not sit on the fence when they see my work.

Just like my learning how to do ceramics. Do you know the feeling of holding a finished piece in your hands knowing that YOU did it, that it was your hands that worked with it, your hands that molded it. You can't do that with people.

I drank from a finished mug the other day. I kept running my hands across it's smooth blue surface, looking at the places where I fucked up, trying to figure out how I can do it better the next time. I don't do that with photography, except when I am printing. But that mug, a functional piece that I cared for, that I wedged, I threw, I glazed. It's a phenomenal process that gets me hard.

December 10, 1997

My ass is sore from sitting here all day. Maybe I should work at home tomorrow. Or tonight and sleep in late. I have a thing I have to fix on my web-page to make my computer art professor happy and then I am done, although because I don't have a lot of tacky graphics on my page, I don't think he will give me an A.

I like the design of my page, it's very clean and it loads pretty easy, and this is not open for debate because some of you fellows out there seem to have suggestions for me and this is my page, if your's kicks ass like mine does, then I might listen to you, if it sucks, and you fucking know when your site sucks, don't waste your time telling me how to improve mine because I will only piss you off by telling you what's wrong with yours, IF you even have one.

I was whistled at this morning. I felt so good about myself. I went to Circuit City to get the video camera cleaned and some dude whistled at me. I smiled. I don't understand how women can be offended when a man is a gentleman and holds the door open for you or whistles at you. It makes me feel more like a woman, but then I enjoy being a woman.

Actually, I don't expect a man to hold a door open for me, I demand it. Even though my father was a monster, he did raise me with manners. Always say please and thank you, take a man's arm when you are in public. I think that kind of shit is important because as a girl, it made me feel important. Unlocking my car door first... Just because I talk frank about life doesn't mean I can't behave like a lady.

Roman called me last night. I was so happy. He told me he dropped off the packages I sent to Lena and Liuda off. Liuda looked at him like he was some kind of freak until he said my name and stuff. I'm sure she freaked out. I miss him. He was only here for 5 weeks, and I miss him terribly. I don't understand how people that live together for a little while can't be attached to one another. Like Andy and myself, for example. I still talk to him a lot. I had a crush on him in high school and then dated him in college and spent close to 5 years of my life with him. That's a lot of time. I wouldn't dream of giving him up. I think of other guys as well. It's not so much painful to remember them, but I am curious every once in a while what they are doing with their life.

He slept on the train the whole 22 hours. The people in the group were so worried about him they had the conductor open the door to see if he was still alive. So it's nice to know he was just as tired as I was, he was just better at hiding it. I remember once when I was 16, I stayed awake for 3 solid days. Now, I can make it one day for sure and then I have to sleep really hard. I need to get my body in a regiment though, because it's not so good to be so cruel.

There was this one girl I was in school with who could stay up for three of four days straight, but then she would have to sleep for two. I need to call her and see how she is doing. She once made a comment about how fucked my life was and now her's is totally fucked.

I like my job a lot, when there is stuff for me to do, and when there isn't, well... then I can bother other people. I think this is the first job I have had where I am not the biggest freak, or maybe most of the people I work with are just as freaky as me. Tony told me to get a life because I work on my page all the time.

That pissed me off. Just because I don't waste my time watching TV at night... I don't think people really realize how cool web-pages are, and what you can do with them.

I think he is jealous because... no, I am not going to show you. I am trying to become a better... bitch, not a standard one.

I think I will be spending the weekend at my mom's. I suppose that's a good thing. What will I do? Watch her puke and listen to her moan. Yea!

I think I will be going out of town after Christmas, or I hope so. Celebrate the new year some other place besides here. Too bad Timbuktu is so far away... I bet the weather is yummy this time of year.

December 11, 1997

I'm working from home today. I love it.

I just drank a few cups of coffee and now I feel like Bevis as Cornholio. I don't understand people that say they don't watch the Beve and Buttmunch. It's mindless entertainment but when you really think about it, they are icons of our culture. You may disagree, but that's because you haven't thought about it.

I am one of those obnoxious people that is really creative in whatever I try to do, and I don't understand other people when they "try to tell me a thing or two" because they live their life not as I do. I have NEVER met a girl that lives her life as I do, (this may change) or at least one that is equally as pig-headed as me and we can get along. I know only 3 men that can come close to matching this energy level I maintain. Vlad, Zac, and Roman. Vlad has learned to temper himself in a manner so that he gets more mileage... I suppose he is more sophisticated in his decisions. Zac and I practically suck the life out of one another. When we have had a night together, I want to sleep for days on end. He is as phenomonial a writer as I am a photographer. His stories reach into your soul and grab your attention and say "YOU FUCKING LISTEN AND RESPECT ME, OR... live your life as boring fuck." He's not as grounded as me yet, but I think that comes with maturity.

The thing that sucks about being the way I am is that I am in a constant flux of activity and it's not always directed or focused, but that doesn't bother me because I still accomplish a lot.

Actually, I have to remind myself that I am creative like I just did. Usually, I don't think SO highly of myself because I was abused and now I am going to extremes, which is a good thing. If you met me in real life, you couldn't tell I think these things. Why do I feel like I need to apologize for recognizing the great qualities in me? Fuck that, I am cool and I am not ashamed to admit it. Once upon a time I would have been, and if I listen to certain guys I would be, but that's just them projecting their fears on to me. I like myself... ILAC I AM LOVABLE AND CAPABLE.

Ethan Hawke said something that amazed me... He said that as we mature we start figuring out that we realize how stupid we are and when we are close to the end, we realize more and more because we don't know where we are going to be next.

I cling to life fiercely. I used to be suicidal, but only when I rationalized why I should die, I got this insatiable desire to live. To experience everything. I think the more I watch my mother die, the more I cling to life. I see her and how she has forgotten so many things. She has to be dying because there is so much that she can't recall, and she seems so weak and when I sit and talk to her, I see that look of desperation, of wanting to live one more day... That survival instinct is stronger then you would imagine especially since she has held on for 17 years. I'm glad to know that I come from this. That I can live through most anything that is hurled at me, except for a B52...

So Roman is the only guy I have ever met like this, that wants to try everything, but I don't know if that was just because he was here for a "holiday" or if he is always like that. He seems to be into everything back at home, so I wouldn't doubt that he is like this always.

I try to figure out why I am like this, and maybe it's because I was raised by my father. Or maybe I was always like this, that's what my mom says. The first time I went to Russia, she told me "You should have been born a boy." That pissed me off and made me cry. I like being a female and all the entrapments that come with it. Just because I am not so fem and I like adventure.

I wonder how I will be when she dies. I think I am pretty bad at this point, and I just can't imagine it getting stronger, but who knows? I don't think I will crash and burn, except for a little while. When most people's parents die, they start to live more because that link is missing, and that gap of mortality is felt stronger.

I feel much better now... I bought a punching bag the day Roman got here and I just beat the shit out of it. It's not a punching bag... what the fuck is it? One of those big heavy fucking things. I try not to hit it too often, 'cause I have the carprel tunnel thing... and now my wrist hurts. But it feels great hitting something and getting all this aggression out of my system. Or just releasing some of this energy.

"I am Cornholio..."

December 13, 1997

I started off the day crying yesterday. Tanya's neice's cancer spread to two different places. I know how she felt. When you find out it's worse then you imagined, it's as though you have been sucker punched because you knew it could get worse, you just didn't want it to.

I had my one big final yesterday, and that was kind of interesting. It's funny to see how people perceived our city. Eric and I did pasted stuff on to some canvases... I suppose I should photograph it because it is rather interesting.

So we went on the Bambi walk. I have a feeling Diedre and I are going to become closer. She's a really good photographer and I respect her. But we are both kind of alike in that it's hard to trust another female and stuff. I suppose that since I have been to her apartment now, that like, breaks the barrier. She is one of those people that is hard to get to know, or at least she gives off that vibe so you are the one that has to do the work.

It was weird being out with my class, what few people showed up, but it was also a lot of fun. Both of them are cool and I will miss Dr. Daken's wit and humor next semester.

After that, Andy and I went to Zac's to trim his tree. It was fun and I got all kinds of warm fuzzies. I adore him so much...

There are certain levels of friendship I have started to notice more and more. Like, I have lots of people I am "friends" with and stuff, but I wouldn't go over to their house because that implies a totally new level of friendship. That is the kind where you are almost obligated to buy somebody something for Christmas. Or buy them something when you go out of the country. I only have a handful of those kinds of friends.

I am so EXCITED!!!! I can't help myself. Zack and Kevy are in town so I am most definitely going to get to see them. I love Zack, and Kevy is a happy little extra because he is another one of those males I can play off. (By the way, Zack and Zac are 2 totally different people. Zac lives here and Zack lives in Chicago) The only one that is not gay is Roman. So I am going to get to spend some time with them. They are going to go watch Scream 2 and I am going to go help Melissa with her tree and then I am going to meet up with them so Kevy can have a tour of Louisville.

I finally got a letter from my friend Liuda. She sent it way back before school started. There are some cool photos of her in Siberia. When I scan them, you will be like, "I thought Siberia was cold." Well, in the winter, it is colder than a witches titty, but in the summer, it is beautiful and lush.

I over slept today so I didn't go to Jean's. She was not too happy with me, but that's OK. Tomorrow I have to shoot some photos and print. I am not to happy about that, because I don't know completely what I want to do, but it has to be done. Then I have the 2 weeks of laundry I have to do. At least I am done with school so I don't have to worry about that anymore.

I will go to my mom's tonight and spend some time with her and do my laundry. That's the ticket. Quality time... I better take the video camera as well, and think of some stuff I can photograph for my assignment.

I wish I could just lay around today, but I would hate myself for that.

After I wrote this, I went out with Melissa and we picked up her tree and got it situated before I left to meet Zack and Kevin at Wick's pizzeria. We sat there and talked and talked. Kevin went right in and asked me how my mom was. I had forgotten his father also died from cancer so he knows what it feels like. He kept asking me how I was and I was like, "What do you mean how am I? I'm pretty fucked up but none of my friend's really want to hear about this shit." So he asked me what I was doing for me and I told him that I stay busy so I don't have to think about it.

I can't talk to Melissa about this shit, she has known about it for a while and her mother had her breast removed last Thursday, so even though she won't admit it, she's pretty fucked up too plus she has to take care of the baby.

Priscilla can listen, and has, and I'm sure Zac would listen as well, but I don't ask them to listen. It sucks and it's something I am going to have to deal with on my own.

Kevin was telling me how all the kids are going to have huge fights and stuff because this or that didn't get done, and I know that is going to happen because it already has started to happen. I told him that's why I can't stay here. Even if I don't get accepted into Cal Arts, then I am leaving and wandering around until I feel comfortable where I stop. But I am sure that won't happen because I am such a practical person.

Kevin somehow managed to draw that part of me that I keep to myself, in a good way. He's really a great guy and I think Zack is a lucky man to have him and vice versa.

I gave him a bunch of pictures I took in Chicago of him. I think he was delighted. That's why I absolutely adore him, he is happy about everything, and when he's not, he is a little catty. He just has that right edge of... a razor blade personality that sometimes cuts a little deeper.

I think I am going to go cry now.

December 14, 1997

Today was a pretty awful day.

I woke up to a phone call from my sister that I was supposed to have been here at noon. (She lives next door to my mom). So I forgot to take my medicine and I forgot to bring a Kinder Surprise for Nate. I bought a bunch of them for him when I was in Russia and keep them in my fridge so I can occasionally bring him one.

Mom and her best friend Connie were wrapping presents and Lesli is videoing all her friend's wishing her well so Connie and Lesli went upstairs and I broke down and cried after my mom talked about living for another two years. I told her I couldn't deal with two more years of this shit. She told me she understood and I was like no you sure don't. She can't understand how I feel, she hasn't lived through what I have and it isn't the same for her, even though she is the one dying.

Then she told me that my feelings don't matter, and that made me angry and sad as well, because Roman said the same thing and maybe they are right, but I have a right to feel the way I do even if...

She told me that she understands that I want closure, and she is right. I just want it to quit hurting so bad, and maybe now I am just at the bottom of my cycle and hopefully soon I will be going back up. But grief is a horrible feeling, and it's not so easy for me to let go.

December 15, 1997

I taught Tony a bunch of Russian cuss words and now he says them constantly... it's nice to know he can learn, and it's rather amusing to hear some of the stuff that comes out of his mouth...

I was thinking back to a year ago when my mother got this kitten from the shelter. Actually, it was two kittens and the other one died. They were much too young to be taken away from their mothers and they were malnourished. By the time I realized the other one was dying, it was too late.

I took it home with me and Andy and I were still going strong. He had to go to work at UPS that night so I stayed up with this kitten, trying to feed it trying to nurse it back to health. It already started dying and I was too stupid to realize it. I held it on the drive home and listened as it's meows grew softer and softer until they were whispers of what a kitten should sound like and then just motions of opening it's mouth.

Andy left for work and first I tried to wrap the thing up, to no avail. The other cats knew it was dying and my oldest cat just sat around and sniffed it. It had the runs and could no longer control any of it's bodily functions.

I bathed it to get the shit off because it was a fluffy kitten and it bothered me to see that kind of mess all over it's cute little body. I sat there, drying it off, realizing that it wasn't meant to live much longer. I wanted so desperately to reach down and snap its neck so its suffering would end... but it kept staring up at me silently mewing. I watched it as it took it's last breaths and then it died.

I cried so much that night because I was mad at myself for watching the little thing suffer, and I couldn't reach down and kill it. Just one twist of my fingers and it would have been over.

I have been such a bitch. I let my feelings over take me and I can't believe I want my mother to die, which is only natural I suppose. I feel like I have let her down because I can't cheer her on anymore, and that's just not the case. I can cheer her on, it's just a lot more difficult to do that then to let it pass. I told her it was hard watching her die and she told me it was hard for her to live and I know that I am one of the reasons she wants to live because my father fucked us up so bad. She wants to make it all go away, and right every wrong, but I tell her that is impossible.

She wants to live to see more grandchildren, but I am afraid I am not up to the challenge just yet. I have to accomplish certain things before I can move in that direction for myself. Besides I am only 19, again...

I called her just a few moments ago and told her that no matter what she wants to do, I support her, even if it is going to fucking France and going through the "healing" waters of Lourdes. Hell, I am willing to try just about anything once, and if it eases her in some way, shape or form, then more power to her.

Full moons suck.

December 16, 1997

Damn risiduial checks... I am hopefully going to Atlanta on the third with Diedre and Jennifer from my Art in Public Places class. We are going to go see the Picasso's. I know a lot of people don't particularly care for Picasso, but he's better then Monet in my opinion. I am so sick of Monet I could vomit. It doesn't help that my mom and sister just adore him. When we were in Washington, my mom was like "LET'S GO LOOK AT THE IMPRESSIONISTS" I was like, "Let's not and say we did." But I am a good daughter, so we went and looked at the Impressionists. First we went to the cunt museum, that was my stipulation. I wanted to see other artwork by women, because that's important to me. Plus some of the major women artists of this century were photographers. NOTHING can compare to the day I held an Imogene Cunningham ORIGINAL in my hands and stared at the details as I got my cooties all over it.

So, I am patiently waiting for January the 3rd of 5th to get here so I can have some damn money.

Roman e-mailed me today. I am so happy. I wanted to call him this weekend and tell him he left his baseball here, you see in Russia, they believe that if you leave anything behind, you have to come back and get it, I know it's a superstition, but it's cute and I like it. Besides, it worked for me, I went back this year because I left a pair of pants over there. He also forgot a pair of his underware, and shaving cream, which fucking fell on my foot this morning when I was bathing.

I am in a much better disposition today then I have been in a while. Maybe it's because Roman did e-mail me, or maybe because I quit whining so much about my mom dying. This isn't the first time we thought she was going to croak, it's just the scarriest. I am starting to gain momentum in thinking that we are going to push push push and life will turn which ever direction it chooses.

Life is too short to worry about what happens the next day, and I need to enjoy her company more and more. I am trying to think of questions I can ask her, but I keep forgetting them.

I'm sure everybody at work thinks I am a freak. I bring my computer to work to work on, and use the Mac that is a nice, expensive Mac as a CD player. Shelia said "I heard that Marylin Manson playing" yesterday. I wonder if it bothers her. There is this one song that talks about when all of your wishes are granted, many of your dreams will be destroyed. Which is always true. If we don't dream, then what do we have? And then I realized the other day that having your dreams come true isn't necessarily a bad thing. I dreamt of graduating from college, and here I am... I could have graduated sooner, but now I will have a BA in Russian and a minor in Russian Studies, a BFA in Photography and a minor in Art History. So... I suppose I am educated although now I feel like I know even less.

I am tired. I went home and slept from 6 until 12 last night, then woke up and did my bills and dropped off some film at Winn Dixie. I fell asleep around 5 and woke up at 9, reluctantly. At least next week I will get to sleep in some.

My ass is sore from sitting so much this past week. Ah... the advantages of working at home. Sitting at home in my long johns on a comfy chair and listening to music on a system. I feel the need to work at home tomorrow.

Plus Dave is gone, so no dog and no worries about walking around in the buff. I watched an episode on Seinfield the other day that totally turned me off of it for the rest of my life where his girlfriend walked around in the buff all the time and there was good naked and bad naked. What the fuck ever. Naked is good no matter what. That's why we weren't born wearing clothes. Seinfield is an idiot and I must admit, when I saw him half naked, I wanted to puke.

Well, I am going to get back to work. I hear "secret lovers" blaring down the hall, I suppose MM has worn out his welcome. I'll put in Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker Suite to get me more in the Christmas mood...

December 17, 1997

I am feeling like crap now. I probably should have just stayed in bed this morning. My head hurts so bad I am squinting my eyes and stuff. But it still isn't time for a magic pill...

My sister had this idea that we should tape some of mom's friends telling funny stories about her, so I went to her friend's Liz's house last night. Lesli taped her beat-friend's Connie and I think I am going to revoke camera privileges away from her. She can't tape for shit, but she also had a baby in her arms.

So Liz knew my mom back before my sister, Anne, was born. Both their husbands were bastard lawyers. I now understand where I get some of my drive from. Liz told me all kinds of stories about how mom was always bursting at the seams with new ideas. I never knew my mother when she was like that. What I remember of her was that she pretty much slept most of the time we got to spend with her, and by the time I was a teenager and my father kicked us out because she was dying (that was the first time she was given 3 months to live), I was a terrible teen, for about 6 months.

I wish I could see more into my mom's life through other people's lives. She basically has stayed alive for us, and she confessed to me several times how she wanted to pack us up and run away, or kill herself. I know that if she weren't here today, I would be dead because I would have never of made any sense out of my life. I never thought I would live past 16 anyways.

So it was weird sitting with Liz and talking about her. Comforting to a point. There has to be a way to get back at my father. Some people say just forget it, but we all have vengeful hearts and want to cause people that hurt us pain. I just freely admit that I want retribution. And revenge is a dish best served cold.

I walked to work today. It was a beautiful day and the sun was shining bright and clear. I was enjoying myself throughly when some freak using a pay phone on the corner was like "Pssst" and I yelled "No" then he did it again and I yelled much louder "NO!"

Now, if he had whistled, that would have been a totally different story, but trying to get my attention AS IF I would walk over to this fucking loser (dressed like a loser) and actually be his pal. GROSS. I wished I could have taken a shower.

Then this other guy was walking around in his boxers, not realizing I was around and hocked a big luggie. I almost started laughing but the phone loser was really close and I didn't want to attract any more of his attention.

Today, I am sitting next to the expensive silent MAC and listening to my own Cd player on my computer. Heaven. Too bad I have this fucking headache. The barometer must be changing. Last week it snowed and this week, I don't need a jacket. Next week it will snow again.

December 18, 1997

Fuck FUCK FUCK. FUCK! Next week is Christmas and I haven't gotten one person a thing, well, except for my oldest nephew.

Pris wants some mugs, so I will throw those when I get back. I am giving Melissa money so she can spend it how ever she pleases. Plus I don't know what to do with her. My mom wants a doll. I am not going to get my brother anything. I bought a little thing for Anne in Russia, I am getting Lesli's kid's something, so I am not sure I will get her anything. I could do what Melissa is doing and get Lesli and Doug a miracle thaw. It's cool.

This is the first year Andy ever got me something before Christmas Eve, and we aren't even together. I have no clue what to get him. I am going to make cookies for the people I work with, tonight.

I wish I could give something cool to my grandmother and grandfather, but they have so much. I suppose I will figure something out soon. I feel like I am forgetting a lot of people this year. I suppose that would be Andy's side of the family. I will miss their Christmas presents since they usually give money... his grandparents give everyone one of those real silver dollars.

I am so tired, but not like I usually am. I actually got about 7 hours of sleep last night. I went and saw Colin and Melissa. It was nice talking to her.

I am going to spend time with Zac tonight. He is putting the burden of the relationship on me, which I suppose is what I need from him because I have 50 million other things to concentrate at the same time. Oh... I know what I am giving him...

Today is a pretty peaceful day because I am bing evil and plotting to take over the world... at least somebody's world... he he he.

(Oh look, I was the 666th person to read my journal... how telling.

December 19, 1997

I am learning CGI scripting.

It is kicking my ass.

I haven't talked to my mom today yet. Usually I like to talk to her before I start working to see how bad she is feeling. Yesterday was a bad day. The day before she went to see her oncologist. She barfed 3 times when she was there. I suppose she just needs to quit wasting her energy with him. He should come see her. He pissed me off because he released her from treatment. I think if she hadn't of been released from treatment, then it wouldn't have gotten so bad, but maybe he was just tired as well.

I didn't get to see Zac last night. He had a boy there and I had taken a nap so I was just sleepy and didn't want to go over there anyways. I woke up and made cookies instead. Andy went and bought some chocolate chips, the nasty low-fat Hershey's kind. I was not happy, but the cookies are OK. I am trying to be careful with what I eat, and he was just looking out for me. Nestle's are great chips, but I prefer Baker's, the semi and dark chocolates mixed together. So far everyone likes them.

I even made some plain oat-meal cookies for Tony because he is a freak and doesn't like chocolate. How it is humanily possible not to like chocolate is beyond me. That has to me the nectar from the gods.

They say that eating chocolate brings on the feelings that love does or something like that.

I got another letter from Roman the other day. He is having a hard time to adjusting to life back in Russia. I figured he would and I told him he would, I don't think he believed me.

OK... OK... I want to understand something. When people tell me or advise me on a matter I know nothing about, I will proceed with caution or at least take their advice on how to go about something, unless you are male and you don't agree with me. She told me and my younger sister about sex in GRUESOME detail. It made me sick. She made a "virgin" bet with us when we were younger that if we didn't have sex before 16, she would give us money, but that's beside the point. So... do you think I had sex as a teenager?

I knew from her experience that the feelings that go around having an sex before I was ready were feelings I never cared to experience. NEVER. Let alone the problem with having an STD. Shudder. So... why is that some people don't use other people's misery as an example of how NOT to live their life? I can tell you an STD sucks, and it fucks you up in the head BECAUSE of the cultural bullshit that goes along with it. It's not enough to tell someone DON'T DO THIS, you have to tell them WHY. I have avoided many disasters this way, and created totally new ones from different experiences people I know don't put themselves through.

So back to Roman, I don't think that he didn't believe me, he just shrugged off what I said to him and now he writes that he can't do this and that because he can't adapt. Life in Russia is hard, you hear about the villages and think "Oh that's so cute" but really, it's not. It's a standard of living that a girl from KENTUCKY is not accustomed to, and I have used an out house once... OK, so it doesn't really count because it was contrived. I was at Penn's store, the oldest store still in existence (I think) in America. There was a chick that posed for Playboy in front of that store. But it is cool to go to this place because it's like stepping back in time 100 years, except 'coon skins have been replaced by modern products. It's a pretty cool place to stop by and sit inside with Granny, drinking a lemonade and shooting the shit about how life has just stood still in that part of the country.

I talked to mom, she was asleep which means I woke her up. I feel kind of bad but I was feeling a little strange by noon and I hadn't spoken with her. She wasn't doing too well. Sigh. She realizes that she is dying now and is getting her affairs in order.

Well, I have a little over an hour before I can leave, and the CGI stuff is coming more easy to me. I am excited because I have learned a lot of stuff today. Have a nice weekend.

December 20, 1997

I don't know where to start. Andy, Zac and I went to the Vietnam Kitchen for dinner last night, and it was fabulous. Zac wants me to marry him so he can have it look good that he has been divorced. I was like, well, that's cool. I suppose he will be a well published author one day. I admire him.

I told him I would marry him if I was the one that got to get divorced for finding him in bed with another man.

We then went out to O'Sheys and I saw a girl I went to high school with. I told her I might be in California next year and she told me to "look for this other girl." Yeah, right. Like I (ME) am going to make an effort to find this cunt out in California when she wasn't nice to me in high school. What the fuck ever. I have a strange perception of how things work, I feel that once you fuck me over, if you are close to me, I will let you have another chance, if you aren't, then you aren't worth wasting my time on.

This is what happened between Trisha and myself. She was a bitch to me in Paris, or let's just say Ronnie was a bitch and she sided with him because she was going to have to spend the next year with him. Needless to say, they both came home BEFORE me, which I think is funny. Then, when she got here, (she stayed out in Utah until school started) I forgave her for royally fucking me over. She was going to move in, had her stuff here, and then decided she was going to go back to her loser of a friend that yelled at her for coming back so soon.

So she showed up to my Russian class and was like "I hear you don't like me."

"Oh really? Who did you hear that from?"

"Well, I have been talking to Marina."

Fast forward to a month later..."Marina, have you seen Trisha lately?"

"You know I haven't talked with her or Ronnie since they came back from Russia."

Back to the class, thinking to myself "Hmmm... Cathy, well you know that she hasn't talked to Marina since she came back home, so I bet it was Bennie that told her, the guy she royally fucked over before she left." Suckers, men are such suckers when it comes to these kinds of matters.

She showed up to my class one more time and I had to rub it in that I might be going to California. She has some ideas for films and back then I was like, well, let me know and I will lend you my camera. So the next time I saw her, in my class, she was like.

"My film is coming along well."

"Oh really? How's Bennie?"

"Well, his car broke down so I don't see much of him anymore."

With this key sentence, I was like, honey, go fuck yourself until hell freezes over. I feel nothing towards her anymore, or I should say I have no good feelings towards her any longer. I realized that, and I knew before that she just uses people, but this statement made me write her off for life because SHE DOESN'T PUT INTO the relationship. She expects everybody to be nice to her and do stuff for her because she is pretty, and it worked on me for a while, she is charming and everything, but I only like to be fucked by my partner, and she is not only lacking in self-confidence, but values as well. I'm really funny about morality and values because of how I was raised and where I was raised. Sometimes, I wish I could be more free, which those of you who know me think this is insane because I say whatever suits me. But I don't feel very free.

Anyways, I am a very good friend and I expect my friends to be just as good to me as I am to them so when they fuck me over like this, I am not very forgiving. I am not into playing mind games with my closest friends, it takes too much energy. Other people are fair game, however. And no matter how much I want to forgive them, I won't. There are other people to be sought out and I don't need to live in fear of my closest friends.

A guy I was fucking was like, "You should be nice to them no matter what." And I honestly tried to be a good person, but I refuse to be fucked anymore. When I see her in real life, I will be kind and courteous, like any Southerner should be, but that's it. I no longer care what or how she lives her life because I refused to be sucked back into her life.

There's a poem about how one friend is silver and the other is gold, too bad gold can be scratched off to reveal the alloy underneath. Thanks, I have a few gold friends and the others can stay silver.

I will take shit from Zac. I have known him longer and I know he really cares for me no matter how evil he can be, or even me for that matter. So that's probably why I would marry him, even if it is just for a few weeks.

December 21, 1997

I should learn that command that jumps me down the page because it's taking too long for me to hold down the down arrow.

The advantage of having a dog around is all 3 of my cats sleep with me at night. Maybe I shouldn't get rid of him, I kind of like having a cat on my head when I sleep, it keeps me warm. If I could have any pet in the world, it would have to be an Octopus. I must make enough money so I can have an octopus. They are smart and have cool eyes. Plus I could jump in it's big tank and swim with it and love it and call it George. I wonder what it would be like to have 8 arms to hold me. Anyways, I would sing "I'd like to be Under the Sea..." to it and just overall, I can see it be a satisfying experience.

Hi... this is my pet octopus, George.

So... Andy bought me a SCSI card for my laptop. That means that I stole my mom's scanner, what the fuck, she's not using it. Now I need to get a Zip drive and a negative scanner and I can take over the world, but that's not my grand scheme.

I started to throw shit away last night. I am proud of myself. I am a horrid pack rat and I need to just say, "Cathy, this is shit, you don't need it anymore, it's only sentimental." I have lots of memories now that have replaced the bad or non-existent memories of my childhood. I use photos as a way to remember stuff as well. When I am looking through a group of photos, I can say, "there should be one more photo there" or I just know what is coming next. It's pretty cool.

I saw my mom yesterday. I saw her ass too. It looks like a deflated balloon. I wanted to cry because I know that this will be an image that will live with me as long as I live. I have started to give a fuck about what I put in my mouth now. I eat more fruits and veggies. I have even indulged in a few carrot juice drinks with my mom. I don't want to die from cancer, so I am going to attempt to control it with my diet.

Well, I have to go. Colin is being christened today and I am the Godmother. No Godfather, just me.

Later...

I sat and watched Colin be fussy at his christening. I was never christened. I am sure that I won't go to hell, because I believe that people make heaven and hell on earth. I have been through hell, I can honestly admit, and I don't think that anything that could happen to me when I die could be worse.

I have been there for him and Melissa the day he was born, the day he was christened, and I will be there for his first Christmas. When he is older, I can say I was around and that he was special to me. He recognized me when he saw me. That amazes me so much. I know people say that you don't understand a lot about life until you have your own kids, but I have such strong feelings that I can imagine myself in just about any situation and figure out how I am going to react.

I don't know how other people react to situations that doesn't involve them directly. I only know what I feel and how I think.

Yesterday Jean gave me a Christmas gift. I started crying in the car because I know that my grandmother on my father's side won't even send me a Christmas card this year. I haven't heard from her in over 7 years, back when I quit communicating with my sperm donor. Some people would think that I was old enough that I should seek her out, but I promise you there is nothing there for me to gain from her. I despise her for everything she was and is. She pretends to be a lady and have class, but going to the garden club and having money doesn't necessarily make you a lady. I suppose I hate her for condemning my mother for being from a different class. I suppose being a lady implies that you must also be a hypocrite.

I won't get anything from my father this year for Christmas and it hurts me in a way because I know how Colin will feel when he gets older and can't understand why his father has nothing to do with him. It's a painful road that I have been down, to feel rejected by someone that helped create you. He had nothing to do with it and that is one of the hardest things that I have had to learn. He's a great kid and it's going to be neat watching him grow up. He's already doubled in size in the 2 months he has been here. And he is so adorable.

I taped Connie and Joy tonight over at Connie's house. They talked about my mom and it was all very informative. Then we talked about how we (my siblings) are all going to fight once my mom dies and stuff. All very comforting talk. I was told I had matured because I didn't say fuck. I was like, "What the fuck ever." I don't adhere to those standards of old because they are bullshit.

There are a lot of inhibitions that I am slowly releasing as I get older. What are inhibitions after all but manifestations of fear and the only thing I truly fear are fears that have been dictated to me. I know what it is like to not be loved, to be loved, to fear death from my illness, to see my family suffer, to be abused, to travel, and finally to feel and be free. I suppressed my feelings for so long as a child that when I was able to feel for myself as an adult, it was like being a child again in an adult's body. There are many things I haven't experienced that many people did as children and I am catching up, in my own way, and I suppose that is what makes me unique, among other things.

I went to Zac's tonight. He and Andy are going to be room-mates, which will be interesting to say the least. I met his current fuck. I was not that impressed, but he's got a big dick from what Zac said, and boys, I hate to admit it, but size really matters, I swear. Besides, it seems many guys with enormous cocks are gay. It's like girls with big boobs, they for some reason are more appealing to the male population just as men with big cocks are appealing to females. The only difference is it is not so evident when a man has a big cock.

So why wasn't I impressed with his new fuck, well, for the simple reason that Zac is not impressed by the way he was rolling his eyes and he said he got his degree from U of L in Photography and he was coping that photographer's attitude with ME. OK, I don't know if you have noticed that photographer's have MAJOR attitude problems and they are like, "I AM a PHOTOGRAPHER." Big Fucking deal. Sometimes, I have to admit, I cop that attitude when I am with a group of people I detest and they think they are better then me. Well, so, the photography department is small at U of L, and I have NEVER seen this mother fucker in the lab or anything, so it was just a weird situation.

Plus, he didn't know how to react off of Zac or what to make of him, so I don't admire that because Zac is my princess. And he is working in a restaurant now, biding his time until he gets into grad school. Why did he waste his education so he could have a whack off job? I don't understand it. But then I am lucky in that I have a job in a field that I am interested in so I don't have to wait tables.

I suppose what I am thinking is that I don't admire people that work so hard and so long to get their degrees and then end up doing a common job, or I am just perplexed by these situations. I refuse to be sheep. I refuse to settle for anything but the best and I anticipate that is what I will get because I will work to get it.

Time for bed.

December 22, 1997

Mom goes to see Dr. Aaron today. I think she may have to have surgery again. I think there is another blockage in her intestine and they are going to have to do something so she can eat. Connie thinks it might be the same place, but I think it's another one.

I am so sick today. I should have known by the way I was sleeping and the bags under my eyes that I was ill. I think it's the end of the semester, working all the time, worrying about mom and my life that has wore me out and so I was more susceptible to what's going around. I was really quite proud of my body, too. Ever since I came back from Russia the first time, I haven't been real sick. I was sick there every week but one, but since I had all the Russian cooties, I haven't been so sickly.

I don't know what happened to me. I used to be so healthy. When Andy and I were together, his mom would comment on how he was really sick as a child, with allergies and stuff, and well, I wasn't that sick as a kid except when I got to be a teenager.

The first major scar I got was when I was 3 or 4 and I was climbing the Bumpus's fence, I fell and hit a brick. Now I have this lovely scar on my left upper forehead. I remember riding to the hospital and my mom holding a bloody rag over my head, and asking for a bubble (laughing gas?) when they stitched me back up (invention of the stitch fairy); Some people ask if that is where I had brain surgery, sometimes I wonder if those people are thinking. I got a scar on my right eyebrow from running in my parents room and hitting the little thing at the bottom that locks the doors to the closet; I knelt down on a piece of glass when my dad was talking to a client in the alley when we still lived in Crescent Hill (second set of stitches); I was running on the dock around our lake house and got a big gouge because I mis-stepped and my leg went right into the corner (I couldn't swim in the lake after that and that made me mad); I took some shampoo in a glass bottle to the pool, broke it, and of coarse stepped on it; I broke my leg in fifth grade playing soccer when my foot went in front of the ball; I had step throat countless times; I have been sun-poisoned twice to the extent that my skin swelled (once was this past summer); I had shingles when I was 15; I had brain surgery when I was 18 (they cut my lip open and re-attached it so now it sticks out a little because I don't have a divit); Had two surgeries on my vagina which was extremely painful. I have to stop here because I want to comment on this one...

Don't ever cut yourself unless you have to. It's gross and it hurts. My first vaginal surgery was botched and it hurt for me to walk, so you can imagine how much fun sex was for me at that time. If you have ever cut yourself with a razorblade on accident, and you know how achy it feels, imagine that multiplied by 1000 and that is what a botched surgical scar feels like. I am still aware of this stupid mistake I made today because even though it was fixed by Dr. Purcell, it still isn't "new." I think if I had gone off the depo-provera, my body wouldn't have reacted in this manner, growing cysts that is.

I broke my leg in Moscow, and I think that's about it. The hot glue gop on my left hand back when I was ten; If I turn my leg into the sun just right, I can still see places from when I wasn't such a precisioned shaver (that has been many many years ago) I am much better today; I have scars from donating blood and plasma; I have stretch marks from where my breasts grew overnight; that shingles scar is the grossest deformation on my body, I wish I could cover it up with a tatoo; Oh... my favorite... I have a tiny scar where my leg joins my torso from an angiogram they performed on me after they found out I had a cyst in my brain. That was so cool seeing my jaw move as I spoke, and I was on some kind of anesthesia at the time. Wait, that's not true, I am most proud of my brain surgery scar because it grosses people out when I show them.

December 23, 1997

I just talked to mom. She went to the doctor yesterday. He said there was nothing wrong with her, which is a crock and we all know it. They are the same asshole surgeons that fucked up my vaginal surgery. I thought, "well they saved my mom's life, they must be great." What a fallacy. Hind sight is 20/20...

She told me how she was really hurting and I asked if she had any drugs, and I am sure she hasn't taken them. I am so tired. I think I have some kind of upper respiratory infection because I have this nasty cough. My boss is out sick today because he didn't take meds for his cold and his is a full blown mess.

I talked to Jen's mom last night, she will be here tomorrow. Then I went home and got a card from Liuda. I was so happy. It's a funny thing because I just now got a letter from her from back in September. I called Marina and went over to her house. It was nice, it smelled like Russia, and they didn't even bring furniture or any thing, so I think that is interesting that it can smell like it does in Russia.

I talked to Anne last night. We had a knock down drag out fight back in March and we are still on shaky ground. She called me! That's like, a first. She was talking about how she doesn't have the strength to leave baby arm quite yet. He's an ass, and I don't like him. I am sure he doesn't care for me because the first night I met him I asked a bunch of hard questions that most guys never hear their girlfriend's sister ask. She needs him now because she is having a hard time dealing with mom, and I totally understand why she needs that comfort now. I asked if she knew why I hit her back in March and she said no so I explained that she was giving me that shitty attitude like back when she had leukemia (she is well now) and I just snapped. I told her that I didn't want to be treated like that any longer and she was like "I am who I am" and in the same breath was like "I don't want to end up like dad and his brothers and sisters." So... for this I conclude that she doesn't want to change, she wants to remain a little cunt and have the family get along as well. Whatever. Then she talked about how glad she was that I enjoyed horseback riding and was excited about me coming down to Lexington.

She always used to say "I miss you, Cathy." when I wouldn't see her for a while, but she never made an effort to call me or try to be around me and I was the one that was always calling her. I decided I wasn't going to fall into that trap again because I was thinking of her yesterday and almost called her when she called me, so you can imagine my surprise when I picked up the phone and heard her making an effort.

I went to Sam's after work yesterday to return the phone that Roman bought and bought some little things for my nephews. I need to go buy my mom's present today, then I am almost caught up. I bought myself "Breakfast at Tiffany's" because I was sick and I deserved it, and it is one of my favorite movies.

I shouldn't have gone to Marina's having this cold and all, but I wanted to write a letter to Liuda before a day turned into a month. Now I don't have to feel guilty about it... but it does have to go in the mail. Marina's parents left 2 days ago for her dad's sister's place. She wanted me to spend the night because she was scared. She's a baby sometimes, she was worried that her applications weren't going to make it to the schools she is applying to. I was like, "Marina, my mother is dying but you don't hear me bitching. Stop it." She didn't. Then I was like, "I don't want to see you again until you get your confirmation letters in the mail." Sometimes, she effectively strikes that last nerve of mine because she is always whining about things that really don't matter. "Marina, it's not the end of the world if your applications don't get there."

"Yes it is! That means I'll have to wait another year."

I just don't pity her as well as she pities herself. I can't play the "poor me's" or I would never leave the house, and I have been in such a state before.

Well, Tony just said I could go home, so I think I will so I can go shopping. Zac wants me to take him shopping because he got his car towed, but I think by the time I get my mom's present and then get home, I will be ready for my nap. He's so demanding lately, and I am sick.

December 25, 1997

The smell of lamb hangs heavy in the air still. My mom is laying next to me. When I came home yesterday, I saw her on the toilet and almost lost it. She is so thin now, like she has wanted to be for the past several years. It was almost more then I could handle.

She came in and lied down in her bed and made me start talking to her. And I laid facing her and we talked some more. I got up to leave and I bent down to hug her and she told me it was OK to cry and I couldn't help myself so I just started crying. I told her she was my role-model, and she told me she knew and then I told her she was my hero, and then she was sobbing as well. I just bent over her and let her hold me in her arms and we both cried for a while.

I told her one last time that I love her and got up and left for home. I did not want to wake up this morning from the combination of being emotionally exhausted and this damn cold.

I have seen or heard from most of the people I care about yesterday and today.

Lena, my host mother, called me from Russia today. You could imagine my surprise when I heard her voice. She asked how everyone was and sometimes I forget and think that everybody can understand what I am saying. Then I had everybody yell "Hi Lena" and she was happy to hear the chorus of voices that makes up my family.

I saw Edie yesterday, Jean, Lenny, Melissa, Andy, my family, my nephews, my grandparents and I heard from my e-mail buddies. I don't suppose I will ever have a Christmas like today. My mom wanted a porcelain doll and I gave her three and she cried each time she opened the next one. She bought us dolls last year and she admitted "I guess I was the one that really wanted them." Well, there she blows. She can't keep anything down what so ever. Her doctors told her there was nothing they could do for her so I suppose they are content with letting her starve to death instead of opening her up again. Granny said today that they fucked up on Pop's surgery like this there the tube didn't heal properly so it closed and he couldn't eat, but his tube was easily accessible since they moved his stomach up to his shoulder blade.

Mom liked her video a lot. She cried, yet again. Anne kept telling mom how young she looked and how pretty her skin looks. I am very happy that she has such beautiful skin because I have inherited it. She's 52 and she doesn't have a wrinkle. Her skin is sagging, but she doesn't have any wrinkles.

I wanted a Barbie so I could hook her up to my lap-top and make her say vile things, and I suppose tomorrow I will try to find her. If she won't say vile things, then I will return her ass.

Mom gave me money and books, Anne gave me perfume, Lesli gave me a mug and a calendar, Granny and Pop gave me more money, Thomas gave me a painting. I didn't desire much of anything, I never do because if I can't obtain what ever it is I want by my own means, then it's just not worth having.

I brought my Grover for mom to sleep with. I received Grover many many Christmases ago, back when my parents were still married.

Oh fuck, I have to clean up my site. I just learned about sub-directories and I have everything dumped into one directory, and that is not a good thing.

I am watching "to Kill a Mockingbird" and I know understand that my dad fancies himself to be Atticus, which I find so amusing. I used to want Atticus to be my father as well, and I didn't make the parallel until I heard him call Scout and Jem "chilren." I am sure in his mind, that's who he is, but reality is a totally different story. God knows that as a girl I did have an awful boy's haircut because he would take Anne and me to have our haircut at a barber's shop. I think that is a problem with many people, they fancy themselves to be someone they just aren't and in your mind and on the Internet, you can make yourself seem to be a better person then you really are. I don't pretend to be who I am not. I am just who I say I am, because my life is interesting enough not to have to lie to myself or other people.

Dad grew up having an African American cook too. Her name was Addie. She is the one that taught him how to cook. I suppose she was also the only person that listened to him and his younger brother and sister since my grandparents were too involved with their own lives. The lamb Thomas prepared for dinner was made Addie style, with the best gravy. He tried a new sauce this year as well. It was a wine sauce, with portebella mushrooms that took 2 days to cook. It was fancy, and yummy, but I prefer the old stuff. We also had Crescent rolls, wild rice, peas (YUCK), and mashed potatoes with the skins still on them. It was yummy and Granny made turkey and dressing, cranberry jello and cake. Too bad Thomas didn't prepare dessert...

The new cheese commercial kicks ass. "Mommy, Daddy, Santa came, hurry up."

"Whoa, those must have been some cookies."

"I didn't leave him cookies. I LEFT HIM CHEESE."

How funny.

December 27, 1997

Talk with me Barbie sucks. Her $100 ass made it's way back to computer city. You can't program her to say what you want her to say, no matter what the advertising said. I spent the better part of the night trying to get her to work last night, yes her batteries were in correctly, she just didn't say what I wanted her to say.

I wanted people to walk up to my desk and have her say "I like girls." Or even better "I like giving head." Alas... my dream of hearing Barbie say such things is shattered and I should sue Mattel for false advertising. That's the problem with today's society. Every girl is so programmed that when they hear such things as the word cunt they go into hysterics. I was looking around trying to find books about the word cunt and you know, I haven't really seen it printed that much even though since the latter part of this century it was allowed to be printed.

I bought a book that speaks about the word... and let me enlighten you. If your girlfriend is being a cunt and you don't want to hurt her feelings, perhaps you should lightening it up by using one of the following diminutives: "cuntkin," "cunnicle," "cunny," or my personally favorite, "cuntlet." Yes waiter, I would like a cuntlet with a side of peas.

If you don't feel comfortable calling her any of these terms of endearment, maybe you should try "sharp and blunt," "name-it-not," and again with my favorite euphemism, good ol "grumble and grunt."

"Cunting" is fucking.

If you want to use cunt as a derogatory term for a man, call him a "cunt-hound." "Get your damn paws off me you cunting cunt-hound."

When in the throughs of passion and you are sick of saying those tired old dirty words, you could scream out.. "Oh... you are such a naughty cunt-lapper." Or you can call your best lesbian friend a "lip-lapper." (Thank you thank you, I just made that one up.) "Cunt-sucker" can also be used, but I feel this should be used only on those special occasions.

So... now that you have heard the word cunt, doesn't it just make you want to jump on the "cunt-wagon?"

A cunt stretcher isn't what you think it is... it's a term for an erection.

December 28, 1997

I spent the day with one of the most important men in my life today. Well, since he's only 4 he's not really a man but a boy. Nate is my oldest nephew. I suppose all of Louisville decided it was a good idea because we had to stand in line for a half an hour at an 18 theater duplex with about 8 open box offices. They sold out of tickets for Mouse Hunt so we went and saw Mr. Magoo first and then Mouse Hunt. It was a nice change. I had been meaning to do something like that with him for about two months now, because I am hoping to be in California next year.

Mom and Lesli live next door to one another, so I walked him over there and came back. I enjoyed the cold air going in my nose and brushing against my cheeks. I hate the cold air. I hate being cold. I hate everything about it when it gets this cold. I heard from Roman today... and he told me it was -30 in Volgograd. I think I would rather have my left tit cut off then spend numerous winters freezing my left tit off. I love snow for about 2 days, and after that, I can't stand the crunch of snow beneath my feet. I suppose the sound of it is comparable to hearing fingernails running down a blackboard for people that can't stand that sound. Nor can I stand how dirty and disgusting it starts to get in the city. I don't so much mind staying inside, but the appeal of having little weather change is almost worth the threat of being in an earthquake.

I have already been in an earthquake once. We were watching TV downstairs more then 10 years ago and we heard what sounded like furniture moving. We later heard on the news that there was an earthquake that actually registered on the Richter scale. So, I have been through one, just not one that would cause any permanent damage to anything. Kentucky is on one of the worst fault lines so if it ever decided to move, Ft. Knox would be history.

A tornado ripped through our house when we lived on Hill Crest Avenue. I was just a baby. I remember going to the basement after that whenever there was a warning. Mom told me the other day that we were watching Presto the Clown when that one happened.

I have driven in the rain when as soon as it was wiped away you couldn't see again. That's fun.

Can't think of any other natural disasters I have been in. Oh... who can forget "Winter Storm 94" when there was so much snow the state closed down for a week. I liked it when there was that much snow, up to my chest, that was cool. That was a "let's pretend I'm in Russia" week, except Kentuckians are a bunch of pussies that weren't used to that much snow so even grocery stores were closed from Sunday until Thursday. It was so bad that sales of 4x4s increased and now you see them every where.

Has it snowed since... well, not really. I took a picture of the snow last year to show Lena, my host mother in Russia, and it was as if the sky had just sneezed a part of itself on the ground.

Marina was trying to convince me that I should go to school in New York, but if I hate the cold so much, why would I torture myself up North? That would be right for Marina, since she is Russian, but I am like a hothouse flower, and maybe one month in that kind of weather would be enough, but not my entire winter. It's kind of like having kids. I love Colin, and I love my nephews, but I sure as hell don't want one of my own right now.

I also think yummy weather would be an advantage to my personality. I think that it's important to realize that bad days exist, but I hate that the weather affects my mood. And if I will be happy most of the time because of the weather, then I will accomplish more.

I have decided that the orchid is my favorite flower now. It is an evolved form of a lily, and that's how I see myself. Lilies are representative of the female genitalia and I feel that I am more evolved then most since I understand more about myself and my body. Plus they aren't so easy to maintain, but when they are cut, they last a while and keep their shape.

December 29, 1997

Zac is sitting here with me now. He came by this morning and told me that one of the windows in his apartment was busted out and he sounded like death and he wants to stay here with me for a few days since his lease is up soon. So we laid in bed when he came back and I just talked and talked about all the stuff going on with me.

Zack and Kevy broke up. I was most unhappy about this because they seemed like such a great couple, but I think being so good was getting to be hard on Kevin because you can only have people think you are wonderful for so long before all that falls apart and they see you for who you really are. I feel so bad for Zack because there aren't that many people he can talk to that understand that kind of stuff where he is living. He was here in town and we missed each other because I was at mom's so I got an e-mail from him this morning and I just felt that I should call him, and I am glad I did, because this is something we have both have been through and we are both flabbergasted. Well, I love him, and even if that isn't so important to him now, at least he knows I wrote it down.

He's one of the hardest people to get to know, but he is so worth knowing because he is so dear. He brought me a gallon of milk from the airport when I got home from Russia. We were sleeping together in his bed, so I could make the adjustment to being back in the states and the alarm went off and he slapped my butt to get me to go turn off the alarm, which I though was hilarious. Then another night we were both asleep and our arms were tangled together and he gently stroked my arm and it was such a show of tenderness because it was meant to be for someone else, and he forgot I was in bed with him and when he realized it, he smacked my butt. He's a great man, and I admire him so much.

I told Dave that I didn't want to tell him he had to get rid of his dog, but I also told him about a month ago the dog was going to have to go. I came in from my mom's last night and was like "we need to talk. My mom is dying and you need to be one of the least of my concerns right now. I can't deal with you not paying me rent on time and freaking out about my bills and shit, and the dog. I don't want to tell you you have to get rid of it. Have thought about what you are going to do with him?"

"Duuuu... no."

"Well, I can't deal with this shit anymore so..."

"I guess I will have to find a new place to live. I'll get right on it." Now, I realize that my "get right on it" and the majority of the populations "get right on it" are two totally different things. I actually get right on it. His idea was to go sit on his ass in his bedroom and watch TV, not go get a paper and look for a place to live.

The poor dog, it's emaciated as it is but since it was in the kennel, it's just tragic. I don't understand why he wants to keep the fucking dog anyway. He doesn't give it enough attention so it's a spaz. It's the perfect metaphor for his relationship. He got the dog for his ex and well, they broke up. Now he mopes around the house and I detest that when people feel sorry for themselves over fallen relationships. I suppose he thinks that if he keeps this dog and loves it, she'll come back to him and I just don't see it happening. It's easy for me to see what problems he had in his relationship with this woman by the way he treats the dog.

It's just not that he mopes around the house, he gets fucked up and lays on his ass all day and won't do anything to get out of his predicament, he won't pull himself out of it, and I just have no tolerance for this kind of behavior because it's bullshit.

Now, you are probably asking yourself "Cathy, Zack is fucked up now, why do you have compassion for him?" Well, Zack is motivated and actually doing something with his life. Dave is just a loser that failed out of school this semester and has allowed his emotions to affect his every action so that he sits on his ass like a lump on a log. I have no respect for that in a person, I suppose it is one of my fears and that is why I don't want it to happen to me.

No, even better. I watched as my mom got sick and let that one cocksucker get her on her knees and beg for her children. She had no life after he totally ruined her self-esteem and self-confidence. I refuse to allow ANYONE to have that kind of power over me, no matter how strong my emotions are because I watched my mom suffer and that is the simple reason why I can't stand it. She never got over my father, and I hate her for not realizing her worth outside of that marriage.

And I hate myself for seeking that kind of love where there is a "no holds barred." Where that passion and recklessness that accompanies those feelings can destroy much easier then bind. But I am young still, and there is plenty of time to find that person that drives me insane while I have total control as well.

On that note, I spent last night after I told Dave with Jen and Roxell. It was good seeing her . We stayed for a few hours and then Roxell and I were going to go to Denny's or Steak and Shake but ended up driving to Indianapolis instead to Perkins at 2 am. It was much more intimate then just sitting across each other in a restaurant and getting to know each other and not as personal because we were both watching the road for the 5 hour trip there and back. He's definitely interesting and it's strange because he is the first guy that I have sought here since I broke up with Andy. And he's so damn aggravating because I can tell he likes me from the photo we took at Sparks together. The third picture where he is staring at me says it all. I just refuse to make any moves on him because I came on way too strong when I was first interested in him back in September, so I am leaving it up to him and he is content with torturing me and himself. Maybe the agony of waiting is worth it, but I am tired of playing the good girl and bored with jacking off.

December 30, 1997

I started off the day at the vet. Cootie was in a cat fight and I didn't know he was bitten so his front arm was swollen and he was just laying around last night and it bothered me enough to take him to the vet this morning. There is this big fucking Tom cat and I made the mistake of being nice to it back when I first moved in here 2 years ago (March) and it so strange how simple acts of kindness can haunt you.

The vet told me when he usually sees the cats their whole arm is infected and he has to lance it and draw the infection out. So, he gave him a shot and hopefully I won't have to go through all that shit. He won't let me wrap it like the vet told me to so I gave him kitty drugs that will make him more receptive in allowing me to do what I need to do.

My room-mate is the biggest fucking asshole. He was playing darts last night. Well, he missed on occasion. He has the fucking thing hooked on the back of the door. I hate that mother fucker. Not even I am that disrespectable. What the fuck ever. My inclination is to take all his shit and throw it out in the snow, but he owes me money, naturally. His locked his fucking dog in the room and it fucking reeks in that shit hole of a room. I am so tolerant of so much... it goes back to the premise of being nice.

I felt sorry for him because he was driving from Lexington to here everyday. He seemed nice enough, little did I know. I got a phone call from his last room-mate and he wanted $600 back when he first moved in. I had no clue what I had gotten into. LICC, the place that was sponsoring Roman, wouldn't let me host him unless I had a room-mate so it all seemed like a good idea. He did help some with the rent, but he's not worth the aggravation.

Fuck it, he'll be gone and out of my life (for the most part) by the end of the week.

So when Zac and I returned from the vet, his landlord called. I would have died if that asshole was my landlord. I know Zac can be abrasive and hard to deal with, but this guy was implacable. Zac's apartment is unlivable right now... It doesn't take a genius to figure that out. So this asshole was so cruel for no reason.

Zac hadn't said anything awful to him and I could hear this... asshole over the phone.

"You are a whiner. You are full of shit. I am bringing an inspector to see how bad it is. I only want YOU to be happy."

I have a feeling Zac is a thorn in his side and he will just be happier to have him gone.

Then I went to Jean's and I was "not welcome" because I was so late from taking my cat to the vet. What the fuck ever. Then she tried to be nice to me after I cleaned and I was just like, what the fuck ever. I could donate plasma and get more money then helping her. I have mainly just been around because Jen asked me to do it and she can be fun to be around. She is just going to have to realize, I work on my own agenda and I do good work, but I have to go at my own pace.

Well, Zac is on the couch, and I think it's time to go for a cocktail. It's been one of those days and I just think I need something to deal with Dave so I am not my father when he comes home. I think I will go all out and put on make up even.

I have to have a digital camera... I just have to!

SHIT! I just now realized that tomorrow is fucking New Year's Eve.

Pure
Photography

PHOTOS\

Dr. Block's

Nature

Cubes

Europe

Portraits

Fantasy

Dying

Kazantip

Birthday

Russia '96

Russia

London '99

Stills '98