November 1, 1997
Gone to DC... be back on Monday.
November 2, 1997
Mom and I started our day off at the Holocaust museum. Now... That whole thing really pissed me off... Overall, the museum sucked because it assumed you didn't know what the hell the Holocaust was, but it did get better as time wore on. We went through the "Daniel" exhibit and I was appalled that I was being talked down to so much. I believe anyone that has been alive, oh, for the past decade would know what happened during the Holocaust unless they were Amish. I know I was 8 when I found the book that showed the camp survivors and other stuff on our shelves at home.
So, I was pissed because they act as though just Jews were killed in those camps and mention in the captions that gypsies and political opponents of Hitler were killed. Mom couldn't take the part about the children, but it didn't bother me as bad. I mean it did bother me, because children are so... innocent.
What enrages me the most is that they asked us to remember the children, and yet, did we bother to remember the Serbs or Croats? I didn't know that shit was going on and it happened again not 3 years ago. Was anybody there to help those children? Has anybody helped them to date? I don't know, I learned about it after the fact and at this point in my life, I am powerless to do anything... BUT this will change.
So, I wonder, that asshole that did the concentration camps recently was in one as well when he was a child, that's how he learned to be so brutal. What kind of monster was created in the interment camps this decade?
I don't understand how so many people could just follow that... regime into their death. I was comforted to find out that there were people that fought, but how often have you heard of these people? This is one of those reasons I DETEST religion... how many of those people that died actually believed their God was doing this to them on purpose? I will never know. I do know that once the trauma of being so poorly abused is over, you start to understand what the fuck happened to you and you feel so guilty because some how , some way, you are responsible for being abused, and you wear that hurt like a badge, thinking everyone can see it.
What absolutely disgusted me the most was the shoes. They had piles and piles of shoes from the dead that smelled so disgusting I was nauseated. That was pretty horrible and it bothered me a lot. I barely got a chance to look at them it grossed me out so bad.
There was one exhibit of Auschwitz that was pretty powerful. It showed how people were dismembered, total desecration of the dead. People floating in vats of something as though they were anatomically correct dolls left in a bathtub, waiting for a little girl to finish bathing them. It was pretty horrible, but fascinating at the same time.
I think what disturbed me the most was watching a bulldozer push bodies into an open pit. Watching their heads loll around without any muscle control.
Since I have been through what I have been through, there are some things that I would have included in the gift shop. Such as postcards of "I survived the Holocaust museum" or those Lego sets from Auschwitz to "remember the children." (you may think that I am sick, and you are allowed to think that because I make fun of my mom, to her face... like saying... Gee mom, it's a good thing you went to the bathroom and sat on the seat first so I don't have to worry about picking anything up (because the Chemo she is on is so strong it would kill ANYTHING but her...) and then there's the classic... when my mom and sister were both on Chemo we didn't have to turn on the light to find the toilet at night...) There has to be a breaking point where you just can not be depressed and solemn about ANYTHING, and that includes WWII. Holocaust Consignments... shoes for a $1... real leather...
The *highlight* of Mom's day was when the author of Exodus Calling , Nissan Degani, stood up and kissed her after he signed a book for her. I couldn't get over it! It was too funny and if you knew my mom, Victorian Southern Woman, you would have laughed your ass off watching this scene. "I don't understand why he did that," she said later "he didn't do it to that woman in front of us." She cracks me up. I think she thinks she has the word CANCER tattooed on her head so everyone knows she is sick. Plus 12 years of abuse led her to believe that she is unattractive because she has some meat on her bones... but she is from that "booming" generation. She's not at all unattractive for her age and I thank God everyday I inherited her skin because she has yet to wrinkle at age 52, but then again... that could be the Chemo...
We moved on to the Women's museum... what a let down. Not to say the exhibits sucked... as a matter of fact, they have a pottery exhibit there right now and it was funny because they were playing a video I had watched in Ceramics. The pottery was amazing and the museum was amazing... it had the most marble I have seen since Moscow. But it was a tiny museum, and I suppose that cunts aren't as much of an attraction as anything else in the city, such as the bums.
Speaking of which... why do women hate each other? I mean, whenever you hear about a man that is going through a divorce, you pity him and blame the woman for the divorce... I know I have done it, I think it about my own mom, but that is erroneous information. That is societal bullshit crammed down our throats. And why do women secretly hate one another. It can't ONLY be competition...
We continued on to the National Gallery of Art for some mind numbing viewing of the Impressionists. That's OK... we probably needed it and Mom wanted me to see it. I drug her to see the Modernists stuff, and I was happy... there was one Kandanski. The Picasso's were cool... but I think if I ever start making money, I will support artists that are living today instead of dead artists.
We came back to the hotel after being lost for about 10 minutes. I don't like the layout of this city, it's a little too complicated for me and after being in Moscow for some time, that's saying a lot coming from me. I worked on my resume as she slept. I was proud of her! She didn't barf all DAY! Her appointment is tomorrow, so we will got to the NIH for them to say, "OK... see you next week."
We watched Oprah's movie. It made me sad because I am so sick of these fucking happy corn flake endings where oh... life is swell and everything somehow works out. YOU KNOW and I KNOW that that shit just ain't true. But you haven't heard that from me...
November 3, 1997
I just got home. Mom's appointment was at 2:30, we were seen at 5:20, and our plane left for 6ish originally, but we had to take the 9:40 flight which landed at 11:20. I didn't sleep well last night, so needless to say I am exhausted. I will write more tomorrow. The only thing I have to say is it's amazing how a doctor can act when they are a group of them working for the same cause... I would say overworked, but they were overworked. And upbeat! Man they were upbeat for being oncologists.
November 4, 1997
So... kissing the ceramics professor's ass doesn't seem to work... I will have to sink to a lower level of getting on her good side. Just when I think she adores me, she gets all pissed about me cussing or saying something else. I told her about going to the Women's museum in Washington, and I thought she would be happy, but it didn't phase her. I guess not having a permanent residence is bothering her a lot. Well, she found a good place and things will calm down.
I suppose if I were in her position I would not be a happy camper either. I was however, with my mom all weekend and she doesn't understand personal space, but that was ok, she only really bothered me when she kept telling me where to go on the expressway "Thomas missed the airport"
"Mom, I am not Thomas, I read the signs."
"Did you read that sign?"
"No."
"It said the airport is blah blah blah...yada yada yada..."
By the time we made it to the airport, I wanted to wring her neck. But that was temporary. This is a prime example of what Chemo does to your brains. I don't think Mom actually realized all the shit she was saying, which maybe she has always been like that. Which touches on one of my pet peeves, not thinking before you speak. I know I do it on occasion, but most people do it all the time... there I go generalizing again.
Some dude wrote in my guestbook that I shouldn't be so hard on my mother because she something or another. Well, when she was first dying, she wanted all her kids around her, which is nice, but after 4 years, that shit gets old, especially since we don't get along and after 7 years, I was like "I am not the one dying, you are." She wields her Cancer as a doctor wields his finely sharpened scalpel for a vasectomy, carefully and effectively, with such exactness to cut and mame when she so chooses. She knows how to make us feel sorry for her and I have finally said, "Fuck it" this is my life, I have my own fucking health problems and other problems as well so I am now going to deal with ME. That's one of the reasons I couldn't deal with the way Andy and I were.
But I am evolving and I don't regret anything about my life... well... so far...
November 5, 1997
I started off the day at my first job, and I couldn't figure out why I was so fucking moody and sad. Then I realized I was PMSing and I had taken one of my power pills and was tired and stupid. I took a class called sex crimes last year and we had a trans sexual come and speak to us. He said that the difference of his brain in testostarone and when it as on estrogen are like night and day, and that he would NEVER go back to having just estrogen. God he was a handsome man...
I am getting used to my roommate, although the dog needs a bath. It's a good thing that dog is so cute.
I spent quality time with Melissa and Colin tonight. I feel so good. Content I suppose. It's nice caring so much for a little man and having him totally dependent on you. I fed and diapered him... asked him about Kafka... he wasn't into that so we discussed a little Jung. He's a month tomorrow and I still can't believe he is here.
I have to clean and get my house in order for Satan, or at least that is what Roman looks like in the photocopy of his photograph. I am sure he is gonna be surprised how Russian I am gonna treat him. His English is so good (or so he says) and my Russian is so bad. I bet he won't let me speak much Russian. Oh well.
I'm going to go bond with Dave...
November 6, 1997
I talked to Dave until late last night. I don't envy him... he's in one of those awful transitions in his life where he doesn't know what he wants to do with himself. I pity him to a certain degree because he hasn't learned that you can't put yourself totally into one person or you will be let down. He was really in love with his girl-friend, but it looks like it's not going to work out. I hope it does, he seems to be a nice enough guy.
So I tried to go to class this morning and failed miserably. And I had a migraine to boot so I have been sitting here feeling like shit, nauseated from what ever it is that nauseates me when I have a migraine. I have so much shit to do, but it's such a disgusting day and every muscle in my body is sore for some reason. I think I will just go crawl back into bed and try to rid myself of this headache. I have so much shit I need to do... sometimes, I don't like it that my body pushes back.
November 7, 1997
I lost all my mail yesterday. For some reason, my Internet mail crashed and I hadn't saved my messages for a couple of weeks and that put me in a foul mood for starters. Hanging out with Andy, having a headache didn't help and eating with Zac was an adventure.
He punished me for being flighty. On Halloween, I didn't follow his agenda, so he was being an ass and didn't meet me at Sparks on purpose. He finally caved in and called me and asked me out, I don't know why I agreed, oh, I was hungry and what the hell, I needed the abuse and sitting around all day got old. So we, Andy and myself, went to meet him. He loves to hurt me in his petty ways, but I anticipated his torment (which was not for me but Andy) several weeks ago and I told Andy if he ever said anything about a certain subject, don't listen to him. I actually give him credit... it took about 3 times to ever say anything and he didn't get the reaction he wanted. I am sure he is disappointed, but Andy is stable in many ways and he can tell petty bullshit when he sees it.
I came home and tried to put my house in order, and I suppose I succeeded to a certain point. I will give Zac this, we love to feed off one another, and we know how to hurt each other just enough so we can feel. We keep each other on our toes. He gave me the greatest idea... Channel Cathy... he tried to use a remote to turn me off and now, I have this wonderful idea I am going to do.
I put up with him, even though sometimes it hurts too much for me to deal with him. That's when I become a flake. I was hurt the other day when someone I knew tried to say that I only illicit bad reactions in people. I talked it over with someone else and came to the conclusion that he doesn't have any self confidence, and that's why he said that, to bring me down.
I don't know if you think I am a strong person by just reading this shit, but I have toned myself down here and can be much worse in real life, and I can not understand why it scares men, but it does. There is only one guy I haven't scared or who hasn't tried to temper my personality or hasn't tried to force his personality on to me and that is Andy. So I do honestly respect that of him because I can be honery at times. Make that 2 men because Jacinta's father likes me for me, he was a great man, very accepting. I admire him a lot.
I started to get into an argument with another Russian student about how guys talk about wanting girls like me but once they have them, and they realize we aren't necessarily high or low maintance, but constant maintance, they don't know what to do. He was going to argue, but not in front of our professor. I was like, "whatever, get some balls, she's heard it all before." But he still wouldn't do it.
Then I told him, another fellow, and our professor about the first and last time I have been harassed. If you didn't go to my personal section, go now and you will see that I am well endowed. Well Bobby Wayne, this boy I was working with at a movie theater 5 years ago kept begging to "Touch my titties" and he finally cornered me when I was signing out one evening, just the two of us. He was standing behind me and I reached around and grabbed his cock and said "All right, you first." The shit eating grin disappeared off his face and he couldn't BELIEVE what I had just done. I will never forget the look on that man's face as long as I live, as though I had violated him. Russian boy said that any guy would have been happy, but when it comes down to it, it's OK for these kind of men to touch a woman, but when a woman does it, god forbid.
November 10, 1997
Oh no!!!
I lost it all... well, not all of it, I'll fix it later tonight... Just the gibberish
Does anybody have a gun?
(ed. I found the above dates today, September 22,1998, while cleaning my files)
November 12, 1997
Well, when I get an opportunity to catch my breath, I will update my journal. I have so much shit going on that I can't keep my hand in the cookie jar.
I have to finish my application to Cal Arts, work on my ceramics projects, finish my video... what else... I can't possibly think of everything... I need to clean up my page as well for my Computer Art coarse and walk through Louisville for my Art in Public places class... I suppose it is a good thing to do this not only because Roman, my Russian guest, is here and would like to get a closer look at the city but because I hope to be in California next year this time...I suppose I will know for sure next year.
So, Roman is so cool. I am surprised by him every day and he has only been here for 5 days. We do something new everyday and I haven't had much sleep since he got here. I suppose my Russian is better then I thought because I am able to explain stuff to him in Russian so he understands what's going on in English, but that is few and far between.
But it's still not like I speak it perfectly. He told me last night when he was dealing with other Americans in Russia as a joke to himself he would repeat their mistakes back to them as if they were right and he told me "I haven't done this with you." And I said "good, don't, because if you do I will make fun of your English." and he was surprised to think that it could go both ways.
I brought him to my Ceramics class, and the prof was not happy in the slightest, but that's OK. He couldn't believe how awful American women dressed. He asked why the girls don't wear short skirts and stuff and I said "we are not objects of your desire."
"Then how do they expect to get a man?"
"Well, if a man wants someone, then he is going to have to look harder." Besides, I don't think that it is fair that women in general have to put so much into the way they look and a man can look like hell and be like, that's ok... This may sound contradictory to what I have said before but there are limits to what is acceptable and what isn't and it's different for every person.
I told this to my Russian professor today and she said "All women want to be objects of desire." But she is old Russian with older customs and beliefs. Do I want to be the object of men's desire... well, yes and no. I want to be valued for my mind as well but... God this is tough... where can you draw the line? I am proud to admit that I am a feminist and I enjoy keeping the men on their guard, but... I don't know... I just don't know.
What I find most intriguing about him is that there aren't the bullshit games there that Americans tend to play with one another because I found myself with all my defenses up and now, I feel like I don't need them because he is a good person and he's not into all that bullshit that Americans play off one another. I suppose that is also why American men are attracted to Russian women because they don't have to break through the barriers we all put up to protect ourselves.
He's made some other observations about life that I never thought of. When we went swimming the other night, he was like, "Wow, all the houses are spread way out." And I told him because as a culture we are isolationists and he said "That is why you have so many psychos here." And I happen to agree with him there. I know for a fact that Isolationism is an easy way to set up and abuse power, and if I think how easy it was for my dad to do it, then just think how bad our own government is doing it. Sure, they have provided us with so much, but it's like a relationship that is in it's first stages of divorce. Our government doesn't trust it's people so they have to hide secrets from us for our "protection." And it's not like I am nuts or into conspiracies, it's just think of the inefficiency that it has set up for itself.
Ah, fuck that noise, I don't want to get all hypothetical.
I am enjoying myself throughly and enjoying life and trying to think of the next adventure, even washing clothes for him was an adventure and it's so funny (not haha) because he is an adult and I get to see what life must be like for kids when new stuff is all around them. Over there, you have to wash clothes by hand for the most part and I told him I could get his jeans real clean with the aid of Surf and bleach. He didn't believe me until I handed them to him and they were so clean. He says he's not going through culture shock so much, but I don't really know if I believe him. I suppose because he can come home and talk to me, it makes life a lot easier because he can express himself in Russian and I understand.
November 13, 1997
Last night we went to a nudie bar and I was just astounded. I didn't know what to expect, I mean I have friends that are strippers and stuff, but these girls were totally nude, sticking their cunts into stranger's faces, taking their faces in between their breasts. I was astounded. I just don't understand how a girl can do such a thing, but then again, I am somewhat naive.
Roman was talking about how this one girl was better then the others because of this or that and I was just like, you are looking at her like she is an object and that was so degrading. Then he started talking about how it was an art form and I was like, bullshit. Then he said that men need this kind of stimulation and I said "and women don't get tired of looking at the same dick all the time?" So tactful... You know that the ratio of women to men is much higher in Russia and he wanted to have strippers dance at his club. I said that I thought it would be more profitable for him to have males and he said that the females didn't have much money. I was so mad I took him to go see the Full Monty.
After we saw it, I don't know if he put things in perspective or not. With that movie, you get to see what the guys are going through and why they are struggling to do what they did. With the girls, I suppose since they are real, you don't so much get a sense that they are people and I understood some stuff a little better. A lot of his thinking is cultural, and I understand that, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't be exposed to some kind of Feminism while he is here. I am not so totally feminist, but I do believe that there should be some form of equality.
So... that takes me to another tangent... why should something that is not real have a greater impact then something that is real?
Hmmm...
I am kind of sad today. It started to rain a lot and I woke up early, around 4 am and didn't fall back asleep until 6. Needless to say I missed my computer class yet again. I went to Ceramics and I asked this girl how she could afford to wreck her new car and then buy a new one and she told me how her mother died from a brain tumor, that was benign. I kid and joke about my infliction all the time, like, they drained my cyst and pumped it back up with air so now I am an airhead... and when I think about this poor girl's mother, it makes me sad. Then I think about myself and I know someday I will have to have that fluid drained again, and I get somewhat sad. I don't think I really pity myself, but why does life have to be so un fucking fair to me? I want some good things to happen and I know only I can cause for them to happen, but I know I will always have in the back of my mind that I am sick and I sure as hell don't want to die like I have heard some people dying from these kinds of things, and I don't want to have brain cancer.
Fuck I am tired and way too stressed out.
November 15, 1997
I am exhausted and it's my own damn fault. I have been running like a chicken with my head cut off. I threw a little party for Roman last night. I suppose I should have invited more people that I know, but... I just didn't. Most of my Russian class showed up, that was nice. Trisha came as well as Ronnie. How can I explain the Trisha and Ronnie thing... well, I cared a lot for both of them before we went to Russia, but they hurt my feelings so bad I have vowed never to let anybody that close to me again. I can deal with Ronnie, well, more then deal, I still enjoy his company, but I refuse to let either one of them close to me again. I don't need that hurt again. Ronnie makes me laugh to myself because he is realizing little things about life, like when you smile and are friendly, people are nice to you.
I'm babysitting Colin right now. Melissa decided to go out to a party that involved all the people she went to college with. I'm glad because I got to either a)eat free food b)do my laundry or c) sit back and relax some. OK, so I did all 3. Roman can't believe I wanted to do laundry. He's so cute... He was like "I hate that Americans change their clothes so much. Do you notice when people don't change their clothes?"
I was like, "Yes, we sure do." Then I told him a story about 2 of the girls in my ceramics class that saw each other one day after the other and one of them had the same shirt on and the other girl noticed. Ahh.... American culture.
I am so tired. I'm glad Colin isn't a whiney baby. Actually, not only is he the cutest baby on the planet, but he seems to be the most well behaved at this point. He's so cute. When he's awake, he's always looking around at everything. It's like he's absorbing everything.
I took Roman to Sam's today. I lost him and started to go crazy because I had no idea where he was and I combed the building up and down. When I found him, he didn't even think anything of it. I don't think I would have even cared but when we first arrived, he was like, I will be back here in 15 minutes... 2 hours later I found him.
God, I am watching this awful thing about Girls night out on Lifetime. It's horrible. It's 3 years old and it's got a bunch of dumb cunts on it, namely Sally Kirkland. I would think that she would be a feminist or something, but I don't think she's really up to par... Oh god, Tanya Harding jokes.
So there is this girl at the organization that Roman came here with and she decided to talk about how "rough" I am. So, I don't know if she realized that we talk to one another and we trust one another. She's one of those girls that is as artificial as her hair color. She told him a bunch of shit about how she didn't marry a man... even though he had lots of money... because she didn't love him. She isn't that type of girl, she would have married him if he had asked. I am just not happy with this... lady... because she was imposing her American values on to him, thank God he saw right through it.
He doesn't like her at all, and I can't say I blame him because she is so shallow and I suppose I won't help this organization out again... no, that's not right. I don't mind hosting so much, and there will be a group of Russians that don't speak any English coming soon and I already said I would help. I am just going to bring it to her attention that I knew what she said about me, and make her extremely uncomfortable when I do it.
Which brings me to another point. Why don't people tell one another what they think? I mean, I would love to see this girl have at least "balls" to tell me that I am "rough," Not that her opinion matters a whole hell of a lot because she is sheep.
Uhhh.... yeah, so, I am going to go pass out on the couch.
November 18, 1997
I am not too happy today. Actually, I don't know how I am sitting here in my computer art class at this moment. I suppose it's a good thing that Roman's professional appointment was on campus so it made me come here.
They admitted mom into the hospital last night. I was too tired to even go see her. I have been running like a chicken... but you know that. I don't know if I do this so I don't have to think about how awful life is or if I want to experience everything. Probably a little bit of both. I also suppose I do this because my mom didn't have any money after the divorce and my dad never really took an interest in me, so I never got to dance and do all the shit little girls get to do. Not that that bothers me so much now, either, because I would just jump on my dirt bike and ride the streets.
I don't regret that I wasn't like other little girls any longer, I just know I will give more to my own kids because I think that kind of shit is important. Actually, I don't regret much of anything... Life is for the living so quit your bitching and go on.
I told him as I was leaving him that I was sad and he said he was sad as well and then I asked him why and he said "because you are sad." I almost burst into tears. I don't know how it came to be that he is sincerely the nicest guy I have ever meet. That's not meaning that he can't be an asshole, he is insulting in just the right way, I suppose like I am... Maybe we are really twins separated at birth... and 3 years and 3 days.
He went and had some business cards made at a local place that shall remain nameless to protect the innocent, or guilty for that matter. I told him that we would do it one day but he is impatient like me and his business host probably didn't know what to do with him so he took him to nameless store to have them done. Of coarse I only know a million people that work at nameless place so I called and canceled his order, because it was expensive, and we went up there after I took a nap yesterday and got to do them for a considerably lower amount of money. I was grateful, even though it took about 2 hours, Roman was happy and my friend Sean, was happy because he got a lighter out of it from Moscow, one of those non-child proof lighters.
As we were leaving, Roman pulled all but to the middle of the road at a stop light and he couldn't believe I made him stop and I told him there were cops abound and I don't think he believed me but since he was in the middle of the road, guess who drove by but an officer of the law. I was like, this isn't Russia, you can't break these traffic rules. He was ready to get out of the car and offer him a bribe. "Well, I still have a lighter." I tried to explain that he didn't offer this guy a bribe or anything. I'm sure the cop looked at his license in Cyrillic and was like, "I ain't fucking with this mother fucker." If he even knew it was Russian. What Roman doesn't seem to understand, and maybe I just now figured it out for myself, is that people are scared of Russians now because they are notorious gangsters, and let's just say that he definitely could pass for a gangster in my opinion.
So, we got home and he got off with a warning. I told him that he needs to listen to me, that I know what I am talking about. Next time he wants something, he only has to tell me and we will find an easier way to get whatever, instead of going about it the so straight and narrow... "you have to know the rules before you can break them" I say to him everyday.
I think she is going to have surgery today to remove part of the tumor or something. No food or water is going down and in lieu of what happened just a month ago... I don't know... I just don't know. I can't deal with this shit much longer.
We finished talking last night about some of the girls he knows. He was telling me about this one girl that was at his school and she went to Turkey and Greece to basically sell herself. She came back home and her "eyes were empty."
That makes me so sad. I said,"Well, you see what she was going through and you knew what you had to do to build up her confidence and yet you still want to run a nudie bar?" I know one girl that is a stripper, and she seems free and cool and she is pretty fun. I can imagine her not so much feeling like a whore when she does that... I mean we all whore ourselves out to some degree so I can't understand why stripping bothers me now that I have actually seen it. I can take good photos of naked people and it doesn't bother me, but I suppose that since it is an intimate arena then it means more somehow? I don't know...
I feel sorry for Russian women. They have a reputation that surpasses them and it will be hard to live down for years to come. Although on the bright side, it is definitely an interesting time for Russia, to see her change.
We drove out to the "provinces" On Sunday and I showed him how my grandparents live. I think he was amazed to see that it was not like the Russian village, which I thought was a dated myth that is still true today. It made him a bit sad not only because of the standard of living, but because of how quiet it is in Danville. I think he realizes his government cheated it's people for far too long.
He wants to change things for his country so we had a little discussion about that. I told him that he couldn't make people change. Shit, the Russians have always done what they have been told and I can't imagine what he thinks now that he gives a shit that others should as well. It's not very easy for people to change because they get too comfortable and comfort is death as far as I am concerned.
He was so optimistic about that, and I understand, and I told him that he couldn't change people. That's why I decided to do film... because I want my ideas to become more available in a medium that is easily accepted. Plus I told him how in the beginning of October I wanted to be a lawyer in Moscow and he said "It's easy to help other countries change, but I need to help my country." And I was like, no... if they don't want to change, they won't, it's that simple.
I am sure he will be successful at whatever he does, he's that type of person. It's just funny to see how someone like me... that is male is more easily accepted then an assertive woman. If I was a guy and I was saying some of this stuff I say here, how much easier would it be for you to accept?
So, remember when I did my big ass load of laundry? There was this guy
that was there and I eyed him and saw him many more times on campus.
Finally, I saw him here in the art building and I got up the nerve to ask
him his name a few weeks ago and today I asked him what he was doing
during the break and I got his phone number. He's pretty beautiful. Now I
just have to get up the nerve to ask him on a date... Life is swell
:)
November 19, 1997
Ah... time to myself... sitting in front of the computer in my granny panties... I suppose it is time to break out the old pedicure set. I like to keep my toenails painted, and when I am in Russia, my fingernails as well so I will remember not to put my fingers in my mouth to bite my nails. I keep them painted this blood red color I found back when I was 16 called Merlin's Flame. I thought I would never find that polish again until one day I found it at the mall. I don't suppose they need to be clipped, because I did that last week, but I do like to keep them at a respectable length.
I am going to the Lords of Acid concert tonight. I have naired my legs to the knees, but I suppose that won't really matter since I will be wearing thigh high suede boots. I want to look like a slut. I tried to explain to Roman that I like to dress up WHEN I WANT to dress up, and the rest of the time, I don't really give a shit.
So... I think it's time to give you boys a lecture again. I don't like it when you think I am so soft hearted and you write to me thinking you can somehow gain some kind of... attention from me, unless you are sincere, you never will break the "titanium shell."
I'm a bitch for a reason.
November 20, 1997
Mom's in surgery right this minute. I am freaking out a little. Actually, I am a little hung over from the Lords of Acid concert last night.
I saw a boy I like there. We dated some, but I scared him away. I still am interested in him even though he's almost weirder then me. Or maybe we are just weird in different ways, I don't know. He was talking about going to tractor pulls last night. I probably looked disinterested, but I was thinking about mom and I was worried about losing Roman so my mind wasn't totally focused on what he had to say and I don't like doing that. Usually when I give some one my attention, I like them to feel it, it shows some consideration.
I think some guy was trying to get my goat the other day by telling me my shit could be taken off the Internet without my permission. Well, at first I was angry because it's MINE, but then I thought, ideas are free. If I am willing to share a miniscule piece of myself with people, then my ideas are rolling around in their head and reformulated into new ideas and I don't so much mind that. All Ideas should be shared, just because you are the only one with them doesn't mean that someone else can't improve on them and make them better or different. I know who I am so it doesn't bother me like it would someone else that was more insecure. When my photos were censored, it caused a back lash in the community and any one that had a strong opinion produced some kind of work afterwards. I am glad that such a negative experience for me turned out to be inspiration to others, and the way I handled it showed that I have class.
I could have sued the art league and all this other shit, but growing up around the law made me realize there are ins and outs to everything and the law is not sacred. I could have put myself on the line even further, and I did call some civil rights places but what good would going to court have done for me?
I was just ready to get that stage of my life over as quickly as possible because it was so painful. There are reasons I have a "titanium" shell and sure I can be soft at the same time, I am only human and I like to feel my emotions even though I don't express them all the time. Well, I am going to go to the hospital now. I don't think she is out of surgery yet, but there is nothing I can do except wait around...
November 21, 1997
I hate feeling this way. I get so paralyzed that I can't do anything except sleep because my emotions are so wound up. I slept and cried most of the day, not necessarily in that order.
I think my mom expects the doctors to open her up and take away all the cancer. They left it all there... where it belongs I suppose. They cut her up and did some kind of by-pass so she could make it through the holidays. I got into a fight with Roman about how I feel about her dying and stuff. He told me I was being selfish and that what I feel is incidental, basically.
No one that has watched someone slowly die in front of them would agree. I realize that he is basically ignorant of this kind of matter and I envy him. No one should have to watch this kind of shit. And it's about fucking time I took my own feelings into consideration since I was just 15 when the majority of this shit started to happen. All this time... I don't feel so sorry for myself, but I would have liked to have the luxury of my mother taken away from me swiftly... but then I suppose I wouldn't be so "strong."
I have heard a lot of people talking about how things make you stronger, and I think that is just a crock of shit, just like when you are thinner you automatically have more energy. I felt the same no matter what weight I am at and I feel the same no matter what I am put through. It doesn't necessarily make me a stronger person, I just exist and go about living in my own certain way. If that is what makes other people seem to think I am some how better, then let it. I just go through life and make decisions about what I enjoy doing and what I don't. It's much simpler that way.
November 23, 1997
I suppose today is the 23rd, everything seems as if it's all a blur. I spent most of the day with mom yesterday. She is optimistic about life as usual. We have tried to tell her that her surgeons have given up on her, but it's not the first time this has happened... although I am sure it is the last. That hanging over my head plus work and school and Roman and Thanksgiving... I am so exhausted I could die, but I do this to myself so I won't have to feel anything.
Yesterday, after I saw mom, Roman and I took off to the outlet malls in Indiana. It was fun. I spent more money then I should, but I was sad and for some reason, spending money always makes me feel better...
I think I am going to move back home. I don't really want to do this, but I do want to be closer to my mom and I do want to save money. I like my roomie and all, but he seems to be unable to help out that much, which is really quite annoying. I am just reasoning this shit out. Although I don't know how much I can stand it because I refuse to do dishes when I live here, or clean up after anybody but myself. I'm sure my grandparents would be happy.
So after we went to the outlet malls, we drove to Lexington. We have driven about 6 hours in the past day. I am beat and Roman is asleep. I suppose this is the only real time I can spend on this page is when he is not around.
We spent the night with Anne. I felt so safe at her place, as if we were little girls again sleeping in the same bed. I have missed her so much. I don't think she is going to treat me like shit anymore and I don't intend on treating her poorly any longer as well. She felt more isolated from the family. Her horses have become her world. I am sad that we were not taught to value each other as sisters should, but there is always time to learn. I mean, we do value one another... but we don't know how to have a normal, loving relationship so that means we have to work extra hard.
I told Roman when he first got here that he was very lucky, little did I know how lucky I have become as well because he can reason some things that I blow out of proportion. If he wasn't here, I wouldn't have been at my sister's last night.
My cunt is bleeding and I don't know if it's because I rode that horse so fucking hard or if my pills aren't working right. I reckon it's a little bit of both. Every fucking muscle in my body is sore from riding today. Anne gave me a quarter horse named Honey to ride. I was riding Western style. Roman rode a Walker and Anne rode her older Thoroughbred. It was a lot of fun and I almost fell off twice. The first time not as bad as the second when my right foot came out of the stirrup and I was speeding down and incline. The main trick to not falling off is holding that horse between your knees, which I must admit, Anne is right, if you can control a 400 pound animal in between your legs, you can do just about anything...
November 24, 1997
I am so exhausted. I am at work right now, awaiting the great Dan to tell me why my code isn't working on a page. I am doing web-designish stuff now and I suppose I would rather be sitting here doing this stuff now then sitting in the hospital.
I called my mom earlier and she was about to vomit and then began to vomit while I was on the phone with her. I can't stand this. The thing of it is I bet she won't die just yet, she will linger and linger and I will have these emotions hanging over my head forever. It's already been ten years...
How could I possibly explain this to someone who has never dealt with this? I don't even have the words to express myself. I look like shit. I went and took a piss and as I was washing my hands I looked at myself in the mirror and I look like someone has built a hotel under my eyes the bags are so big. How did I do this when I was younger? Why am I still embarrassed about it now that I am older?
I'm starting to feel numb again. I hate it when I can't feel anything because that means I can't even feel real pain as well. My headaches will gradually get worse and if I think about it right now, I can feel this one pretty bad. But I don't want to think about it. Today the pain that I am concentrating on the most is my sore muscles. I now understand why Anne stressed the necessity of a sports bra. From where I galloped so hard my bra tore into my shoulders. Ahh... the curse of big tits. Nobody ever talks about how they can sometimes be more of a hindrance. But I suppose the bigger they are the more dominant you appear, or why else would so many women get implants?
I think I figured out the appeal of thinner chicks the other day. Maybe guys can't help it... Maybe it's not just societal but biological as well because bigger chicks look like they are with child. then again, maybe that's just a bullshit excuse as well.
I need to sleep.
Priscilla organized a bowling game last Friday. It was a lot of fun. There we were, a group of about 20 people all fucked up and bowling. I did several spares although I couldn't tell you how today. I could barely stand up. Roman was acting as though he was going to kick my ass, but it didn't work out that way. He did bowl one strike and I was happy for him.
It was funny to see the structure of all the people that were there and the different dichotomies of even such a small group. The people over the drinking age enjoyed themselves much more then the people that were under age. I think when you are younger, you care so much what other people think and what they do and as you get older, you become less inhibited and not so scared to show your personality. Or at least that is the case with a lot of my friends. Although I have a funny way of gauging freedom, and I believe the Russians have much more freedom then we do, they just haven't realized it yet.
I have known Priscilla for 7 years now. That seems so long. I've known Brandi for almost 10... Melissa for 6. All my friends from high school I see every once in a while, but they weren't really friends.
I'm just babbling now... Soon, I may go home.
November 25, 1997
So... yeah. I keep thinking about riding horses. I think I will go back to Lexington this week so I can ride again. My ass is still sore, but I don't care.
It looks like we will be spending Thanksgiving in the hospital. I couldn't even think that far in advance. I called Anne this morning and we talked. She's falling in love with her new boyfriend and she hates it. I can't say I blame her, I hate falling in love as well because you become so dependent on your emotions. Our father taught us not to rely on our emotions, but I can't ignore them any longer as he does. I suppose it's just not natural to ignore your emotions because they some how find a way to manifest.
I wish I could just say to myself "Cathy, your mother is dying and that's it." But then... before, there was always a little bit of hope, and now...I don't feel like there is any hope and all I really want to do is crawl into a hole and sleep for a long time.
On the up side, however, Susannah Breslin (of the post-feminist playground) was on Politically Incorrect last night. I must say that she is THEBABE. I am glad to say I am acquainted with her, virtually speaking that is. I need to write her a letter and tell her how wonderful she is. She towered over Bill Maher wearing leather. She was the one in control for most of the show and she kicked ass. I thought it was funny how the old feminists were trying to correct her in her assessment of feminism... as if she was still a child and didn't fully comprehend what she was saying.
I was cheering for her and smiling because the only rebuttal the woman... Jong I think was her name... had was to call Susannah names. That is so third grade and you would have thought that an author could have been a little bit more creative with her slurs.
There was only one thing the author said that I agreed with and that is that women hate one another. Now I know Susannah isn't "vagina friendly" and I know that women are glorified whenever something breaks in the media, but we do hate one another and that is a problem.
I think I am going to spend some time alone tonight. Last night I passed out because Roman stayed somewhere else and tonight I have the night to myself so I will go see how mom is doing and then come home and be alone.
November 26, 1997
I am at work, patiently waiting to get permission to get into some pages that need updating.
I have so much to do... I get to cook Thanksgiving. It would be too hard on Granny, plus my turkey is pretty juicy, usually. Anne will probably help. Thomas, my brother, was bitching about how "I don't want turkey." He is such a fucking baby sometimes. He can cook ANYTHING and make it taste good. Except simple stuff... like fried chicken. I am very sexist when it comes to cooking. I think men are much better cooks then women, I suppose that's the only good thing about my father, he knows how to cook. I remember the last time I ate with him 7 years ago Swordfish with a light mango sauce.
But I digress... What will I fix... Stuffing with crasins in it as well as mashed potatoes with smoked Gouda cheese... and a cake with the sweetened and condensed milk I boiled for 4 hours for frosting. That was a trick I picked up in Russia from my friend Jan.
I'm not really ready to be in the holiday mood yet. I suppose it's because I have a sinus infection or something. I feel really light headed and time doesn't even seem to pass.
I can't believe there is a new year approaching. How strange. Roman stayed with his other host yesterday and was supposed to be home today "early" but I suppose his host found something else for him to do. I kind of miss him. He's always in a good mood, and when he isn't, I can usually tell.
November 27, 1997
I suppose Thanksgiving went well. The turkey was juicy and everyone was there. We didn't even fight but I had to correct Thomas once when he was trying to be superior about who the video camera belonged to. Mom has bought that mother fucker everything. There isn't one thing that he doesn't have. He paid for most of it initially, but when he got fired a year ago from his job, she has been paying ever since. This pisses me off to no end, but there is not a fucking thing in the world I can do about it.
After everything died down we all jumped in Thomas's bed and I slept. Mom was at the end then Anne then me then Roman. We were doing something and we fought for position by jumping over my mom and sister. We did this without thinking about hurting my mom like a couple of kids, and then I felt bad.
We watched the planet of the apes and it was horrible. Anne and I kept giggling at how stupid it was and Thomas yelled at us to stop so we did and then I fell asleep.
When I woke up, we got ready to leave because I didn't want to be there anymore. Plus Lenny wanted to take us bowling. Roman kicked my ass. I was stupid and hit my punching bag some before we left and it fucked up my wrists so bowling wasn't as nice as it could have been, but it was fun to watch him bowl. He did a number of strikes and by the time I couldn't bowl anymore, I had too.
So all in all, Thanksgiving was cool, but I hated it because I knew it would be our last Thanksgiving with mom. I wish I could make her go to Venice now... but she doesn't have a valid passport and I just don't think she could do it.
November 28, 1997
I am so fucking pissed at this moment. Some asshole at Kinko's accosted me and told me I charged some phone calls on his number. I don't do that kind of shit. I do however remember him calling me and telling me about the calls. He must have not called the phone company and told them there was a mistake even though he said he did.
That really chaps my ass, him accusing me and not having concrete proof that I was the one that did it. Good god, I am so pissed. I sat there and argued with him for what seemed like a half an hour, but it was probably more like 10 minutes.
He was trying to tell me how uncool I was for doing that sort of thing and I was like, "Mother fucker, I don't know you from fucking Adam." Well... that's what I was thinking. I was a polite, genteel Southern lady that was involved in a sleight disagreement with a... gentleman. Roman was like, "If I were you after the first 5 minutes I would have been like, 'Mother Fucker get the fuck away from me.'" I thought that was funny. I was embarrassed because he was around and that's why I was a good girl.
I think he was just sadly mistaken and hit on some girl that looked like me. This like happened 6 or 7 months ago and I was about to leave for Russia, and I sure as hell wasn't interested in anyone from Kentucky. I stayed at home back then most of the time and worked on my web-page. I hate being falsely accused for something I know I didn't do.
Ah... well... Wednesday night I had the time of my life. It was 50 cent night at Sparks so I started drinking a lot and then Roxell asked me if I wanted a drink. It was so much fun, but the crowd has changed a lot. Roman got bored so we left and went to the Connection.
I had one of the best times of my life there. I was so drunk and free, it felt so nice to be like that. I was dancing cheek to cheek with one of the male strippers, and I do mean cheek to cheek. I'm sure Roxell thought it was really amusing. Actually, I don't know what he thought, and I don't really care. He's fun to hang around with and he's cool to talk to, but I am discovering as I get older if guys can't accept me for who I am, my personality and other hang ups, then I just move on to the next one that sparks my interest. This means I don't fuck around a lot because I think you have to get to know someone in some way in order to be intimate with them.
We are going to "Light up Louisville" tonight, I suppose I am excited... Priscilla is here...
Tomorrow, Chicago.
November 29, 1997
I decided not to go to Chicago. I am too exhausted both mentally and physically.
I went with Priscilla, Melissa, Roman and Lenny to Light up Louisville and after that, myself and Pricilla needed to do laundry so Melissa left and we sat around here trying to figure out what to go do. Pris was hungry so we started to go to Cafe Kiliminajaro's, but it was closed. I love that place. African food is yummy.
We went to this DIVE instead and I ate the worst food I have ever eaten in my entire life there. I should have known better then to get meat loaf. We dropped Roman off at Sparks and then started driving around.
Priscilla lit into me about something that I am keeping personal. After about a half an hour of arguing I just started bawling. I try not to cry so much but there is only so much grief some one can handle alone. I'm sure she was happy because ever since I have known her, 7 years, I have tried not to show her that sad side of myself that I keep hidden from the world.
She made me talk and talk as she drove around and I told her how I just how sad I was. I told her how I wanted to clear the air with my mom about certain things she did that I want her to apologize for and Priscilla was like, "Don't do that, you don't want to make her uncomfortable."
And I yelled back "I'm the fucking one that is going to have to keep living. IF I don't tell her what's going on then I will always regret not saying anything and I have the rest of my fucking life."
It was really intense. I don't let my emotions show usually and I wasn't necessarily feeling secure with her last night when I told her, although I am glad I did.
I woke up this morning and my eyes were almost swollen shut from crying so much. I haven't cried like that since I was a teenager, or more than 2 years ago.
I was embarrassed about that, I had to go to Jean's today and Roman really wanted to go to Chicago so he went with some people from Sparks. I told him we could go but it would have to be on Sunday and he changed the plans to today and after last night, I just couldn't go today.
Besides, I am going to go to mom's to do laundry and other stuff.
