October 1, 1997
Ain't nothing going on yet... give me some time... Wait... that's not true, there's too much going on. Fuck it.
October 2,1997
I am going crazy. I have been in school now for a little over 5 weeks and I am in such a funk that I feel like I just got here. I seem to be sleep-walking through all the stuff I am doing. It's as though nothing matters.
My Mom is terribly sick. She keeps acting like this is it... I don't know how to react because it "has been it" for several times and I can't keep thinking, well she is going to die now. She has framed all of her kids so we think only about her, which I suppose is normal to a certain extent, but... I don't know. I need to get away from this sadness and quit being so unhappy, it's not healthy for me. I expressed my sentiment of leaving to a woman I work with that is in her 60s and she said she likes to live like Polyanna. My mother always used to make fun of those people that never knew what it was like to experience true pain and I envy those people. I wish I understood what it was like to be happy. I want to be Polyanna.
It's weird how just a few hours can change your life. I wrote the first part of this entry at eleven and it's now midnight. My Mom was put in the hospital last night because she had been vomiting and stuff. Lesli and Thomas called last night to tell me and I was asleep and this morning I didn't check my messages because I slept horribly last night, so I didn't leap out of bed.
All day I was so sad, like when I was in Russia before I knew what was going on with my Mom and before I had heard that her doctors released her from treatment (which means they had given up on her and were just willing to let her die) so... I knew there was something wrong with her, I just didn't know what. Then when I got home at 5 and listened to my messages, I couldn't quit crying. I am so emotionally drawn out. So, I called Andy and had him take me to the hospital.
Part of me feels bad about calling him, but I needed to get some things straight in my own head. I don't understand how people that have been together longer then a year can just let each other go as if they were never important to one another, unless the relationship was terribly abusive. So, Andy took me out to eat. I told him about my current lover and it was all good. I hope he starts dating soon. He deserves someone special that can just sit around and watch TV with him. My mind is always thinking of a hundred things I could be doing, so it's hard for me to take it easy.
I had an enjoyable time with him. I do miss his presence terribly, but I suppose that will fade with time. So he was there with me in the hospital and my Mom looked better then she had since I got back from Russia, which was strange. I feel better about her now, she had 16,000 ccs of fluid from a tumor obstructing her stomach, so she had been vomiting for the past month. I think that thing has been there for a while because before I left she was vomiting, but it could have just been the chemo, I don't know.
She looked much healthier. I think she will make a suitable lab rat for the NIH. Her appointment is on the 10th so... we will see what those doctors have to say about it.
I am so nervous. I am taking my LSAT on Saturday and I haven't really studied as well as I could. Fuck it. If I pass then I pass and if I fail, I will photograph. That's one of my philosophies... always have something else lined up. So if I pass, I guess I will go to Law school... I think. I don't know... that's next year. Today is today and tomorrow is now... since it's after midnight, so good-night for now.
October 5, 1997
I am so depressed. I haven't done my laundry for a month... and it's not because I haven't had the drive or initiative, I just wanted to see if it could be done. It's driving me crazy, this HUGE organic growth that has overtaken my bathroom. I never knew I owned so many clothes because when I was with Andy, the longest I could stand it was just 2 weeks because his dirty clothes and my dirty clothes smelled funny.
Now it's just my dirty clothes, and since they smell like girl, it makes it easier not to wash them. I haven't even run out of under ware yet... OK, there was that one load of laundry I did two weeks ago of whites, but I know I have at least a three week supply. Did you ever wonder who invented under ware? I heard something that it went like this, the royals would need undergarments to keep their shit off their nice clothes because toilet paper hadn't been invented. I don't like the past, not because of what has happened because it sounds like a truly awful time to live in. I would hate not having the modern day amenities... but I suppose that's why I like to go to Russia, so I can step back in time 50 years while still living today.
Things have been crazy since Thursday, but I suppose I enjoy chaos too much to mind. Melissa still hasn't gone into labor with her baby. I am so pissed, but I suppose October the 5th wasn't a convenient time for it to come out. I hate her for not having an ultrasound to determine the sex of this baby. I do so want it to be a girl and now it looks as if it may be a boy since it doesn't want to come out. Or maybe it is a girl and she is just primping.
My LSAT went smooth. I'm thinking because I didn't really give a shit about it that made it easier to do. If Law School were my only option, then maybe I would be scared, but since it isn't, then I don't really give a fuck.
I saw my little sister the other night. We had a physical fight back in March and haven't even said "boo" to one another, I probably mentioned that earlier, but she's on my mind.
So there is this freak I met in Moscow that was from Turkey. I can't even remember his name, but when I think of Turkey, I think of beautiful, exotic people with tanned skin and this man was cracker white and no personality. I dreamt I was in Istanbul... it was beautiful. The sun was going back and forth between rising and setting and Sabel, this Turkish girl I know (of to be more precise) here, was in it. We were driving down a road and could see something like the Taj Ma Hal in the distance. It was so beautiful. Sometimes I wish I could make my dreams my photographs, only if I could photograph what was in my mind...
Well, it can't wait any longer, I HAVE to go wash my clothes, this is just ridiculous... oh but sleep sounds so nice.
October 6, 1997
I don't know when I am going to get a chance to write again... I finished my laundry with some expediency. I went out to my Mom's and that's when I got the call from Melissa... Needless to say this has been one of the most amazing days of my life.
I got to the hospital around 11, and well, Melissa wasn't dilated but 2 cm, which isn't much. So I came home because she told me to and took a shower and then laid down when I had calmed down enough. By the time she called me to come back, I was in that in between stage of sleep and I knew that it was coming, soon, so I needed to move my ass.
I got in my car and the expressway was closed down, I suppose there had been a really bad accident. I was so scared it was being born without me. I ran several red lights, it was 2 am and nobody was out, so what the fuck?
When I arrived, they were putting her legs up in the stirrups and The nurse asked if I wanted to see it's head. Now, I was around when my sister had a baby, but I didn't see anything that was involved with the actual birth and let me just tell you, it is the most amazing thing I have ever seen. Here was my friend with her legs in the air and I am looking at the most intimate part of her, with this little patch of grey skin and hair nestled deep inside. When Melissa was pushing, I was holding her leg up, helping so she was "squatting" and because I was watching the baby's head, I was so amazed that I forgot she had an epidural or I am sure this would have hurt.
The doctor came in and the room was sterile in a matter of seconds. She started pushing again and there it was, more of the head. I was just staring and watching in shock. There are no words to express seeing a child that I know will be loved brought into this world. And because Melissa is my best friend, and I choose to care about her and what happens to her, unlike my family where I am obligated, it meant that much more to me and I was so honored that she wanted me there for the birth.
She had one more good contraction and the nurse asked the doctor if she wanted her to push on Melissa's stomach. Melissa used to work up there, that's another story, delivering babies so she knew everyone in the delivery room. I think we were all just anxious to see it and she didn't want to know what the sex was until it got here so we were all excited
The nurse climbed up on her tummy, The doctor took a pair of scissors and slit her open and I felt all the blood run out of my cheeks and into my stomach. What a mess, and dear god, why did he do such a thing? I know it's to prevent ripping, but it was too gross for words.
They started giving one more good push, and I saw it, there, this little creature that was so human, with it's face down. I can still see it's face and the lifeless expression. I was so scared because I thought that babies cried the second they were out but that isn't the case. I kept looking at the little thing with grey skin... it was all so fascinating to see it all happen.
| The doctor pulled it out and cut the cord and so now I have a souvenir all over my sweatshirt... The umbilical cord was under so much pressure when the cord was cut that blood gushed all the way over to where I was lurking in the shadows (when the doctor joined, I opted to watch instead of help). And then he said, "It's a boy." |
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October 7, 1997
"It's not everyday that you see a vagina!" Said Liz, sitting next to me in my Computer Art class. I was updating my Louisville web-page to include the plans for the new Vencor building and this slipped right out of Liz's mouth. I didn't know what to think... she went on "Well you see Corvette everyday." So now I am wondering, what would life be like if we saw Vagina's everyday? I mean you read my last experience just yesterday. I was amazed, so what if we all got a healthy dose of a vagina? Would women be scared of themselves so much? Would men quit frequenting nudie bars? Hmmmm... just think about it...October 9, 1997
Gay men are the best. If it weren't for gay men, then... I think I would have to hate the entire male population. I went to dinner with Todd the other night, and I swear, I think I enjoy his company more then some of the people I have dated. He was my first "boyfriend" when I was 12. We had to grow up to reach the stage we are at to get along with one another. Now I feel like I could just be with him for a while and be happy just having him as my companion.
| I felt this way about Vlad too. The more mature the gay man, the better we get along. Granted we both have to make compromises in our relationship, but since we don't have that "do you want to fuck" thing going on, all the surface bullshit is missing. Plus we can both scope out the boys at the mall and wonder discretely who could get him first. |
Vlad |
I have come to the conclusion that gay men are necessary in society not only to keep the population under control, but also to keep women happy and understand and bitch about their significant other so you understand each other's frustration of men on a different level then straight men.
I wish I could get along with the regular girl population, but since words like "cunt" grace my lips every so often, they don't seem to want to hang out, unless they have gotten over some of that societal bullshit too. My friends have come to accept that aspect of my personality. I have found that it's only men that want to fuck me and sheep (the general population of women) that don't really like my foul mouth. Well, this is a test done by the Cathy Clay broadcasting system, if you can get over the language, then you can move on to step 2. Some dumb cunt said to me the other day that "You will say anything." I should have looked at her and replied "BAAAAA"
So, why I love gay men. I guess using Todd as an example, I was just destined to be a fag hag, since my first boyfriend was gay, then there was Mark when I was 13 who told me he was gay, then there was Kirk and Justin, when I was 15, and they were gay, went wayward for a while, then found Vlad in Russia, and he is gay.
I think sometimes that I shouldn't get into relationships because I judge men by my standards and most can't measure up. With my gay males, I just accept them as who they are because they don't expect anything from me. I try to make the lovers fit or I just don't bother and that's not such a good thing in either case because somebody's feelings always get hurt. Fuck it, you want to play with fire, you have to suffer the burns.
I see myself older, sitting with Todd in the South of France sipping on a whiskey and coke in honor of Kentucky, him a famous writer and me... what will I be? He came out of a relationship a while ago and decided he wasn't going to play wifey again. I came to that conclusion this summer. I don't want to care for anybody like I did for Andy and them not appreciate it. I know how to treat a man, but why should I put so much into a relationship when I feel that there isn't much I can get out of it. In Kentucky society it is still not an accepted idea that people don't have to be in relationships in order to be lovers. I think that if we all went into affairs thinking that we don't have to be together, that we can enjoy each other's company and then if later you both decided that you wanted more,then that would be great. Now I think one person is expecting or demanding of the other and it just doesn't work that way if you aren't equally into one another.
But, what do I know? I am only a woman and the century is ending and so is the world. Oh well, I am going to have fun dying.
Jen spent the night last night. It was fun. She came over because we had been planning on getting together for a while now. She has a job in Japan if she wants, but it doesn't sound too great.
We went and saw "The Full Monty." I had seen it the previous night with Todd and was more then happy to see it a second time so I could pick up on that British lingo. That is a great movie and it moved fast this time. She was sad. Nobody wants her to leave Kentucky and she resembles a cut lily, slowly withering in her petals. I think she should run as fast and as hard as possible. Kentucky is no place for a woman with drive. It's nice to grow up, but then life changes and you change too. Kentucky stays the same. That was my biggest problem coming back from Russia is that Kentucky was so lifeless.
I think the movie cheered her up. We then renteSwingers and another movie that was real good. Swingers is hilarious. I hope she makes it out in California. She is beautiful, driven, and smart so... I think the world is her oyster. I need to finish school. I leave for California Saturday. I have been so busy that I have just barely gotten excited. Now I am getting more and more hyped!
California here I come...
So, it's later in the day... I have had time to brew on some things. I have figured several things out about myself today.
No matter how hard someone tries to convince me that I am shallow, I won't believe them. I took this Surrealism class last year and learned a lot about Jungian theory. Whenever someone makes blanket statements such as "you are shallow" they are feeling pretty shallow about themselves and attempting to project their self-hatred on to you. Maybe I am wrong, but roll with me for a bit. If someone has the audacity to call you shallow, then why would you want to be around that person? Are they qualified to make value judgments on you? Is anybody really good enough to put value on your judgment? Why do I occasionally entertain such delusions and give a shit about what people think... are they so important to my life?
So then I started to think, "Cathy, maybe you are shallow." Then I have to hit myself because I just won't allow myself to talk to me that way. Besides, I know it's not true. I have been through too much to be as empty as my sperm donor. Plus everyone is shallow and surface when you first get to know them. Some people want to dive right into the deep end but end up cracking their skull because they are still in the shallow end. Or worse, they get in the deep end and realize there is a current that will pull them under and make them drown. My favorite people are the ones that wade in the water, letting it slowly tickle their toes, and let it envelop them into comfort as you go past the hips and the nipples. Soon you are swimming in no time trying to figure out which stroke to use.
So the next time someone implies you are shallow, an you just aren't, put a sign up that reads
"WARNING: DIVING IN SHALLOW END MAY CAUSE HEAD INJURY."
October 10, 1997
I can't believe it's the 10th. I have been waiting so long and then poof. It's the tenth. Tomorrow I leave for California. My Mom is over in Maryland being a lab rat for the NIH. People don't like to hear me talk in this manner about my mother, but I have been watching the bitch die for over 10 years now, and I think I can make fun of her. You will find most people that have been through this have twisted senses of humor. It's the only way you learn to survive.
So, I am taking this art in public places class (hi you literary voyeurer). Today was an awful day. We are having a show, like more then 10 of us, and we are all pretty strong personalities. Most of the people showed up yesterday and claimed a space so by the time I showed up last night, and everybody had left, I was a little pissed.
I plopped my ass on the top of the stairs and started to sulk. Then it came to me that nobody was using that space. I was so happy. Eric was late and I was just getting a few ideas but when he showed up we started feeding off one another which made it easier. We put our crappy photos up because the other instructor forgot to mention he was going to Italy and he has the cool photos. So I was ripping and writing on these photos, having a grand old time. I started charging money for people to go up the stairs... a commission you could say. I was charming about it and made a whole 76 cents. The "head hancho" at the art school came by and I tried to charge him but apparently he wasn't impressed by my womanly wiles or maybe he just isn't getting enough head, I don't know, but he stepped over me to get to the top. He's a dick anyway. I suppose I will have to tell him sometime in the future that he is a dick. None of his students like him. But none of them complain. I guess they like the torture of him... I wouldn't put up with his shit because he's the "not getting head hancho."
I digress. Hanging a show is a particularly depressing matter. When my photographs were censored, I had them measured precisely and I was oh so excited. And then wham, like a train I was blind sided. Can you tell I need sleep? I have the worst migraine and I am starting to babble.
I put in my two weeks at my job. I am switching so I have one where I am more up to date with technology, and if you couldn't tell, I love computers and my web-page.
Do you know what I really hate about web-sites? When you have those fucking "under construction" signs. Hopefully, you try to work on your pages all the time. There are maybe 2 or 3 pages I am happy with on my site. The rest need to be updated or some photos need to die. I like change... constant stimulation in hope that I won't be senile. I guess it doesn't matter, I have been drinking coke out of AL cans all my life so I reckon I will get althmeizers anyway.
I think I am going to go now... there is something I need to do... oh yeah, PACK!!! I'm so excited!!!
October 15, 1997
I am skipping work and school today because I had a very eventful weekend. Saturday I fucked up my flight to California by not only missing my first plane, but my method of payment wasn't accepted so I had to pay for it then. I kept wondering why I had so much money in my account last week.
So I arrived in Los Angles and was given the grand tour by my congenial host, David Dennis. He showed me all kinds of interesting sites and it was so visually overwhelming. I am exhausted even today because of sensory overload.
The worst part about L.A. is how dirty it is. My skin takes a while to react to poor climates and it reacted immediately to the nasty L.A. air. The water was nasty as well. The weather was very nice.
The main event for me was going to Cal Arts and interviewing to be accepted into it's film, photography, or integrated media program. I still feel like that time of my trip was a dream. I interviewed well and seemed to have hit it off with Tracy, but this is a life decision and I have so many butterflies. If I get accepted, and move out to California, how will my life change? I never thought of myself seriously being in the film industry. I took the LSAT at the beginning of this month... and now Film school? I am such an extremist.
So, lately people have been trying to convince me that I should not go to law school, that that would be a bad idea for me... and I go back and forth because that is the safe route for me because I know for sure I can make money. Not only that, but I could one day be "Senator Clay..." No, there is no way I can be a senator, I had a picture of my "self" published on the back of the fucking school newspaper, who am I kidding...
But then there is the part of me that wants to change stuff. WE are all told as children that we can change the world and then by the time we are 22 or 24 we decide that maybe a job where we are making money is nice and stability is nice and eating is nice... we lose focus on what we thought was important as children because we worry so much about bills and the bullshit of everyday life so we say "fuck changing the world, Honey, what's for dinner?"
We can't really change the world, we can just change ourselves and evolve. Fuck it, I haven't been known to take the safest route to date. I want to go to film school, I want to make movies where people deal with real life issues I want to do independent productions. This is one of the few times where I have decided for myself exactly what it is I WANT. I have never been so scared and so excited at the same time. I wonder how many days these butterflies will last...
October 16, 1997
Dear Catherine
The judging for the 1997 Mother Jones competition took place on September 27. This year's showing was very competitive, as we received over 200 entries representing 41 countries. YOUR submission made it to the second round of judging; however...
Well, I tried, and making it to the second round should say something. I question my "talent" and ability daily, sometimes, I can't even cope with life, so I sit at home on my ass.
October 17,1997
I woke up this morning to an Aussie asking me if Cassius Clay was at my residence. I was still groggy and he kept asking if Muhammad Ali lived here... Of all the nationalities I have met, I think that the Aussies are by far the strangest, in a good way. Maybe it's all that sun getting into their brain, I don't know. It was pleasant be awakened in this manner. Most of the time someone that calls that early wants money, but I had my own little Australian Alarm clock. Ah, too bad it was a one time deal. It was 10 at night there while it was 8 in the morning here.
I am teaching HTML to my Russian Professor. I feel so good that I can give something back to her. I think that is almost more important to me at this time. Plus I get quality time with her and that's important.
It seems that maybe many people are intimidated by their professors. I am not. They are people just like their students with problems and the like. They have compassion for the most part if you aren't a fuck up.
My cat is lying on my hands. I suppose this is his desperate attempt at telling me I spend way too much time on the computer and that all he needs is a little love every once in a while. Actually it's pretty cool with him sitting here.
So, my art in public places class was real short yesterday. We had a guest speaker, Grady Clay, he was a very interesting speaker and I love to hear his voice. He's got that Southern Educated Gentleman's lilt as well as a highly evolved vocabulary so when he speaks he doesn't sound as if he is faking it.
I went out with Andy last night. We went and saw Todd at work and then when Todd got off work we went to the Mag bar and the Connection. Todd is the best dancer I have ever danced with. I can see us vacationing when we are in our forties together and always enjoying each other's company... but sometimes it is hard, for me that is. I have known him for half my life, and I remember all the cruel things people would say about him and I remember how I wasn't always so kind and he wasn't always so kind, but somehow, we have managed to work through all that shit and are both driven enough to try to make something of ourselves.
We both seem to be blah with men right now. He had too many relationships where he was physically beaten and fucked in the head. I am just so... bored with men. I listen to what they have to say, and I am a good listener, because even when they say shit I don't necessarily agree with, I sit there and smile and let them think what they want. I have done this with the last 3 guys I have been around. They start thinking I agree with them and their views, but I just don't. They project their beliefs on to me and then when I disagree with anything, they act shocked or surprised. I was trying to keep myself from being too... much me, but I decided last night that if a guy can't take the way I am, then that's his deal. I don't control people's hearts and minds, nor do I want to. I have enough problems dealing with myself as it is, and my family, so a man is incidental.
I just don't want to scare them off... I think this may change when I go out to LA. Then again, maybe it won't. Maybe I will end up scaring people more.
So, here we are, Todd and myself talking about men and relationships. I tried to explain to this one guy why gay men are God sent and I didn't have the proper mind set to do so. I love gay men because we can talk about what is bothering each other in our relationships and I can get an insight into the male psyche. He can explain to me the way he sees things and that makes it easier to interpret. I think every girl should have a gay man in her life... actually the more the merrier. I am a confirmed "fag hag" and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Todd reasoned that women and gay men don't have the sexual tension going on between them so it's easier to cut through the shit. I suppose he's right. Plus we can talk about all the nice things that matter to girls, like hygiene, hair color, and relationships. Gay men are even better then Diamonds!
October 18,1997
Coco just jumped down to see where the ice cream man was going. You know it's sad when a cat recognizes that annoying tune.
I spent my day with an enchanting lady today. Jen is leaving for California and she was doing odd jobs for an elderly lady. She needed somebody and I need the money. The things I do for money... why can't I be a stripper or something interesting? No, I have to do odd jobs or substitute teach. I am such a freak. Anyways, I figured I could learn from Jean as well. She is so cool. She went to BU back when tuition was only $600. That amazes me. Now that I think about it, I am sure that was a lot of fucking money.
I cleaned the bathrooms and picked off dead flowers off the branches. It was soothing to help take care of someone and get paid for it. I won't do that for my Mom so much because I don't feel like she truly appreciates it. Plus my brother will come right behind me and mess everything I just did up, so I just don't bother. I won't clean up after his ass as well.
Plus my Mom is a slob, with paint everywhere. Her mother cleaned up after her, still does to this day, which I think is pathetic, but that's just me. I have this hang-up that Tee gave to me about cleaning. And now I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing, but he always surfaced cleaned, didn't get down to the nitty-gritty of cleaning. Also Jan and I discussed the cleaning thin in Russia. Russia is well, nasty. You have dirt everywhere. Jan said she understood now where the term "cleanliness is next to Godliness" because you don't get anything clean over there. The only water that is clean is filtered water and are you going to do your laundry in filtered water? Are you going to clean the floors with filtered water?
So, about nurturing... it was very nice doing it as well as being reimbursed for my time. Plus Jean is cool. We talked about life and politics. How she expects me to act, etc. It's all very nice. We talked about family and as I left she told me to stay out of trouble. She's a very practical woman which is what I need right now. She is fulfilling several of my needs as well as I am of hers. It's a good thing.
October 20, 1997
Life is so strange... You think everything is going your way and then you are hit with a side ball with spikes. I am sad today, not for myself, but for someone I admire greatly. It all goes back to the source of all evil, MEN.
Now most of you fellows think I hate men, and that's just not true. I do despise many men and I am not very giving to the male ego. But when have you been trained to stroke female egos? Are you groomed all your life to smile and be pretty? NO... you are just expected to earn your keep and help support the family YOU helped create. For some of you that is too much, and for others, well, those men are few and far between.
So, I know it's wrong of me to be so judgemental, but I judge people by the standards I adhere to so go fuck yourself if you don't like it. My system works for me and I didn't ask for your input. I am starting to think for myself more and more each day. Sure there are influences abound, but here, in my demented diary, these are my thoughts and ideas and you are just a visitor.
Some man has hurt someone I care for very much. Maybe it wasn't intentional, and maybe it "just happened" but it doesn't matter, hurt is hurt and that is one thing all humans have the capacity to feel for, each other's pain.
Maybe I wouldn't be so cynical if my own sperm donor hadn't betrayed me and abused me, but I think he did a good enough job to where I don't believe in any one man, well, maybe there is just one, but he let's me down on occasion as well. I suppose that is all too much a part of being human.
I have been talking to Andy again. I know he loves me for all my bitchyness and all my faults. He accepts me for who I am through and through and I don't think there are really that many men out there that are like that. I also can judge him by my own standards and he stands pretty close to my own values or beliefs.
I think back to how my girlfriend's reacted when I told them I wanted to break up. They were all so happy, and now I think that maybe we just needed some space so he could figure out his thing and I could figure out mine. We aren't like, together together, but I just can't see myself trusting any man like I trust him.
He is not perfect by any means, he's just Andy and he loves me and sometimes I wonder why that wasn't enough for me. I suppose it's because that rip roaring passion thing isn't there, but how necessary is that passion? I have it for other things. And is it really worth chasing any swinging dick down the road?
I, indeed, do not know what to think about this. Feeling is a totally different matter. I feel like I really do care and love him unlike any other person on the planet, but I don't want to try like I did before. The only people that deserve that much love are my children, and I go back and forth on that one daily.
I don't know... maybe we just passed that level of comfort that couples shouldn't pass. I don't know... Life is strange.
PS I got a new roommate today. His name is Dave. Yeah, I know he is male and all, but his presence isn't such that he makes himself overly dominant nor do my eyes hurt from looking at him. He will be fun to photograph.
I have been thinking about this, and most of you assholes would think I am wrong, but think about it. The way men are raised verses women is radically different. If I was a man saying this shit, would I have more credibility? I was raised by a man and taught to stand up for myself and that is something that just isn't accepted in this society.
October 21, 1997
I am in a particularly frightfully ugly mood at the moment, and I can't figure out why. Maybe it's because something is up with my Mom. I only feel this shitty when I can sense there is something bad wrong with her. Or maybe I am just hungry. No, I think it must be her. I went to bed early last night because I was up late the night before.
Fuck this, I am going to go to White Castle and eat. White trash dining at it's finest...
October 22, 1997
I am patiently awaiting for my roommate to get home. He is bringing a dog with him. I can't wait to see how the cats react. They are going to be thoroughly displeased.
So I was pissed yesterday because my computer art professor told me it didn't take any creativity to put photos on the web. I blew up and told him it took a lot of time and planning and thought in if the pictures "flow" together as well as getting those annoying little slivers of white that some people get from after they scan their stuff and don't crop... well, you get the idea. It pissed me off for him to say that what I was doing wasn't that creative. That's one of those awful dichotomities of art. Just like I imagine many people don't think that computer stuff can be an art form, like people today STILL don't think photography is an art form. If photography isn't an art form, then why do my photographs look better then most? I suppose it's that "eye" thing. I think I have that I see things differently then others because I could have easily lost my vision when I had brain surgery, so I try to absorb and notice minuscule details that most people ignore. Not only that, but I took a sex crimes class and my professor went on and on about how people are stalked, so I am frightfully aware of my surroundings.
So, that's why I was in a bad mood. And thinking about my friend that got fucked over. I hate this helpless feeling, because there is nothing I can do for her except listen, and that's all most people want when they "bitch" so they can feel some connection with someone else. I understand that, but I take some things overtly personal and it's hard for me to differentiate from what I should feel strongly about and what I should just listen to.
Sigh... I am going to Washington with my Mom next week. She has to go to the NIH to have blood taken. I am kind of excited. Plus next week is Halloween, my personal favorite holiday. But that's over a week away...
Tomorrow the MILK people will be on campus to photograph people with Milk mustaches. I WILL be a model, not only because I have "cow titties" as my little sister, Anne, so fondly referred to them but for the simple fact that I love milk. I think I must be weird because most people my age HATE milk. When I came home from Europe, Toddk had a gallon of milk waiting for me in the cab of his truck. That was one of the sweetest things anybody had ever done for me. But those Swiss chocolates a fan sent me were pretty fucking awesome too. So...I don't really booze it up that often, plus I enjoy having healthy teeth and bones. And there is nothing as yummy as chocolate milk and popcorn.
Anne used to drink milk. I'm sure she still does, but when she was 16 and the doctor did her first bone marrow biopsy, they had to practically get a hammer to get the fucking needle in her hip, and that was unusual for someone with leukemia. (For those of you out there that have never seen a bone marrow biopsy take place, I will describe it in grueling detail as I watched it done to Anne. First, she had to strip and put on a gown. then she had to lay on her side with her ass hanging out until the doctor came in. They didn't use drugs on her the first time and that was a mistake, except for lidocain to numb the area up a little. They injected this needle... a size 10 slowly into her right hip. She was laying with her face to the wall and was gripping my hand with anticipation. Now those of you that don't know what a size 10 is, look at a #2 pencil and imagine that sharpened down to the lead which is injected into your hip. I was just watching and I wanted to barf. I couldn't believe they made that thing fit into her body. The doctor eased it in then when he got to the bone he cajoled it little by little and then it wouldn't go any further. That's when he bore down on it with all his weight. It still wouldn't chip and by this time her screams were intolerable. The nubs she had for nails dug deep into my left hand to cause scars that are even visible today. This is why it is important to drink your milk!) Usually leukemia patient's bones are weak. Not Anne's, her bones are/were just as hard as her head.
So, I think several of you think I am cool for writing this stuff down. There is A LOT I don't put in here, just the stuff I feel is... not necessarily incidental, but just stuff I think about. To you it may seem like I am not holding back, but I am. My Russian babe, Tanya, told me I had balls to put this stuff on here, I calmly corrected her and told her "no, I have ovaries, it's a little more complicated."
October 23, 1997
Some cocksucker signed my guestbook as Jim Baker, the evangelist, and just wrote Fuck off. That was my first bad signing... The thing of it was that he didn't have the "balls" to leave his real e-mail. Not only that, he didn't have the imagination to write something original, he had to result in throwing a third grade insult. Figures... I suppose he was sitting at home hoping to masturbate to some nudie photos when he came across me, the super bitch with an attitude. That's OK, I finally figured out how to delete entries and so he is gone like last night's pizza... ah the silent screams of the deleted information lost in the bowels of the Internet...
I didn't go to my first class today so I could work on my web-page. So I showed up at 12:30 and went to have my picture taken with a milk mustache. I put on the black mink hat I bought for my brother last year and had my hair all out... it was cool. Then I went and photographed the America reads kids at their school. Then I went to class until 5 and made one of the coolest damned pots. I was so proud of my stuff. I sat next to this classical beautiful woman named Bridgette. She is so cool, as is my professor. Then I came home, photographed some of my Russia pictures and then went and picked up Priscilla and we went out to eat soup with my grandparents that are staying at mom's. Went next door and spent some time with the Family. Priscilla and I took the long way home. Andy came by and showed me his message pad and then Todd came by and we went and walked a mile and a half, went to eat at Ramses. It was an eventful day...
October 24, 1997
Some days, as the saying goes, you just shouldn't get out of bed. I stayed in bed too long and missed my Russian class and work which means I need to make up my hours at work and get bitched at on Monday for missing Russian. Oh well. I feel like I just don't give a shit anymore because I don't want to be here. Plus it rained today, which wouldn't be so bad but now I am chilled to my bones. I want to snuggle up in my bed and take a long winter's nap. Hibernating... what a concept.
I talked to Mom today. She is not feeling well.
I critiqued Eric's instillation today, maybe that's why I am in a funky mood. Plus the weather. Oh, and I did go to photograph, but that was a bomb. So... here comes my cat. I hope he lays on my arms and makes me warm.
I'm going now... it's Friday and I want to go warm up somehow.
October 25, 1997
Foul... foul... foul fucking mood. Sometimes Todd pisses me off to no end. He can be a bigger cunt than me and that's pretty hard considering he doesn't even have one. I do adore him with all my heart, however, and the reason he is bothersome now is because he is just as scared as I am of life, although he would never admit it. He has several options opening up to him now, and I think he should get his PhD personally, then people would HAVE to give him some respect, but if he doesn't respect himself, then this almost seems useless.
I am starving. I don't know why, probably because of my new exercise habit of walking with Todd for about a mile or so or if it's because it's getting cold and my body is like, "Bitch, you better eat." Maybe it's because I am pissed at my roommate right now. He had people here last night around 4 and didn't bother to inform me so I woke up to bellowing male voices and needless to say, I freaked out. I am going to have to broach this subject with some aplomb, and I just am not the most diplomatic person there is. Fuck it, I don't need his shit and I will put it to him just like that. I don't need his dog, I don't need... you get the point.
So I went to Jean's again today and earned some money. I don't think I am going to need it so much any more, but I really enjoy spending time with her and talking to her about life. I hope that if I make it to her age, she is "forever 39" then I will be OK... But that is nearly 20 years away since I turned 19 again this year. So, she cracks me up. She makes the strangest concoctions of food that I have ever eaten. I won't tell her I don't like something because I am interested to see what she will make.
Today, it was a cold meat loaf sandwich with Mayo, Pimento cheese and sweet relish. It's sounds so gross but it was one of the best sandwiches I have had in a while. The texture was nice and the flavor was good.
We talked about our senses and how they relate to our surrounding in my Art in Public places class yesterday. I agree with Dr. Dakan that people ignore much of their senses these days. When I think of an outfit, I try to match and use textures the best way possible because textures can be so sensual. Patterns bore me, but to reach over and feel a well done silk blouse, that is art. Or when we eat, how important is it for the texture to go across or palette? I love Triscuts for this reason... they are just salty enough and rough enough to cause all kinds of excitement in your mouth. Then there is the smell of a place. I love/hate the way Russia smells. I LOVE the way Kentucky smells... it's sweet, crisp, clean, fresh, sometime stagnant and overpowering, I think that you can tell a lot about a person depending upon the region they came from. But then that is generalizing and generalizations are bad... but I do them anyway just as I stereotype as well.
Well, Todd is here and he is still irritated with me for ignoring him yesterday... we will go eat and I will sooth his ego and it will all be all right...
October 26, 1997
Some of you men out there have this impression that I am so cute and that I am not really a bitch... well I am about to give you an example of what a Nazi cunt I can really be.
I had a story one here, but I took it off, it was too personal and I made up with Todd today so it's nobody's business...
Oh yeah... how do you like the new design of my page?
October 27, 1997
Ahh.... I am sitting in the comfort of my own home... I start 2 new jobs this week... One I did today. It was a nice day and I am going to be doing a lot of work at home, so I am happy. Plus the money is good and the hours suit me so far. Which reminds me I need to fix my schedule for next semester.
I will be learning all kinds of nifty web-stuff, too bad I won't have any time to work on my own stuff...
Well, I am going to go eat...
October 29, 1997
I suppose some of you that look here missed me yesterday. I was at Jen's house wishing her well on her Journey West. We talked about a lot and I am hoping she likes it out there well enough to stay. So I am kind of sad today.
Plus I was a little perturbed about my score on my Ceramics test. Some of the people wouldn't be quiet so I fucked up my first try and had to do it again so that took me down to a B. So I was pissed. But it was over and so I had to prepare for tomorrow, which is my Women in Russia talk. I am nervous and a little scared, but I am positive that my work is strong, so I am not too worried.
Todd is killing me. He told me after we got into this big battle that I could tell him no and that would be OK but when I had to tell him no I couldn't go out tonight, he flipped out and didn't want me to stay at home. I argued with him for about 5 minutes on how I know my limitations and he was put off. He wants me to do what he wants me to do and my feelings are incidental.
Speaking of feelings... One of my fellow co-workers asked me if it was wise to put everything on the web, and like I said, I don't put everything on the web. Plus in our society, it is rare for someone that isn't scared of their feelings and isn't afraid to express them. I write this for me, maybe not so much as therapy, but so I can remember what I was thinking in my final year of college.
So, I am starting to learn more about web-design. My wrists hurt from typing so much, but through repetition, I am learning... I found out today that they interviewed 75 people, but then I think that can't be true... No, it must not be true since my boss said that he had interviewed 3 people. I don't know, I think somebody is pulling my leg...
Now that I am learning more I am sure that my page will improve when I have the time. I know I asked what people thought about my pages changing, but I am sick of having men give me little "helpful hints." Haven't any of you ladies got opinions? Plus I decided that I won't listen to a man about changing my site unless it was something I was intending to do in the first place or it's Dan the God of web design. And it seems every guy that I talk to, with the exception of a few men, more then 5 times seems to have some way I can improve my page so it suits them more. Fuck that. I wasn't put on this planet to suit men. And I figured out this summer that trying to change somebody is the wrong way to go about any kind of relationship be it friend or lover.
October 30, 1997
FUCK! I just realized it was Vlady's birthday... well I remembered earlier today but I forgot to wish him Happy Birthday. Vlad is one of my naked men. He is HUNG like a horse. I' glad he's gay, because that thing could really do some damage. I imagine, however, that it can be a little TOO big, and then those guys have to be gay... Plus he's got a perfect body PLUS he got his PhD from Cornell, so he's everything a fag hag photographer could ask for, and then some. Well, enough teary eyed nostalgia...
I HAD MY PRESENTATION TODAY!!!!!!! I NEVER thought I would be through with it. The other recipients were... long winded... and we went over time but I am DONE. Tomorrow is Halloween and then I leave for DC. I can't wait.
My mom came and sat with me and it was the first time in my adult life we have shared that kind of experience together alone. Usually my asshole brother is in tow bitching at my mother every fucking second. Dr. Schultz told me I should have said something so I could have gone sooner but I was being selfish and enjoying the time I had with my mom alone (even if she couldn't hold herself up very well).
I went and worked for Jean today after I was done. She had me break some twigs and branches from her English Beech, which is a beautiful tree, but it sheds wood like hair...
She made Chili. It was pretty good. She paid me for 2 hours to sit there and watch TV with her, hey, I'm not complaining, I got to have personal time doing that which I honestly don't get much of. When I started falling asleep I decided it was time for me to leave. She is a nice lady, and the key word is lady.
Some people tell me that I am not so lady like because of the language I use, but I have taken back the words that are suppose to be degrading and taking that edge out of them. So, I am learning lessons, and acclimating them to my own personality.
That's what I do, I steal other people's experiences if I haven't had them and use them for a brief moment and try to gauge how people reacted to those experiences. Then I learn from them or I decide for myself if I want to make my own mistake. Like, I know I don't want a baby quite yet, nor do I want an STD, nor do I want to have an abortion, so I have been VERY careful. I think if more people were careful, there would be less... problems. I read today in USA TODAY about how this asshole spread AIDS around in New York... and these stupid teens were having unprotected sex, how awful.
So, by thinking about situations, I think I have avoided many bad situations by learning and absorbing others mistakes. Like I know I want to read so I won't be stupid. Ah, I could go on and on... but I am tired and Godivas are waiting...
October 31, 1997
So today is FINALLY Halloween... and I am in a foul mood. My roommate did not come home after work and I did not take his dog out, some of you may think this is mean, but he is not my dog and he is not my responsibility. So... around 2 am, the dog started freaking out so after 10 minutes of listening to its misery, I got out of bed and let him outside. I am losing my sanity. I think the dog has to go. I haven't had a decent nights sleep since it came.
I started my new job today and the guy going to UK next semester told me I had to pay a dollar for a cup of coffee and I told him to kiss my butt. I am not on his good side at this moment, but that's OK, I will make him cookies or something. Or maybe I will just let him think I am a bitch since he will be leaving soon.
I hate dogs. Actually, that's not true, I hate undisciplined dogs that aren't obedient.
So... Halloween is over and I am relieved. I didn't have many trick or treaters, but that's OK...
Melissa looked radiant tonight. I saw my ex, Superman, at Sparks, which was interesting since I was with Andy and Melissa...
Oh well... there will be another Halloween, hopefully next year I will be in Hollyweird!
