Thursday, JULY 2, 1998

God I hate using that computer at the Stinko's (Spain's Kinko's).

Anyways, if you can't tell, I have been a very busy woman.

Monday, I went to Toledo. I was going to go to El Escorial, but I read in my Let's Go book that Jenna got me that it was closed. I was a little intimidated but I ran into this guy named Dan that told me the Cathedral was the only thing worth seeing. I forgot about the Roman Ruins on the outskirts until later. So we went into this Cathedral and I was just amazed. I mean, St. Basil's is fucking huge on the outside, but when you go in, the walls have to be extra thick to hold up the edifice so inside St. Basil's is really small. This place was just so big I didn't know what to think. Dan later told me that when they built these things, they wanted people to come by 1000 years later and see what they had been insane enough to build. I walked through and touched pieces of marble that were so perfect and symmetrical and I could feel some of the energy that went into carving these pieces of work.

I hear people say today that they could never do such things and they are right they couldn't. However, if I had the determination to carve something and I wanted it to look as amazing as these things look to me, I am sure I could do it (OK... So I could not carve a whole fucking Cathedral, but you get the point). People put too many limitations on themselves to ever really get a sense of accomplishment and that's why you have middle-aged women sitting in a circle amazed at the stuff I do with my time as they watch life pass them by.

So, Dan only came to see this Cathedral and then he took off. Well, I knew there were some paintings I wasn't seeing hiding in it's bowels so I had to go buy a ticket that was 500psts. which I thought was a little high... but in retrospect, it was worth it. I have so many wonderful artists converging in my cranium. Ribera, Velasquez, Zuberon, El Greco. This is the Cathedral where El Greco died, so some of his works hanging in there are his last and greatest. It was really quite amazing to see such things.

I fucking hate being a tourist. I despise all the implications and ramifications that go with it. I am just going to consider myself a traveler instead of a tourist because I don't really think that a tourist gets the full effect of their travels. I wish I was more lingual, however, because then I wouldn't be embarrassed to order food in a cafe.

When you first see an El Greco, you know it's his by the elongated features and bright, surreal colors that he used to depict his figures in various ways. I have a fondness for El Greco, but he isn't not one of my top 10 favorites. I enjoy looking at his fucked up view of life, however.

There were some pope's robes further back where the tourists didn't travel. They were being led by a guide, and I don't believe the guide was going to take them back into the stank of old sweat and mis used money on inappropriate costumes worn by hippo-critical men. I, on the other hand, so desperately wanted to pull my pants down and piss on the floor. I hate religion and when I think of what an injustice religion has served, I get a little emotional. You will be happy to note that that was just a fleeting thought in my head and my form of disobedience was to photograph what was not to be photographed.

I walked out of there and really had to pee, and the Mickey D's toilet was out of order. I mean what the fuck good is a McDonald's if you can't take a piss or get a coke? (Yeah, I know eating at McDonald's is oh so touristy, but give me a little bit of a break). So, I walked around a little while, found a cafe, ate a potato thingie with meat on top with Mayo and ketchup which made me want to barf but at least I got to pee, in a toilet that was also out of order. Next time I will have to remember to go to the hotel lobby. I walked around, couldn't figure out what I was going to do so I sat down at a decent place where you could see the top part of the Cathedral and drew.

I have taken a sketch pad with me for the past three years to the places that I have traveled and maybe drew in them once or twice, and I wasn't about to do it this time. Plus what the fuck was the purpose of me paying to learn how to draw if I am not going to use it?

I thought I was going to be late for my train, so I caught a bus back down and was talking to a couple from Chattanooga and was all excited when I found out they were going back to Madrid by bus. I was a little put off, but not terribly.

I bought a few souveys, fans. And thought to myself as I was waiting that I should go into the shop and buy some things even though I have Melissa in the back of my mind telling me not to spend my money on shit I don't need. I got Andy something and then I was looking around and remembered!!!! GRANNY LOST HER SCISSORS THOMAS GOT HER IN SPAIN!!! I was so proud of myself and I can't wait to see the expression on her face when I give her a similar pair that she lost, made with Toledo steel which is suppose to be the best.

I walked out of the shop, saw this guy sitting, waiting for the train, writing in a sketch book so I asked him if I could draw him. His name is Gabriel. He wrote in his book and I did this pretty bad drawing but he said he liked it.; I am out of practice and need to work more, but I handed him the drawing and chocked back that he could give it to his mom because I naturally assumed since he was younger then me that his mom was still alive.

He answered "Yeah, I can give it to my mom."

Then we loaded up on the train and sat down. I asked why he was here and he told me that he won the opportunity to come to Spain and do architectural surveys of the different styles throughout Spain. Then he asked me why I was here and I hesitated for a second and told him mom had died and I was just kind of running away.

" blah blah blah... My mom died when I was 15 blah blah blah"

My heart stopped. I almost started crying. I asked him what he missed the most about his mom and he answered her voice and I told him I missed calling her and telling her what I have seen and just talking to her.

I am sure this man, because he's not a boy and now he's not a guy, will probably have the greatest impact on me in such a short time because we were only together 2 days and we talked about so many different things. He's awful young, younger then me by 6 years, and very religious, which you know how I am about putting your faith into something that isn't yours. But he is a good person, and we had comparable childhoods so it was strange, plus, we can argue about different works of art and why we like them and respect each other's opinions even if we didn't agree. I developed a little crush on him, but he is so much younger then me.

So... I knew this would happen, that too many things would happen while I was over here that I would have sensory overload, and that I would need a vacation to recuperate from my vacation because I am using my brain to think about other things too much.

Plus I have been having nightmares involving my father and mother and I can't say having those images linger in my mind as I first wake up allows me to have a peaceful day.

So, I met Gabriel the next day to go to El Escorial and I liked and hated that place (I think I am going to wait until a further date before I decided on how I feel about Spain for sure, right now , I am too close). I didn't like the somber colors and I much prefer the Gothic Style and tacky Russian/Italian Baroque over the Renaissance style. Gabriel was able to explain certain styles to me that I had not retained in previous art history courses or just never bothered to learn. I was able to teach him about certain painters and why they are so amazing, LIKE BOSCH!!! There was an exhibit that we both thought was a little bitty thing that took almost an additional 3 hours. We went slow through the Felipe II at first, but towards the end, we just wanted to be free. Towards the end of the exhibit, we found Bosch. I fucking love Bosch more then life almost. You can stare at his paintings and know 3 things for sure.

∑ There is always a hidden meaning

∑ He is the Father of Surrealism

∑ He was one fucked up mother fucker that had to be insane to come up with such ideas

We looked at this one panel that he did and I showed him this that and the other. Well, as we went through the Prado on Wednesday we saw a very exacting duplicate and Gabriel was a bit miffed because then he feels like since it was duplicated, then it wasn't as real. I was just amazed that I was able to see 2 that were so much alike. I was amazed. I am not even sure the people in the Prado realizes it or maybe they do, I don't know, or maybe they don't want people to know there are 2 of them.

So if you are in Spain, and you go to both El Escorial and the Prado, you can see what I am talking about. The one at El Escorial is in much better condition.

So, compared to Catherine's Palace in Pushkin, I was not as impressed with El Escorial. But still, it's El Escorial. and it is still pretty fucking amazing. I think what kind of ruined it for me was going through the death chambers. I think I could have dealt with the torture chambers, but when I saw and smelled all those dead kings and stuff, it bothered me a whole fucking lot. More then when Keir started talking about how the bacteria in our bodies starts eating us when we die. The smell, yuck. It makes my tummy turn even now just thinking about it.

And if you were in the main bedroom, the fastest way outside to the garden was through the death chambers, and you know that always had to be a joy.

We headed toward that Cathedral and it amazed me, but he he was not so impressed. I didn't like it as much as the Gothic style (go figure) though. I lit a candle for mom even though I am not Catholic I still felt the need to pray for her soul. Then that got me to thinking again about just why is it that I decided to come and look at dead people's work? They can't reach up and tell me why they chose this or that and I suppose it doesn't really matter all that much because I don't ever try to explain myself or why I take a photograph at this angle or that angle. I just take something that fancies me although lately I have been thinking more and more about how the geometric shapes all come together. We break down forms in our mind into simple shapes and then put them back together in recognizable patterns and I have been more acutely aware of this lately. You can do a lot with Photoshop these days, but if the photo sucks to begin with...

Spaniards do everything in due time. I am used to eating at 6 pm (noon back at home), no matter what and they aren't serving then, so that is a pain in the ass.

Gabriel and I had bought sandwich stuff earlier and it made me think of the last day I spent with Keir, which was very nice. He took me to a grocery store in Amsterdam because he knew that's something I liked doing when I traveled. We got some German wine, Black Cat, and beer and cheese and bread and meat and he got some awful pickled herrings that I just couldn't stomach. We sat at one of the canals and just talked and watched tourists go by in boats and it was one of those moments in time I hope not to forget because it was so pleasant and I really enjoyed his company. He was quite a gentleman that night and I just enjoyed being near him.

I haven't done much today except catch up on sleep. I was going to try to go to the Museum Sofia today but I think I was pretty full of seeing art and when I thought of looking at the Dali's and Picasso's, my body just told me to fuck off so I slept. I think I needed to sleep for a while anyway.

I haven't seen many lone women travelers. While I was waiting for Gabriel to get his room at the hostel, I met another American and I just can't stand this type of tourist. He went to several places in Europe just partying and granted this is suppose to be a sort of vacation, I don't think he appreciated his experiences to the same degree in which I have, but then I don't live in his body and the only way I can tell how he was affected was by the way he presents his experiences he has had over here. What's the point of coming here and being stoned all the time or drunk? You can do that shit at home a whole hell of a lot cheaper then you can here. Grrrr... tourists.

I like having a place where I can set all my stuff out and know it's going to be there when I get back. I don't relish the idea of being kicked out of a hostel. Nor do I really like the idea of being totally disorganized.

I need to find a place where I can calm down and just organize my thoughts and work on my papers. I am kind of excited about being in Italy because I am going to sit on a beech for the first few days and be with Lena and her sister.

I hear a saxophone bellowing in the background, along with people laughing and just a general kind of happiness that sounds so close and distant at the same time. I want to go be a part of that music, let it resonate through me and all my parts, but I am waiting for Leticia to come home. She does not have her set of keys.

* * *

I am feeling rather sad today. I O.D.ed on turkey sandwiches with cheese. I miss my mommy. I want to call her up and tell her about what I did with Keir and ask her what she thinks and listen to her tell me to be careful. But all I can see is an image of her in the casket.

People say that someone you love is never really gone, but I sure as hell can't feel my mother. Feel her psychically that is. I am alone, more then I was the first time I was alone when I had brain surgery and I laid in my bed and cried because one of my best friend's was suppose to come and spend the night to keep the terrors away.

He came to mom's funeral. I couldn't gauge his grief because I made myself laugh through that whole ordeal and when I looked at him and his eyes were filled with tears, I wanted to scream at him that she was my mother and he had no right to cry if I wasn't. Now, of coarse, I feel differently.

As with every event that reeks havoc into your life, my life has changed in oh so many ways, but in the same token, it hasn't. I feel like I look for security and comfort but in reality I am still reaching for havoc and controlled chaos. I can't just let all the experiences I have had go and move effortlessly through the sea of life. I need the ocean and current that tries to carry me away so I can fight it. It's difficult for me to stop fighting now that I am an adult and I have to prove myself to those around me less and less.

I am accepted by a number of people for what I think and who I am and still, that isn't enough. So now that my dad wants to dredge up what little bit of a relationship he can, I ask myself everyday if I am even willing to try. I don't wish to be consumed with such thoughts, but I don't know what else to focus on, the bread is bought and the flesh of the peaches awaits my lips to caress them with my tender bite.

I feel trapped, in myself, in a mind that is relentlessly thinking of what should or could be instead of what is and I can't stand these thought patterns. I have fought so long to let go of incidents that have made me bitter, but it's not as easy as it sounds to just let these things go. I see myself in a way that others think they can understand but there is no explanation unless you have suffered in similar circumstances. I try not to disregard others lives and experiences, but seek to be merry and not think of my own problems so much.

Keir pointed out to me that I seem to run hot and cold on people and I told him that was because I can keep the attention off of me and on to them so I don't have to worry about myself. I don't think he was expecting me to have the answers to my own character flaws, but I am acutely aware of most of them and others I just write of to my own personality.

I was never taught how to socialize by my parents very much. None of us were. But I remember mom and dad having parties when I was a child and we were sent to our room and then when they wanted to show us off they would have us come downstairs so we could be admired like little adornments to make the perfect family.

I still feel that way today, like an adornment. I need to learn what it is to become the Christmas tree instead of an ornament and although it may seem like I am pretty much the focus of myself, that is further from the truth. I can not justify being nice or kind to me although I try to be everything to everybody which doesn't always work because someone will find a way to make you less then what you are.

I don't know if I will ever feel normal again. I remember the day all of that was shattered and I ceased to be a member of my family because a babysitter caught me with her son in his closet and gave me enough Catholic guilt to last the rest of my life. I don't want that anymore. I don't want anything and I want it all. I want to do my thing and be paid and admired and loved for whatever it is that I create, but I know what I have to say will not always be accepted.

That doesn't bother me so much because I know that if what I have to say is so easily accepted, then what?

I cried a little just now, wanting to be a part of whatever was going on in the street and thinking of my mom in her casket. Now I am sleepy and want to sleep for another 6 hours.

Tomorrow I meet with aunt Betsy and have to be fake and play the part of the good little niece. Vomit. I hate pretending to be someone I just am not. I think I will set the tone from the beginning by telling her I am not a kiddo, I am 19 again and my mother is dead, and that she should not ask me any questions she does not want an honest answer to.

Saturday, July 4, 1998

Wow, it doesn't 't feel like the forth of July, but then I haven't celebrated it for the past ' years for real. There was the first time I was in Russia when I celebrated it, but there were no fireworks or anything.

Leticia and I went and bought a new pair of sandals for me because I only have 2 pairs of Docs and what else... some clogs that I wore yesterday for the first time without socks like a dumb ass so you can imagine how blistered my feet are at this moment.

I am waiting in a travel agent's place for my tickets to Italy, Prague and then Moscow. I am not sure how much up to date I can keep this over the next few weeks, but I will keep a diary and update it all at once when I get the opportunity, probably when I am in Volgagrad.

Leticia and I went and saw Welcome to the Doll house or what ever the hell that movie is called. It was one fucked up movie. It made me more introspective then I already was and yesterday was a pretty bad day because I was up and down. My aunt acted like she wanted to spend the day with me but when it came down to it, it just didn't't happen. (I hate this fucking telnet program that uses 's instead of apostrophes).

So I have a return ticket to Barcelona if I chose to do so. I have a return to Amsterdam in 3 days, from here, but I will be in Italy tomorrow. I have been thinking a lot about life and stuff. I miss my mom terribly and I am learning how to take care of myself more and more. Leticia and I discussed how mom really didn't't care about superficial things and I told her that I was pretty much the same way and she doesn't't think that is a good thing because it was mom that died and I am not that sick.

I wish I could care about superficial things, and be like most girls my age, but I have too much knowledge and I know the difference between what it would be like to be like them and what it is like to be me so... I can't really de evolve into something I would never be content being.

Anne is coming to see me in Russia. I am nervous. She is only staying for a week, which cracks me up. I would at least try to stay 2 days, but I am going to run her ragged. Hermitage, Pushkin, then in Moscow, all kinds of museums and stuff. And maybe when she is ready we will just rest. I don't know what her limitations are and I know that she has never been on the metro so I can't wait to show her what it is I love so much about this country, what little I know. Hopefully by then, I would have done the Trans-Siberian thing and just accomplished a lot of activities. I haven't heard from Roman yet, so I don't know what the hell is going on with him. I suppose I will find out soon.

I am nervous about being in Italy and not knowing the language. I think I am going to hop over to Crete because that is one of my dream places to visit.

My tickets were rather cheap. It's going to cost me under $600 to do all the cities I want to do, the only drawback is that I will have to fly to Paris each time and that is a pain in the ass. I leave so early tomorrow. I have to be at the airport by 6. Shit. Oh well.But, at least I can put my heavy suitcase in Paris and leave it there for the duration of me hopping around. That's nice.

That movie bothered me a lot. It bothered me because I remember how terrible it was for me to be in middle school and those horrible memories aren't the kind of things that just dissipate with time. I think I remember a lot of the bad things that happened to me and when I think about them today, they still smart. As I sat here in Spain, watching that movie, I thought to myself that I bet all the cunts that used to make fun of me are still just a bunch of fucking losers that haven't done anything with their lives. I think about going to my 10 year in the next few years and I think to myself that I would love to just be like, "FUCK YOU! What in the fuck have you done with your miserable little lives?" and then part of me is like I shouldn't even give a fuck. It's all incidental.

I have to get out of Kentucky this year though. I will set that goal up now. Not exactly when I return, but by 1999 I will be located in a another city in another place. I still want to go to film school, but if I can do it without having to go to school, that will work for me.

I have glass in my foot. Leticia`s shelves broke the other day and there was glass everywhere. I have a shard in my foot and it hurts ever so slightly. Oh well. I am going to go to lunch to my aunt's today. I suppose that is not such a bad thing. I am too tired to really do much of anything. I should go back and change, but I don't think I will because that will take way too much time.

OK, I am going to talk to this travel agent because he is cute and speaks 5 different languages. IF you are ever in Spain and you want good service come to Viajes Autorama on Gran Via. Valentin Plamenov is the dude that is waiting on me and he is great.

Wednesday, July 8, 1998

I am sitting here in Putignano, Italy, in Cyber Village. It has to be one of the coolest places I have ever been in.

Other then that, I feel like I stepped into a V.C. Andrew's novel. Nobody told the Russian women that the guys that are usually seeking them as wives are not always so great. I do not feel comfortable talking about why or how I feel weird because it is my business, because I give a shit, but I do not feel comfortable sharing it on the WWW.

When I first got here, after sitting in tree airports all day, I was so tired it didn`t even occur to me how strange it was to see Lena in Italy. Then when I was sitting on the chair, I was freaking out, I suppose we both were, and I am so glad I have had the opportunity to talk to Sveta, she is amazing.

Their mother also had cancer for a long time, 20 years, so they have suffered similarly even though they were in communist Russia. Lena doesn`t really like to talk about how she feels, but Sveta is different. I have learned through her that I should not make any hasty decisions when it comes to men because she is basically an indentured slave now where before, in Russia, she was free to do whatever the hell she wanted.

She came here not long after perestroika, so everything was uncertain and it seemed like a good idea at the time since her mom had just died. I understand her, basically because that is the reason I am sitting here, running away from life, only my economic condition has made it easier for me to stay single.

I have been going back and forth about this relationship thing and I don`t think I will ever settle down because I think I am going to need several men to satisfy the many aspects of my personalities. It is not an easy task to keep me occupied on all these different levels and I started to realize more and more after seeing aunt Betsy.

She tried to tell me that dad was so worried about me when I had brain surgery and I was just like "what the fuck ever" and went on. She is a bigger smart ass then me and I don`t think she was prepared for me to be able to wield a bigger sword then she had when it came to insults.

Through her, I have been able to better understand myself because she is basically the same way I am and I suppose that entails what it means to be a Clay. Now I have an even greater sense of who I am nd what I can accomplish. I think I am smarter then I ever imagined, and that is one of the reasons I have had so many problems adjusting to society.

I don`t know what you, dear reader, what your perception of me is, because I seem kind of arrogant and other things here in my journal, but I assure you that if you were to meet me, I think your perception of me would change, or if you met me in real life first and then read this, you would think differently of me, I don`t know. All I can say is that there are many pieces and they all fit together in some fucked up manner.

I don`t think so much about my appearance and that is because I don`t see myself as other women do so much, not so much as an object but as a person, and I suppose that is one gift my father inadvertently gave to me. I was reading Ways of Seeing last night, and in it, they talk about how women see themselves as men see them and then how they themselves perceive who they are and I don`t so much see myself the way men see me, so it is kind of a strange thing for me... plus I was a Tom Boy, and I am also a really late bloomer, and I am beginning to realize that maybe all these things aren`t so bad, it just makes me more confident in myself.

One asshole on the plane from Paris to Florence that designs for Gucci and Prada was sharing his disgust with me about how the American backpackers were abound and how we don`t speak any other languages. Well, you know that fucker doesn`t speak a word of Russian. Anyways, I started to get offended. We don`t spend our money on expensive things and you know, at first I kind of thought it was horrible that we don`t speak other languages but then I started to think about what he was saying and I got pissed.

Basically he was giving me a reason why I shouldn`t be living my life in the manner in which I choose and fuck him! I don`t use anything as an excuse as to why I don`t do something I want. Shudder. Another way of mild oppression. Cocksucker (you know he was... eh, but so am I).

It has been too hot to do much of anything, and it has just recently rained so now it feels really fucking yummy out here. I am feeling good, I am being well fed, but I feel like I am about to take off. I have bought some great shoes, seen beautiful men... been stared at as well, I suppose life is a wonderful thing and today, other then that one prick, I really have no complaints.

After reading some of the past few entries, where I feel like an adornment and I don`t, I suppose within the actual family structure I am in, I feel like an adornment, but when I am alone, away from them, I don`t so much see myself as an adornment. It`s a strange thing that isn`t so easy to explain.

Besides, give me a break here, I haven`t spoken English for a few days now and my thoughts are all fucked up.

Friday, July 10, 1998

Yesterday was my brother and step sister`s birthday. I don`t really talk about her because I really never see her and she was so stupid that she flunked health in the 8th grade so... But I suppose none of that really matters anymore.

I rented a car today and I thought Lena would have gone with me out, but she stayed at home and I went to the beach. Actually, I went to the sea where there was no sand so I didn`t find any granules tucked away in sacred places but I did manage to cut myself really bad on the rocks and bleed this funky bright red blood.

This is really frustrating me... so I am going to stop now.

Tuesday July 14, 1998

I met a chick from Cat Arts here in Venice. It was a rather memorable day and I was glad I got to spend time with other girls my age that are really into art and other things I find interesting. It was a little strange at first, but then it was really nice and I enjoyed myself.

The thing that sticks out in my mind is when she said that when someone isn`t aware of something, that usually implies that they just don`t care. When I start thinking about this, it kind of makes me mad because I feel like I am very aware of a lot of things outside of me but when it comes to myself, phhhtt... who gives a shit.

So... That makes me think more and more about how lazy people are and how they just accept what is coming to them instead of trying to forge some kind of new trail for themselves. I suppose I shouldn`t worry so much about other people, but when I do, then I don`t have to think about myself or my own problems so much.

I am such a slut and I thought I would feel bad about it, but in reality, I just don`t. I don`t think I am using sex so much as a way to gain comfort or joy, but more of something that I feel I should be experiencing.

I like to keep some things personal, and that is why I don`t really talk about how I feel about my lovers.

Anyways, Venice is beautiful, and there is just an amazing feeling here. Mostly, I think, it`s me feeling a little sad. I can`t figure out why my mom was so enchanted by this city. Of coarse when she was here, it was probably not in such decline. It reminds me of a surreal place where strange things happen for weird reasons.

I don`t know, I haven`t figured it out. It`s really cold here now because it rained today.

I don`t know what else to say now... um... yeah. I suppose I better get out of this place, it`s only taken me 3 days to find it, and there is no way in hell I will ever find it again, so I hope to write more, I have actually be keeping a more personal diary for me, and writing letters to my mom about all the things I see, still trying to figure out why she loved this place so much...

Wednesday, July 15, 1998

I am here in Florence, back to civilization. It's rather nice being here again. So, I left Venice for several reasons, one being that I didn't want to be with that Italian guy again. I think I am acting pretty stupid partly because I can and partly because I never really got to be an irresponsible teenager. I am trying really hard to make up for it now, only the difference is I can deal with those kinds of things where as before, it was really hard to juggle just dealing with my mom.

On the 3 hour Eurostar train ride here, I thought about a lot of things. I thought about relationships, Andy, Mom, just a lot of things. It's funny how the more that I experience with guys, I find myself craving the safety and calm of being with him because he really does love me more then anybody else. But I know I can't go that way. Maybe one day when we have both gone our separate ways... no, that is stupid, he is an engineer and I am an artist. I need someone more like me, but for now, I will just be irresponsible.

I had so much to say, I wrote it all out before I came here, but this computer doesn't have word perfect. It does have ' if you haven't noticed!!!!

I don't know... I go back and forth on thinking about ho people are traveling and stuff, and I don't really think they get the full effect of what is going on where they are because they are only here for such a short time, which has given me an idea I will further develop. I have met one girl I feel like I can really relate to, and that's because she lived in Spain a year.

I told her about how she is going to go through culture shock when she returns. She was wide eyed and just amazed that I could pin point some of the feelings she was experiencing because I don't think she had articulated them quite yet.

So... I sat on the bank near the train station and took a little pair of my scissors that I had bought in Spain and snipped a good chunk of my hair out (Which reminded me of the story my mom used to tell me about how when I was in second grade, the day before pictures, I whacked off all my bangs and looked really stupid, also, I did it out of a pony tail and I can't wait to see what kind of damage I did to it) and threw it into the main canal. Pieces of my mom and what she loved and hated the most (my dad) are now a part of Venice. I wish it could have been more symbolic, more meaningful, I wish I could even cry, but for some reason, I just can't cry lately, and I really have been wanting to.

Thursday, JULY 16, 1998

So, I am sitting here in Florence, not even wanting to go to Prague tomorrow because not only am I stupid and have bought lots of things, but I am just tired in general. I miss my mommy now more then ever, and I just don't know what to think about the future. I don't know why I am spazzing so bad, but I am... Oh well I will be in another city learning a different money system tomorrow.

Sunday, JULY 19, 1998

I AM IN LOVE!!!!!!!!!!

I am soooooooooo fucking happy that I came to Prague last. It is so fucking cheap here, 26 crowns for a coke at Mickey d's, when 100 crowns are equal to 5 dollars. What a wonderful world. I should have waited to get Souveys until I got here. Oh well, live and learn.

I think of all the places I have traveled so far, this one and Amsterdam are the only cities I would live in. Maybe Paris as well.

I don't know why the French have such a bad rep. I used to believe the stereotype that they were awful until I was lost the other day. I had a lay over in Paris for 6 hours and I was going to be damned if I was going to spend that time in the airport so I went to the Louvre. It was amazing. I had a big long entry all ready to down load, but this computer doesn't use Corel so I can't open it.

When I was a girl, I read a book called From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler,

My dorm buddy (I'm staying in a "Hotel", which in Eastern Europe includes dorms and what have you) is from England. He is a accountant and is very proper which I think is funny because I just can't imagine what he thinks of me. He's here on business and when he is done we have decided to tour around together. Plus today is Sunday, so we have been looking around at building and I made him ride with me on the metro for a little while.

It was funny because he started talking about how he had been in Russia and he said in Russian that he speaks Russian and I replied that I also speak Russian and I think he was quite surprised to find an American that speaks Russian as well. It's really cool because we can say things to each other but people here understand what we are saying so it can be fun at times. His accent is so British, and he can't roll his Rs so I smile when I listen to him speak. I don't talk that much because I am more self conscious then if I were around another Russian, I don't know why.

It's strange to see how different we are and compare our two cultures. Naturally I often get (not just from him) that Americans have no culture and then I ask him "why is it I can watch only American programs when I am at home, but when I am abroad, then I can usually see the same ones." Well, I say that because I am sick of hearing people tell me that Americans are un cultured and what have you. I think I will just start agreeing with them to get them to shut the fuck up.

He's not too happy that most of what I have to talk about is Mom and hospitals (his mom also died from Cancer) and morbid things, and when I think about that, since it has been such a prevalent factor in my life, what else is there for me to talk about that is of any interest to me? But then I start thinking about all kinds of things to say and I am just amazed with all the things I know.

When I was with Hadley, I said "I have had brain surgery and mom died of cancer" or something to that effect and that was all that was really interesting about me and she said "that's not all of what you are about." And naturally, she is correct, it's just hard to push all the bad stuff to the wayside and concentrate on what is good, or what I should say is socially acceptable. I am learning, however, in leaps and bounds, and the bad stuff... I don't put that kind of value judgment on experiences. I think that experiences are all lessons and only other people put those kinds of judgments on them, that way, if I don't think poorly of them, then I don't regret anything I do. Or at least I am trying to think of experiences in this manner... reevaluating life and learning to forgive... I think I will forgive my father, he is, after all, just a man.

Wednesday, July 22, 1998

So, I am sitting here waiting for 5 PM to roll around so I can be in the presence of Jan Saudek. He is one of the greatest living photographers of this century. You may not know who he is, but you have seen his photographs, I assure you of that.

I have basically been fantasizing about this event for the past few days, paralyzed to a certain degree from accomplishing anything but the what ifs...

If I ask him to be his assistant, would he accept me?

What if he doesn't come?

What if there is a bomb that goes off and I am killed?

All kinds of stupid things running through my head. I have walked through the gallery twice now, looking at images that are so amazing and so wonderful, wishing I had been here at an earlier time so I could have bought a print I liked. He is rather reasonable, his work is magnificent, and I am just holding my breath, waiting to see him, be near him, look into his eyes and see if I see that part of me I hide from everyone else.

The accountant is a strange creature. I don't know what to make of him. I wish I could dismiss him as I do so many other people but there is something a little strange and different about him, and I cant' put my finger on it. I am too close to the situation to try to even begin to be objective at this point in time.

I think I scared him so bad he went screeching back into the arms of his ex-girlfriend after 6 weeks of separation. Lovely reminder of just what it means not to have the safety and joy of the comfortable relationship.

One of my displaced Kenfuckian pen pals wrote to me This thing about lovers: It is a fine line between settling for someone and finding someone who might make your heart skip a beat. Do you take what seems to work, or move on and hope something better, or better still, what you have always wanted, comes along. I don't know if I will have the courage to move on, or will I stay with what sort of works. I hope you can work that out too.

I already know that I want what makes my heart skip a beat, because that is what life is all about.

I think that I pissed him off by not being impressed by all the things he can do or the traditional ways that men try to impress women. I just don't give a shit. So what if you can make a million dollars, and quite frankly, I could care less about the usual manner that men try to impress women. I am, however, impressed with honesty and integrity, respect and intelligence.

He has been extrapolating his views on to me, and in my traditional Souther manner I have just listened. The other day, I quit listening and just ignored him and I think that drove him bats. I am sorry, but if I have to keep myself in line to be a productive member of society, I will be damned if I am going to listen to someone that doesn't think before they speak.

Anyways, I am rather impressed by the person he is, but there is still that something missing. He sees me more for who I am and that scares me to a certain degree. Eh, he'll go home and I will leave and then that will be that.

Jan, Jan, Jan... what a hunk of a man...

* * *

Genius reached out to take my hand from me. I think I was still blushing. How are you suppose to feel when you meet someone you idolize?

" I'd like you to make it out to Hadley"

" Hadky?"

" No, that's an l and an e."

" Where in the hell are you from?"

" Kentucky."

" AMERICA? Kentucky, Kentucky, Kentucky... Ah yes! The Bluegrass state! I was there before your mother was on this planet."

Cathy unloads a big dump. The great one has just proved how great and that much more wonderful he truly is. (NOTE: NOT ONE FUCKING CRACK ABOUT KENTUCKY FRIED CHICKEN) I wanted to be a smartass and reply "Well she ain't on the planet now." But I was just dumbfounded. He thinks I am younger then I am. I have them all believing I am just 19... again.

" REALLY?" I am totally astonished. I am blushing at this point.

" No Kidding. Do you know what is no kidding?"

Duh... uh-huh huh...no. "Yes, I speak English."

He is spending more time with me then he has anybody else. He talks to me because I am an American (CATHY'S TITS GET BIGGER AND SHE SWELLS AT HOW PATRIOTIC SHE HAS BECOME) and nobody else around him understands English. I ask him if he can use an assistant. "I just graduated from college and..."

" I have two and I am about ready to kill them both. You don't understand what I am saying do you?" He asks the girl on his left.

" A little bit." She answers, not having a fucking clue.

" Well, can I take you out to dinner?"

" How long will you be in Prague?"

" A couple of more days."

" Give me a call I am in the phone book."

Bullshit I think to myself. "Write it down, please."

He did as I asked and now... I am just floating... If he does agree to meet me, it will be one of those things I will never forget... A good start I think... Still this is a day I won't easily forget... WOW!

Thursday JULY 23, 1998

I am in such a yummy mood... I just got a good dose of myself where I feel myself all throughout me and nobody can say anything bad to me or be mean to me and I become this big fucking ball of fire and everything I touch comes to life. All of this is built on a fantasy that can be reality if I so chose.

I see myself in certain situations, making my life what I want it to be, differentiating myself from other people in my own little special way, ignoring them and what they believe to be right. I don't believe in a system that doubts itself. This I have learned above all else from the Englishman (there is a difference between him just being British by the way, since Britain is Wales, Scotland and England).

He tried last night to make me feel like a whore, a common thing among those types of people that have bought into the system, but he's had more sexual partners then I have. He has also been demeaning me to himself so he wouldn't fall in love with me. And I see through that ruse, even if he can't himself.

Why hold something sacred if you can demean it and make it foreign from yourself? That way, you can objectify it (a person) and dismiss it as something you are not. But he didn't understand a very fundamental thing about me, I know who I am, I don't lie to myself about anything I do or say, so when I say something aloud, then I usually know what the fuck I am talking about.

I do not hold anyone up to my standards, or expect from them what I expect from myself, there is no way that I can because humans are human, and we all make mistakes. The worst mistake I have made lately was with Hadley, and she has forgiven me and for that, I sent her that book from Jan Saudek. Plus remember earlier this month I couldn't figure out why in the hell I was wasting time on dead artists when there are ones alive that I admire?

I also try really hard not to impose my values on those I encounter or reveal attitudes unless similar views are expressed, I think before I speak and I suppose even though I have diarrhea of the mouth, I am careful just what it is I reveal of myself.

The Englishman tried to make me into someone I am not, and last night I exploded into a rage and yelled at him "You are the most reprehensible person that I have ever met!" No cuss words, the Queens English. I later apologized for my indiscretion, because I try to leave nothing in my life unresolved, that is why I can live without regrets!!!! (Me just realizing this is what a regret is!) This is what makes me different from those that live with regrets. I don't demean or belittle people for their faults, and I try my damnedest not to make them aware of their own inadequacies (Keir, you could learn from that one). Because if you do that, then that means that you don't accept people for who they are, and I accept myself first and others after me.... God Damn... I can't believe this, I want to hold on to my seat and take off.

Dr. Bergandi asked me once that if the world were filled with people like me, then it would basically be boring, but I couldn't disagree with him more, if we all felt this way about ourselves and carried it into our lives, we could all enrich society as a whole.

This is also why I try not to let what other people think about me affect me because I have met very few that think along this line. Their thoughts and attitudes reveal their true essence, and when you have a pure heart, such as I feel I do, then it's hard to take what others say to heart.

Prague is the city of magic, and now I realize why...

I LOVE MYSELF, I REALLY REALLY DO!

Friday July 24,1998

I am sitting here in the absolutely most beautiful airport... OK, that's a lie, but it's new and it belongs to Prague, therefore, that makes it great.

I have been thinking a lot about culture and class. I know most Europeans don't understand that America is the culture of many cultures, so we don't really have one belief system in place or necessarily have the same standards.

After spending time with the Englishman, I have figured out that there is a big difference between culture and class. I have lots of class, character, and sabvoiu fare. He didn't. He depending on an outdated system to define his beliefs and expected them to carry him into the next century. I try my damnedest to become a better person all the time and that is what class means to me.

It's not enough to have good breeding, I have that, but to possess the secret of class, that is what I have been trying to hone in on. Admittedly, I don't act or speak very lady-like because that is one of my defenses. If I can push you away with my verbal banter, then you really aren't worth wasting my time, but if you can get past that, and you start listening to what it is I have to say, you start to realize more and more that what I say isn't bullshit most of the time.

I recently realized as well that me asking a million questions is a way for me to cross examine a person to get them to reveal their true character, and although the Englishman has no class, he still has very strong attributes to his character. Between spending time with him and meeting Jan Saudek, I have never been so fucking happy in my entire life to be an American. Plus a conversation with another Southerner the other day set me off as well. There are certain things that being an American represent. We have the freedom to move about most places freely. We have the right to think whatever the hell we want and publish those fucked up views if we so please. I had the right to an education when many women on this planet can't even read.

We don't really have a waste of human potential, although if we weren't a lazy bunch, we could accomplish a whole hell of a lot more. This is the problem with the Russians. They are so well educated that surface things aren't as important to them. Sveta, Lena's sister, was like "why bother fixing something that is working when you can read?" and that is a very bourgeois attitude. Even though she is not a highly educated woman by her standards, by the world standards, she is very intelligent. If she only had a frame of reference for understanding just how perceptive she really is then I think she would be aghast at the way she sees herself now.

So... there are so many things. I had a nightmare last night, a really bad one at that, but I can't remember what it was. It was so bad, it woke me up. I wanted to talk with the Englishman one last time before I left, but it just didn't happen. I wanted to tell him so many things, like I could see the seems of his well structured life falling apart. I think he majored in accounting because he is under the illusion that numbers are practical and safe, and no matter what, statistics matter to him. What I love about numbers and mathematics is the chaos theory (MEEEE!!!!). Where you enter one unexplained or unknown and it totally fucks up the entire system.

I do not believe in the rigidity of those structures or foundations that society was founded upon for the reason that they rarely enter in the factor of feelings. Feelings are greater then any numbers or structures. If you feel a certain way about someone, then you will always have some kind of unexplained response when that person comes into your mind.

This is one way that I can justify being forgiving. I can forgive certain people of certain idiosyncrasies in their behavior if I have been able to determine their true intentions or true character. However, if a person is fundamentally flawed, and I know there is nothing I can do or say that will have any kind of impact on their life, then I just won't bother because any kind of relationship would be a waste of both of our times.

These kinds of people are few and far between. My brother, if he ever quits feeling sorry for himself, can really try to be a better person. Until he realizes certain facts of life, he is lost and there is nothing I can do for him. You can't break the rules of society until you are willing to learn how to play, it's that simple. Once you figure out the system, then you can poke it where it's tender or ticklish to get what you want out of life.

I am going to stop because I am starting to bore myself.

Saturday July 25, 1998

Thinking, thinking, thinking of 150 million things. It's so funny to be in a country where I finally understand the language and customs. I stared at the babushke on the bus. One helped me out and I offered her the equivalent of a dollar fifty and she wouldn't take it. She had tumors growing on her scalp, and if they were tumors, I don't know what they were.

Walking through a metro I was familiar with... Liuda lives close to here, and I wish I knew exactly where she lived because I am unsure of where she is working now. My life here picks up as if I never left. Fucking mosquitos. I thank god for them as well because now that I have been bitten by a Russian mosquito, the ones in other countries left my sweet Kentucky ass alone.

I laugh to myself thinking about how the Englishman didn't think I spoke very good Russian, but I am not into trying to prove myself to those types of people. Plus after being corrected on one word I refuse to speak again because I am intimidated, I don't impose my beliefs or myself upon anybody.

That whole situation with him un settles me to a certain degree. I want so much to make him understand, to share what it is I know, but I was belittled when I tried, so what do you do when you are put down but eventually quit trying? It should be no sweat off my back, but he challenged me in other ways as well. Too bad he was not a free thinker, although I could see little rips and tears where he was trying really hard to keep it all together. That breaks my heart, these people that need approval from other people, validation to live their lives. I can't understand why they need it. He would even chide me on how I kept my room and one thing I wanted to do before I came here was to have my stuff everywhere so I could put it all back in order again.

I suppose these types of people exist because they can't accept themselves and they need that rigid structure that society provides, even though it is a failed system. He said I was an anarchist, and that is a load of shit. I just think boundaries were meant to be tested. How can you push the limit if you just accept everything that is. The funny thing is that he accepted all the shit society puts upon him, but he questioned just about everything I said, and I really hate that because it gets old. You might as well be making me out to be a liar, and that's one thing I am not.

It is so comforting being here in Moscow. How can I look at it with virgin eyes so you could understand? The only way I can do that is through Anne because I have been intimate with her twice before. To me, coming here is like coming home almost. I feel so comfortable here, and I feel so alive. I loved Prague so much, God I loved Prague, but it's not Moscow. And I hate to reveal it, but the beer is 100 times better here then it is anywhere I have ever been on the planet (Baltica #9, BABY, that's all I have to say).

Lena wants me to move here. She is probably going to get married to an Italian and although I am so very happy for her, I am a wee bit sad at the same time because will life be the same here without her? I can move into the apartment, but then I would have to take care of babushka, and let's face it, do I really want to wake up next to a dead woman in the near future?

I suppose when it comes down to it, it doesn't really matter. If I can even find a job here. They are getting to be more strict with the tax laws, and I received a nice little note with my passport that tells me if I work here more then 183 days I am going to have to register to pay taxes, and that just bites because last year, people were getting paid under the table and didn't even report what they were making to their own government.

I bought some Baltica beer, one of the first things I did, and it's getting cold for me to drink tomorrow. Funny how comforting familiarity is. Once I stepped on the metro, I was giddy with delight. I love this city so much. I love that I understand the language, even if I can't speak it all that well (that's a crock of shit and you know it).

I thought of Jenna today, and how she told me that everything I try, I succeed, and she is right. I was talking with another girl yesterday and I was telling her how I can't switch gears like I can at home, but now that I am here, I find myself already occupied with 50 million thoughts. I think the reason I can do several things at once at home is that watching TV, doing laundry, and homework doesn't require an acute awareness that being in a different country does. I am comfortable here, in Russia though. My summer Place...

That song was mom and dad's love song, Summer Place, odd that I remembered that here. Mom has been dead a little over 5 months now... not six yet, but fast approaching. I don't miss her so much anymore... and when I tell someone she is dead, I use those exact words, no emotion, no sadness, just a fact of life. I wanted to cry the other day, and maybe that's why I had the nightmare, but I just can't do it. I do, however, wish Grover were here with me now.

Learning how to take care of me... Lena couldn't believe how I understand so much now. I told her that my head is clear of worry and that I am able to think intelligibly. She is amazed at all the place I have been to, but I suppose she just doesn't have the desire to keep moving, look around and take note.

My mind races a mile a minute, all the pleasure of being alone with people around me at the same time. They can't read me so easily, there fore I am masked away, hidden from their thoughts and feelings of me. My cup. I have a cup here and it has me. No one is allowed to drink out of it while I am gone because it possesses me. I rather like that idea of an object belonging to a person instead of a person possessing the object.

I am giddy from Lena. If she gets married, or I should say when, she will be so happy. I think she lucked into the perfect man for herself. She has waited many years to do so, and this guy is 5' and has never been married either. To see her walking around happy just thinking about the prospect makes me happy as well. I wish I could find that man that can look at me and recognize me for who I am and take off with that, nurture that part of me that is so green. I have had a taste of her, that sensual woman that can be so much. It will take a very special man to draw her out because she has been forced away by other men that did not understand her. I think it will take a man that can recognize it within himself for me to be happy as well.

So many people have these ideas of what a mate should be like. I don't really care so much about his age or his looks, but what I care about are the things that I know will help me get through this life. I don't think many people think about what it is they need versus what it is they want. They try to conglomerate the two into one mass and that never works.

I saw my father do that to my mother. He consumed her for everything she was worth and instead of being a piece of human waste, she respected her self enough to fight for what dignity she had, and maybe she fought dirty, but in the end, I feel that she still won although it's rather sad to think it was a competition to the death with her instead of just letting him and the situation go. To love someone enough never to let them go scares me to no end. There has to be a point where you say enough is enough and just walk away. That's what I do. That's what I have always done.

It drives my brother crazy because I can walk away. He wants to force his opinions and ideas upon me and I won't allow myself to be sueded that way. I like the idea of someone's thoughts and feelings slowly becoming a part of your subconscious, the way I do. You can fight it all you want and say I am wrong, but in the end, you know I am right about some of these views that I write about. Not all of them, but for the most part... I have observed human behavior carefully and am aware of why people do the things they do, and that is one of the reasons I can remain objective and not be so judgemental.

Ultimately, I can excuse people for their poor behavior to ignorance or not wanting to change something they are comfortable with, but that doesn't mean I have to stand for improper behavior. If I expect people to act better, then they usually do. It's all a part of what I have had to do to temper myself and my beliefs. If I have to behave, then so do you. This is one of the reasons when Roman left he said "you make me want to be a better person." He was open to what I had to share, just I was open to him and his beliefs.

If I can meet several people that are willing to be open in this manner, then I am able to take a piece of them away that I need. If they aren't open, then there really isn't much of a point in trying. The Englishman was open just a little crack, and instead of allowing me in that window, he shut me out by demeaning me and my experiences, my knowledge, me. I suppose if I were not an open person, and there was someone standing before me that was a free thinker and accepted certain truths about a life I lead, then I wouldn't care for what they thought or felt either. It's not like what has happened with the Englishman hasn't happened before, apparently it has or I wouldn't be able to recognize the pattern.

I am just tired of coming across those kinds of people. They are very taxing on me and who I am because I am trying to explain myself to them and if they have no frame of reference, then I have to start from scratch and that gets old. I am sick of it.

The Englishman hangs out with all these professionals and think that by doing so, he is elevating himself to their level. I establish my levels for myself and certain people can go deeper then others. I look for status in a different manner. I am not impressed with what normal people are impressed with. I look for truth and integrity and an ability to recognize true beauty, not what society recognizes as beautiful. God help the man I meet that can match me on these levels, or I should say God help human kind because if I can find what I need to push myself harder in another human, I have no idea of what I can accomplish, once the sex isn't so new.

By me seeking this in other people, then that means the friends I make will stay loyal and trustworthy as well. There is nothing that can come between us.

I spoke with Melissa earlier, she is so amazing. I get lectured about sending home shit in the boxes I have sent home so far. She was excited to get something in the mail and curious as to what I sent. She laughed when she got to certain objects I shared with Keir and I told her the story. She snickered and said "as long as you didn't cause any physical damage, who cares." I tell her again what he said to me and she said "Don't even think about what he said about you, you know it's not true so don't lose any sleep over it."

Then I tell her about the Englishman and she laughs. "He's English, what do you expect?" I smile. There is nothing like having a best friend you can share everything with and know that she is not going to judge you on stupid thoughts or strange behavior. I couldn't tell just anybody the things I share with her, and I totally respect her thoughts and feelings. We don't agree on every point, but we see eye to eye in most respects.

She tells me that she figured out why I am looking forward to going to the Caribbean with her and Colin so much. "It's so you will have someone to share in the experience, and there, you never know." In retrospect, she is correct and she is wrong all at the same time. I know over here, I have to depend on myself and that's what I needed to break me out of the funk of being sad, after all, mom hasn't even been dead 6 months yet. I think if I didn't come here and do the things I have, I would have been stuck thinking of shit that would never disappear.

I spoke with Lesli as well. She told me they couldn't even begin to appraise mom's house for two reasons: the first being that everything is everywhere and the second is because there is no other house to compare it to. So Thomas went to the bank to try to get a loan, but there is no way in hell anyone will give him one, because he has fucked up his credit. So I said something to her about the appraisal needing to be done back in march and she said "you are just going to have to get on my ass."

" I don't want to get on your ass."

" Well, you know it won't get done unless you ride my ass."

I told Melissa about how I exploded at the Englishman and how I was surprised at myself. She was surprised as well. She said "well, you are so laid back..."

It really takes a lot these days to get me that angry, and for me to explode at him was very uncharacteristic of me. I have had a lot of people piss me off but he went one step beyond. Besides, I realize now at this point in my life when it's going to work with me and a guy and if it's not, I am going to have fun anyway. There is no sense in making the situation worse by acknowledging you are just using one another for that brief moment of contact we all need to feel human.

I think I can't wait to go on vacation with her because not only is she sensible, but I will be in the Caribbean and Mexico and I will be with someone I choose to care about deeply. I know that she can never be replaced in my heart because she is the first friend that accepted me as a friend and not as someone that she could use. I have had really shitty luck with people I thought were my friends and they end up just being fake. I took it and took it because I didn't know there was any other way, then one day, I realized that caring about someone isn't a 100% me do everything to keep the other person happy.

And the older I get, the more I realize that if I don't share someone's opinions about anything, then it's just a waste of my time and theirs if I attempt to appease them. They don't need my validation just as I don't need theirs. Wanting validation is a totally different game. I do desire to get some kind of external validation for some of the views I hold, but most of the time... I have to ignore other people's opinions because we all aren't aware of the same things.

Sunday July 26, 1998

Russian mosquitos are the most vicious creatures on the planet. They are the smallest little fuckers I have ever seen and they dive bomb you in formation as you sleep. The evidence wouldn't be so bad, I mean what's a mosquito bite the size of pin head? The really bad thing is as you sleep, they buzz around your ear and keep you awake.

I laid here last night, and I thought I had protected myself well, with my denim shirt because Lena had my plug-in mosquito killer from the first time I was here. After the first few attacks, I decided that enough was enough and I drunkenly stumbled into her room and stole the mosquito thing from her. I scared the piss at her while I was at it, which made me feel a little bad, but I slept well the rest of the night.

Funny how when I was in Amsterdam, Spain, Italy and the Czech. Republic the mosquitos left me the fuck alone. When I go home, they just eat my ass alive. So the only two places that I am affected by these creatures is at home and here.

Lena can't stand living here any longer. She has had enough. She knows how in Italy everything works the way it is suppose to and that most of the problems Russia has are just bullshit logistical ones. She can't believe what she has to put up with, and she hates that she needs a visa to go anywhere... so she is rather excited about leaving.

When I was in Spain, Gabriel said to me "You want to live in a place where you are afraid to drink the water, eat the food, and (something else I have forgotten)?" When he put it that way, I was like, well, it does sound rather stupid to want that kind of life, doesn't it? I don't know why I like it here so much. It's like a disease you get that is incurable and indescribable.

I don't know why this time I am more comfortable then any of the times before. I guess third time is a charm. I suppose one of the reasons I like it here so much is that I am not allowed to do what I want so it's a challenge to get away with what it is that I desire, or I find something else to desire. It's like a game. Someone tells you that can't be done and I know there is a way around everything. I don't take no for an answer very easily.

* * *

I am about to go into explicit details about something I feel very strongly about now.

Part of the problem me and the Englishman had was that he wanted to fool around and after the first night, there was no way I was going to let him touch me again.

I wouldn't go into this kind of detail normally, but I have convinced myself that I need to. He wouldn't fuck me that night because he had broken up with his girlfriend not long ago and I understood that it's hard, plus "You never know about someone."

So we played around instead. I let him spank me and it was fine and dandy and playful at first. You know my tolerance for pain and I have never really been spanked before so I let him do it again and was telling him to do it harder. Well half way into it, he pulled down his belt and started hitting me and I started screaming for him to stop after the forth one and he didn't. After that, I really didn't see the point of being with him that way if he wasn't going to see to my satisfaction and he was going to hurt me again.

I can remember how I felt at that moment I yelled for him to stop. He took the belt and when I was telling him harder, that was with his hand. Well, you know how voices can carry and he assumed I meant for him to have free reign with the belt. Well, it wasn't until today that I looked at my ass and saw bruises that he must have caused over a week ago. The day after I told him that my ass was sore and he didn't believe me. There were no mirrors so I could look to see what kind of damage he inflicted but today, when I realized that there was no other way I have hurt myself, I got angry not only at myself, but especially him, and I feel that me calling him a reprehensible person was right on target. Anyone that can't control themselves in that manner should not play in such a way.

I don't know if I am more angry with myself or him, probably him for not controlling himself. I think the major problem for me after that was I had convinced myself that he was a bad lover because not only did he mention that he was selfish, but I think the point of having a lover is to boost your self-esteem because you know it's only for a certain duration of time that you are going to be with that person, not forever, so I don't feel that you lover should make comments on your lifestyle or how you portray yourself, and he made comments to me about how I don't take care of myself (how could I when I had been traveling and I know I am not thin by any means and he made a comment about my weight and I said to him "well, when you are really sad, what do you do?" His response was "Eat chocolate." Then I was like, I had been watching my mother die for the past ten years and there really wasn't anything I could do, so I found solace in food. It doesn't call me names, it doesn't hurt my feelings, and I like the way it tastes...)

So the basic problem I had with him was control. I wasn't about to get naked for him again not only for that reason, but he was the one that didn't want to fuck me because he was still thinking about his ex. Fine, you know, I respect that kind of decision, but with me, you don't say those kinds of things and then expect me to seduce you. No way. If you change your mind and you want to, then fine, I was there, but he told me one thing and meant another and I went by what he said, not what I picked up on.

Besides, I am too old for that game. It's not worth it to me. Ladies, if you are looking for a man to spank you, make sure he has read some literature about it, there is tons on the Internet, because there is a right way and a wrong way, and if you haven't guessed, this is the WRONG way because it's not suppose to show, especially with bruises.

This also doesn't mean that those people concerned for my safety need to write to me and tell me to be a good girl. I knew what I was getting into, I just didn't know how bad it was going to be and next time I will be more careful. I should have left him to himself after that, but I was somewhat optimistic, as I always try to be.

Monday July 27, 1998

I am re-convinced that if you are good to people, then it shows and in turn they will be good to you. I signed up for Internet access and did it all in Russian! I asked this one jerk if he thought it was hard for an American to get work in Moscow and he said "You must be fluent." and I was like, well, I suppose you don't know other foreigners...

Anyways, the girl that was waiting on me said that I spoke better Russian then they did English and that made me feel really good. When I left, she gave me an address book and I almost started crying because I really didn't expect her to be so kind. It is like, 7 kopecks a minute here, I am going to be careful not to abuse my stuff though.

I had to give up my passport today and the girl was like "It will be ready on Friday." and I was like, "Bullshit. It can be done on Wednesday (even tomorrow if you are industrious)" but I got her to say by Thursday. All this time without my passport. I can't find Liuda. I am really sad about that. I tried calling where her dorm is, but... This is Russia and one must accept such things.

There is a way... I haven't totally given up.

So, I went to the NAF NAF store today and bought ' styles of the same shirt. I bought one last year and it's my favorite shirt on the planet. Now all I have to do is get 5 black leggings and go to work like that. HA HA.

So... I think I have found a job, or at least I have been actively looking and there is this job outlined in this paper that is PERFECT, actually there are two. My family would kill me... and after today I have given some consideration to what it is I want to do. I don't really care if I work here or KY, I suppose if I work here then at least I can say I worked in Moscow for a year. But the access to all the applications and stuff will be more readily available in the states. I think I will go for interviews and think about coming here. I am going to apply and see what happens, I mean what the fuck?

The Englishman taught me so much and reminded me so much about life. I do not want to give most of my life away to corporate America or anybody else, so I will more then likely re-apply to graduate schools. Plus the more I think about him and how he gave off the appearance of being happy, I laugh to myself.

I told him that I didn't respect the teaching profession and he blew my head off. I don't. I respect teachers and such, but I sure as hell don't respect teaching as a profession. Or doctors. Or any job where you give so much of yourself to "helping" mankind. I am sorry, I wish I didn't feel this way because I know it trounces on so many people's belief's on what is honorable and what have you. I mean, without a teacher, I couldn't write such things, but why should I respect any profession where you spend most of your energy?

I like what I am doing, writing, photographing. People can come and look at what I have done and then comment when they choose, and I somehow am sharing pieces of myself while still remaining autonomous. Life is a strange thing that way.

So, I was trying really hard to look at Moscow with virgin eyes today, and OH MY GOD! It was such a beautiful place today! The sun was shining and the weather... yummy... not too hot and not too cold. I was just loving looking up into the sky and watching the shadows falling across buildings, bellowing clouds in the sky, some darker then others, and the incessant chatter that I understand! I can't tell you how happy I was.

Both Roman and Anne called me last night. Roman called me when he returned from his annual swim party. I wish I could have gone, but I think if he had of called me Friday I wouldn't have made it anyway. He's excited to see me, and today when I thought about it I am afraid I am just going to break down in his arms and never stop crying because I haven't cried since... I can't recall which city, but I know it has been longer then 3 weeks. Plus, he understands me and I think I will feel safe enough to cry in his arms. Plus when he left, I didn't really cry so it's better if I cry when I first see him, don't you think? That way when I leave, I won't have to cry and he won't remember me that way.

Then Anne... oh Anne... She called at 9 or 10 pm her time, which is about ' or 5 my time, in the morning. I honestly wanted to kill her but I talked with her about all the things going on. She really loves e-mail. I tried to get her to do it a long time ago, but she never listened to me. Eh, live and learn. So... she talked with me about the shit Lesli is pulling now that I am not there and Lesli even called me to try to FAX some documents to me so I could sign, but naturally there is no even split, so fuck her, I am not signing anything again. She can wait. Plus if she isn't careful, I will force the sale of the house because it has been over 2 months since we spoke with th lawyer and that was the time frame he put on it. I figured they were going to do anything about it too fast and I am sick of them, that's another reason I came here. Now they are blaming any technical problems on me being out of the country, fuck this noise.

Plus Granny and Pop are giving her money and you know, she made her bed, let her fucking lie in it. Andy and I could never understand what in the fuck they spent their money on because we led a better life then thy did and we were on scholarship and loans. I just don't even want to think about it or I will get sick. That's why all that shit is on the other side of the planet.

Part of me wants to say fuck writing my papers, just have fun and take the class again this fall. That way I can get all my applications to schools ready and do a job I really enjoy. I actually miss the people I worked with. I suppose there could be worse things. I think I will leave my shit in storage and just go there when I want to be alone and move from friend to friend.

Bet none of you out there can find the address where I am living now... Or it's location. That's one reason why I wouldn't mind living here. Nobody is going to try to find me and I am the biggest wacko I know here.

Well, to be perfectly honest, I have no clue what in the hell I am going to do when I go back, and I suppose it doesn't even matter. I know if I finish my papers, then I don't have to bother with school, but part of me wants to take this class because it is PhD Kloner and he makes my brain hurt. Well, the semester isn't over yet... so I still have some time to work on them if I desire.

Tuesday, July 28, 1998

It's a beautiful day in Moscow today

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

Could you be mine?

Would you be mine?

Won't you be my neighbor?

OK, so it's almost impossible to be my neighbor unless you are old or Russian. Wait, I mean Russian and old because where I live there are a ton of babushke.

I received the most beautiful letter in the mail and this is the main part: Upon reflection the reason I find it attractive> coherence, truth, honesty and un defeated justification! .....(Aspects of beauty?) My heart skips ever so slightly a beat. I love getting e-mail from strange men, there is just something about it...

So, I imagine I am going to talk about the Englishman until I am blue in the face, trying to resolve everything that happened within myself because he affected me greatly. I think I affected him more because the first day I asked him what color his eyes were exactly and I said "Mine are hazel."

And he replied that "sometimes they are green and sometimes they are hazel." And when he said that, I realized that people that act like they aren't affected are painfully affected or effected, I can't remember which one right now. I know I made him question some of his doubts. I think part of the reason I do such things is so that people I am asking realize for themselves why it is they do certain things. I could really care less in most cases, but if you look me in the eye and know what the fuck you are saying, I respect that above all else.

I know that when I look someone in the eye that I usually know what it is I am saying, and that is confidence and most people don't have that kind of confidence. I am not going to allow a man to shake it, either. That's why it's fun to argue with them.

It is such an amazing day, chilly and just oh so right. I love Russia for this reason. It reminds me of a Kentucky autumn. Lena and I are going out to a new shop today... I LOVE SHOPPING!!!!

Wednesday July 29,1998

Lena and I did so much yesterday. We started kind of late, about 1, and ran and ran and ran. We were going to the new stores they have near Krasne Ploshet, or Red Square. I was just amazed. It is such an expensive place, unlike anything I have ever seen in my entire life. When you look at the outside, there are no real signs of a complex being there. All you see are fountains and just really cool sculptures. Then when you go inside, it's as if you have walked into the garden of Babylon. I just can't describe to you and there is no way photos can do it justice. This is one of the reasons I love Moscow so much, it changes so much from each time I have been here before.

As you walk under the domes, you can see the fountains spewing into the air and water falling down. It is so beautiful. Then to realize all this is just for shopping. It's like this is a new church and the new spirituality is shopping. And I just about had to shed a tear when I saw the Sbarro. I cracked up so much because one of the things Melissa and I love to do at the mall at home is sit in the piazza eating spinach calazones and making fun of what the girls around us are wearing.

So there I was, wanting to eat something, listening to Lena say "Did you see how big that girls' ass was?" laughing to myself that she could just about pick up on what I was thinking and what I do at home. We had an amazing day today.

Oh, we also went to the Museum of Archaeology of Moscow . It was interesting to see all the artifacts, especially the old silver money of Catherine the Great, and the old pottery. But the best part was touching the old bridge they recovered from the 17th century that used to connect Tverskaya street to Red Square. Now the river is underground and I suppose they just covered up the bridge since the river dried up.

I really love Lean a lot. When I first met her, it was on her birthday, and I couldn't even remember how to say hello in Russian because I was just so dumbfounded about being here. Babushka fell down and was in the hospital the entire time I was here. I went to St. Petersburg one week and that was the only week Lena ever spent alone in her life because someone has always been here (If I didn't have personal time to myself growing up... shudder... it's another culture, Miss Clay). So we had some fun. I bought her a cord less iron that year because I honestly believe that although real irons (the kind you set on the stove) are nice to look at, there is absolutely no reason they should be used today.

Then the second time I was here, I was just running away from home (I suppose that is what I am doing now as well). I didn't want to fuck with anyone and I acted like I didn't understand anything that was going on so Lena would constantly yell at me.

Now that I have been to Italy, and Sveta thinks I am wonderful, then Lena's opinion of me has increased as well. We are getting along so well now and part of that is because I am not spazzing about mom dying anymore and part of it is because she is happy she is getting married, if all goes OK. Plus I think she finally understands that I have a genuine interest in how she is doing. I don't believe in giving so much to charities at this stage in my life, but I do believe in helping people I know that are tangible out.

We have talked about so much. My head hurts to a certain degree. I told her today that before I was always so worried how I was going to live without my mom and now, it's not as bad as I thought. She told me that now it is OK, but the first time a real problem arises, it's going to be difficult because the first thing I want is my mommy. And I know that. When Michelle was being such a bitch to me, I just wanted my mommy to come and protect me from her. I did come here to re-learn how to fight my own battles, and I don't think saving my money and sitting on my ass at home would have done anything to help my spirit. I hope when this is all done, I look back and say to myself that if I hadn't have done this, then I would have thrown myself into a loop like the rest of my family where I wasn't experiencing anything new to break me away from the grief. Although I can flat out say mom is dead today, I still have feelings associated with that I will not show.

Lena understands too, and that's what I need. When I first heard her and Babushka yell at each other, I thought Lena was a meanie. Then the next time I thought maybe Babushka was saying stupid things and that's why Lena did it. This time, I understand what they are saying when they yell at each other, and it's just a release. That's the way they get out their aggression, and I appreciate it because Lena and I talked about that today as well. I told her how I felt about it and she explained it further.

Talking so intensively in Russian and seeing all these exquisite things has just utterly exhausted me.

* * *

So, I know you are sick of hearing me talk about the Englishman, but I just have to give you a healthy dose of him everyday so you can understand why it is I almost went mad. I am sorry, but I don't respect people that have gone from relationship into relationship because I see how many of my friends have done it and I see how it fucks up their head and they kind of quit thinking for themselves. I think that it takes a lot of courage to be alone especially because society kind of mandates us to find another half.

I have been reading in The Tao of Psychology, Synchronicity and the Self, (a book PhD. MacNabb gave to me for my birthday) that Jung was cut off from all his professional colleagues. I think isolation is essential to awareness, because if you aren't allowed to think for yourself and come up with concepts on your own, then you have bought into believing what other people want you to believe.

So, I wrote this little narrative on why I feel I don't need to be married at this point in my life.

Why Marriage and Catherine Clay don't exist.

by Catherine E. Clay

Uh hum (me clearing my throat, to be read like a third grader giving a book report). Marriage is a bad thing. My mom and dad were married and that did not work, therefore, marriage is wrong. It's society's way of trying to force us to conform to an ideal established long ago that is no longer efficient or conducive to society, that's why there are so many divorces today.

From my experiences with Miss Clay, she is a rather wild kind of woman, and as we know, once wild things are not allowed to exist in their natural habitat, they die. Therefore, the idea of being a possession is a frightening prospect that she runs from.

Now if she finds a man like herself, and he meets all the criteria, then FINE, I will get married. Until I find him, I will remain blissfully single.

OK, cut the third grade shit now. I will use a great analogy that anybody can understand. I had a cat named Cootie that I love(d) and miss dearly. He was wild when I got him. He was a free thing that was allowed to do what ever the hell he wanted on a farm. Then one day, this big evil creature who shall remain nameless came and snatched him from his habitat.

The creature wanted a companion for her other cat that needed another being like himself to love because the evil creature, although wonderful and great, was not like him. So poor Cootie was forced into captivity. He hid inside the house in small crevices only he could find (something I used to do as a child. I would crawl deep into the closet and fall asleep and by the time there was a man hunt for me, Lesli would search and find me asleep, hidden from the world. This happened on several occasions), so the evil creature would have to wonder where he was. She eventually learned to just leave food out for him and get stolen glances every once in a while.

Time wore on and Cootie eventually calmed down enough so he could pet you. I say he could pet you not you could pet him. He would rub up on your leg and purr and just enjoy being near you. Every once in a while, I could hold him. (It got to be a challenge between me and Andy on who could hold him the longest, needless to say, I always won). But as soon as he got that wild look in his eyes, I had to release him or suffer blood loss.

If you read my diary consistently, you will know not long after mom died, Cootie disappeared. I don't think of him so much as dead, because he ran away several times, but I think of him as missing. There is a hunk of my heart that is missing him, but I don't doubt he exists.

That is how you handle a wild thing. You let me warm up to you and don't try to force your opinions or views upon me, and I can calm down and be with you. This is how Andy was able to posses me as long as he did, he was calm, he left me alone when I needed to be left alone, and he gave me lots and lots of space. Well, so why did I break up with him? (I have to remind myself of this) The basic reason was sex. I am a very sensual creature and I need that constant affirmation of my sensuality, and he can't give it to me because he doesn't acknowledge his own, if it even exists. Andy would be just about perfect if he had a sex drive that was equal to mine. But just about and perfect are two totally different things.

So now you know how I feel about that. There is a lot more, dealing with the consumption of my mother by my father, but this gives you a basic idea of my true nature. I crave to find someone like me, but I am not about to settle into something I know isn't right. A lot of people settle and if I don't feel it, I am not going to do it. I refuse not (look at that, what horrible English... I swear, learning one little language where double negatives are used... you blow everything you ever learned about English grammar) to deny my feelings. I think too many people ignore their intuition and that's why they think they are in love one day, and the next day, they weren't so sure.

Now I am going to talk about why I am glad to be American, and why it is I have absolutely no desire to return to Britain. I am so American that I still feel somewhat responsible for committing genocide. There is a reason both sides of my family left that dreadful place for the land of opportunity, and after being around HIM, I have figured out why people wanted to leave such an oppressive society. Freedom should be a fundamental guarantee. All people should have the freedom to write or read what they want, think what they want, and do what they want, even if it lands you in the slammer for 5-10 years. Hey, if what you do hurts no body but yourself, then I am all for it.

I can be as expressive and free as I want when I am in America. Although people may think I am weird if I do something a little or a lot strange, it's still O.K. People can accept that.

One night, he was all serious and I remember him the most that night because he seemed so sweet. But what he had to say really pissed me off and that was that because we have food, shelter, and clothes, that we really have nothing to complain about. The Africans that live without these fundamentals of life are the ones that have something to complain about.

So, I let him think that. If I start believing in this bull malarkey, then that means all the experiences I have had are shit and I have nothing to feel good about but the good experiences. I am so sorry, but I think I understand when an experience isn't beneficial to my mental health, and although I am a privileged American, there is still a lot wrong with the system that needs to be fixed.

Plus, by convincing himself of this, he has invalidated all the feelings he has about bad experiences he can't deal with. I am sorry, but my problems are not so impenetrable that I won't allow myself to feel for me. I have tried that road as well, and I could only keep up the illusion for so long before it smashed in my face and hurt me more severely.

I don't know what it sounds like to you, but I am so glad I met this man because I can take everything he said or did and pick it apart bit by bit and reiterate everything I have come to believe in through the fallacies he chooses to live his life by. I think meeting a person that shakes you fundamentally is a challenge that I rather enjoy, a sport, you could say. After all, I am not chasing down any bunnies for dinner tonight, and you know how I love to have new things to talk about...

Thursday July 30,1998

Today was another amazingly beautiful day in Russia, and I was entranced in a coma sleep. It was so nice to sleep like the dead, but I was awakened by some workers doing construction on this building I am living in that was meant to be condemned. Ah, that's Russia for you.

So, I think Roman thought that I was just going to show up in Volgagrad and not have made any plans, but I really wanted to see Siberia. I have to get a visa to get into the Ukraine so we can go to this dance party. I am glad he didn't surprise surprise me with this like he initially wanted to because surprises cost a lot of money and although I still have money now, I need to be careful.

I called Lesli out yesterday and she went back to the tactic of using tears. I am sorry, but she can't make me feel for her anymore. Maybe I am just a cruel bitch, but she can't see what I see and how she has been manipulating Anne and me. "I didn't ask you for the money."

No, you didn't ask, you used guilt and manipulation to get what you want. If you outright asked for something and I denied you, then that would make me look like the bitch. By manipulating our emotions, you didn't have to ask so you wouldn't feel bad if we said no. I really need to talk to Melissa now. She makes sense to me about these things. And she has my best interest at heart where I give too much of it away.

So, I have been reading Motherless Daughters, which is another reason why I am probably a little distraught. I read it and I go, that's not me, I don't feel that way, but that right there is me. For example: So here I am: I look like a woman, act like a man, and underneath it all still feel like a child, constantly looking for someone to assure me I'm competent enough, attractive enough, good enough as I am.

A motherless woman is a walking paradox. At the same time that she emits qualities of personal strength, the loss of a mother frequently has damaged her self-esteem, eroded her self-confidence, and evaporated her secure base. This is the fundamental insecurity that make her scan a room of women and conclude she doesn't fit in. Other women have mothers, she things, but I only have myself. Never mind that she has a father or siblings or close friends or a spouse. In a crowd of other women, as a female, she feels alone. Fierce independence and self-sufficiency are her shield, thrust forward as her public display of competence-despite-loss and drawn close as her private protection against the crushing loneliness she'd otherwise feel.

So maybe I am lonely, and I don't really realize it. But the things she goes on to say about how women don't feel that they are good enough as their mothers... well, maybe I have done a 360 because I feel like I am not making the same mistakes with my life that she did. I didn't fall in love with a jerk when I was 16, have an abortion, and then marry him later. I think she resented the independence she instilled in me. And I also realize that my mother was only human, which some of these women make them saints.

Andy's mom told me that you start forgetting the bad stuff they did and start remembering all the good stuff that happened, but I think like the abuse my dad rendered me, I will never forget. It's ingrained in me as much as any memory I can't forget.

I am doubly fucked at the way I see myself, since now I am motherless and since I was raised by my father. My mom didn't take great care of herself, the way society wants us to, so I used her as an example. But I still had my dad's idea of the way a woman should be rolling around there as well. I really respect Andy because he didn't care how I looked, he loved me for who I was instead of how I looked. Sometimes, he would look at me and start crying because he thinks I am so beautiful, and when you have a man do that to you, it's kind of hard to believe anything anybody ever has to say about your looks.

The more I think about it, the more I think I am stupid for leaving him. But he doesn't feel right to me. Maybe I just needed to see what kind of jerks exist for me to really understand what he is about and respect him for that. But then again, we are still young and I want different things out of life then he does. He is working himself to death right now and I can't stand not having attention.

PhD. Bergandi saw us together before he started seeing me separately and he see that situation as I am his mommy and he liked it that way. I tried to get him to understand certain things, but he's one of those people that is so smart, he doesn't realize what's going on around him, although he understands that his parents didn't talk with him when he was growing up.

I suppose it's hard to take a creature that has been told what to do all its life and then try to nurture it after it has developed. That's one thing I am really grateful I had my mother for. Dad would violently tell us what to do during the week and on the weekend, mom would have to work all that anger we had out of us.

She had custody every weekend. He us a lawyer and that's why he got custody, and that's also why he got the visitations set up the way he did, so my mom would have no social life. Not that it really mattered because she was being slowly consumed with cancer and didn't have much energy left for us. She gave us what she could, however, and I know how hard it was sometimes.

When we first moved in with her, when I was 15, that had to be the hardest time. Then there were a few Christmases before that that just killed her because she had to buy us used toys. We were kids, we didn't know the difference and I naturally still have some of these toys. The things that society makes out to be so important are so incidental. If you live you life trying to make other people happy, then when you are done, what have you done for yourself?

That's why I like changing so much. I am trying to figure out what is right for me and what I want out of life. I don't think I am that bitter about the events that have transpired in my life, but some of them are still very painful.

I tried to explain to Tanya what my father was like, and she just couldn't understand. It's one of those things I think you have t experience to understand. When a friend of mine was getting a divorce from his wife, I told him to go to dad because he would take care of him. When he sat in the office and waited for his appointment and listened to the way my father spoke to the people that worked for him, he was just horrified. He told me listening to him was like "listening to Hitler."

I laughed to myself and said "that's the nick-name we gave him."

To live in constant fear of someone is not a healthy thing. Especially a human being. When I was 15 and I realized I didn't have to put up with that shit any longer, I was elated. When I was 20 and entered the relationship with Andy and realized that I was going to be treated like a human, I tried to kill myself because I didn't feel like I deserved to be treated with respect, kindness, or love.

When I couldn't drive Andy away, and I got comfortable, I started to work a lot of that shit out. I am grateful to him for putting up with my shit, because I have changed so much in so many ways, and in others, I am still the same. That's why I can put up with a lot of shit today, and that's also why I called that Englishman reprehensible because he exhibited some of the same attitudes and behaviors of my father, and people that are unaware of their behavior is just another way of saying they just don't care.

Well, I do care, but I am also trying to learn how not to take things so personally. I forget that other people aren't on the same level as me, like my sister. I didn't mean to make her cry, but there are certain things she isn't doing that need to be done. I realize that she has a life and this and that, but she also has responsibilities that she undertook that are over her head. I don't mean it as a slam against her personally, she just needs to realize her limitations and work with what she's got instead of acting like super woman. Mom was super woman, not Lesli.

I am painfully aware of what limitations I have and those around me as well, and that's why I can't expect other people to understand or be aware of what they can not see. Part of this is the ESP thing. That's something I don't like to talk about because people don't understand and when you try to explain it to them, it all gets misconstrued into this hokey parlor trick when that's not what it is. It's one of those unexplainable things that you experience when you know, you just know certain things about certain people. Or I can feel the way people feel when I meet them. I am very disarming, and I can get just about anybody to tell me anything if that's what I want. I suppose anybody can do that, all you have to do is listen to what they are saying.

I feel like I am going to need to go into this abuse thing that I suffered under my dad, but not today. People that have never been abused will never understand what it feels like (especially from a parent, the people you are suppose to trust) and those that understand really need no further explanation, so maybe I won't go into it.

Friday July 31,1998

So I see some asshole signed my guestbook that I was "pretty stuck on yourself." What the fuck ever.

I admit that I am pretty wonderful, but I really try hard not to be conceited, or stuck up, or terribly egotistical. When I come across someone that exhibits those behaviors, then naturally I am.

LIUDA JUST CALLED ME!!!! I am so happy! I have been trying to find her for a week and I finally saw someone that knew her and I swear that I am just so happy. I need to leave in a few minutes so I can meet her.

Today has been an up and down kind of day. Earlier, I was so sad. I almost started crying in the metro. I did not know what the fuck to think. I probably shouldn't be reading Motherless Daughters now, but, what can I do? I don't see the point in bringing that book if I am not going to read it.

Anyways... back to being conceited. There are certain qualities I feel that I possess that everyone should, and one of those is confidence. I don't know where it comes from, and sometimes it's just a facade, but for the most part, when I know something, I pretty much know it or try to know it inside and out.

I cried and so did Liuda when she saw me. It turns out that there has only been an apartment building separating us the whole time, how strange. She is working for Herbal Life , one of the ultimate pyramid schemes. She wants to get me involved, I can see it by the gleam in her eye and how she won't "talk business" now.

But I don't really give a shit. I will buy stuff from her, but I won't sell that kind of stuff. I don't think it's very ethical making money off of other people's work, it's like working for corporate America, and you know how I despise that.

Work for myself, maybe I will have to settle into some kind of job like that for a while, but, eh cie la vie.

I couldn't believe how much I talked with Liuda. She was surprised at how much my Russian has improved. I spouted off like a gun, shooting off all this information. I was surprised how fast it all came spilling out. Everything I had done over the past year. She wasn't mad that I didn't have a present.

So... you can't imagine my surprise when I realized she lived one building away. She is renting a room and it is quite reasonable. She won't let me buy her a ticket to America because she wants to earn the money and come on her own, I admire her for that, but I also wish she would just let me do it. She is as stubborn as I am, though.

I can't believe how much I have changed since I first met her. I would always buy a Snickers from her in the metro and I always came back because she was so friendly to me. I barely knew how to say my name back then, and I studied all this bullshit about war and stuff I will never remember. Last year I would sit with her while she was working and she would practice Russian with me. This year, I don't know where it's coming from, but it's all up there. Some things I can't say fluidly, but I am trying.

Pure
Photography

PHOTOS\

Dr. Block's

Nature

Cubes

Europe

Portraits

Fantasy

Dying

Kazantip

Birthday

Russia '96

Russia

London '99

Stills '98