Thursday,
October 1, 1998
Uh...
I am nervous as all get the fuck out.
I have
to meet with my family today and be a bitch about the estate,
but first, I have to go see my neurologist. I haven't had an
MRI in over 6 years, and I think it might be a good idea to
see what the fuck is going on in my head, since I have been
a little off lately.
I spent
quality time with Katie last night. Filled her in on my business
proposal and she is not taking me all that seriously, but hopefully,
it will take off. I will talk about it some time when I have
more of the kinks worked out.
We watched
a Tarkovsky film last night, Stalker. It was a really
intense, psychological film that demanded so much out of both
of us. I wish I could get a lot of this energy out of me so
I could calm down and do my school work, but I find that after
a day of sitting here on my butt, I am exhausted but I want
to be active. I don't think there is a night I have gotten home
before 8 since I got here.
Can you
tell I am spazzing out?
I was
sitting in class today and my professor was staring over my
shoulder and after a while I screamed. "I know my code sucks"
I blurted out in one of those feel sorry for me because
I am a big baby voices.
He simply
looked down and said "it doesn't suck." I was so nervous I could
die because I honestly wasn't prepared to prove myself, I haven't
even started on my work. God I am such a fuck.
Calm...
relax... deep breaths. I think once this little argument is
over today then I can feel better. Fuck Fuck FUCK!!!!
I was
ICQing with Joe the other day and we were talking about how
since there is no need...
Fuck that,
that's boring. Katie and I got into it last night. She's only
22. She thinks that I don't understand her but we are one in
the same. She is so smart and she has a hard time getting it
all out. Her room is a mess, but there are notebooks and other
things just crammed full of her thoughts and stuff.
I look
at her and I think I am so glad I am older then her. I don't
have that anxiety that goes with not having people understanding
me so much and I don't feel like I have to understand everything
either.
Sigh...
just when I was on to something, I have to go. Time to see the
doctor.
Friday,
October 2, 1998
I am a
big open wound.
I decided
to get this whole thing over, I will do what the lawyer suggested
and let my brother buy me out of the house... The house my mom
fought so hard to keep... poof. It's my brother's. Tomorrow
is the last day I will ever be in it, I hope and think.
Tomorrow
I also see my dad for the first time in years, if he bothers
to show up. I can't deal with having my brother spew his anger
and shit at me like he did yesterday. A hurt little boy just
trying to make everyone else feel inadequate.
And it
looks like I don't have a choice on what I want to be sentimental
about, since he threw mine and my sister's rooms away. The stuff
you are suppose to keep at your mom's house so one day when
your kids are looking through your shit they ask you questions
about stuff you have no answer for. I think if I had the means,
I would have caused him great bodily harm last evening, but
then I know there is nothing I can do to him that he can't or
hasn't done to himself.
...but
still, I feel so violated.
And my
car broke down on the Interstate last night. And I lost the
keys to my apartment.
He is
the biggest piece of shit on the planet. I can't believe him.
And my ex best-friend helped him do it. It's still not his house
until we sign the paperwork, but he calls it his house.
I just
want out. I don't care about the money anymore. I thought that
I should be strong in my resolve, but I can't fight someone
as insane as my brother. Not even my mother was strong enough
to stand up to him.
Which
brings me to today. I woke up in a decent mood, until I started
remembering yesterday. Tanya, a woman that helped me get through
Ceramics last year, came by and I gave her some stuff from my
travels. She helped me through the rough spots.
But I
woke up, and there was St. James Art fair, right outside my
window. I took a few photos from my window. Next week, that
place is going to be a mess.
Tanya
was talking about different cultures and how you only see this
many people in crowded cities and I agreed. This event has the
most European feel to it in Louisville. It was so strange to
see so many people. We went to the tent where the Ceramic students
are and I saw some people from my class last year and I felt
so odd.
Tanya
told me I shouldn't feel weird and I shouldn't care if I see
the bitch ceramics teacher. I told her that I felt odd around
those people because that woman abused me in front of those
people and they are reminders of that awful time in my life.
Then I
said "haven't you ever done that? Don't you feel weird around
people that you have been abused around or have revealed too
much of yourself to them? I lose friends all the time for that
reason."
I am the
same way. I don't like being around people that have seen me
at my worst, or people that have witness me being abused. Because
I was vulnerable in front of them and I don't like to be reminded
that when they last saw me, maybe today I am not like I was
the last time they saw me.
And if
I reveal too much of myself to someone, I don't like hanging
around them unless it's Zack. I know he isn't judgemental of
me and he helps me think things through.
But usually,
I have pretty intense friendships because the people I hang
out with aren't superficial, but I usually don't feel naked
in front of them. This is usually why I can't hold on to people,
because they feel naked in front of me. And maybe I was never
meant to keep many people as friends.
Like I
said last month, I realized how much friends matter when you
are sitting alone in a hospital bed when they promised they
would be there for you.
I wrote
how I felt to my buddy Hadley, and she wrote "Oh no! I'm sorry
your brother threw so much stuff out... it seems a little bit
immature to me, the way he is handling this whole situation...
I don't know if you care, but the Xena season premiere is this
weekend..."
Now I
am laughing... Oh life.
"Don't
take everything so seriously, Cathy, it's only life." -MP
Saturday,
October 3, 1998
At best,
Jerry Springer. At worst, an episode of Cops.
Let me
tell you what a moron my brother is. He's egging us on all day
and towards the end of the day, we start going through photographs
and he decides he didn't want his face with us when we were
kids.
So he
ripped it up and we all jumped him. Anne hit him, I didn't see
it and neither did Lesli, but according to him, Anne hit him.
He called the cops. Needless to say, my dad did not show up
today and that is one of the reasons his ass is in jail right
now.
His ass?
You ask, yep, his.
Since
the cops couldn't arrest Anne, he wouldn't quit egging her in
front of them and at one point he says in front of the cops
"If I had my gun, I would shoot you."!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
In front
of three men... three cops!!!
They told
him that they could talk to the county attorney on Monday but
he bugged him about arresting Anne for hitting him that he finally
pissed off the cops and hauled his ass in for threatening to
kill my sister.
I feel
so white trash.
My dad
is going to have a conniption when they print this in the Louisville
paper tomorrow, he's a jr., after all.
How funny...
I still can't get over it.
He went
on and on about how mean we were to him and how we alienated
him from his grandparents and father. He told them a bunch of
shit and went on and on and on.
His white
trash whore girlfriend called the cops for him. She moved all
my mother's stuff from her room and put it out to go to the
salvation army. Her clothes are hanging in my mother's closet.
Her t-shirts were in my mom's dresser and her underware in my
dead mothers underware draws. That is so gross.
I can't
believe she had the audacity to act like she was a part of my
house. They even re-did my bed room when I was gone.
I swear,
just out of a movie. My life feels like a fucking, surreal,
fucked up movie... a never ending soap opera and it's my life!
I live this mess. Not for much longer... I don't have to have
anything to do with him much longer.
Monday, October 5, 1998
God, I
feel kind of bad.
I mean,
what a fucking lesson to learn. I don't think he understands
that by yelling and screaming at us, we are going to listen
to what he has to say. You would think that by isolating himself
in that misery and pain that he would want it to be over and
not have to deal with us ever again, but that wasn't the case.
The closer
we got to where he didn't want us to go the more violent he
behaved. I looked over at him once when he looked like he was
going to hit my sister Anne and begged him to hit her. "Please
hit her, Thomas, please hit her."
He knew
if he had hit her, it would have left a mark and his ass would
have been locked up. He was cooking, hoping something would
happen. It was awful. He kept trying to get at us and we got
to him and that's why he spent the night in jail.
Cops won't
put up with that kind of shit. Mom put up with that and a lot
worse. The way my brother talked to me all my life, it's horrifying.
The things he said to my mother, though, were just... I don't
understand how she lived with all that shit for her life. I
told her over and over that she didn't need to, that I would
move in and take care of her but she would never kick him out.
At one
point, he called Anne a slut and she said something about his
girlfriend being one too and then he said "She can count them
on one hand."
I laughed
and blurted out "That's funny, because when I knew her, she
was already a x amount."
Like that
even matters anyway. I think that you would have to at least
fuck more then 1% of the general population on the planet to
be considered a slut in my opinion.
Yesterday
we had a little party for Colin. I was spacey from the night
before because after dealing with my brother... Anne suggested
we get some beer so my brother in law went out and got some.
He's a wonderful guy. I adore him more and more. So we got properly
inebriated.
Saturday
night you could almost hear the minutes tick by. After the cops
told us they arrested Thomas we were so elated. That was a high
that lasted for several hours. Then we sat around and drank,
Lesli called the absent Tee, my father that neglected to show
up.
I suppose
I should touch on that. I don't suppose he will be any important
part of my life any longer. I am not going to expend any more
energy thinking so much about having a relationship with him.
I honestly could give a fuck. I have lived over 10 years without
him, I am sure it won't matter until his mother dies.
I have
these preconceived notions of how things should work out, but
they never will, so, fuck it. I am not going to give to him
something he had that he fucked up again for him to hurt me
again. No thanks.
I begged
him to show up because I knew Thomas would start some shit and
he didn't show up, so fuck him. I will never ask him for anything
again, nor do I want to forgive him so much for what he did
to me as a child. I know back in July I was all into forgiveness,
but the person has to be willing to ask for it in order to receive
it and I am just as sick of him as I am my brother. He raised
that fucking monster, let them deal with one another.
I also
have this idea that my life has infinitely improved since I
don't have to seek his approval. I think if everyone were under
the ideal circumstances I am under (I mean, I don't have to
please my father and I don't have to worry about my mom), I
wonder how much more people in general could accomplish.
Well,
so I met this girl last year that came with Roman. She is from
Volgagrad as well. I saw her one day when I was in Volgagrad
this summer and played pool with her. I think she kicked my
ass since I scratched, but because we kept playing, I won.
Anyway,
she is here now, in Louisville. It was so weird to see her.
We had lunch and it was yummy.
I have
to go home and work on my school work now.
Tuesday,
October 6, 1998
I didn't
do much work. I did clean my room though. Or I should say apartment
last night.
I tried
to work on my stuff for class today and I didn't get it done,
so I stayed home and worked on stuff, and when I couldn't do
that any longer, I fell asleep and had the most wicked dreams
about mom.
I am getting
used to being alone and that is not very easy.
Plus when
I found out how much my ticket to the Texas Pigs, I about shit
an egg roll. 185 fucking dollars. That's a lot. Fuckers. I hate
Texas now. If you are going 21 over in Kanfuckme, it's maybe
$85.
SHIT!!!!!
Speaking of that, I need to go to traffic school here. God dammit.
It's too late to call anyone here.
I feel
today like I did before mom died. Like more myself. I can't
remember what I was dreaming about with her, but now...
And my
land lady thinks I am a nut, that there wasn't a gas leak in
my apartment, but what had happened was one of the pilot lights
went out on the stove and I just figured that out when I cooked
my first meal here today.
Fuck it.
FUCK IT! I will pay that Damn ticket and then leave on my cruise.
I am just not very happy about it.
It was
nice staring out my window today. there are a ton of people
out, and it's still in the nineties, and humid. Yuck.
Poppa
found a car for me, but I just don't think I want to get a used
car. I wanted a bug really bad and now I figured out why. When
we were kids, mom had one. I swore I would never get into another
one. The one she had caught fire with us in it, and that was
when the engines were in the back. We didn't know we were on
fire and some people told us to pull over. I suppose it it had
gotten to the gas tank, we would have been Bar-B-Qued Clays
in a bug. I thought I left my Barbie in the car and I was upset
about it but Anne pulled them out because she had been playing
with them, and after that, I was never mad about her playing
with my stuff.
Oh, I have
so many things to do... SHIT!
Wednesday,
October 7, 1998
I am not
happy with myself today. Maybe it's the full moon, I don't know,
or PMS.
I am thinking
fuck the VW Bug. Even though I have a bug up my ass to get one,
I think I should just wait it out. There are worse things then
not having it, like not having a car. I am going insane. I can't
stand to be dependent on anybody and now I feel like such a
bum, having Andy and other people take me places.
Oh, I
think I am depressed, and I don't want to be.
I slept
for most of the day yesterday, and today, I could sleep again,
now. Maybe it's just this damn headache. I don't know. I want
to put my head down and sleep for hours one end.
I wish
I could take a vacation from myself. I am sick of me and some
of the things I am thinking. For instance, I will use Andy.
Andy came over yesterday and wasn't so nice to me, and then
this morning he acts like since he wants to fuck that maybe
I do too and I told him "Just because you want to doesn't mean
I want to."
I don't
deserve to be treated like this. He doesn't deserve to be treated
the way I treat him either. I am just sick of the whole thing,
but I feel like the only way out for me is to leave the state.
I don't want to depend on him for jack shit, but the attraction
is still there. I wish it weren't.
I was
talking about moving with Melissa and she gave me a big lecture
on how I would have to find new friends blah blah blah and I
am just like... over it. I know I can basically make friends
where ever I go, that's not the difficult thing for me. I think
she was saying all that shit to try to convince me to stay here,
and I just don't want to.
I know
a lot of people that have left and come back, and I honestly
don't want to be one of them. I think every once in a while
that maybe I should just leave leave. I would love to live in
Tahiti or French Polynesia. But I don't speak French and I don't
know what they speak in Tahiti right now. Well, considering
Tahiti is part of French Polynesia...
Why in
the hell would I even consider spending $18K on a fucking car?
I don't give a fuck about that shit. I would rather have the
money to travel. Fuck that car.
It has
been one of those kinds of days. It's raining, and the moon
is full and I am PMSing. Grrr...
I'm talking
to my professor in Russia. I took nudies of him and another
boy. It's pretty bad over there, he says and I told him a long
time ago I would marry him. Shit, I could come and go as I pleased
and live in Moscow. What the fuck am I thinking, I'm American,
I could live there if I wanted a job that bad.
I woke
up to the news of them marching today. I think it would be so
exciting to be there now, but I think it's about to fall, hard.
I think that would rather suck.
I don't
know what made me think of this but... I remember when we just
moved in with my mom and we were so poor we bought food at the
surplus food store. I never want to do that again... never never.
I don't know what made me think about it, but I had all kinds
of funky dreams about my mom yesterday.
I'm going
home now.
Thursday,
October 8, 1998
Did anyone
out there happen to mirror my article on Female Ejaculation
out there??? The company decided to print a book and I don't
have the code. What a shitty lesson to learn.
Wanna
see something hilarious??? It's not politically correct, either.
I went
out into the country last night with Joe and his family. It
was nice and strange all at the same time. I had this sense
of belonging, and that's weird for me.
I listened
to his music. He is amazing. I remember when we were dating
oh so many years ago and he said "I can't stand that synthesized
music."
What kind
of music does he do?
I reminded
him of saying that and he said "You know why I use it now? I
had to work with musicians." I laughed my ass off. I didn't
expect him to say that.
I leave
for my cruise in 3 days. I need to get money tomorrow.
But they
have a nice family. I guess nice in the sense that they are
being people to their daughter that we didn't have as children,
and it's strange for us all, I think, to think of us being the
responsible adults. Well, not me since I don't have kids.
I love
their daughter. She drew me a ferret and I told her they stunk
and so did Joe, she's such a smartass at such an early age,
she's only 7, she went and got her Barbie perfume and put it
on the paper to make it smell like roses. I wanted to roll on
the floor.
God I
want to throw up. I am going through all my old links and it
makes me sick. Some of the things I linked to... WHAT WAS I
THINKING? I am going to re-do my page, totally.
God, it
was nice being out in the country. I slept so well, but again
I had a dream about my mom. It's like she's going to say something
to me and just as I look over to her face and see her lips move,
I wake up.
I don't
recall ever having a dream more then once.
I am learning
about style sheets and shit like that, so that mean I will more
then likely re-work my entire page.
Zack
is coming tonight!!! I am so excited. I am so tired too. He
wanted to go see Pecker, a movie about a little kid,
but he didn't think he would make it on time.
I think
I am going to go home and take a nap. I want to stay out with
him tonight. I only have to work 3 hours tomorrow. I am going
to have some fun...
I found
out next week is our mid-term break, so now I don't feel so
bad about missing class next week... cruise cruise cruise...
Man did Melissa time this just right. I am about to go out of
my skull.
She told
me I couldn't bring my computer, and I am contemplating leaving
it behind, but I just can fathom the idea of writing things
out long hand, and I have this need to write and write now.
Maybe I will have something interesting to say other then my
brother got locked up this weekend.
Saturday,
October 8, 1998
I am leaving
on my cruise tomorrow and I haven't packed.
The only
update I have is that Zack is the most perfect human on the
face of the planet. I love him so much. I can't understand how
he can be the way he is, but whenever I try to think of something,
anything bad about him, I can't. I tried to do it the other
night, because I know he has to wonder "I wonder what she says
about me when I am not around." because he hears me talking
critically about other people I know.
But he
is perfect... There isn't a mean bone in his body, he's just
a wonderful soul to be around and last night I watched him debate
with Katie and he handled himself magically.
I tell
him he's perfect too, but he's like "Only to you." I said I
didn't care, he can't do anything wrong and if he ever tries
to make himself feel guilty about something, I can justify it.
So he
just left, and I love him so much.
He was
telling me about the structure at work, and it's all very fascinating.
I have
to get ready... paint my toes... pack... sleep some.
Tuesday,
October 13, 1998
Back and
forth, back and forth I think that Carnival's ships aren't as
sturdy as Royal Caribbean. And the food isn't as good. It looks
like Kathie Lee's bedroom threw up all over the place. White
trash deco at it's finest.
It's not
all bad it's just not all good. I knew there was a reason I
didn't want to do this, I just couldn't remember why I hate
being on a boat with 1200 people that seem so... fucking different
then me. I guess it's their vacation and that's one of the reasons
they just don't care. Fat men in Speedos... yuck.
I thought
that this thing was a slave ship, because our waiter told us
that they had to pay for their own food and board, but that's
just not the case. The masseuse told me today that they basically
pay for everything, they just don't get sick days and they have
to work horrendous hours. I think I would go insane.
I mean
if kids under 21 can't drink, then why in the hell can't they
mandate a minimum wage on this fucking thing. I don't know why
I complain, I mean I am on this fucking thing.
There
is this cool Lithuanian I met and we speak Russian all the time.
I ask all kinds of questions, like how boring is it and what
are the people like.
I wired
some money to my discover card and it hasn't gotten there yet,
which is kind of a pain in the ass because they won't let us
use our little cards again. Whatever. This cruise cost more
then I anticipated, and part of the reason is because Melissa
wanted to be on one of the upper decks, which is one of the
reasons I am sea sick now. On the lower decks, you can't feel
the motion of the boat so much, but you are closer to the life
boats this way.
We met
this group of older women, and there were 2 sitting down talking
and the third, Connie, came up behind us and said "I'd like
you to meet tits and tits a lot. " It made me die. I thought,
"I love this woman." And she has done other things, like on
formal night, she came up behind me and fixed my dress so you
couldn't see my bra. She then said "Am I going to have to dress
you?"
I almost
exclaimed "There are two reasons a girl wouldn't know how to
dress." But I didn't say anything. I just enjoyed her mommying
me.
I went
to Hell today. It's was hot and humid, but it was also very
beautiful.
I didn't
know they were not on day light savings time, and the ship hadn't
even stopped and so we were "late" to where we needed to be
and Melissa started freaking and I was just like "Calm the fuck
down." She ran up stairs where we were supposed to meet, then
I realized the time was off and that the ship was still moving
and I was like... she just needs to chill.
When she
gets mad, she gets this bitchy air about her, and I just won't
deal with that any more. She tells me to stand up to my family,
but I don't think she likes that I stand up to her now too.
I think she realized today that she can't be like that with
me anymore, because after I realized we had a half an hour,
and I went on and ate alone, she was pleasant to me.
We went
on this "tour" on Cayman Island today, what a joke. Rush, rush,
rush. The asshole driving the bus almost left me behind, and
he didn't even warn us that he was leaving. The whole tour groups
was pissed off at him and told him he was going to have to wait
for us. They couldn't believe that he would even dare to leave
a mother and baby behind.
I have
been such a good girl, but I feel the need to be very bad. The
masseuse told me all the gossip about how most of the waiters
are married and they all fool around with the passengers. I
was happy then because there is this other Lithuanian
I wouldn't mind getting to know better, and there is this Salvadoran
waiter that keeps giving me goo goo eyes, and I rather like
it.
I wish
I could be good, but that's so boring. Melissa was like "Yeah
right, he'd have to come to our cabin" and I said "Colin can
see the deck at night." Which may not be the most practical
thing, but this is my room too God Dammit.
Oh boy.
To the left and to the right. I want to puke already. I think
I am going to go smoke a cigarette. Last night I woke up at
3:30 dreaming about mom. I don't like the dreams I have been
having about her on this cruise, but Tracey said since it's
so close to Halloween, all this cosmic energy is abound. I with
it would bound on it's own and leave me in peace because I would
like to have a good night sleep.
Last nights
dream was really weird, mom knew she was dead, and we got into
a plane from a neighborhood not far away and flew over and she
freaked about how Thomas was acting. I know she wanted us to
all get along, but I wish she would leave me the fuck alone.
It's getting on my fucking nerves. I think I might even go mad
by the time Halloween does roll around.
OK I am
going to go smoke.
Wednesday,
October 14, 1998
Looks
like the most interesting person I am going to fuck on this
cruise is myself, because I just ain't getting any from anyone
else. Sigh... Sometimes I really hate being a geek, but god
I love that sauna!
Cozumel
basically sucked. It reminded me of Venice because there were
SO MANY FUCKING tourists, but there was no architecture or anything
exciting to hold it up. Thank the fuck God for Tulum, which
is where we went and saw some ancient Mayan ruins this morning.
That was
more amazing then... well, it was pretty amazing. And to think,
in the last 4 months I have been in 4 of the 7 seas today it
was the Caribbean. Sigh. I know one day I won't be able to afford
to travel so extensively. I am just going to have to earn a
butt load of money or do it the old-fashioned way and marry
into it.
I am not
step closer into trying to figure out what in the hell I am
going to do with my life, but I think I feel like I have calmed
down enough so I can finish my work. I almost forgot about the
Internet today.
Yesterday,
I didn't dream about mom, but these cute little furry gray creatures,
then I saw the mother and it was an opossum. Then I freaked
out and woke up. I must be getting enough sleep or I wouldn't
be dreaming.
Tomorrow
night on the cruise is another formal night. Melissa doesn't
want to go, but I think I will drag her ass to it. Some of the
people were wearing these normal clothes they thought were formal,
and I think that kind of bummed Melissa because she likes being
able to wear nice clothes every once in a while.
The people
in the cabin next to us are the absolute worse drunks. They
were being loud and obnoxious when Colin was trying to sleep
and that was just so rude. He really wasn't in the mood to go
down anyway, so I guess it was for the better.
I don't
know why I thought Cozumel would be so exciting, I guess because
it's just not home, but I would rather slits my wrists with
an aluminum foil soda can and die a slow death then return.
It's way too touristy for my taste, so it was kind of hard to
stomach. Plus I can't stand to see the abject poverty that exists
here, which is an even sadder comment on how I view life in
America.
Coming
on this cruise has made me so aware of the culture I hate so
much but the culture that is so very mine. How can' I explain
it?
For the
most part, we can't stand ourselves (which I don't know if this
is just human, or American). Then we come on board one of these
ships and we have to be told what to do, how to "have fun" and
what cultural attitudes are re-affirmed by stupid information
seminars we go to.
For example,
we had a meeting (I have no clue how many people showed up,
but not all of us were there) and the cruise director was making
the stupidest, most inane jokes and he knew it. It's like he's
a joke and so we are suppose to take him seriously because he
is making an ass of himself.
Then these
people are in the business of selling fantasies, and in actuality,
they have no control over their passengers' happiness. It makes
me want to puke. "Real Majorica Pearls from Spain, for $16 an
inch." What a fucking hoax.
I walk
up to the sales girl and ask "are these real?"
"No."
Beautiful, I think. (Why do I want those shitty things? I have
my mom's pearls.)
I am sure
by now you are wondering why in the hell am I here then, if
I knew it was going to be so horrible. Well, my best friend
loves to go on cruises, and I love her and I get to spend time
with her in beautiful places and for the most part, we don't
deal with other people.
It's certainly
not the worst place I have been to, I mean I get to jump back
up on a big air conditioned boat and leave, so thank God I am
not stuck here. It has so much much left to be desired, and
I don't know if it's because there is no challenge for me or
if it's just that I can't stand most of the people I have residual
contact with.
Most of
the people on this cruise are older, I would say that the average
age is 52, but take the assholes next door, for instance. They
have dumped their 4 kids off somewhere and they have to stay
drunk to be around one another because they honestly don't like
who they have become. God, please don't let this ever happen
to me. I have started down that road once before and I knew
it was wrong as I was taking it.
But what
a life to live, to hate your husband and your kids because you
don't do anything to make your life anything more then what
it is.. It almost breaks my heart.
Then another
thing that pisses me off (more embarrassment then anything)
is that I see other people from other cultures come and bust
their asses to work for some shitty cruise line company and
see how these people behave. I mean, I know people are people
no matter where you go, but god dammit, we are just as much
representations of our culture as they are of theirs. And no
matter how hard I try not to give a fuck what other Americans
think of me, I sure as fuck don't want foreigners to have an
even worse impression of my culture.
Which
brings me to another point. Some people out there think we are
oh so great, and that's just not true. There are certain aspects
that go without saying about what it means to be an American...
wait, that's not right. That would mean that all the people
from South and North America are Americans, and that's just
not the case. What are we then?
Just yet
another aspect of what it means when your life has been turned
up side down. I am a U.S. American? A person from the United
States? More realistically, I am a Kentuckian, because I do
not share the same cultural attitudes as from someone from California
or New York. Ah fuck, I probably share views with only 5% of
this population.
But still,
I represent this unified group of mini republics when I am abroad.
We have so many freedoms, but then we use society and culture
to bind us to ideals that no longer allow us to progress in
a rapid rate... not as rapid as the Internet is growing.
If more
emphasis of our education was put on creativity and individuality,
then we could go a lot further, but the sacrifice would be that
we would have to give up certain aspects of what it means to
be a member of a group.
Now let
me break this down a little further. Our society does not encourage
us to be too different, even in the groups that are different,
you can't be too different or you will be ostracized for being
more different then anyone else.
So, while
you are at work, school, what ever, you are categorized into
groups first by your gender.
The next
divisions are social class (which does exist here) and your
intelligence. Those are the two main divisions. Used to be,
money could buy you anything, but now, among my age group, we
just don't give a fuck about that shit as much as our parents
did (but it still linger on our tounge like a bad tuna fish
sandwich).
The first
group is the most important. Gender issues are abound. Not only
are men raised misogynistically, but women are taught to hold
a basic contempt for one another as well. (I can't make this
generalization about anything but the culture I know the best,
which is Southern).
So now
we have women hating one another and then you have the issues
of why they hate other people. Just pick an ism, and you will
have a reason to hate someone else. Racism, Judaism, Feminism.
Pick one, there is always something else under the layer that
you just scratched, all behaviors we are taught by our parents
because they were taught by their parents.
This has
become more and more obvious to me being around Colin. Everyone
loves babies, no matter who you are. I feel like a fucking superstar
when I am with him just because he attracts so much attention.
He is grateful for everyone's attention. Did you ever ask yourself
why babies are so cute? It's because they haven't been acclimated
into any one culture and they love just about everyone that
loves them back.
Why can't
adults be this way with other people? If you were nicer to people
and gave more of yourself to them and what have you, do you
think you would get more from them, even if it was just a lovely
conversation?
This is
where spirituality and karma and all that shit comes into play.
This kind of religion is one that has been ignored for generations
because for some reason, it has been perverted and that is the
religion of love, and basic human caring for your fellow human.
I'm getting
hokey. Fuck this.
Thursday,
October 15, 1998
Last night's
dream was brought to you by the Day of the Dead.
I dreamt
they made a movie of a man I used to know named Paschal Brown.
Paschal
was a huge, I mean HUGE man. I think he was 6'7". He has this
booming voice that ran right thought your spine so when he laughed,
your lungs reverberated with him. He had a snake named Conni.
He lived peacefully on Gaulbert for many years and I met him
when I was 16 when Bil Brown lived on Gaulbert.
Paschal
was still living there when I moved over there 4 years later.
I felt more comfortable living over there with him as my neighbor.
At the time, I didn't know he for sure had AIDS, but I suspected.
In the brief time I had known him, he had fallen seriously ill
and wasn't too social because I don't think he wanted people
to care about him. (Just think of an animal going out into the
woods to die).
John Waters
had made a movie about him and I saw it and told him how he
had gotten certain pieces of his life wrong. For one thing,
he was in a few movies, the only one I remembered being was
He-Man (he was one of the bug like soldiers). And he
didn't know how he had contracted the disease. He was a nurse
in L. A. and he didn't know if he got it from a partner or from
a needle.
He was
so interesting. Just had a story to tell all the time. He looked
like Jim Morrison because he had such a full beard. When I was
his neighbor, I was a goody to shoes, and I didn't get involved
in anything illegal. I think I missed out on a lot because if
I had smoked pot, I would have been able to share more about
him today.
Anyways,
it was February, and his pet roaches were coming up for a visit
and I was pissed. I didn't realize he wasn't in his apartment
any longer. That was 1994. He was in the hospital and he died
not long after that.
I did
not realize what had happened, until I walked up to the apartment
and saw his mannequin in the dumpster. When I saw that, I realized
he had died, and I freaked out. Andy and I had been living together
for a few months and I just went up to my room and cried and
cried and cried.
I could
not figure out how in the hell his family could just throw him
away like that. Everything that meant so much to other people...
I couldn't even call the people I knew that knew him to tell
them his stuff had been tossed and if they wanted something
to come get it. I also figured the ones that were that close
probably knew him and got what they could.
His stuff
just sat there, in the snow and eventually, the garbage men
came and collected it. I couldn't stand having roaches. I knew
we had had them before, but because he was there, they would
go feast on his stuff.
There
was one time I went to borrow baking soda to make cookies and
as he spooned it out from the package in his refrigerator, there
were roaches in it. I walked out of his apartment and threw
up. It made me sad to think that such things didn't concern
him, but after being with mom and seeing how she didn't care
about certain things, I understood.
But there
were certain standards she would not fall behind on.
What makes
a person quit caring so much, even about the little things?
And what is the degree of caring? I mean, when you know you
are dying, what makes you fall below standards of others? We
are all dying.
So that
was my weird ass dream from last night.
On the
more positive note, I think Melissa and I are beyond annoying
one another and we are getting along really well.
I am so
grateful I got to spend time with her and Colin. I was thinking
of it last night, and sure the food may not be so great and
there are other things that I could bitch about, but I am in
the Caribbean with my best friend and her baby. It has been
amazing to watch him change these past few days.
I guess
there is a reason people say they grow up so fast because I
know the last year has flown by. Plus, with him, since he is
so adorable, I feel like a superstar. Most people stop and talk
to us because of Mr. Social Butterfly. And he is just so fucking
adorable. He's a very happy baby and he's always laughing and
smiling.
The only
real problem we had with him was last night and that was
Sunday,
October 18, 1998
because
in the day, the assholes next door kept making noise and keeping
him from having a nap so I hope they got a nice ear full of
him crying off and on last night. I noticed how quiet it was
next door today, so I imagine they wanted a restful sleep tonight
since they are getting their sorry asses off tomorrow.
I will
say this, if you are planning on going on a cruise in the near
future, I highly do NOT recommend Carnival. Our cabin steward
kicks ass, his service is outstanding, and our bus boy kicks
ass too, but as for the other things it pretty much sucks.
Saturday,
October 17, 1998
The thunder
of the waves crash against the hull making the ship ache and
moan. The sun shines bright against my absorbing lips and golden
skin as it comes through my window. I think of the blood melting
in between my legs and his hairless body and tiny nipples. He
has a nice body too. Laying on the floor, soaking, he stops
in flashback paranoia. He is just 20... I whisper behind the
curtain that I feel like a teenager, remembering that I had
cursed the day earlier for being a late bloomer. My ass is sore
and when I came I made that awful face of pain from so much
pleasure. I ask if he had ever been with a woman that could
squirt. His befuddled "no" begs for a bit of confusion and I
reveal that he is about to be. He is rough with me and hurting
my breast and I protest. He assures me that it doesn't hurt.
I forgot
how arrogant youth is and realize I am just 19+, no too young
to be stupid and not to old to forget to be arrogant.
Sunday,
October 18, 1998
I am home
now... Andy is in the shower. Sometimes he is so repulsive to
me. I know I get sad every once in a while and I know there
have been the rare occasions that I don't like to bathe, but
Andy hasn't cleaned up since Wednesday, and that makes me want
to fucking hurl a merl.
I just
don't get it. He then tries to blame it on being male and I
say "Quit trying to put this off on being male, I know lots
of men that manage to shower every day." The main reason (besides
being depressed) he does it is because he's a fucking geek.
For some fucked up reason, the hygiene fairy forgot to tell
men that sit in front of computers all day that to be attractive
to women, they have to AT LEAST, at the very fucking least bathe.
This also
happens to be one of the reasons we broke up. I hated being
his mommy and telling him to fucking bathe. I was sitting here
doing my fucking e-mail and I hadn't bathed today and I look
over and I smelled him and I was like "You haven't had a shower
in a couple of days, have you?"
"No."
"When
was the last one? Thursday?"
"I think
Wednesday."
GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. DID I HAPPEN TO MENTION
JUST HOW FUCKING GROSS NOT BATHING IS? GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
GROSS. GROSS. GROSS. GROSS.
I'll update
later. I am hungry and Zack told me to go see Beloved.
And by
the way, fucking Carnival Cruise line SUCKS!!!!!!!!!
Monday,
October 19, 1998
OK, no
more talking about how the Caribbean sucked, or how Carnival
sucked... I got to spend time with Melissa and Colin, and that
was invaluable. Nor will I bitch about how I spent way too much
money on that shit.
I will
just say this, I am amazed at how they were able to suck all
the flavor of the food away from everything and make it all
taste the same. What the hell? I just don't get it, did they
have special flavor sucking pans? Is it because there are a
lot of old people that they want to make the food bland and
gross? Did they want me to lose weight?
I thought
I would stay home today and actually accomplish something, but
there is only cleaning. Maybe I should hire a cleaning lady.
I just need some organization.
Since
I left, I HAVE BEEN TO HELL AND BACK! (I looked for some decent
photos of it on the web, but naturally the best photos have
yet to be developed). Uggh... I really tried to find some good
photos, but...there was this one woman that did the typical
cheesy photo of a tropical paradise as the sun sets. Vomit gag
hack.
I miss
the Jacuzzi the most. I miss flirting incessantly with whoever.
I wish
I could say I fucking hated being here, but I am in my room
where I can stare out my window. I don't know if they just added
this flower stand out there or what, because I don't remember
it being there earlier.
I don't
even feel like I really left except for the fact that I am still
rocking with the motion of the sea.
I wanted
to say some funny, insightful things, but I just dont' care,
and I need to get my Russia photos together and Fed Ex them
to Anne so I can be published again... but in a real magazine.
OK, so what if it's a horse magazine or two, I will still have
MY photos in an international magazine. That might look good
on my resume.
The sun
is going down and I am getting hyper. Maybe now I can clean.
Wednesday,
October 21, 1998
I have
been working on my new opening page, all the work I did all
day yesterday was a wasted effort in that I can not use any
of the materials.
I am sad
and I miss my mom.
This is
the week that people I used to care a lot about are getting
in touch with me and it scares me in a way and makes me miss
my mom more.
I saw
one of my favorite people in the world when I got off the plane.
His name is Skip, who happens to be a philosopher/computer geek.
He was on his way to Texas, late as usual. Comforting to know
that some things about someone you care/d about don't change.
Then I
got an e-mail from a former room mate that I loved more then
life. She majored in Russian as well and to see us together
was so funny. He mom was Jehovia Witness and when you think
of her living with me, you are just like "You TWO!" But we got
along so well and she was just like the essence of life herself.
There
are some not so good times, but that goes with everything. She
wrote to me and told me she thought my work should be hanging
in a museum and... I just won't go into how I feel about that,
but she has always been a great support of me and I value that
in her.
Then she
told me she was sorry about mom dying and that still cuts me
the wrong way. I don't know how to articulate how bad it is
to know there is no more safety net behind me. I always like
doing things on the edge, but as long as my mommy was there,
then she could make everything all right. Now I have to do it
alone, and that's not so easy.
Plus I
don't really like to think about such things... and I don't
know why I don't want to. I mean it's stupid to ignore that
fact when it's something that is always there, and I always
feel a little empty.
It's raining
here today and it's suppose to snow tomorrow. Gross. I fucking
hate being too hot and I hate being cold, but I think it's a
part of my temperament now. I think you can tell a lot about
people by the regions they are from.
Dammit,
my Java Script isn't working right. shit shit shit. I have been
busting my ass for the last two days trying to get it all right
and now that I am there... I hate this. Now I have to have people
help me. (Big thanks to Joseph for helping me out).
HA!!!!IT
WORKS NOW!!!!
Thursday,
October 22, 1998
Want to
see my new opening page? I am in
love with it...
I have
that ready for when I move my page, which is soon, and then
I will have all my links and stuff move.
I saw
Jenna today. I was wondering who else I would see that I once
cared a great deal about and no one else came to mind, until
I saw Jenna.
I think
my horoscope must read like "This is the week of seeing people
you once cared about..." but no... it's says:
Sunday,
October 25, 1998
I haven't
had anything interesting to say lately.
I have
just been thinking a lot about mom and life. I have been really
tired lately.
It's like
now that I have been on vacation, I am re-grouping. I am saving
my energy to start my papers. I would like to have one done
by November, so I doubt I will be keeping this up this week.
Plus I
have been trying to get stuff together to move. I have new buttons
and a new front page so...
Monday, October 26, 1998
Well,
I am here at home, with my window open. Someone is doing yard
work and I wish they would quit. The sun is shining bright on
my... oh, that's so corny.
Andy took
me to eat last night. We went to this cheesy family joint called
Ryan's. There was an all you could eat bar, which we
both got. I wanted to have 5 plates of food, but only managed
3, which mostly consisted of salad, mashed potatoes and corn.
Give me
mashed potatoes and corn any day, I am such a hick.
Tracey,
Joe's wife, prides herself on her "trailer trash vegetarian
cooking." Or something along that line. Her food is really good
though.
We watched
Gattica the other night. It was pretty cool.
Um, that's
about it. Had another freaky dream about my mom last night.
She was on the cruise with me. My bed room was on the ship and
I remember running around up and down the stairs and then she
was mummified and decapitated, but not wrapped up in bandages.
I knew
I had to tell the authorities on the ship, and then they tried
to blame me for murdering her. It was awful. I was going mad.
I can't wait until the day of the dead, so I can go put shit
on her grave so she will leave me the fuck alone.
There
goes a tour bus... They drive through this district. I think
I am going to put red lights up and walk around naked...
Tuesday,
October 27, 1998
I went
out to Lesli and Doug's last night. It was nice being out in
the country and watching an amazing sunset. I played baseball
with my nephew. When we picked him up from day care, he felt
like a superstar because he didn't expect to see me there and
he drowned me with kisses.
I think
those are the kinds of moments that mean a lot, at least they
do to me. I remember when Dad met me in Frankfort, the capitol
of Ky., when we went on a school trip and he whisked me away
in his Porsche afterward. I remember passing the school bus
and thanking god I wasn't on it.
Zack has
this overwhelming fear of having to ride a school bus again.
He doesn't ever want to be on one again, not that I blame him,
as long as he lives, but he knows that is not possible.
He should
take lessons from my little sister, Anne. I don't think she
rode a school bus the entire time she was in high school. I
hated her for that because when I was a sophomore, I had to.
When I was a freshman, I lived with my grandparents and Granny
always took me to school.
Psycho
Pump, my brother, is at it again. Lesli got sick of fighting
him and turned the estate money over to the lawyer. He put a
stop payment on any future checks so Lesli took the money out
and sent it to the lawyer, shy of 3K that Psycho Pump stole.
Now we are up to 11K that he has handled. I hate him.
He called
my grandparents up and told them a bunch of shit about my sisters.
He's being very selective about what he says to them about me
which means he is scared of me, which makes me very happy. Fucker.
I just remember the last time he tried to threaten me that he
could really fuck with me I looked over at him and said, "We
come from the same blood." Don't even think of fucking with
me because I am more Psycho then you are, what can I say, he
brings out the psycho in me. Otherwise, she lays totally dormant.
It takes
a lot to piss me off, though. Sometimes, when I get the unexpected
"Your photography sucks" e-mail, I get a little disturbed. Usually
it's from someone that is educated in photography and they aren't
using it for anything, or they just want to piss on somebody's
parade.
You know,
there is so much negative shit floating around, why do people
e-mail hate to other people. I think when you send something
like that, you are just projecting what pieces of yourself you
don't like on to someone else, trying to make them feel inferior,
but in truth, you are revealing more about your character.
So, I
slept on the couch last night, I couldn't sleep on the bed because
last time I stayed there, I had nightmares all night. I guess
I could have stole Nate's bed, but I didn't even think about
it. I had fucked up dreams about Hollywood and Grover.
I had
been missing my Grover ever since I moved. I had no clue where
he was and there was a suitcase missing too that I forgot about.
It was at Lesli and Doug's and it had all my socks and underware
in it. Well, needless to say, I went out and bought a bunch
of new socks this weekend. I bought new underware when I first
got back.
Doug reminded
me of the suitcase this morning and I took it home and remembered
that's where my socks and underware were. I opened the suitcase
and it felt like Christmas. There was Grover and my favorite
black sweater.
I am still
not with it. I wish that I could somehow make this grief go
away, but it's like waves lapping on the beach. Once they go
away, a new day begins and the waves have started at the top
again. When I feel like this, I think all I need to do is sleep
and work it out and it will all be OK, but it hurts like hell.
I think I am out of the initial stage of grieving, like an alcoholic
gets over the initial stages of that disease, and moving on
to deeper suffering.
It sucks
and I hate it but I know if I force it away, it WILL come back
to haunt me. So, here I am, riding the waves, hoping my mind
will some how clear up enough to think everything through like
I used to when mom was still alive.
Maybe
I just don't put as much importance into life like I did before,
so some of the minor details are slipping through the cracks.
I am not as serious as I was before, and I don't know if this
is a good thing or not... but it's different for me.
I used
to take everything so sincerely, so deep, and now I feel like
I spent a lot of time and energy on what? I don't even know.
It seems like the last years I have spent in school just went
by so quickly, and now I can't even bring myself to finish two
fucking papers. I am scared to live, in a way. My mom sheltered
me from a lot and now I realize it's not very healthy to be
like that. It makes adapting into regular society all that more
difficult.
Some days
I think I want to stay here forever and other days I want to
run like a tornado.
It feels
like I can't even say the right things anymore, that most of
the thoughts I have are stupid and invalid. I hate feeling like
this, when before I seemed so sure of myself.
I just
wish these fucked up dreams would stop. I remembered what I
dreamt about last night earlier, Grove and Hollywood, but it's
all fucked up.
I have
to go to class now. I haven't been doing the work he wants us
to do because it calls for the creativity of a monkey. As I
am learning these new techniques, I like to implement them in
to my own expression and I don't think he is too keen on people
doing that. Oh well, fuck it. I have to do it my way now or
I won't get a damn thing out of the class.
Wednesday,
October 28, 1998
YEA ME!
I sent Vlady's card out today. I am proud of myself. Although
his birthday is Friday... hmmm. Oh well. You have never seen
the post office employees jump until you give them a letter
or a parcel with an Embassy address. It's basically like overnighting
something. When I sent him something last year, the people were
freaking out. It was funny to watch.
I went
on a date last night. I was so nervous and I now know I am probably
one of the biggest geek girls you will ever meet. Social skills
of a prostitute... no, mouth like a prostitute and social skills
of a three toed tree sloth.
Sad, really.
I just
had a pep talk from Earl. He asked me what was the worst thing
that could happen to me if I leave. And really, there is nothing
that bad that can happen. Most of my shit is in storage, anyway.
He even told me to go out there without a job... I guess in
a way that would force me to find something, but I don't want
to settle for just anything.
I really
value that in him that he's encouraging me to move on. It's
comforting to hear someone that has been here for a while to
tell me to leave this hell hole.
It just
seems that now I am getting to be at a point in my life where
I can go either way.
I am just
scared because my mommy isn't here to tell me if I fuck up that
everything will be ok. Plus she's not here so I can prove to
her that I won't fuck up. I guess it doesn't matter any longer,
but that drive to succeed isn't so easily switched off, and
it's kind of hard to accomplish anything when you don't have
your own cheerleader.
Joe told
me the reason I am in such a good mood is Because we are
(despite all appearances and attempts otherwise) social creatures
who thrive on affirmations presented by interaction with others
of our species... Damn him. I like to think other people's
opinions don't fucking matter, but that's just not the... there
is a thin line. What a thin line.
Then I
think of holding Colin in my arms and him being restless at
the Speech that cruise director gave. He got antsy so I held
him up in my arms and everybody started clapping for him and
he thought they were clapping for him. He had this gigantic
fangy grin on his face because Mommy claps for him, therefore
everyone clapping must be clapping for him. It was really sweet.
It's like
you should care what other people think, but not let it interfere
or harm you in anyway on a personal level. I used to be so sensitive
to such things, sometimes I still am, but for the most part,
I have learned to ignore some shit.
Let's see...
I said cunt a lot. Talked about mom and he didn't even flinch,
I was impressed. I want to be honest and up front, no point
in acting like I am some big mysterious person when I simply
am not. Besides, I think when you lead someone into believing
something about you that isn't true, it's much harder to keep
up the lie.
But writing
this stuff here... sometimes it's hard to live up to it because
people get a preconceived notion about you and when they meet
you in person, I'm different then they imagined... because you
know what I have been thinking, but you don't know my mannerisms.
I'm a
typical looking, soft-spoken Southern woman that says cunt a
lot.
Thursday,
October 29, 1998
I am in
a most grievous mood today.
My fucking
cat peed in my living room. Bastard. He keeps trying to come
up to me and love on me but I caught him shitting on the floor
this morning and beat him good. I will be one of those mother's
you see in the grocery store that spanks her child, if I bother
to even have kids.
I think
he doesn't like his kitty litter, but the little fucker has
been using it for the past 2 months, why should he not like
it now? I think it was an act of rebellion since I having given
him soft food all week. Fucker. And he just recently threw up
on my red cap so now I am beginning to worry that maybe in his
geriatric years, he is going senile?
Then someone
I know intimately, who shall remain nameless, had lipo done
on her body. Which has me thinking, maybe that's not such a
bad idea... Just certain areas, like my head.
Brandi
had her baby. It's suppose to be a happy occasion and all, but
I can't deal with it. I am not over mom dying so how can anyone
possibly expect me to celebrate a new life when I think so much
of one that is gone?
It's like
I am a big puzzle and the center pieces are missing and I don't
know how to put it all together, or fill in the gaps to make
it complete. I know a lot of women in my position usually have
children to make this feeling go away, but then you can put
too much importance on your child's life to make you feel whole
again and I just don't think that is fair or right to do to
someone. I want to get it all straight in my head before I have
to contend with someone else's.(At this rate, I will never breed).
I feel
like I am faking so much of who I am lately. I am so sad about
mom and it feels like it will never be right, but I try and
act like I am ok, that it doesn't bother me that much when it's
all I can think about for the most part.
And my
fucking fruit loop of a brother. He's such a god damn nut. The
things he is saying and the things he is doing are just so fucked
up. No one is there to listen so he has to work twice as hard
to be a fucking nut.
And I
guess running away won't really be much of a solution... someone
is playing the piano. How beautiful.
I have
to pack. I leave for Chicago today and I am rather excited,
even though I am a little sad. Zack and Co. are having a big
party tomorrow. We are all going as a bunch of hos. I'm calling
us the ho brigade.
Friday,
October 30, 1998
Maybe
I should just move up here.
Every
time I am here I feel so good. It's nice being around a group
of people my age that are professionals. We usually always have
fun.
Last night
we decorated for the party tonight. There are going to be a
lot of people here tonight. I even have a blind date so I am
excited. There are a lot of what seem to be interesting men
up here. Much different from back home, but then again...
Zack's
ex came in last night and in my opinion was so...rude. There
is something to be said about Southern mannerisms, and sometimes
I wish I could throw mine out the door.
Yesterday,
since Zack was still at work when my plane got here, I took
a cab. This guy sat and talked about how we need things in life
and went on and on and on, just talking shit. I wanted to tell
him to shut the fuck up, but being a typical Southern cunt I
just kept my mouth shut.
Then last
night when Zack's ex came in, he said under his breath "I left
my boyfriend around here somewhere." I thought to myself, what
a sign of low breeding. That was totally uncalled for and it's
not as if everyone in that room couldn't figure out the guy
with him was his boyfriend. That was just so crass and so not
my culture. You don't announce such things in that kind of forum,
with your ex standing there.
Zack was
just like, "Well, you know, that's just him, that's the way
he is."
Some dickless
wonder signed my guestbook and didn't have anything nice to
say (except that I look like a drag Queen, which I take as the
ultimate compliment since Queens take so much time to take care
of themselves... more often then not, I am impressed with the
way a man dressed up like a woman looks then a woman just looking
nice) which has me thinking either I need to put this diary
up so you have to use a password or just totally say fuck it.
I would
have left his entry there for all the world to see if only he
wasn't a dickless wonder and had left an e-mail address where
he could be reached.
Hey, dickless,
in case you were wondering, it's not my ass that I would have
done. But after last night, I realized I am the type of girl
that I am and if I looked like a model it wouldn't matter because
I have a mind.
As we
were decorating last night, one of the guys there is dating
a model and they stopped by. I don't think she has ever had
a bad day in her life. She was so thin and so stupid, but in
that cute model way. I couldn't help but think, oh, you are
so stupid, but it's so cute coming out of your mouth because
you are so damn cute. It was like my instinct told me to hate
her but I couldn't because she is one of those wonderful creatures
that is wonderful looking so anything that came out of her mouth
was wonderful.
I am not
like that. I am still changing into something I have not determined.
My mom
was one of those kinds of girls, pretty and dumb and saying
all the right things to all the right people... class president,
captain of the cheerleaders and all that jazz. She could have
married anyone she wanted to, but she chose my dad.
She sacrificed
a lot for her kids, her life, her looks, lots of money. I just
don't think I can give so much of myself to children because
I feel like I will keep that one part of me I keep reserved
to myself, and when you are a mother, you can't do that. Or
if I were a mother, I couldn't.
I have
Zack's kitty laying on me, she is so sweet and little. Funny
how things that are little are things you just want to hold
and cuddle and kiss and say sweet things to. Kind of like people,
and that model chick. Girls that haven't had it hard, so you
try and protect them from certain realities because they are
so little and cute, and you want them to stay that way.
Oh well,
we all grow up.
I wonder...how
does one go about thinking "I want to be on Jerry Springer?"
I mean, Zack went to a taping and told me how funny it was,
and maybe one day I can come up here and watch it myself someday.
But what makes it so a person's ambition in life is to be on
Jerry Springer?
YEA! Tonight
is the Halloween party!!!!
Saturday,
October 31, 1998
Do you
have any idea what it is like to get a woman all worked up and
not be able to fuck her? Sure, men can get blue balls, but what
the fuck is it called for a woman? IT HURTS LIKE HELL!!!!
Let me
put it to you this way, at least your balls hang out and you
can take a cold shower and that help alleviate most of the problem,
but what can a woman do, douche?
I don't
think so, douching is bad for your body.
This also
happens to be a somewhat usual occurrence with me. Or what I
mean to say is it happens with more frequency then I would like
it to (like more then once is too many times for me).
I looked
like such a ho last night. Short black skirt, red some gross
inch nails, corset and a black wig. When we got to the hall,
early, I felt like my tits needed their own costume because
everyone stared at them in amazement. (I live with them, they
aren't that amazing to me).
I don't
care if a man is gay or straight, every man has a fascination
with tits, which is fine by me.
I met
my date and he was better looking then I imagined, which is
always nice. I think, however, he was going to try to charm
my pants off. He didn't consider the fact that although he is
charming, and I am charming, that my tits would have more charm
then the both of us put together. And plus, I was dressed like
a ho, so I acted accordingly.
Well,
I was loving all the attention I got. I put Syndy's make up
on and she was just looking down in amazement/lust. It was a
nice feeling as well. I don't see why people get offended when
someone of the same sex hits on them, I think it's the ultimate
compliment.
Think
of it, that means you are pleasing to both sexes, and who could
ask for anything more then that?
And after
I was not satisfied, I even considered thinking about changing
teams because I can't deal with being a fucking inferno one
second and the Russian stock market the next.
I missed
my first plane and took the second one home and was just so
glad I did. The sun was amazing and I got some cool photos.
Then I
started to get ready for this "International" Halloween party.
Same costume, different variation since I was back in Kanfuckme.
I don't know how, but I was eliminated from the first cut even
though my costume rocked. Andy said it was because of jealousy.
I thought it was because I was American, until I realized the
flapper girl was American.
Andy wasn't
too keen on going out, so we, Melissa and I, conned him into
staying at home while we went to Sparks. I was so disappointed.
It was so dead and so lame, but the drinks were cheap. Melissa
met one of the people I work with and I am going to try to set
them up, which could be more of a curse then a blessing, but
I think a blessing none the less.
When we
left Melissa's, Andy and I went to Denny's. There was
a long wait and there was a couple that was a little put off
and I told them they could eat with us.
At first,
when I heard his dirty jokes about Monica, I wanted to die and
I thought maybe it was a mistake, but when we sat at our table
I have never had such a good time.
He was
deaf and just so funny. He's from the same county I am and he
had been in an accident involving train tracks a few years ago.
We played off one another so hard.
I don't
think his wife was expecting to meet someone like me, which
was someone like her husband. We played and laughed and it was
just an enchanting evening.
All kinds
of freaks kept coming in and I soon realized everyone went to
Phoenix Hill for their costume party. There was a $1500 prize
and some guy with Monica sewed on his crotch won.
I had
a really great Halloween. This is really turning out to be an
amazing year.
