Wednesday
August 4, 1999
I have
been so busy.
I don't
have a job yet... God... I think one of the reasons I took this
apartment since it was in such a state of disrepair, is so I
could fix it up the way I will like it.
I have
been fine tuning, putting my stuff away, painting... Damian
put in my ceiling fans and thank God for him because I think
if I had to do it I would have cried from frustration. I stole
Kevin's air conditioner and put it in my window... let me write
that again. Grisha put my air conditioner in because I knew
I was too... inept to even try. One time Andy and I tried putting
an AC in our apartment at my mom's house and we could do nothing
when it fell out the window and passed the gravity test. I have
been a little leery since of dealing with them. So I had Grisha
do it.
Well...
I suppose Kevin thought it would be my fucking pleasure to put
his air conditioner in his window. Now I bought the fucker and
let me tell ya, it is BIG. He was becoming frustrated, I was
about ready to tell him to go blow himself because I hate dealing
with that shit. Then I heard a gentle wrap wrapping but there
was no Lenore...
It was
Damian and I don't think I have been happier to see someone
in my entire fucking life. Damian is an Electrical Engineer
and I hazarded a guess that he KNEW exactly what to do.
We kicked Kevin out and I was Damian's helper.
My apartment
is a much happier place thanks to him and my older sister, Lesli,
who has been helping me paint. We are a third of the way done
so... it's nice doing something while I don't have a job and
have been watching my nephews as Lesli finishes school.
Kevin
and I are getting along better and better. We are going to Buffalo
this weekend for a friend's wedding. Lesli took me to Value
City and I found this great dress. I went and bought all the
hardware so I will be nicely equipt when we go to this thing.
I had to buy a minimizer bra to smoosh my tits so they would
fit in the dress and still look decent.
The other
great thing is that Jenn has been in town from LA. I have had
the best fucking time with her. She has been venting up a storm,
but since we share similar frustrations with life, love and
everything else in between we make great friends. She is more
phenomenally beautiful then she ever has been.
She met
Kevin and she likes him.
So...
I have had a lot going on.
The coolest
fucking thing that happened today was that Nate lost his second
tooth today while he was here. It was really loose and Noah
kicked him in the mouth and it fell out. I was just ecstatic.
I kept telling him I would give him $5 if he let me do it but
he wouldn't do that... or he wouldn't fall for that trick.
Thursday
August 5, 1999
I guess
I have a "proclivity for burning bridges." Joe and I got into
a fight again. I think it's just a replay of what happened to
us when we were 15 but this time on a much grander scale. I
have learned that no matter how hard people try to change themselves,
and believe that what they are saying is true they do very little
to change the situation they are in.
He told
me that I was full of self-pity, and this is why I was born
with a brain tumor. HELLO??? Is anybody home? Now I am all up
for believing in reincarnation, but I refuse to fucking believe
that the reason I was born with a congenital birth defect is
because I am full of self pity. Bodies do not come with the
FDA stamp of approval.
I think
he is just trying to justify his behavior by projecting it onto
me. I think of all the people on the planet I am one of the
very few who has every fucking reason in the world to pity myself
but I know, from experience, that when you feel sorry for yourself
consistently it's hard to get anything done.
And I
am the one that is whacked because I don't respect him for going
back to his abusive wife. Well EXCUUUUUUSSSSSE ME. I think he
deserves to be treated better then being beat up by his wife.
Once when I was over there she told me how disappointed her
mom was in that she just married a computer programmer... her
mommy wanted her to marry a doctor or a lawyer.
Now Joe
is making bank and I am sure she is keeping her big fat mouth
shut. I'm dating a lawyer and it looks like I am going to be
the one that will be the bread winner in our relationship.
So... I
have burned the bridge because "I'm the one living in self-pity"
meanwhile he was the one manipulating my feelings to feel sorry
for him when he could have easily remedied the situation he
was in WITH HER by moving to Chicago without her.
All I
have to say to that is that I admire him as an artist, and I
think he is a great daddy, but as a friend he is the one that
is living in self-pity when he finds it necessary to manipulate
me to feel for him.
The whole
situation is fucked up and I just refuse to put myself in a
position where he can do that to me anymore. Especially when
he is upset with me and then tells me shit like I am full of
self-pity and that's why I was born with a brain tumor.
I admit
there are times where I do feel sorry for myself. There are
times I hold such sadness in my heart that I don't know what
to do with it, but that doesn't keep me from living my life
or being responsible for my actions.
I think
also when we began communicating I was at a really low point
in my life where I wanted to believe in everyone since I had
just began to understand the loss I felt from my mother dying.
I wanted to believe in other people and be a more forgiving
person but I have found that being like that is a good fucking
way to get royally screwed. People will take advantage of you
when you are down, especially your "friends".
Jenn and
I talked about that a lot. She has been the same fucking way.
Too bad we weren't that way with one another, but then I don't
think we would put ourselves in the position where we were co-dependent
on one another. We just bitch to each other about shit we do
to ourselves to make life harder.
I asked
Kevin last night if he ever got in these kinds of situations
and he told me no. He is usually very careful about who he trusts.
I am growing to appreciate him more and more. He is a wonderful
man.
I think
before I was so desperate to fall in love that I felt a co-dependent
relationship was love since that is all I have known. I am beginning
to feel in my heart that being like that is not love. Having
people that depend on you for support and don't return it is
one sure fire way of feeling a greater loss then the other one
you are experiencing. Masking your sadness with other people's
misery does not alleviate the sadness, but causes more issues
you must contend with and I am sick of putting up with other
people's shit.
My shit
is my shit and sometimes it's just easier not to be involved.
I am finding it easier to be more superficial with my emotions
and invest myself where I will get a greater return. If burning
a bridge is what I must do to cut myself off from feeling sorry
for someone else, then I must do it. He's a big boy now, completely
able to make his own decisions. I do not have to watch as that
relationship heads for doom once again and he needs a shoulder
to cry on. Let him feel sorry for himself because I feel like
I hold very little pity for myself... and I have more reasons
to pity myself because most of the chaos I have experienced
is so far beyond my control. And even when it's self-inflicted
I do it to get in touch with those feelings I have been so familiar
with. Another hit of danger. Trying to feel some butterflies
in my tummy.
When Melissa
and I went to Kentucky Kingdom for her birthday there is this
ride that takes you up six stories and drops you into a free
fall. I did not want to ride it at all. I got so nervous standing
in line. I HATE heights, but I force myself to go up and look
down so I won't be so fucking scared and I can just realize
that there is no justification in feeling that fear.
We got
up to the top of that ride and I looked out at Louisville, what
I could see and then felt myself in a free fall that made my
cunt pull tight in anticipation of landing with a thud. I lost
my breath, my heart stopped and my head pounded. When we got
off the ride, I was giddy and light headed. I even got turned
around so Melissa had to guide me back out.
That's
what it feels like... those 3.7 seconds. When someone dies,
when the events surrounding you are so beyond your control.
Going to Russia has the same effect on me. Like a cat being
thrown out of a window. I am finally starting to feel like maybe,
just maybe there is ground underneath me. That I will land on
all fours and everything will be just fine.
I HATE
heights... they scare me so much. That ride scares me. Controlled
chaos on a mild scale. On our way out, I looked over to Melissa
and asked "Shall we ride it once again?"
Monday
August 9, 1999
I ran
my hands across the woven sheer part of my dress, looking at
the different variations of color as the light shifted across
my dress. I am going to wear the same dress to Jenn's wedding
in October. It's quite feminine. I struggled to breathe under
the control of my artillery, looking around realizing I was
the only stupid cunt that bothered to wear one of those things.
Not even the bride had one under her dress. I kind of felt like
a fool... siting there meeting all of Kevin's friends and family
in one foul weekend. I don't think I could make him understand
how uncomfortable I was. "You're doing fine" he would assure
me as I said many vapid things to him.
Kevin
likes to think there is no big difference in Southern and Northern
culture, and maybe there isn't that much a difference... but
there is at the same time. Someone, I can't remember who, asked
me how I was doing and Kevin answered "She tolerates Northerners."
I suppose tolerate is a great way of saying it.
On a one
to one basis, I think everyone can be great, but as a whole...
I didn't care for Boston when I was there. I made a great friend...
Samantha, but as far as getting a feel for the Northern culture
I could care less.
I've also
heard recently that "Southerners are nice like the English are
polite." I disagree. I think that if a Southerner takes an interest
in who you are they remember details about your life, or that
was the way I was raised. Or maybe that's just the consideration
I show other people.
People
like to think that Kentucky isn't all that Southern the further
South you go but I feel completely at home in Louisiana and
Texas. There is just something about our culture. I like it
that I can say hello to a stranger and share that little bit
of caring with someone, or smile at a stranger in a way that
means I don't need to be picked up but any compliments to myself
would be appreciated.
I was
outside, rubbing my dress, smoking an illegal Cohiba cigar.
I think some of the men resented me there and I don't suppose
it was the fashion with this group of women to smoke cigars.
I can enjoy a fine Cuban cigar. I know why they are considered
the best and that is because they are full of flavor. I sucked
on some strange man's cigar because I wanted to taste what they
were smoking and I was sorely disappointed. Mine packed quite
a punch for it's delicate size.
Kevin
and I fought on our way up there. The first few phone conversations
we had he was so funny and open and it was such a pleasure to
talk with him that we talked for hours before realizing how
much time we had spent together. The first time I met him I
thought he was such a dick. I came into his apartment, after
waking up from a Saturday night binge, hungry and curious about
him so he told me he was going to cook lunch and I invited myself
over. I walked in and saw this amazing hat. The kind that Indiana
Jones might wear. I have a hat fetish. I love them and my mom
spent about $10 collecting hats for me as I was growing up.
He told me it was his rain hat blah blah blah. I don't remember
much about that day but that the scallops that he prepared for
dinner needed some lemon to cut the fishy taste and that I hadn't
bathed that day. We sat and talked for quite a while and he
said many things that offended me. I got up to leave in a huff
never intending on speaking to him again because he seemed like
such an ass and declared "...and that's why YOU will
be masturbating alone tonight."
He stopped
me at the door and put that damn hat on my head and said "It's
raining outside." I almost started to cry. I figured that if
he was that generous to place it on my head that maybe he really
was a gentleman. Maybe he did have a generous heart (and he
had taste since I saw some of the presents he picked out for
loved ones).
So we
had gotten along really great at first... but like everything
relationships are always in flux and on the ride up there I
bitched at him for not being attentive to my needs. I was upset
because he hadn't serviced me as well. We had this little discussion
when we drove back from Danville that if he wasn't more expressive
with me that I can't deal with that. I don't expect him to tell
me he loves me, but god dammit I do expect him to be sweet and
kind and more tender then what he has been. He told me yesterday
that he is so comfortable with me that he forgets that I need
TLC too.
He started
to make excuses for his behavior and I told him to stop. I told
him that I have every reason in the world to be a rancid cunt
because of the life I have lead but I instead chose to be a
good person. I like being inherently kind but I am also aware
of the fact that some people can take advantage of my kind nature
at times and then I feel like I have been used. Zack and I had
this discussion several months ago where you can't really expect
anything once you give something to someone.
After
giving this much consideration I think that is just an excuse
some people use to excuse their improper behavior. I don't like
to run a tally on the good things I do to help life run a little
smoother for my friends, but god dammit if I am not appreciated
for my efforts then you can go fuck yourself.
I used
to rationalize that way of thinking with "If I can live without
my father, then I sure as hell can live without you." But I
am finding these days that that particular attitude isn't one
I can back up anymore. I wish things with my father could work
out and I could hang out with him but I think he is too caught
up in his own materialistic well being to deal with his emotions.
I also don't think he is ready to forgive himself or even acknowledge
that he fucked up severely when he was raising us.
What can
I say or think about that anymore? What's done is done and if
he can't make up his mind to start living his life by doing
the right thing and standing by his word by paying for my college
like he once said he would then there is nothing I can say or
do to alleviate this situation. I have done my best, I initiated,
once again, in hopes that we could maybe have a healthy relationship
now that we are both adults but he continues to behave like
a child in his thinking that I have done some grievous wrong
to him that can never be rectified. He was selfish and self-absorbed.
My childhood was hell because he didn't think of the ramifications
of his actions because he was out living his life for himself
and we were just accessories. I can't say that I still don't
see myself too differently in that role today.
I have
tried very hard to let go many of the fractures in my personality
but once I let something go it seems there is something else
to mend in it's place in my psyche. I start getting to a point
where I think I am past so many things and something takes me
back down to feeling those strong emotions once again and usually
it's me doing it to myself. I think I keep trying to go through
a door in a labyrinth that I have created myself that never
existed.
Kevin's
family was poor when he was growing up. There were 9 kids. I
don't suppose he had his own bedroom until he was much older
where when I would go to my mom's on the weekend's I had my
own room. I shared one with Anne too at my father's house. He
can't stand to see big houses where just a few members of a
family dwell when that was one of my realities.
In contrast,
I think I made myself uncomfortable on purpose while we were
in Buffalo. It didn't seem right to go there and there not be
some kind of great emotional tug-of-war going on. It was calm
and peaceful. His mom reminded me of Andy's mom in many ways
(and no matter what we have been through personally, I still
love Andy's mom because she was a good woman). She was calm
and peaceful and there was no hidden agenda, no reason to make
me feel like a fool, she didn't seem that judgmental and the
worst offense between the siblings was when his sister, Beth,
wouldn't go pick up his brother, David, in the rain and he came
home and stabbed our bread with a knife out of frustration.
I can't
imagine what it was like for Kevin to grow up. Calm, stable,
loving and dull. I don't see him that way. He kind of proved
it to me that things weren't like that within his own soul during
our first few conversations but he has clammed up ever since.
I think people are really scared to present themselves as who
they are and that is the worst crime this society forces upon
her people. There is some level of conformity we all must maintain.
I can
only do it to a certain degree. I need to feel connected to
other people. Even if it's though a simple e-mail. I need to
know that how I feel myself is not wrong and that my interpretations
of life are not just my own, but that other's also share in
this human experience much in the way that I do. I think that
a lot of people go mad because they think other people don't
have the capability of showing their emotional depth to any
level but once I am shown that it does exist in other people
I will knock it down a few more notches to see how far my friends
are willing to go. I am finding my boundaries, what limits and
extremes I am willing to tolerate. It's not an easy task feeling
those variances in other people and not always knowing when
I have gone to far, but I am starting to discover that maybe
I am much more vanilla then I think.
I must
also remind many of you that just because I write about something
that crosses my mind every once in a while that seems particularly
vile that doesn't mean I hold it close to my heart but by bringing
it all out in this kind of forum I am also able to let a lot
of shit go. I find it difficult to go back and read some of
the things I have written on occasion because I was under such
duress... that doesn't mean today that I feel the same way.
I am forging
a better relationship with my sister, Lesli. It's strange to
have someone in your life for so long and still feel so distant.
I don't like this sensation. I should feel closer to her then
anyone, but many of the little emotional betrays of our youth
aren't so easy to alive.
I am finding
that when I do reflect upon our relationship, she has been the
strongest influence in my life. My music taste, my punk phase,
my ability to rebel while conforming at the same time can somehow
be traced back to watching her live her life. Even when she
thinks everything seems so fucked up, there is still that order,
that emotional stability that clings to her like a wick in dynamite.
Always more subtle and much more demure, she was definitely
my role model growing up since the people I was suppose to admire
were always so fucked up. I think of all my relationships, I
take her for granted. She has always been there for me, washing
my hair when I had brain surgery, finding traces of blood behind
my ear and gently scrubbing it away, my graduations, I remember
her teaching me how to swim underwater so I could swim in the
deep end at Kamp Kavanaugh. She showed me how easy it was to
get some of my girl scout badges by helping me call the fire
department and figuring out how to do first aid. It's funny
when I put it all in context... I don't think mom would have
survived without her and when her and mom separated I kind of
took that emotional void mom was feeling from missing her. I
can't say that I blame Lesli for wanting to live her own life,
I did too. I just hope to god I am not the kind of mother that
always wants her children surrounding her so they don't develop
into healthy adults on their own.
I think
from watching Lesli I can tell that I don't have to be that
way. That I can instill a neediness in my babes without causing
co-dependence.
I think
Kevin is the first relationship I have had where we aren't co-dependent
on one another.
It took
forever to drive home last night. I ended up driving most of
the way and my carprel tunnel has been hurting so much. But
last night was the highlight of my trip. I got to stop in Columbus
to see my friend, Echo, and her beau, Sam. He's from New Zealand
and he is more mature then most men my age. I think he actually
gets it. What life is all about and he's only 18. When she started
telling me how sweet he was to her I stared crying on the phone.
They had been waiting months and months to meet one another
and last a week ago last Thursday they finally did get to meet.
When I met Echo myself, I wasn't sure if she was going to be
as rocking in real life as she was in person because I have
found that many people like to lie about themselves, at least
to themselves and portray themselves as someone they are not.
Well she isn't like that and neither was he.
So I was
excited all fucking weekend because I knew at the end of my
trip, after going to a wedding and eating near Niagara Falls
and going to a foreign country (yea! I at least got to go to
one this summer, even if it was to just drive down Niagara Parkway
which is almost as beautiful as the Highway 1 drive in Ca. and
see the falls) and shopping my ass off I knew on the way back
I was going to get to see one of my favorite people on the planet,
and her budding love.
So far
they seem to be the Uber Internet couple. To say I am slightly
jealous would be an understatement. I had to give him a big,
fat kiss for being such a gentleman and being so wonderful to
her because I think she deserves nothing but to be treated the
best way that any man can.
She also
finally got to meet Kevvy Joe. She has this way about her...
and he can match her wit and venom and to see them react off
one another made me so happy. To see Sam and Echo together was
enough of a treat to keep me driving most of the night so I
could kiss her as well and tell her I loved her. So that was
one of my treats to myself, along with so many others.
So...
that is what's been going on with me this weekend. Just a run
of the mill kind of weekend pact full of bitching, moaning,
glamour and a quickly after 5 whole days of not being serviced.
I was really too tired to do much of anything but lay there...
but I think every once in a while that's ok. I came, he came
we are all happy. Tonight I will take my revenge, however, and
the Ninja pussy shall show no mercy.
Wednesday
August 11, 1999
I feel
like I am going slightly mad. So many things are going on. I
have been desperately trying to renovate my apartment to make
it much more habitable by painting it and scrubbing the floors
but yesterday I watched in horror as water started running into
what I want to be my closet. I could have fucking died.
I was
going to start painting that room today or yesterday... but
now I am just stupidfied. I talked to the landlord about putting
on a security system because Jenn scared the fuck out of where
I am living. I scream so loud when I am having sex with Kevin
that I want my own fucking house out in the woods so not everybody
can hear us fucking.
I will
never live in an apartment again. I don't care. They fucking
suck. Dealing with a landlord that is for the birds. I am so
sick of this. I will take any kind of job... sigh...
I hate
feeling like I am so hard up for money. I am going to enter
a photo contest again and hope that I actually win. That always
makes me feel like what I do is worth a damn. My submission
for the Art Fair didn't win but I bet if I had worked on it
with Zack and he submitted it from Zefer it would have won.
They let big companies win. I hate how everything has to boils
down to politics. Whose dick have you been sucking lately?
Kevin
was voted most likely to succeed. That scares me. I was voted
a class favorite too. I was voted most Individual. I think I
have lived up well to my title. I believe in standing up for
myself and the rights of others.
I was
talking to Grish a little earlier tonight about how I needed
to move into a place where I could see my things. I had a house
filled with junk over a year ago and I need to see my stuff
around me once again. But this is such a slow and painful process.
But life
seems to be moving along really well despite many of the fears
I have these days. I have been working on a new site, a rush
job that will help keep up with some political issues Kevin
has been facing at work, so I am excited to be a part of this.
Hopefully
I will have a link in the next couple of days.
Sunday
August 15, 1999
I am sitting
here waiting for Damian and Echo to get her girlie going. Sam
is from New Zealand and we are taking him to a flea market for
the first time today.
So...
Damian is here, my stereo is working again and I need to find
some shelves for my speakers. Sigh... a lot has been going on
and when I get a chance I will write a lot, but I am glad Sam
and Echo are here, we have had a lot of fun and she is a gem.
Yesterday
when we were at the Antique Mall I told her that the last time
I was there I was with my mom and that I missed my mom and she
put her arm around me and... it was one of those moments that
made me realize just HOW special she is to me. I think she has
the potential to be one of the greatest writers of the next
century... her writing is so beautiful, the little writing she
has let me see.
She's
out of the bathroom and foxy like it's going out of style. We're
going.
Monday
August 16, 1999
I should
go to the doctor. I woke up this morning and my side is killing
me. I want to cry, but it's been so long ago since I cried that
it's kind of hard to do it when I am just in this kind of pain.
I thought I slept on my shoulder wrong last night, but the muscle
would have straightened out by now.
I am sure
it's appendicitis.
Kevin
has been kind of an ass lately. So much so that one of his "friends"
had the audacity to say something that he had been confiding
to him in private to my fucking face, and that just proves to
me that Kevin has been running his big fat mouth and his friend,
who happens to be from Danville, has no fucking manners.
I mean
why should I pay for myself when I am going out with his friends?
He fucking knows I don't have a job and he does so he should
be paying if he wants me to go out with him.
I haven't
been fucking him. I was ready to break up with him on Friday
because lately he hasn't been insighting wonderful feelings
in myself nor do I feel he supports me as I support him. I am
not going to put myself in that kind of position again.
So last
night, after he made this wonderful dinner for me and Damian,
Echo and Sam he thought I would service him. I told him the
only way I would do it is if he got on his fucking knees and
said he was sorry.
"Sorry
for what?"
"Oh, you
know, running your big fucking cake hole."
So we
wrestled and he got on top of me and tried to say that he was
on his knees. Sucks that I am so strong because I threw him
off of me and eventually he was on the fucking floor on his
knees apologizing for being a dick.
He likes
to think that because he went so many years without having sex
that his resolve is stronger then my own, but I don't think
it's too hard to prove to him that when I feel the way I did
the other day, I can go a lot longer then him.
Ok...
I am going to take a little nap.
Tuesday
August 17, 1999
I tried
to copy a tape from Echo before she left but I forgot to do
it and now it's sitting in my cassette deck. It has great fucking
songs on it and I am going to have to find that cassette and
copy this one. I think I have one in my car.
Did you
know that I have about 76 web pages on this site alone? I was
telling Kevin after we looked at some of the sites he wanted
to link to how important it was to keep you links so that they
follow one another. That's why Cascading style sheets are so
important. You can create the headers and footers and just reference
the text to which ever designing you wish to elaborate on.
Sigh...
my diet is about to take a drastic change. It seems when you
have gall stones they don't like you to eat very much fatty
food so I guess there won't be too many days of eating fried
greed tomatoes or fried chicken anymore. Oh, by the way I couldn't
stay a vegetarian. Looks like maybe I should try a little harder
to become one again (as I sit here enjoying the rest of that
London Broil Kevin and I fixed last week for dinner).
Kevin
keeps me fed very well. Tonight was a light meal of beans and
rice. He fixed chicken for two nights while Echo and Sam were
here and I made some good ol' fashioned salmon croquettes (basically
fried salmon burgers).
So if
we are not going out to eat, then he usually cooks. He loves
to cook but so do I.
My eating
habit have gone to hell.
So...
I have been painting again today.
Sometime
I think to myself is being in a relationship really worth it?
I mean I am having what has seem to be the best sex of my life,
but I think I have felt that way about every lover I have had
that has been really good. I think there has to be a sexual
evolution of a woman's love life in order for her to feel comfortable
with a certain kind of man.
I have
felt strongly connect to several men, but I never felt a man
in between my legs that made me feel like he belonged there.
Is that the big difference? And then I ask myself if it's even
worth it. If he doesn't attend to my emotional needs, then I
don't think I need that either. Some guys have seemed to attend
to my emotional needs, but that is rare and maybe I don't feel
that way... I don't want to bog myself down with some of the
thoughts that still plague him that shouldn't, like locking
his keys out of his apartment and then acting like it's such
a big deal.
I don't
deal well with that kind of irrational behavior from myself
very well, and I am a woman. Have I just had most of the sensitivity
beaten out of me? Am I exceptionally cruel because I just don't
get upset over his little ordeals?
I am sure
I have my hang-ups, like I won't use Aqua fresh, Blue Dawn,
Tree Seeme shampoo or ERA detergent because that's what my dad
used to use when I was a child and those smells start to remind
me of a childhood that haunts me incessantly.
But freaking
out because I locked my keys out of my apartment, no, not even
when I locked myself out of my grandfather's truck on my birthday
in 1998 did I totally freak. I was just disappointed that I
did that and had to wait forever for someone to come let me
in.
It takes
a lot for me to freak out and Kevin asked me the other day why
I wait and talk to him a few days later when things didn't seem
like they bothered me back then and that's because I had time
to take to think about something. I hate responding to people
when they piss me off and then don't give me a chance to calm
down first. I have a fucking evil temper from the depths of
hell. I think all of my family know not to piss me off because
when I get really angry, I explode. Going to Russia has calmed
me down a considerable amount believe it or not. I know now
that not only do things not have to go my way, the whole country
can change in a day and there is not a damn thing you can do
but sit and watch. Oh... mom dying didn't hurt that temper thing
either.
Once I
was out from under that tremendous pressure I have learned to
be much kinder with my self and especially my family. Sometimes
Anne can freak, but it's not anything I can't handle anymore.
Last time we fought I wanted to cause her bodily harm but I
controlled myself with such aplomb that I commended myself.
If it
takes so much from my family to piss me off, then I don't understand
how something Kevin says that he says without thinking pisses
me off so much. I know he just hasn't considered the implications
of his words, but... if this is what a relationship is suppose
to be like, no thanks, I would rather be alone.
But I
am being calm... and I am going to watch and see what happens
for a change instead of just telling him to fuck off. He was
on his knees the other night, after all.
Thursday
August 19, 1999
I looked
into her brown eyes... they are huge with exhaustion and sadness
at the realization that she could have lost her husband, my
brother in law, because of negligence.
It's been
a stressful week... Doug had his appendix taken out today. He
sat in the hospital with it ruptured for 4 days. It probably
ruptured over a week ago.
I can't
bring myself to go see him... it's hard and hospital duty sucks.
At least he's not at the hospital where my mom and sister practically
owned the third floor for a year doing chemo.
I have
had some what of a reprieve with my medical problems, and my
trauma. I have led a pretty easy life in the past year but it
seems Lesli won't get that opportunity, ever. She has the grey
hairs to prove it.
I have
had so many different emotions lately. I am mad at myself for
not going to see him but then I don't want to put myself through
the torture of seeing him sick. Last time he was in the hospital
it was to put rods in his back about 2 summers ago... when Noah
was just a little bitty thing. I remember walking in with Andy
and it took everything I had not to just start screaming at
the horror of seeing him lay there, his face ashen from pain.
I could deal with myself being sick, mom and Anne no problem
as well as Poppa but not Doug. He can't be sick in my mind because
it's not fair.
I drove
home from Lesli's today... weary because I had a new home to
come to and didn't have to drive as far and sad because I am
not used to making this trip home without seeing my mom. You
would think after a year and a half that the emptiness I feel
from losing her would somehow dissipate...
I walked
up to my porch and noticed the little stuffed Rottweiler puppy
on my stoop and realized Damian had been here and had gone.
Fuck. I tried calling him earlier today because it rained for
a little bit and he said yesterday that he told himself the
next time it rained, he would go and pick up his diplomas (one
in Electrical Engineering and the other in Philosophy). I don't
know if my message got through or not. I came in and picked
up the phone and now I have it so when I check my voice mail
it says "Miss Clay" instead of "Cunts are us". I never knew
when you left voice mail that it picked it who you were and
told you who called by how you identified yourself. I thought
to call Zack at that moment and sat down to pee and Zack had
already called and left me a message that his uncle had died
and that he would be down here this weekend. I called him back
and we made all the arrangements so tomorrow I have an ultrasound
at 8 am and then I will go see Doug and then go pick Zack up
at the airport.
The boys
were good today. Very good. Ian came by and I got to hang out
with him for a while and that was just so nice. He's going to
college now. I used to babysit him when I was a teenager and
he was just a babe. We talked about life, love, girls and how
he should be careful about the girls he dates at UK.
He played
with Nate some and as I look at him and listen to him talk,
I am proud to know that I did have something to do with him
turning out to be such a good man. He's got the biggest muscles
I have seen in a while and I know that the weight set I gave
to him when he was 9 or 10 went to good use. The talks about
how people can be in high school also helped him a lot... he
was voted "Most Personality" and I know that he is highly adaptable.
I think so highly of him and his family. His mom is going to
start teaching at OC with Lesli now.
When I
was young, I looked up to his mom more so then my own, and that
is a dangerous feeling to have because I knew I didn't belong
to them, but by seeing them react to one another I realized
to what degree I had been abused. You don't have to come home
and have it be a horrifying experience. That love does not have
to have conditions. That caring about someone does not have
to lead to bouts of anger.
Ian told
me today that he remembered once when I hit my head on the glass
table (this was right around the time I had brain surgery) and
got dizzy and sick and he called Mikey over to watch him. I
didn't remember that but as he told it to me the second time,
I vaguely started to recall it. He was the neatest kid. I loved
him like he was my own brother... more so because I took the
time to do things with him instead of just sitting around and
making sure nothing bad happened to him. We played video games
together, went to museums, went swimming. His dad is a storyteller
at Corn Island and I have this photo of him as a little
bitty guy wearing my biker jacket with the arms too long to
fit. I am sure he could fill that jacket out now.
Ang moved
into her new dorm so it like I am going through what it was
like to be a freshman all over again... how everything is so
new. I warned them both to be careful about people that are
really open. It seems that when people go do these things they
seems to forget that they aren't in high school and they pretend
to be open and cool and for the most part they are but then
that goes away really fast.
So...
sigh... I am still worried about Doug. I don't talk terribly
much about my family because I like to protect them to a certain
degree. Lesli and I have gotten a lot closer lately. It's very
nice. I think it's been hard on us all since mom tried to play
us off one another so we would never be close before, so with
her not being here it has made that aspect of my life much easier.
You may not get to choose your family, but it's nice to know
that people can change and things ebb and tide.
My emotional
well being as of late can be best described as when you are
sleeping and you feel a tickle of something on the hairs on
your face and you wake up and realize you have a bug crawling
on you that doesn't belong. Even though you get the insect off
of you, the feeling of being violated doesn't fade for several
minutes.
Friday
August 20, 1999
I can't
fucking believe it's already August the twentieth. I can't believe
I am going to have to have fucking surgery again.
You know...
I had no idea that gall stones could be such a nuisance. What
a pain in the ass. That's it... I want a new body. One with
a normal brain... you know when I watched Young Frankenstein
and his assistant accidentally got Abby normal brain I felt
there was something a little bit different about mine. So this
will make 4 surgeries before 30. Maybe if I hurry I can use
another one or two before then as well. Now my eating habits
are going to be way healthy and I am going to die a little death.
Andy laughed and said "well... you have at least 5 more surgeries
to go..." I hope humans have more then 9 lives because I sure
as hell would hate to waste one of them for fucking gall bladder
surgery. What a rip off. Melissa told me I was going to have
to spend the night in the hospital for one night too and that
is another great fucking waste of time. Although I bet I will
be on some nice drugs. Oh yeah, Thomas, if you want to continue
you felony drug habit but are afraid to get caught... maybe
you should search on-line for a "virtual" doctor and get a real
prescription. I was reading in the Leo this week that you can
do it easily that way. So... ouch. I am in a lot of pain. I
could hardly move on Monday when Diana was here I felt so bad
because I didn't want to move. Dr. Reid told me if it hurt real
bad again I could go to the emergency room and they would go
on and take it out. Fuck I want my mommy.
All this
stress has been wigging me out. I haven't been dealing with
things so swell lately. Just when I was starting to feel normal
once again I thought I was getting my shit somewhat together.
I guess it's not so bad. At least I am not working yet, that
would suck to have to start off missing a few days at the beginning
of my career.
I think
the last time this acted up was back in June the day I came
home from Chicago. I said something to Zack and he teased me
about it last night on the phone when I told him my brother
in law had an operation. I was really hoping there wasn't anything
really wrong with me. Now my eating habits will change and I
will lose weight and that scares the living hell out of me.
I don't want to be looked at like my mom was. I would rather
be a little chubby and have people kind of ignore me. It makes
my life easier. Well... with the way I feel now I have no desire
to eat. When you eat your gall bladder contracts to push bile
out and since it is squished now and there is an obstruction
it kind of feels like someone stabbing me in my right side.
On Monday I had trouble breathing.
I can't
believe William Shatner's wife died in her pool and he was the
host of rescue 911. I have lost all admiration I had for him
even when you could see his package in the old Star Trek. He
thought he was such a stud and now he has proved what a fucking
coward he is. He told 911 that he couldn't jump in the pool.
I am sad for him though. No one deserves to go through what
hell he will be faced with in the future. Accident happen all
the time, just not usually to famous people.
FUCK FUCK
FUCK... I am too tired to care any more... life in the fast
lane...
Sunday
August 22, 1999
Today
was a very good day. I did a lot of things today. Almost like
I used to do before mom died. Zack came back last night and
we went out for drinks. It was nice and then we came home and
Zack and I stayed up and talked like we used to. I am beginning
to believe we were both in a big funk because life seemed to
be somewhat uncertain for us both but now we have been talking
about our dreams again. It's such a welcome change.
We drove
down US 127 around Lawrenceburg in order to find some good deals
on the gigantic 127 Yard sale. The best deal I got were these
two Oriental rugs for a dollar a piece. They aren't in great
shape, but they are better then what I had.
But it
was a nice drive... I got really sunburnt. We came back and
tried to see when the Blair Witch Project was coming back on
since Zack hadn't seen it. Let me tell you... there is this
one scene where they are running out of the tent in the middle
of the night and it still fucking scares me. It's the kind of
movie that scares you to death but no one is willing to admit
they were ever scared.
So then
we came back and watched the end of the Simpsons and Futurama...
Zack had to get to the airport and I decided to go see Doug
after I dropped Zack off... I think this was the best visit
it has ever been... although I am sorry he lost his uncle.
So I was
talking with Doug... he hates being in the hospital. I giggled
at him and asked to see his incision scar and I had no idea
it would take my breath away and make me feel so vulnerable.
It looked like mom's scar. I remember when mom just had a scar
from when she had a C-section with Anne. Then they went up further.
Another surgery and still higher. The next one is I think when
the took her belly button but even then it could have still
been two surgeries away.
I called
Granny last night, sick from eating food. I told her I thought
mom probably suffered from gall stones... they never checked
her for that kind of shit since she had cancer and lived with
so much pain from all the other shit in her body. Still... I
can never help but wonder to myself how much my mom hurt because
this little gall stone hurts so much... I can't imagine what
it felt like for my mom to have all these horrible fucking surgeries.
I am reassured
though, through other people that the surgery I will have to
have is so minor that it's no big deal, which is comforting.
Jacinta's mother had it as well as the woman who interviewed
me the other day for a job.
So Doug
was in a good mood tonight. I haven't seen him making a bunch
of jokes in a long time. But he was in rare form tonight.
When I
think about the day, I basically hung out with guys all day...
that was a change of pace.
So when
I got back to my place I kept doing what I was doing to start
off my day... painting. I am glad to report that eating a bagel,
an Arby's Giant and some pasta did not make me sick all day.
This makes me feel better.
Colin
was making some funny faces on Friday. He is such a cutie.
So... I
am going to go get some DDA from Kevvy Joe.
Monday
August 23, 1999
So today
was a very busy day. I woke up and painted my bed room and then
went to the doctor around 2. Whined about having something in
my foot to the surgeon as she came into my room. We looked at
it together and she told me if she had the time to take it out
now, she would but that she was going to have to take my gall
bladder out. Not just the stone. Sigh... will that mean I will
no longer have any more gall?
Great,
great great... first an airhead and now I will have no gall.
Gotta love those corny medical jokes.
So I may
end up with a gross scar on my abdomen. I may even croak. I
find that highly unlikely but in case I do, thanks for reading
my journal. I think I should talk about what I plan to dish
out to everyone... to my younger sister, I donate my tits. I
know I know, she was always calling my tits "cow titties" in
high school, but that's just because she was jealous and now
I realize that. To Lesli... I leave a trip to Italy. To my brother
I leave my most prized possession, my brain, because he seems
to be walking around without one... oh... and my life... since
he has nothing better to do but sit on his ass and make hateful
remarks in my guestbook (which make me laugh every time... like
that time you were mad because I wanted to sleep with mom that
night and you couldn't have anyone else sleeping with your mommy
but you so when you got mad I just laid there and laughed and
you picked up the blanket, that soft blue satin one and ripped
it in half to show off your masculinity... when I read your
shit, that's how I laugh!). Zack naturally gets any great photo
equipment I have... Cds to Grisha, Amelda Marcos can have my
shoes to add to her collection, Jacy gets my new purse...
That's
just fucking morbid and I am not going to do it anymore.
I think
I need to do something about this obsession I have with dying.
When we went to the falls, I kept bugging Kevin about jumping
over the falls in a barrel and eventually make some other death
remarks.
Well...
now that mom is gone how can I change that philosophy? I mean...
I spent 10 years of my life preparing, contemplating, and dreading
death for so lone that when it happened, it wasn't as bad as
I imagined, because there is nothing you can say or do to cover
up that loss you feel in your heart. So... I have been trying
to be more obsessed with life and living but then I think I
have been sick with this thing for a while. It doesn't pop up
over night. It's the kind of thing that takes time.
I came
home from the doctor and tried to think if I could cook dinner,
decided I could so I fixed a big fat lasagna dinner and invited
a lot of people I care a lot about over. I finished painting
my room and then arranged it and made it easier for me so on
Wednesday after I have surgery I can just come home and collapse.
Anne's
going to ask off for work so I told her to come on Thursday.
I am hoping she can help me arrange my stuff. Kevin said he
will see if he can take off the afternoon, since my surgery
is at 1. It's outpatient. Funny when you think about the advanced
technology has made.
I am hungry
right now. I should go eat while I still can.
Tuesday
August 24, 1999
I take
the cotton balls down from their place in the shelf. The ritual
of preparing yourself for surgery is one that always lives in
your consciousness, especially when you have a mother who underwent
the knife so much. No eating after midnight, no drinking either.
It's just a simple surgery. Millions of people have had it.
It should be a breeze. Miss Stroud wrote me today to tell me
her boyfriend is suffering from the same. It's funny to think
that I am having surgery. I have gained so much resignation
in knowing that I will never be very healthy, at least not for
very long. Maybe I will have a couple of years away from that
hell but I am afraid that I will always be cut on. I can't understand
how people want to be cut in order to look better. There is
no kind of pain that lingers quite so deep as the deep incision
a scalpel can create. I didn't feel my upper lip in my mouth
after they did brain surgery for well over 6 months. And it
took me the longest time to adjust to living under constant
pain. I am a good patient. No no... I am an excellent patient.
I think doctors are surprised when they find things out. I think
my family doctor was going to shit when she found out this gall
stone was as big as it is. It's 1/4 the size of my gall bladder.
Miss Stroud said she sympathized with my pain but the only day
it really really hurt was last Monday. I have had to learn to
lump a lot of pain. It's like Sherre was saying the other week
about getting over something or falling under it. There is only
one time I like be under anything and that's when Kevin's big
fat cock is going in and out of me. He touched me tonight and
it's as though I felt everything in sparkles and tingles. It
was nice to be so sensitive. I wish I weren't in pain because
I would find getting satisfaction to be a much more pleasurable
experience.
Sigh...
I haven't cried yet. That worries me. Kevin doesn't even want
to really talk about it... like it will be gone tomorrow.
Zack called
and we had the best conversation. I love him so incredibly much.
It amazes me how we can be so much closer. I think from this
summer we both learned that the other person can be going through
massive shit and that it doesn't pay for us to hurt one another
in any way, shape or form because we both care about one another
so deeply.
I don't
think I have ever told him this, but I feel like as long as
I have him to care about that I am going to be even more picky
about the man I choose to stay with because if they can't treat
me just as good... but I know he understands that.
We talked
about how I should save my gall stone and I should have it mounted
and I can make a necklace out of it. That would totally rock.
Too bad my dick head brother threw my room away because I had
saved all my wisdom teeth and I could make a very interesting
artifact it I can do something with my body parts.
Mikey
also called. It was wonderful to chat with her because we talked
about everything that was going on in her life. I have been
wanting to go to North Carolina for a while but I haven't been
up to doing so much and I have been so busy lately. Now it kind
of makes sense. It's like I told her on the phone that I was
really glad I didn't have any money to travel this summer because
I couldn't imagine getting some kind of infection from this
thing while I was exploring this world.
I didn't
really get a chance to talk with Damian. That makes me a little
sad. But he knows I love him.
I think
I have hit everyone... if I haven't I apologize.
Sigh...
I think it becomes easier to submit to the demons that be as
you get older. Someone asked me the other day what was my greatest
fear. I think it's heights but I am sure in reality it's dying
like my mom that scares me the most, or resembling her as she
evolved through her life. I like having a belly button...
They told
me when I was 18 that they may have to do surgery again. It's
funny how fast it seems half of that time is quickly approaching.
I try to live as much as possible. Sometimes I get a little
slowed down.
I told
Ben I was scared earlier. And then Kevin. But Zack was a great
comfort. OK... it's after midnight and I am turning into a pumpkin.
I really,
really miss my mommy.
Wednesday
August 25, 1999
I am really,
really in a great deal of pain. I was trying to think of all
the medical tests I have had... an upper GI, lower GI (which
really sucks because they shoot contrast up your ass) I think
the most painful thing was an angiogram, 2 ultra sounds, two
butt scopes, countless pap smears (If you are in your early
20s and you haven't had one you fucking need to... Damian's
brother's girlfriend had cervical cancer and she is just 18)
with one abnormal one, my wisdom teeth are gone, I used to see
an anestesiologist to have her inject my vagina with some kind
of drug to ease the pain left over from my first bitched vaginal
surgery. She thought I was faking the pain because I did not
scream as the liquid filled my adhesion covered vagina. That
was fun. I went to a real doctor then and he fixed me up so
at least it doesn't hurt when I walk. I still hurt when I have
sex though... Countless MRIs and Cat Scans, X rays on my chest
and legs... When I broke my ankle in the 5th grade they made
me wait over night to set it. I remember screaming on the soccer
field and the gym teacher thinking I was full of shit. I wonder
if she felt bad when she saw me with that cast going from my
ankle all the way to my hip. I remember riding in dad's Porsche
after they set it and they had given me a ginger ale and some
crackers and dad never let us drink in his car nor could we
eat so when I went to throw up I felt so bad, even though I
had a barf bag. I think my first memory is of Mrs. Bumpas carrying
me to my house when I was 3 or 4 with blood gushing out of my
head and then I passed out and then mom holding a bloody rag
over my head and her looking down at me, and I was laying in
a position where my head was next to the gear thing and looking
over to see the city. The nurse came in and asked the kid next
to me if they wanted a bubble or a shot and when she came to
me I screamed out that I wanted the bubble. I remember the stitch
fairy used to come see me. Not just for the 32 stitches going
across my head but also for that time dad was talking to a client
out in the alley and I was bored so I kneeled down on to a piece
of glass... but I don't remember that trip to the hospital.
I think now with mom being so seriously ill and Anne being so
sick and every one else it just seems routine to me these days...
no big deal, but I am not going to relish the pain when I am
done...
I am so
thirsty. Curse the doctor for doing this fucking surgery at
1 PM.
Thursday
August 26, 1999
Ow. I
am a little sore today but I have been doing a lot of things.
I have been walking around and just flitting about. I have all
these gorgeous flowers surrounding me, including one thing from
one of my new bosses. I am flattered and now I know I will work
for this woman.
Granny
came by and took some care of me... OK.... I need a nap now.
Friday
August 27, 1999
I am so
bored. I don't want to surf the net, I don't want to watch Jenny
Jones or some stupid Judge show... There is nothing for me to
do and I am just so bored. I can't read a book, I can't sleep...
I don't want to eat. I don't understand how people want to live
their life this way. There is nothing to it.
Well Mike
Jasper was amusing for a few minutes today... but now that I
am done reading him I am bored again.
Maybe
a nice BM would do me some good. Salon Magazine is boring me.
Especially this theme on drugs.
Saturday
August 28, 1999
Can an
upper white class up tight cunt live in the same house as her
domestically abusive white trash neighbors?
Today
on the REAL WORLD we explore the glass where the asshole
that beats up his old woman fell from the police car as he either
a)butted the window with his head or b) kicked the windows out
of the cop car.
You know
.... I thought I could get used to living in a crack house...
maybe this really isn't a crack house, but the upstairs neighbor's
son drives a really nice Cadalliac that was broken into a couple
of weeks ago and now the fucking alarm goes off every fucking
night. At least I don't need a security system with that piece
of shit hanging around. Then the other night I crawled up to
Kevin's apartment and got to hear some thing like "no man is
going to raise his fist to me!" Then DUMP HIS ASS. Kevin was
just glad that he's not going to have to defend this creep since
there is a "conflict of interest."
My neighbor
upstairs was chit chatting with Kevin the other week about how
they found a bomb outside in a garbage can. This also happens
to be the same woman too sorry to go out and buy a fucking plunger
and uses DRANO to pour down the toilet so when it over fills
and runs down my fucking walls there is DRANO running down the
walls and my nephew is saying to me "look Aunt Cathy, there
is liquid coming down." She's a winner. At least she has one
of the cutest grandkids I have ever seen. Too bad he's going
to grow up and be brain dead like the rest of his family.
Oh...
what else is wonderful about my new place... well, the first
day we were moving shit in the neighbor behind me was having
his furniture taken away because he went to one of those Rent
a Centers shit holes and leased some furniture. At least
the repo men driving the truck were kind enough to let us use
their dolly to take an air conditioner upstairs.
I just
don't give a shit any more. So my idiot neighbor's wires are
melting and this place can go up in flames. At least I have
my walls painted and I am finally starting to feel like this
place is home to me. My apartment fucking rocks and so what
if I have to turn off the air conditioner to run the microwave?
Well at
least Kevvy Joe told me he loved me last night... and I can
live with that!
Tuesday
August 31, 1999
Ut-oh...
tomorrow is a new month and it's about that time of year again...
time to change the way my web page looks! Thank God I have been
laid out or I would be fretting on how I actually wanted it
to look and all that other shit. So at least being an invalid
has had it's advantages.
Although
I haven't been a total invalid, and I think that was probably
a mistake. I went to a party with Kevin Saturday night and got
sick when I got home. Well... the doctor's orders were that
I couldn't drink alcohol for 24 hours AFTER my surgery, not
24 fucking days. So I laid around and belly ached for a while.
I can't
really remember what happened on Sunday since I am in a Vicodan
haze. I can't for the life of me figure out how someone can
get hooked on that shit... not only does it suck but it saps
your energy and makes you lethargic and mean.
My guts
hurt. Thank God Zack figured out my design problems. I think
I would have gone crazy from being on this medicine and having
to actually think at the same time.
I have
been cutting negatives today and running errands. I bought too
much film and drove my car for the first time today.
Yesterday
was horrible. I thought I would be good to stand and watch this
photo shoot take place, and it was only suppose to last until
7:30... 2 hours later I am holding my stomach in a lot of pain
riding back home with my boss. I don't think I am going to take
this job unless I am paid at least 300 a day. Lugging heavy
equipment around God's Green Earth is not my idea of explicit
joy... and I know she wasn't trying to be inconsiderate but
in the end it sure felt that way. I think I earned the flowers
she sent me yesterday.
This other
photographer, Steve, was a trip. I have never met a man with
so many great stories and so down to earth. I had a lot of respect
for him... he has no bills except for rent and is writing a
novel. Of coarse I have 2 degrees and am in debt but still...
he has photographed in Africa and shot surveillance work. I
think he is one of the old school photographer's that are left...
The kind that hustle their way into a place and get all comfy.
Oh... I
am aching. So I like the renovations taking place. I will unveil
the changes tomorrow.
I have
to go pick up my hot date...
