Tuesday June 1, 1999

There is only one reason my birthday should be an international holiday... I was born on the goddess of love's birthday.

I mean, if you were born on Marylin Monroe's birthday, wouldn't you feel fucking special?

So far this has been the best fucking , and I do mean fucking, birthday I have had to date. Part of that reason is someone special. I have never been told I have a Ninja pussy, and I take that as a severe compliment.

Ok... Ok... enough about my wonderful sex life. I know I don't want to bore (ha ha ha) anyone with the details.

Ok... people are starting to show up and I am being kidnaped and treated well by all my friends today...

Wednesday June 2, 1999

So... I am going to write about some funny things. I am sick of writing shit about being miserable, because I am not miserable, I have just been overwhelmed with life and death issues that it's hard to kick down a few gears so I am not so spastic about living. I need to quit worrying about what might happen in my life, that's no way to live and it's nice to live each day as it comes.

Oh, how my heart aches to be in Russia right now. I looked out at the 9 o'clock sky last night and thought and said "In Russia it would be around one a.m." It's the time of the White nights, in Russia now, so even in Moscow the days are a lot longer and the night is not like it is here. Here, in Kentucky, it's a little more even.

I have been on television 4 times in my life so far. The first time I was 15 and my mom somehow got wind of Channel 11 needing a family to discuss what it was like to be from a divorced family. I told Gary Rodemeier that it made me sad to see a dad and mom together with their children.

Then was on TV because of the controversy. That was so thrilling. Too bad it freaked me out so much or if I had played my cards right I could have been on MTV (they actually called me 2 summers ago the week before I left for Russia to interview me, but that fell through).

My favorite time was when I was in Moscow that same year and I asked a lady if i could take her photo in her costume. They figured out I was American and they asked me to come to a show. Little did I know I sitting next to the Conni Chung of Siberia. They made sure that I was going to watch the performance. I was so nasty from taking photos all day and I didn't know they wanted my reaction to the performance on video. As soon as they put that camera on me I forgot every fucking Russian word I knew. They got another girl that was Siberian to "translate" and she began to translate I said "no... that's not what I meant" and started speaking in broken Russian.

There's the mark of true arrogance. I amaze myself sometimes.

And the last time I was on TV was this past September when my plane touched down coming from Zurich. There were these camera people waiting for people to come off the Swiss Air and I just so happened to be one of those people.

"How did it feel to find out about the Swiss Air crash yesterday?"

""I'm glad it wasn't my plane!" I exclaimed.

What the fuck to say in those kinds of situations? "Oh, what a tragedy." Like, DUH!!! Why don't airplanes have parachutes? I don't think that is out of the realm of possibility. But then who would like flying if it weren't so dangerous?

I am sure everyone has little stories like this. The Siberian thing has to be my favorite story though. I felt so special.

Oh Wait!!! I forgot about how when I went to the Kazan Tip last summer and we went to this big "rave." I thought that people dressed basically the same around the world but I was dressed like an American Goth Raver with a corset on and my tits spilling of my dress. Some guy stopped to ask me how cool Kazan Tip was and I didn't understand his accent and asked him to speak slower and when he understood I was American he acted like his mind was blown at seeing someone from so far away at such a kick ass event. But I am Catherine Clay and funny that way.

He had a video camera and he was doing a documentary for school in Odessa. That was pretty fucking cool. I know the ones over here aired, but as for the rest, I have no clue who the people I was around were. I didn't get their names or anything.

So that's a cool Cathy Clay story.

Thursday June 3, 1999

I am back in Danville once again.

My mom had a tendency to fuck things up. I inherited this quality. I don't just half ass anything. If I fuck up, it has to be major and complex so there is no easy solution.

I fucked my keyboard up by cleaning it. I am not a trained professional in that respect so now I have to pay a pretty penny to have a new keyboard put on my G3 when all it needs is three keys because Apple can not replace just three keys... fuckers (next time it's all Linux for me, baby). But my keyboard had cat hair and all kinds of dust in it. The w key was stuck and when I saw why I was so grossed out. I guess that's what I get for using this thing all the time. I am going to be sad to see the space bar go because there is a patch worn out where my thumb has stroked it so many times.

So another fuck up happened yesterday. I was mad at myself for not getting here in time, I told Granny around 5 and it was 7. So to make up for my incompetence I "helped" her clean her chandelier. It is now hanging down and neither Granny nor I can figure out how in the hell I fucked it up.

One of Granny's favorite quotes is "If you ever want it destroyed, give it to Patsy (my mother) or Cathy." Now that saying doesn't always hold true. I kept my 1984 Chevrolet Citation II until last spring. That lasted me about 7 years.

But yesterday... I just had to give her a little reminder so she knew I was capable of still fucking things up beyond rhyme or reason. Maybe some liquid nails would help...

* * *

I start a free lance job on Monday in Chicago, making bank. It may be just for a week, maybe 3 but hopefully for a long time to come.

I'll be staying with Zack and Syndy and Colleen. I hope my enthusiasm doesn't get on their nerves...

YEA ME!!!!!!!!!!!! (thanks Dick and Syndy!!!!!!!! Sally's going to kick yer ass...)

Saturday June 5, 1999

Mmmm.... waking up in someone else's arms. Very aware as I moved through the night that he was holding me and as I moved I was careful to reposition myself so my skin was still tightly next to his.

I like him a lot. I have liked all my lovers for different reasons and I don't feel that once you are that intimate with someone else that those feelings necessarily dissipate.

But... nothing can beat the sensual touch of a sexual man whose desire is not just for himself but to please the woman he is with. "I bet a lot of people underestimate you..." he said today.

He also said he wouldn't read my diary anymore, but I am sure he still does, looking for some kind of validation through what words I write here versus what I say to his face. Maybe this means more to him, I don't know.

I am very emotionally needy but it takes a certain kind of man to see how and not everyone can be so intuitive, not just for their own needs but the needs of their lovers.

I do know that I like him and he has let some shitty things fly out of his cake hole that make me angry but I tell him immediately what I will and won't put up with. The sex is great, but it's not that important to me if a man feels he can control my sexuality. My sexuality, my sensuality belongs to me and me alone. If I choose to share that part of myself, then you are lucky. Sometimes it seeps out of my pores emanating from me as if I have no control over myself.

I like me that way...

Monday June 7, 1999
It's kind of nice thinking there IS someone special out there...

Damn, I am going to have to change my web page's name to "One Spoiled Rotten Opinionated Bitch." I've never really had a guy work at trying to keep me so happy. I could get really used to being spoiled.

He cooked for me on Friday night, and it was goooood. It's so "effortless" right now and I hope to god it stays that way. Mmmmm... he makes me feel really good and he is a cutie.

He also realizes that I know that if a chick wants a dick, it's all her and from where guys are so insecure about being rejected, they don't usually dive off the deep end for someone that rocks. Or they find someone that spoils them and they think they have some kind of control over her just because they are fucking (oh wait, that's just been my experience).

Well, girls, if you haven't realized it by now, if a guy is an asshole, he usually won't change and if you can define his character as such, than more power to you, sista. Men will and can learn to grow up to be responsible people, I have seen it happen on the rare occasion.

I think That It's Not A good thing to involve someone you are dating in ALL your emotional concerns because they aren't always going to back you up 100%. That's why you have friends. I also don't think your problems need to be theirs. People all have their problems but when you are in a relationship and you bitch about things you can control but you don't, then what's the point in bitching about it? Get off your dead ass and change yourself for the better because no one is going to sweep you off your feet and save you, Cinderella.

Man... being spoiled can really give me an attitude adjustment. To feel appreciated and loved and all that yummy stuff, I like the idea of feeling so good not just about myself, but someone else because honestly I am a sweet and bubbly person... bubbly like lava.

Wow... I start my job today. Dick isn't too sure I will enjoy myself as much as I am excited, but a) I get to work with him and b) man... I am just so happy to be working! Now I can feel like I earned the money and deserve to spoil myself rotten as well.

***

Two more hours of work left... God Damn this is the nicest job I have ever had. Dick is so fucking awesome. He doesn't expect me to have any deep knowledge of what I need to do and he is showing me everything I need to be doing in baby steps.

I wish everyday could be this great. I could get used to being treated well... free food like bagels and cereal. 25 cent cokes where you can tell this company isn't out to make a buck from it's employees. Many creative individuals. It's refreshing today, it's almost too great.

I'm basically doing what I have been doing for myself these past couple of months, learning more about images and such while implementing them on the web.

I am going to learn a lot over the next few weeks and that's always nice because I love to be challenged.

Wow... who knew life could be so swell.

Tuesday June 8, 1999

The network went down today so there wasn't a lot to do. I think they are going to hire Brandon by next week. I suggested him and I bet he gets hired for real before I do. Of coarse, he still doesn't know they want to interview him yet because he's not on-line.

Dick and I were driving down some street and saw a crowd of people waiting outside some club and then John Cusiak came out. That was cool. That was the first time he ever saw someone famous here.

It's strange coming here and having everything so calm and sedate while being so frantic at the same time.

And when you think about computer systems... it's a strange thing. I don't know if many people have an idea of how computer operations work, but they consist of layers upon layers upon layers, and if you can figure out how one piece of the system works, then you can be a system administrator. Sometimes you can meet special people that understand many of the underlying structures of operating systems and they are very strange people indeed. Andy is strange like that. He understands these kinds of systems. Sometimes when you meet someone that is a super computer geek they can't relate to people at all because there are too many uncontrollable factors where people are concerned.

I am a moderate geek. I force myself to have fun, but then today when I didn't have my e-mail at work I was spazzing. I don't like not being connected for long, so it's a good thing that I can get a job doing something I already enjoy that furthers my addiction to the Internet. Dick says I will burn out, I hope not, at least not too bad...

Wednesday June 9, 1999

"Your personal charisma is up. The emotional Moon is reinforcing the scintillating, exciting Sun. You'll find it easier to get people excited, to pull them along with your enthusiasm. Your humor and capacity to entertain others is more marked. A magnetic, attractive quality is likely. Being around you is fun." Yahoo hooroscopes.

Yep... that's me!!!

Last night I had a really wicked dream. I love vitamin B6 because one of the side effects is vivid dreams.

So last night... I was in Louisville with my car and I decided after Mom's body tissue was ok that I would leave. There was a scare and it was severe. I decided I couldn't take it anymore so I stole a truck and left Kentucky. I was so happy. I was driving through a forest on my way to Cincinnati and stopped at a place to go fishing. I love to fish, or I did when I was a girl. So in the bottom of the waterfall, which was kind of like Big Sur where Dick and Syndy and I were, there was a bear and her cub. She batted at my leg and all these Russians were laughing at me because she was their pet and they were sitting around at the porch. Well, she came up and got a hold of my throat and I can't remember what I did to get her off of me but I went running into the house and she was chasing after me. I closed the screen door and since she was a stupid bear and couldn't figure out how to open the screen door she really couldn't chase me any longer. Then... I jumped in my La Mans and drove away.

I got a letter from my buddy Gavin that was in Russia. I don't think that he is going back to Russia. I don't know the full story yet but I think it got really ugly there for him and he is now safely in Finland.

So, naturally the bear in my dream is representational of Russia. I imagine the flight from Louisville was all me, and I don't know why I was driving to Cincinnati...

I woke up a little scared and told Dick about my dream. I think it's funny how sometimes when you sleep with someone you consciouses run together and overlap into some weird psychological thing.

I miss sleeping with Kevy Joe. I like waking up with someone like him next to me. He's quite a character. It's just too bad he's so fucking old that he falls asleep before his bed time.

I think I annoyed Dick last night. I was working on a photo album for my grandmother for her birthday last night while we were watching a movie. I used to do that with Andy all the time and it would drive him crazy. I grew up doing my homework in front of the TV and I still made straight As. I can follow most things for a while but I lost the last part of the movie, so that made me a little sad. I need to learn to just sit and watch something but then I am always occupied by other things. I can not sit still very long unless it's in front of a computer and even then I have like 4 or 5 things that I am doing. ICQ, e-mail, Netscape, Photoshop, Word and whatever else is there to break my attention up for short periods of time. I go back and forth like a spaz trying to work on everything over and over, refining tweaking, writing until I can take it no longer and then I will go and eat or force myself to go do something so I don't feel like I have wasted the entire day. ~2013 This is a sort of ear mark for people with ACs. We can't calm our minds down enough just to sit still and listen like other people do. Overactive minds

Monday was awesome because it was Colleen, Syndy, Dick, Dave, Matt came later and me. We all sat around and talked about everything. It was nice to socialize, but I had to get up and ICQ after a while because I am still in a new situation and was not totally comfortable with my role or how I should reveal my personality to Dave since I work with him.

I have discovered that most people here accept me for the way I have presented myself so far and that is nice because I don't have to pretend to be someone I am not, but I can temper myself some so that people I know won't be comfortable with my freaky sense of humor.

Poor Syndy... she hasn't come out to her mom yet and she is going to do it this Sunday so she was talking about all the situations and how she was just like "Man... blah blah blah" and I looked at her and laughed really hard and said "you can have my mom." Colleen, Dick, Syndy and me all started laughing really hard even though we didn't want to because it puts it all back into perspective since my mom is dead.

I love saying those kinds of things at just that perfect moment so people laugh.

I must say that working for such a large company has it's advantages... I like looking at some men greedily with lust in my eyes, even if they are gay.

Thursday June 10, 1999

Danger Will Robinson, DANGER!!!!

I feel like I am crashing. I am overwhelmed with sadness because tomorrow is mom's birthday. I can't stand it. I feel like I am going to go stark raving mad into the street, or at the very least burst out in tears and humiliate myself in front of my co-workers.

I am extra sensitive today. I don't want to be. I am still trying to decide if I want to go home tomorrow. I woke up at 5:30 bringing dreams from my past into my consciousness once again. I am eating a Hershey bar and it's kind of warm already from being in the vending machine. When my mom was extra sad she would eat a Hershey bar, take a hot bath and crawl into bed.

I am hoping to get all this shit out now so I can be a productive worker today and get all the projects Dick gave me to do done today. That will impress him. He's not in a good mood today.

Today my horrorscope sucks. It's so true. Competing visions vie for your attention. Priorities are likely to clash with the emotional Moon and visionary Neptune clashing from the realms of long-range goals and dreams. You'll have to decide what is most important and put your energy behind that. Being pulled in different directions makes you less effective in each of them.

I am trying to decide if I should go back to Louisville tomorrow and be with Kevy Joe. I want to but... I don't know if it's such a good idea. I guess it doesn't really matter because they don't have any tickets back to Louisville on South West tomorrow evening anyway. But if he wanted to fly up here there are plenty of seats.

Sigh... I think I need to fall apart and be put back together again.

I quit eating meat on Sunday. It's amazing how much better I feel already. I know there are a ton of pesticides in vegetables, but they have a store up here call Whole Foods that sells organically grown food. But when I think about eating meat and all the shit that resides in the fat and muscles to make animals "beefier" than I think it's better not to eat that shit because then it resides in my fat and muscles. I got an e-mail the other day that claims one of the reasons women get breast cancer is because when you use anti-perspirant you clog your pores and there is no place for those toxins to go except for your lymph nodes. Part of me thinks it can be possible, but then again I have a lot of faith in the human body to excrete it's waste and find another place to dump those toxins.

I hate being so fucking emotional. I had so much fun last night at work. We went to the Artful Dodger, a weekly ritual, and I drank my first Black Martini, or a Cosmopolitan. It was yummy. I drank too much. I talked to loud. I socialized with a man named Frank from the company that just took over the company I am working for.

After that I went out to eat with 5 boys. I was in heaven. I was the only girl and since I am not a stupid bitch I kept everyone laughing. It was a lot of fun. I had an artichoke and was able to buy Dick the dinner I promised him Sunday night.

This isn't working very well... I am still sad. I feel more sad today than I have in a long time. More sad today than Mother's day. I wish I could sleep through tomorrow. Maybe I should go in the ladies room and cry. I don't think it will help much. I hate being sad like this. It makes yesterday seem so hazy and it was one of the best days I have had in a long time.

OK, full force ahead with one dead engine.

***

After a particularly hellish day of my emotions going up and down Dick took me away from work and we were able to talk. I don't want him to think he needs to babysit me but there is still the question of him doubting my abilities to finish a task. He's given me a lot of work to do this week and I am pleased with how I am progressing.

I still think he is afraid I won't live up to his expectations but I am living up to my own and that's just going to have to work for him because I have pretty high standards for myself.

I am getting paid to basically do what I want to do and something that is relatively cancer free. I am worried about my web page. I don't know why but I am just so scared something might happen and then I will quit updating it and let it lie in waste. I have seen many people have that happen to them when they start working in this industry, although I have to hand it to Jenny of Jenny 101, she still updates her page. I remember when you could actually get a personal response from her.

Kevy Joe is coming to see me this week end. I'm kind of excited about that. He has never been to Chicago and he wants to come service me.

I also talked with Granny today and asked her if she was sad about mom's birthday and it was like all of a sudden, she isn't so sad. Something, I don't know what perked her attention up and she has decided that she is still very alive. I got a new e-mail buddy this week that I really adore. Her name is Ang and we share many of the same philosophies about life... it's nice to know there are beautiful 18 year old women out there so confident and sure of themselves... she will enjoy her college time much more for that reason.

So... I am really happy about Granny. You just don't know what a relief that is to know that she has decided to come out of her mourning.

I wish I could be totally happy, Ang cheered me up and so did Granny and Kevy Joe coming up here makes me feel good too. Melissa finally getting fucking e-mail so I can write her everyday... god that makes me so happy after listening to her bitch about how she never wanted to learn a little over a year ago. (I teased her and told her Colin can show her how someday).

It's nice to be excited about life working out. I think I have made up my mind that this is the career I want to retire from. I can get used to being spoiled the way our company spoils their employees. Besides, Brandon is going to come up here and maybe even Ben.

I'm really happy for Brandon to get out of Louisville. He needed to find out how to be more grounded and deserves to be financially stable... securely, independently, happily financially stable in a company that spoils it's employees. How else do you get the best out of your employees if you don't compromise and make them all happy... or at least make coming to work more comfortable for everyone?

I think I am just stressed about getting hired on full time. I don't want to be really happy here and then be yanked away. Ahhh.... there's that fundamental fear of abandonment. I am so scared... I have to get over this shit. Real life is not what has happened in my personal life. It's a lot more stable. Nice being stable for a change, where the work is consistent and you know pretty much what to expect.

I feel a lot better.

Of coarse going to Baskin Robins with Dick for a hot fudge Sunday didn't hurt, either. I must be PMSing.

Friday June 11, 1999

YUMMY, YUMMY, YUMMY Mood... damn I am in such a good mood. I feel like my happiness is going to explode in bursts and hurt someone... it will, I just need to contain it until Kevy Joe gets here.

I don't know what he was thinking... like he's really going to get to see any of Chicago. I hope he enjoys the view as the taxi brings him here because I think that's about as much sight seeing as he is going to accomplish.

Dick is in a better mood today. I am relieved. I made him Biscuits and gravy this morning (without the Chicken fat where you just use flour and milk to make a roux. I like to add corn meal.) and that always makes him feel special. Too bad I now think he makes gravy better than me.

Sigh... I thought I would be totally fucked up, but work is coming along great and life is swell. Sometimes you just need to stop and put life in perspective.

I got my computer back today, with a new screen and a new keyboard. It works ten times better and the key stroke is awesome. Amazing how I dealt with it being fucked up for over three weeks. I am going to buy more memory for this bitch when I get a chance. I need to buy one for my Linux box. I am trying to figure out what to name that whore. Maybe Pauline, in the tradition of the old Madam of one of the most famous bordellos in history. It was located in Western Kentucky, in Bowling Green.

Or maybe this computer should be Pauline, since everyone has had a stroke.

Sigh... I am a very happy girl, even though my mom is dead and it's her birthday. She finally would have been twice as old as me. I was always so excited about that. I remember doing math problems when I was like in third grade thinking that one day, my mom will be twice as old as me. But she's dead.

Oh well. So much for thinking like a child. Now to think like an adult... mmmm.... Kevy Joe.

I am a very lucky girl.

***

Roman wrote me this... I thought I would share:

My dear! White nights here! It's so so beautiful all night long. I stay at work till late at night, but when I come out of my cell (I work at the ground floor without windows)at about 1 a.m. I at first can't understand what time it is. Then I walk down the Mohovaya street towards huge and gorgeous blue castle, which glows slightly in the white darkness. And till this time I forget all my problems already and turn right. Here it is - Chaikovskogo street. Another ten steps - look - that's the house the greatest composer lived! Another five - wow! - the oldest hotel in the city with supports at the entrance in a kind of half-women half-dragons. Sometimes I touch them and feel sorry for them - they can't move and bear all this weight in a silence. But at the same time they are so powerful that I sometimes charge some energy from them. Another 50 meters and I'm at home.Sleep - how can you sleep when it's a "day" outside! So I go out for another walk. Few passages... and there is a huge park called "summer park". There is a lot of statues all over. Greek Gods in different poses. And huge trees make a dark roof above your head and now you realize that it's a night time! Well, time to go home and switch your body off. And get prepared for the next day in St.Petersburg...

Kisses. Roman.

Monday June 14, 1999

Happy Birthday Granny!!!

This month is just littered with Birthdays! Granny is like, 76 now. That's pretty fucking cool.

This weekend was too much... in such a good way. It's hard to get back to working although I think laying in a jacuzzi and swimming would get old. We stayed at this sleazy hotel, the Palmer House (where Suzanne (Mitchell my photography professor) took this photo of all her students (I was jumping in the air... it was soooo cool!!)this photo behind me). It was nice just lounging around and walking on the street so close to the hotel to experience some kind of street festival where there were food from all around the world.

We held hands and shopped and enjoyed ourselves. He bought a new suit and I got 2 sweaters for $14, which made me very happy because it's a little more chilly up here and especially in the office.

It seems like this weekend may be a metaphor of our... relationship for lack of a better word. I am not so sure I am ready to commit to one person just yet... but I will say that being treated with respect and being spoiled is rather nice. No, really, it's that he is seducing me for a change and I can live much easier being the one being seduced instead of the seducer because I don't have to work so hard.

He realized what a mistake it was to talk about his relationships with his exs so freely when I decided I wanted to share one of my own experiences. Why is it so hard for people to understand that those are intimate aspects of your life that you did not share with the person you were with, so why make them feel insecure by sharing shit you had with some bitch (sorry, I wasn't the one fucking her and obviously it didn't work out so to me she is "some bitch")?

We had talks about being judgmental once again because he was talking with his ex about how he never thought he would be with someone that had had a number of partners. Well, that's not for anyone else to judge. I call myself a slut because this society has not accepted that women CAN ENJOY SEX without being emotionally committed to the person they are FUCKING. So what? Does it mean that I am less of a person because I enjoy my sexuality? I think it has made me a better lover, to be perfectly honest, and I don't regret anyone but that redneck that left me feeling like I had been sexually assaulted. But hey, I took that responsibility into my own hands and I live with it.

I think it's because men, to some extent, see women as property. Somehow by being with so many men, I am considered "damaged goods."

I think of this little bit, and he hadn't had sex in a while, and had I known this I don't think I would have had sex with him on my birthday. I know through my random sampling of lovers, men that haven't had sex in a while still have a number of hang-ups some bitch left them with so they are scared to express themselves sexually. Plus how fair is it to release the sexual tension a man can acquire over a period of time on to a new partner?

Sigh... why does it have to be so much work? I mean, things are relatively simple with him.

Tuesday June 15, 1999

As we walked through the wrought iron gate I could hear the tender melodies of a real piano playing. It was so beautiful I felt like jumping up to grab the notes.

It has been an amazingly beautiful day today.

I am still a vegetarian. The real reason I want to quit eating meat, besides that it makes you smell funny is that I have noticed guys taste better when they are vegetarians so I imagine that girls do too so I am all about tasting better and smelling good.

Mmmmm.... I am sleepy. I am making all kinds of observations and hopefully I will have some time this weekend to write them all down.

Wednesday June 16, 1999

I wrote this little story the other day when I knew I would be too busy to write anything worth merit... It just so happens I wrote it before we stayed at the Palmer House, which is where this story is set.

So... the thing I notice the most about people is that when they don't think anything is so especially great about themselves. Dick knows he is great, and is a conceited fuck and I just don't think he realizes just what makes him so great. I wish I didn't have to pump up his ego so much but what's a fag hag to do? It takes little of no effort on his part to be such a character either, it's just part of his personality except when he is being lame and insecure and that happens way too much..

But he takes care of me, even though he thinks he doesn't. He cares about me and how I am doing and all those good things. I don't know how to explain to him why he makes me feel so good, he just does, even when he's being bitchy.

I have been thinking about something lately, but I can't remember what I wanted to write about, so I suppose it wasn't all that important. No, it was like an appifany but now I have forgotten so I guess it goes back the the realm of the unrealized, never to be born into a full thought.

Ah... yes... The first time I was ever in Chicago was back in 1993. Weird that it was that long ago. Actually Dick was on that trip as well because we came up here for a SPE (Society of Photographic Educators) conference and his was the party room (at the Palmer house) because he hung out with all the "cool" people.

Anyways, it was an excuse to come here to Chicago to fuck around and it was the first time I left Kentucky by myself (without my family or my boyfriend), even though I was with a group. I was served alcohol without being carded and that was a thrill because I was still under age back then.

We went to a few lectures, one where this lady wouldn't shut the fuck up about her filing cabinets that her dad or mom gave her. I was so fucking bored but thinking back I can see the significance of those cabinets now that my own mother is dead, but I don't sit around and bore a bunch of people about cabinets that my mom gave me because my mom would never do something that dumb. My mom gave me and my sisters cocks.

I think it was 1997 when I got my first cock from my mother. It is a big cock, and I was kind of embarrassed of it's size since Cybil was stuck with the smaller version. I think Dawn received the biggest cock and she didn't even bother to give one to Granny. It is very bright and I like to take it out and look at it every once in a while. Sometimes I will even pick it up and hold it, caressing it's rigid structures. It's a strange cock, that's for sure, because it has this funky design and it's not cut evenly.

But man do I love my cock. I wouldn't trade it for all the money in the world. When my mom gave me my first cock, I was so happy that I have started to collect cocks from around the world. I bought Dawn, Cybil and myself a cock a piece when I was in Venice, but because they are made from blown glass they are so smooth and I am being selfish and holding onto all three. I mean, Dawn and Cybil don't know these cocks exist (until now) so why should I share at all?

Sometimes, I will put the smooth cock up against my face and just feel it's cool touch. I have even put the spiny tail in my mouth to feel the texture of the glass cock against my tongue.

When I was in Russia I found this lovely group of five cocks seated on a circle and when you swing the pendulum, the cocks all go down and peck the board to make the cutest clacking noise.

Then when Roman, Cybil and I went to Izmalov park in Moscow, I happened upon my favorite cock!!! There was a babushka sitting outside of the metro and she had all kinds of cock suckers laid out for anyone to buy. I bought two and scarffed my first cock sucker down greedily. It was yummy. The second was saved for Dick, but when I got to Chicago it was broken into pieces. What's a man to do with a broken cocksucker? It probably was not very tasty because the heat made it all hot, sticky and in other places runny.

Sigh... but the memory lives on and I love my little Russian cocks!

If anyone ever wanted to get me a present and make me so happy, all they would have to do is buy me a unique cock. Some people collect beenie babies, others cabbage patch kids (oh wait, that was when I was a girl) but I just go nuts for cocks. I can't keep my hands off of them because they are so cute.

Thursday June 17, 1999

I talked with Kevy Joe on the phone last night after ICQing got old. Maybe it's just Dick's keyboard that irritates me so much. I tried to turn on my computer just now and it wouldn't come on. I have had a lot of problems with this computer... I am not very happy about it.

But if that's the worst thing that can go wrong this week, I am very, very happy.

Actually, I am ecstatic anyways because as I was adding some of my favorite things I actually found Dan Simmons e-mail address and in a fit of childish enthusiasm wrote to him and told him what a fantastic, splendid, fabulous author he is.

I am finding that it's nice to be childish every once in a while.

Well, I wasn't really sure it was him... but it was!!! When I got his letter I just sat at my desk with the biggest grin on my face. Dick was at Sears all day so I didn't have anything to do and when I got his letter I just sat there in the greatest fucking mood for the rest of the day.

I know I have mentioned him before here. I haven't had the opportunity to sit and curl up next to a book in quite sometime but when I want to be scared, I will always grab one of his books. He's like Steven King on chemotherapy, and I have found maybe 1 or 2 holes in all of his books and stories that I have read when I read books by Steven King, there are several things I go "huh?" to. He doesn't just write horror, he also writes these amazingly vivid sci-fi books.

When I wrote to him, it was like this floodgate of my memory was released and all of a sudden I remembered the things I was doing as I read his books. I remember reading Carrion Comfort, but I wasn't sure if that was before or after I had brain surgery and the thought of mind vampires scared the living fuck out of me starting in Nazi Germany and when it was coupled with my own hyper awareness of other people's thoughts and feelings. When I read that book, I could imagine the danger someone can put themselves in if they aren't careful with their own thoughts and feelings. I knew I was kind of psychic before I read his book but when I was done it's like it was kicked up a couple of notches because I understood how to use it better and how not to hurt other people with it.

Sometimes, when I can look at someone and pick something off the top of their heads it disturbs me. That happened this past January when I was with Conni at the Brian Adams and Rolling Stones concert. We were sitting there and Conni's friend Judith asked Conni where she was the summer of '69 and I answered for her. All of a sudden I looked over at her and her jaw was dropped and I wanted to start crying because I knew something about her she didn't tell many people, including her best friend of over 10 years. I looked at her and almost started crying because I didn't mean to violate her thoughts... but when it's something right there and you want to let it go then it's not hard for someone like me to read your mind... and it's not something you can always do at will but there are ways to control it.

But as I've said earlier I feel like Conni was my energy from a previous life. Meeting her was like a reward before the storm, like "you know there is something special about you and you are going to have to go through hell to get it" or have been to have it so I got to meet my daughters and sons all stuck into one. That's what happens when you have multiple personalites. It's like all the reincarnated energy cycles into one little consciousness and filters through into a poor babe not knowing just which little soul it controls.

So if anything, that's probably the greatest gift he gave to me at 18. Learning that a) I am not a total freak and b) these things can be contained. In a way I can think of Carrion Comfort as a Bible to my own awareness. That book is over 1000 pages and I remember sitting in my room in the delapadated house of my childhood nightmares in my bed, when it was partially hidden in my closet and having one of those days that was just a reading marathon. I did not put that book down that Saturday until I got past the 700th page and could concentrate no longer. I miss having days like that. Where I could be totally absorbed in such a good story. His other books I have read in one to two days.

I read the Hollow Man in two days, trying to prolong the anticipation of the ending story because it was one of my first semesters of college and it was right after I had brain surgery and the story was so captivating. I have my personal reasons that I don't want to share about that book so don't want to enlighten you into any spoilers. You have to go and read it for yourself to find out what it means to you.

Anyways... I read a short story he wrote titled "Metastasis" about cancer aliens that would eat people in a book my mom picked up for me at the Book Barn because she knew I liked to read horror. I read it again and again and again, crying more and more each time because my mommy had cancer and the thought of saving her from that misery was so appealing. I don't know if I read that story before I had brain surgery or not... I think it was after and I had already learned my lesson to wishing it was me instead of her.

It's funny how the power of the mind can do little fucked up things to you like that. I wished I was sick instead of my mother, so did my grandmother and so did my little sister. It wasn't until much later that I said something to them about it. Granny had an aneurysm, I had brain surgery and my little sister got leukemia.

It really makes the saying, "Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it" all the more creepy.

Ok... I feel pretty naked now... I guess that's because I am. I need to get dressed for success and get on my way to work. They are interviewing Brandon today!

***

It's midnight and we just got home a little while ago. Dick, Stephen and I went downtown to see the cows.

Apparently some people thought it was necessary to decorate a bunch of cows and set them free on the streets of Chicago. My favorite is decorated like a big Disco ball.

Today has actually been a really good day. I was reminded why Dick is one of my truest and bestest friends in the whole wide world. He cares so much about me but he doesn't like to show that he's very proud of me sometimes. I know I am not the easiest person to always get along with and working with him, me getting used to being his helper and he getting used to showing me the ropes has been difficult on the both of us. It's hard to draw the line between what is personal and what is professional but I have been doing my work swiftly and efficiently but when there is nothing else to do you know what I'm doing! That's right, writing!

Today was a good day. I got to eat lunch with Brandon and Mitch and just bitch and bitch and bitch.

I don't think they are going to hire me at this company because I don't feel like my boss particularly cares for me too much. She didn't keep her appointments with me last week and I didn't know I was being officially interviewed until today when she told me she was doing other interviews. You know, that's great. I hope they find the right person for the job because it seems that some of the attitudes expressed by other people concerns me in that I don't think this is the healthiest work environment to start in. I would like to work in a place where I am allowed to flourish and succeed, not fear the wrath of Stalin... (weird... I just heard two people walking by speaking Russian. I guess that's what I get for living in the Ukrainian Village.)

Plus Tanya can get me a job at Cisco. Hmmm... testosterone valley... Chicago.... testosterone valley... Chicago. Well I am stumped. Would I rather work in Chicago where women are a dime a dozen or out in testosterone valley where there are like one woman for every three guys.

I still can't help but look at beautiful m... people.

Anyways... so I got out of work early and that's when Dick took that photo.

Friday June 18, 1999

My God my brain fucking hurts!

I have been working so hard today it's not even funny. I have learned so many new things today that it's kind of hard for me to put it all in perspective... My head is hot.~2013 This was what I was coming home with, I couldn't sit in a seat all day and fake work like everybody else, I couldn't be fucking phoney as hell and with the way my mouth was by the end of the week I was so crazy I couldn't see straight. This was what kept happening again and again and I could never understand what was wrong with me when it was my silent disability

I am very proud of myself today. I have kept really busy and Dick and me are getting along so perfectly. He's the greatest teacher. He is calm and gentle and when I don't get something he keeps going over it until it gets through this thick skull of mine.

It's a major accomplishment for me to succeed like this because even though I don't always like to admit it, I am handicapped. I do have some problems thinking and right now my head hurts like hell from thinking so much today, but I am so fucking happy I can work. The things some people take for granted can take me extra long every once in a while. Then there are some things that people can't conceptualize that I am right there for.

It's really six and a half one to a dozen another.

We are going to some museum tonight around ten and there will be a Bar-B-Que tonight at Dick and Syndy's. I am going to have to go home and take a nap. God I am in such a yummy mood!

Saturday June 19, 1999

I fell like I can write a marathon today.

So many many wonderful things to write about and so little time. I think I will make Saturdays my catch up days. Maybe Sundays since I hate them so much still.

I love being around lesbians. I know I am straight and they know I am as well, but there is just a certain comfort I feel around them where it's ok to be myself. Last night I met some of Syndy's friends and they were a couple that has been together for 14 years! 14 YEARS! Most of the lesbians I knew in Kentucky were highly unstable and couldn't keep a relationship going for 14 minutes.

So, it was just amazing how awesome they both were. Their names are Bev and Sandra . Bev told the funniest fucking story about how when she was growing up she would come home from school and her mom would make her these mayo sandwiches. As she would eat them, her mother would read to her about sex. This woman is now a top executive at a sperm bank. OK Ok... I can't write about where she is from or anything like that but I am referencing it for myself and acknowledging them as well because they were so fucking cool.

So when I was thinking about it... I wondered how we find out about sex how it affects us in which professions we choose. I mean, do most of the people that learn about sex from school and school alone, are they the teachers and government officials? Bev was talking about how she didn't have much of a chest and I am very jealous. I have always been somewhat intimidated to show off my body, believe it or not, because before I was in middle school my sister Dawn and her friends (this was before I had boobs) would sit and complain about this science teacher, Mr. Lewis, who once blocked Mary Ann (one of Dawn's best friends to this day) up against the lockers because her tits were so big and he wanted to stare at them. This horrible image lives with me to this day. So when I was in middle school I would be so relieved when I found out that I didn't have this creep as my science teacher.

Then I got my schedule for seventh grade. I kept reading over and over the teacher I was assigned. I couldn't believe it. Here I had these little suns on my chest from where it seemed I woke up one day and all of a sudden I had tits. The angry red rays of light that came from my nipples were such an embarrassment to me because I didn't want these things. I was a Tom Boy and how could I pop wheelies anymore or swim like a fish or do anything?

I hated my body so much for betraying me. I hated it even more because I had a pervert (my mother defined one as, "a panty sniffer.") for a science teacher who was going to back me up against the locker doors and look down at my chest. I lived with my dad and he didn't make this awkward transition ANY easier for me either. I dreaded everyday going to that class. I sat in the very back and became painfully shy. I did not want to be near this man. I remember him all built and not much taller than me and just exuding his sexuality to all the girls. It was so disgusting. I sat next to a chick named Dana and she was already starting to fuck around. I was so grossed out.

That was also the year I came home one weekend and asked my mom what a blow job was. She flipped. My mom did not deal well with our burgeoning sexualities, which makes me sad to this day. The chick that gave a blow job to the class jock never got over her bad reputation and she is even a little nuts today.

Whenever I see Jenn, we talk about things like this. About how different we were back then and how much we have changed. Although Jenn was more socially accepted, we still shared some of the same experiences. I think it's funny that it took us until college to realize that we were so much alike, or to respect each others differences.

I could have switched sciences, but the other teacher was a lesbian, and there was such a disgrace put on that that I ended up fucking myself over because I could have learned more from her. This is one of those situations where I look back now and I realize I had more control over my life then I ever imagined and that kind of prejudism towards someone's sexual orientation can be more damaging than beneficial. (Besides, I was already a little fag hag by this point).

When I went to Ian's graduation party a few weeks ago, my middle school counselor was there and he asked about all three of us and I told him all about what had been happening in our lives since I had last seen him. Anyways, I asked him if this was natural... when parents divorce and that if kids are a problem when they are that age, if they remain to be a menace to society... I think we both came to the conclusion that they do remain to be problems as long as they live.

So... Bev started talking about how they had this teacher in high school they called the pelvic thrust and that's what made me think of Mr. Lewis and why I was so weirded out about becoming a woman. I was rather old when I started my period too... over 13. Most girls were talking about it when they were 11. I finally figured out that that's why women know how to talk to one another so well because we always talk about how our bodies work.

So... we went to the Summer Solstice Selebration last night at the Museum of Contemporary Art... When I walk through the galleries and KNOW my work is better then some of the shit they have hanging up there, then I get all giddy and happy like a girl because I can envision MY work hanging in some of these galleries some day. That makes me oh so very happy.

Colleen had to get some gas and so when we got out I wanted a fucking Blue Powerade, because that is my favorite drink in the entire world and I have not seen one fucking bottle of it in Chicago since I got here. Anyways... this station had it!!!! I was so happy I bought 2 even though they were really expensive at 1.30 (at home they are only 99 cents). I got up to the counter and this asshole said to me "that must have been some good weed."

I got so pissed off because... what an asshole. Maybe I just wanted 2 fucking Powerades and some fucking Junior mints because I was PMSing. (I got my period this morning!!!) I looked over at this prick and said "No... I haven't had any of this drink since I got to Chicago and I am excited so I want on now and one later."

"Oh really, where are you from?"

"Kentucky."

Smarmy asshole "what are you doing here?"

I'm jacking off, you stupid bastard... but I thought I was too much for myself so I had to come in here and get some fucking blue Powerade so I could share my loveliness with the world. "I'm a web designer."

"Oh... that's a good profession to get into."

Me being a rancid cunt "What do YOU do?" besides harassing a bunch of people minding their own fucking business buying some blue fucking Powerade?

"I'm a cop and I am doing security." I look down and notice his gun. Usually I notice such things, but I was kind of in my own little world... chocolate, Powerade, and great company. What did this prick want me to say to him?

What a fucking jerk.

So we show up to the MCA... and I felt WAY under dressed. I just wore jeans and one of Syndy's sweaters. I had on a baseball cap and no makeup. There were people everywhere. I have never seen so many "cool" people in one place and they all smelled so good. I only smelled one person the entire time I was out and that's when I say "THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME... THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME!!!" In Europe you smell lots of BO. It's gross after so many people start smelling like dead rats.

There was a lot of performance art going on around me. I liked it when I first got there, but after going through the exhibits and seeing some of the work, trying to be very accepting, I decided that I wasn't turned on by much of it. I mean the Lorena Simpson's and some of the other photographer's work was amazing.

But what sent me over the edge was this piece by Charles Ray where he made these sculptures of naked men. There was one free standing one and when Bev was looking at it she was like "That just makes me sick."

"Me too." Because I think that he did a horrible job of objectifying a man especially with that funky colored penis. Then he did this sculpture where he was giving himself pleasure, there were like 8 of him and he was doing things to himself that were just beyond me and my cracker white girl way of thinking. It made me wonder how lonely and egotistical you have to be in order to make an exhibit where you are over half of the featured art works.

I am sure this is funny because you are here, reading my diary and about my life and whatever, but this is a private forum. In public... my work stands alone and a separate part of me... I have enough vision to see things outside of my own little sphere.

I did worry at one point that I was talking too much and telling too many bullshit stories about being in Russia and in Europe but I kept people captivated and laughing. I feel better about myself more and more when I am able to share some of those stories and they put other people in a good mood. When I am in a good mood and can talk with one another, I'm able to keep everyone around us captivated.

So... I don't see that things have changed so much in the past 100 years. People still call on one another, friends. I just spent the most delightful afternoon with a distant Clay cousin, his name is Barkley, and it's nice to talk to someone else that is a member of that family that wasn't necessarily meant to fit in. It's like his mother would be in the place where I am and as I look at him and talk to him, I can only hope that my sons and daughters as as beautiful as he is...

We talked about everything from starting a business together to his mom deciding not to do chemo. I cried a lot for him. Thinking about how Cancer really fucks with your head. We talked about his wife and his new scooter. It was a very nice visit that reminded me of the way that men used to call upon a lady although he was coming not to see me, in particular, I was just an added bonus since everyone else was gone and we could shoot the shit about all kinds of things.

I don't know if you have ever noticed it or not.. but I never smile where you can see my front teeth in any of my photos. That's because when they did brain surgery they went through the roof of my mouth and up through my sinuses. I didn't feel my upper lip for 6 months and it wasn't until much later did I even pull my lip off of my face to see how I had been left deformed. On the outside I was more attractive in some ways. My lip was much more pouty than it ever had been but then my nose also was stretched out. It's the same nose, don't get me wrong, it's just not my nose like before I had brain surgery. I used to think everyone could see how I was deformed, but that just wasn't the case. I had a guy sign my guestbook the other day and he wrote to me about how his eye started to sink in and that's how they found his arachnoid cyst. When I think about that I know I am not truly deformed, but I can't help feeling to a certain degree that since I don't look like I did before I had brain surgery that I don't feel as attractive. I can't smile and show my teeth because I look very strange because my lip doesn't curl up like it's suppose to.

Sometimes I stare at other girls lips and wonder how much they can take a little piece of skin for granted because they have such pretty smiles to me. I search for smiles that would have been more like my own if I had never had brain surgery. I wonder sometimes if there was even an option for me not to have it... could I have continued to live any kind of life? ~2013 When we found my AC it was 4.5x 3.5x 2.2 CM big, about the size of a plum and was shrunk down to the size of a Chilian grape, 2x2x2. I couldn't think anymore. I wasn't making good decisions, as a matter of fact my mother used to say "You have this grey area of your thinking" (too bad she didn't know about the 50 Shades of Grey) to sometimes make me feel like I didn't always know how to think properly but I am convinced, now, had I not had that surgery there would have been NO WAY I could have even made it this far in life.

I know that of all the people I have met there are varying degrees of people in the brain surgery community, we are such a diverse bunch, and I know I am lucky that I have had the privilege to graduate from college. I am very lucky to have a fully functioning brain and I try to utilize it to it's fullest extent.

I need to quit talking about it because thinking about it makes me more away of the pain I am in that never leaves me. I think I have excellent coping skills when it comes to pain, but last weekend I somehow got this really nasty bruise on my arm and I don't know how it got there. Kevin and I thought it may have happened when we were goofing off and I feel off the bed but it's a really good one and it would have taken longer then a few minutes to surface. When someone pointed it out in front of everyone Dick had to take credit for it because "she was sassing me." I assured everyone that I don't know how in the hell I got it and Kevin did not give it to me. It's ugly and purple now... Bev and Sandra asked me about it last night.

Kevin seems harmless enough. I think I could kick his ass. I don't think I like being with a guy that I feel like can overpower me too easily although I have dated a big beefy guy or two. Kevin's a good height. He'd like to think he was oh so much taller than me but when I put on a pair of heels, I can get up there close to him. I prefer guys that I can stand next to in heels and not tower over them. In Russia, it's the opposite way. Women like to wear heels so high they could fall and break their necks.

Sunday June 20, 1999

I have gone downtown every day since Thursday. I bought a bunch of bras today. I don't know who finally told them that chick with big tits like to have pretty bras and not ugly granny ones.

I feel like my tits look a thousand times bigger in my most expensive bra to date. We went to Bloomingdale's and I wanted a new nice bra dammit. The ones I bought just 6 or however many months ago are already stretched out and very uncomfortable. I never noticed how I go through bras like some people go through socks.

I looked at one of my bras from last summer the other day. Every tiny piece of elastic that could break from holding up my chest snapped in half leaving elastic limbs poking through the material that once housed it so snugly.

So I paid $50 for one bra. It's a Wacoal body suede. It's got a thin layer of foam padding in it and it makes them look more stream lined. I'm really happy with that bra. I also got an Olga and Bali.

Sigh... I miss my mom.

I called Jenn today out in California. She's such a sweetie. I love her so much. Her dad died 6 years ago so I just wanted her to know that I was thinking about her today. We talked and talked and talked some more. I told her how I remembered how she once told me that she and her mother came to Chicago to go shopping and I think she was surprised I remembered that.

But that was nice... and I talked with Kevy Joe. Kevy Joe's from Buffalo. It's funny to think that he works in such a "respected" profession and I can make more money than him. I tell you, if you are in college and you aren't considering a major in the computer industry, it would be really hard to make any money for what kind of work this business requires. It's fun, it's challenging and it's very safe emotionally and you don't have to worry about many other people's problems. You go home, the work doesn't haunt you and most of the people around you are pretty neat. I love that about being in an industry as it's just taking off. You forge new territories and go to places only your heart can imagine. I can watch a sunset in Bali if I wish or the snow fall at the border between Finland and Russia.

It's neat for me to look at my tracker and see where all the different people that come to my page... where they are from. It's strange in a way to think that there are really people out there that come check out what I am about and they live in Utrecht, Australia, Trinidad, I just picked up Bolivia, Qatar, Bahrain (where the hell is Bahrain?)... when I think about this, it blows my mind... like that one guy in that movie Scanners.

I went to the Ukrainian church today like I said I would. Sad to report there were just a bunch of babushkas and some pretty run of the mill immigrants that were just there to share in the body of Christ. Lots of standing up and sitting down. I sat there for the longest time just in my own thoughts at the different views of religion. It's sad that we can't agree that there is something all inside of us that makes us spiritually different from one another. Some people need the structure of religion in order to prove to other people that they feel connected to this entity that they think only they can be connected to because they believe a certain way. It's all the same thing we feel, but some of us are just more free to express our own spirituality than that which is dictated by the church.

I think a church used to be a decent kind of place, but it seems like many people are lacking in spirituality, especially some that attend church on a regular basis. I just don't feel that such ways or life are necessary. That feeling, that spirituality exists in us all, it's just depends how willing you are to tap into it and do the right thing and live your life in a proper manner.

Then I thought about how if I don't feel something in my heart so much, then it really didn't mean that much to me. The men that I have been with that haven't tried to put a piece of themselves in my heart I have let go and since I didn't feel close to them, then it was just sex. The ones I have loved... I am sure they will always live in my heart but the ones that ensure their place in my heart... those are the ones that are really hard for me to deal with because I am not the one that has to do all the work in the relationship.

I told Jenny how Kevy Joe lost his dad a few years ago and she said "Well, that gives him a whole different dimension." Every time I ask him about it he acts like it didn't bother him so much... I don't know if you have ever noticed it or not.. but I never smile where you can see my front teeth in any of my photos. That's because when they did brain surgery they went through the roof of my mouth and up through my sinuses. I didn't feel my upper lip for 6 months and it wasn't until much later did I even pull my lip off of my face to see how I had been left deformed. On the outside I was more attractive in some ways. My lip was much more pouty than it ever had been but then my nose also was stretched out. It's the same nose, don't get me wrong, it's just not my nose like before I had brain surgery. I used to think everyone could see how I was deformed, but that just wasn't the case. I had a guy sign my guestbook the other day and he wrote to me about how his eye started to sink in and that's how they found his arachnoid cyst. When I think about that I know I am not truly deformed, but I can't help feeling to a certain degree that since I don't look like I did before I had brain surgery that I don't feel as attractive. I can't smile and show my teeth because I look very strange because my lip doesn't curl up like it's suppose to. Sometimes I stare at other girls lips and wonder how much they can take a little piece of skin for granted because they have such pretty smiles to me. I search for smiles that would have been more like my own if I had never had brain surgery. I wonder sometimes if there was even an option for me not to have it... could I have continued to live any kind of life? but I know that is bullshit. He's just being macho and trying not to think about the loss in his heart which in turn makes him a much better person, more caring and I must say I really like that about him although he still says some stupid things like, "Why don't you ever wear make-up for me?" and then the next weekend I am wearing makeup for him and looking all hot and juicy and then we went back to the hotel and he said to me in the pool, "Ewww... that mascara is all nasty in your eyes." Well, he probably didn't say it that severely so that tells me I need to listen to how I interpret some of the things he says.

He does say many wonderful things, like he tells me sweet things like what it's like to be inside of me and how it makes him feel and things he would like to do to me and well, you know, that's kind of nice for a change.

So... the church was beautiful. The smell of incense pervaded my senses to new heights. I only understood the ending of the services and how the father or whatever he is called in Russian Orthodox, said he was happy to see new faces and he hopes we come back again next week. That was kind of strange and altogether pleasant at the same time because that is one thing all preachers and priests and father's and whoever else I am leaving out can always agree on.

I thought about calling my dad today and telling him that I forgive him for mistreating me as a child, but that he is the one that is going to have to work on mending this relationship with me and not me alone, but... I decided that maybe it would just be a lot easier to let all of that go... any hope that he will ever be a daddy to me and any kind of relationship that just can never exist. I was not an ex-girlfriend, I was half of him and if he wishes to throw me away I have found there are plenty of other people that can care about me in ways he could never understand. I no longer need protection from myself and the beautiful woman I have become. Freedom is only a dangerous thing when you realize your limitations are societally imposed and executed and if you have nothing to lose any longer, then what is left to be held scared but your very tender heart? My heart is not so tender anymore.

I feel like I have let a lot of things about myself that I didn't accept so easily in the past but I have learned to let them go. For this I am more healthy than I have ever been in my entire adult life. I feel so good about myself, so confident and full of life. I hope to god I never feel much less than how I feel today because life is wonderful, and I got a $50 bra from Bloomingdale's and had an Egg Salad sandwich at Johnny Rockets with just Dick and Syndy today!

Monday June 21, 1999 Happy Birthday Ian!!!

I can't believe he is 18 already. I know I helped raise him and to see him and know that he is a wonderful person only makes me more confident that I am not the monster my father is.

However, I do feel like a weeping gash today.

Part of that is because I didn't get enough sleep last night and Kevin kept wanting me to tell him how I felt about him. If I feel the same way about him that he feels about me and what can I tell him?

He's got the keys to my apartment and he's using my car until I get home. He was talking about going through my stuff last night and although I wouldn't like that very much, there is nothing there that I don't want him to see except for that one video I made with James. And it's not that outrageous. I just don't think he wants to think of other men giving me similar pleasure that he does.

Well, he's different in that he pleases me very much, but he says stupid things, we all do. "I don't want to pressure you..."

BUT... tell me how you feel. No. My feelings belong to me and me alone. There are some things I don't want to share because it's just my fucking business. There are things that I don't want him to understand or I don't want to understand them myself so I just let them sit on the top shelf of my brain and allow them to collect dust. Those are things that I don't feel I am ready to explore myself so I don't feel like he has a right to come and tear down any carefully constructed doors I have up.

I am not locking him out of my heart, I just have double steel enforced doors and maybe I don't know how to unlock them.

I wish he could just be content in knowing that I care about him and that he can't really expect much of me other than what I am already giving him. I am starting to feel like I am backed into a corner and if he keeps poking me to make me tell him what I am not ready to say, then I will run away. Fight or flight, baby... and I decided a while ago when mom died which battles to fight and which ones to just leave unresolved.

Sometimes, there are unresolved things and you just leave them there. There is no solution, there is no easy way around a complicated mess so you just have to look at it and study it and figure out which board or which piece is easy to clean up first. I have no idea how to make any sense of the life I have lead so far, that's why I write this thing.

Some pretentious fuck tried to tell me that he understood me and I said "Wonderful... now that you understand me better (than I understand myself) why don't you explain myself to me?" I would really like to know her.

~2013 Easter Egg OK Kevin, I feel closer to you than anyone I have ever dated, fucked or kissed, but that still doesn't mean I am ready for a relationship nor does it mean that I am going to give you the "leverage" or whatever. You have taken the time to put yourself in my heart and I don't really have much of a say so because I am a caring woman and I don't want to ruin this little thing we have going because for once in my life I feel like I am falling in love and I don't want to quit falling.

Tuesday June 22, 1999

I hope you are having the best longest day of this century!

So Cybil and I have worked on some of our differences. I think she finally understands that life is nicer when you have someone that cares about you in your family.

You know, it doesn't really bother me about my dad being a fucking pig. I finally thought of a piece of work I can do that amplifies the abuse he did. I thought of a piece where if I can even find a photo of me when I was 8 I can write "I am a liar, I am a pig and I will clean up after myself." (Like he made me write when I was 8) Then I can try to find a photo of my dad when I was 8 too and write "I am stupid, I am a fuck up, and I treat my own kids like shit."

Usually I could care less how my dad abused me. I could deal with it, but when ever he has been particularly malicious to Cybil, I get worked up and angry because nobody fucks with my sister (but me).

She wrote me this:

I called dad on father's day to wish him well. And to see if he could call Tafel about their Volvo's. Hey dad can you help me, translated into dad will you buy me. He bit my head off and said he would not pay for it. SO Fuck him.

This man is now 54 and so fucking stupid that he reads way too much into everything. I am just happy that I can listen and learn from his immature ways. He's a fucking millionaire and wont pay for his children's college educations when his daddy sent him to Baylor and paid for him to get kicked out of Center college on 3 different occasions. It's not that he won't pay for my college that pisses me off, it's that he told me he would do it. -->

I don't know why successful men have to be like this, maybe some of them don't, but for some reason my father finds it necessary to treat his own children worse than the scummy clients he represents.

Kevy Joe and I got into it last night about some serious issues. I told him that I am not fucked up like this society in thinking that you have to mix sex and love. I know the difference between the two and I do not confuse the two. Sex is sex. You can have sex with anyone and sure it's nice to care or even feel something for the person you are fucking, it's not necessary. It's some bullshit socitial thing invented to keep disease down or what have you. Actually it was invented so that men knew that their children really came from them but thanks to DNA testing, you can fuck whoever you want and if you get pregos, then you can find out who the dad is with just the stick of a needle.

Love, on the other hand, has nothing to do with sex. Do you think about fucking your mother every time you tell her you love her? I think this is where a lot of people get confused. If you have an affection for a certain person, and they have one for you, one where you can feel loved, that doesn't mean you have to pervert it in any way, shape or form by forcing yourself onto them. You don't need to fuck everyone you love, especially if this other person can love you and that relationship can grow (although that is the idealized relationship we should all be hoping for). I am loved by a number of people. I love Dick. I would have his baby. I wouldn't fuck him though. There are some things I just choose not to know about some people I love.

You do not want to fuck up the relationships from people that are suppose to trust you as long as they live, like my father has done. And I don't have to be a better person than him by showing him I still think about him. Fuck him and his fucking Porsche he drove in on. If it were up to him I think he would prefer if I had been a fucking loser where no one listened to what I had to say because I was my mother's child but the logistical problem he didn't think of was that I still have that Clay blood running though my veins where even though he is a racist (how the fuck did that happen?) mysogynistic fuck I can be a caring, international babe of wonder and only because his horridness is so fucking reprehensible can I feel justified in that when I care, I really do care. I don't have to hide my emotions and if someone is stupid enough to think they can hurt me with something stupid they say (I know I know... I am still working on feeling this one in my heart) then they aren't worth wasting my time on. Actually, that is something I have been quite keen on... if people are insistent on hurting me with something that they think they somehow have power over me, they are sorely mistaken when they don't get the response they want. I don't play such vicious games because I have learned from the best and when you are born into that dynamic...

I have learned that if you reveal something about yourself to someone you think you might care about, something that really doesn't hurt but something that the other person thinks they can hurt you with and they in turn use that information against you, then really, what kind of person is that? I am sure that I do it to a certain extent. Kevin has told me some things without really thinking about it and it bothered me and instead of just letting it go I will nag him with it because I know it bothers him. It all goes back into the thing where you should really think before you speak.

So I have discovered that if I say a little something and someone doesn't use it against me then I can trust them with something a little more and a little more and that person becomes much more vital to me because I know they won't use any of the info they have on me against me, and I feel massively more comfortable around them.

So... last night was a cool fucking night. One where I felt like I actually belong up here. I was with other people about my age, and we, for the most part, are all in the web industry. It's sad, but it's like a little club. The misfits, the freaks, we have all found our little niches here.

Barkley and Cindy, Kevin and Coco, Syndy and Colleen, me and Dick... I feel like I am forgetting someone but I don't think I am. Barkley and I speculated more and more about how we are related. We have narrowed it down to a tight prospective. My grandfather and his were either brothers or cousins, which doesn't really matter if they were brother or cousins because we are all inbreed anyway.

This amuses me and makes me laugh to no end. I also come from the white trash section of Clays, who are more related to Cassius (first ambassador to Russia) then Henry (Secretary of State).

It's kind of like lesbians making the distinction between being a "real" lesbian (never having been with a man) versus chicks that are bi (women that have had sex with a man at least once in their lives).

Who the fuck even cares? Most of that is shit. Kevin thinks I think too much of myself sometimes, but just because I know my family history to a certain degree doesn't mean that I like it.

I like being educated about anything I decide to take on. I don't put judgments on them really unless I feel uncomfortable and from the way the Clay's have treated me, I think they are a despicably bunch who I feel I will never really mean anything to me. The history is cool though. I guess what it boils down to is that you have this pot that is empty, if you choose to put shit into it and put it on the stove to simmer, you aren't going to come back to a 7 course dinner, it's still shit!

Just thinking of the way my father is makes me feel like maybe, just maybe I am infinitely better off without him. I know I am trying to be a better person and all, but every once in a while I need a reminder about why it is I choose not to have anything to do with that man. I can put him down too, not just because it makes me feel better, but so I can realize how far I have come.

Wednesday June 23, 1999

Dick did something that totally took me off guard. I love it when he says things that force me to quit thinking with my head up my ass. He asked me what I wanted to do... and although I want to go to Lithuania and review restaurants and hotels maybe I should be thinking about working and building a career.

I don't know... we have conflicting ideals about life, but that's because I don't want to spend my entire life at a company and always think about that. I think it's a lot of investment and if you aren't appreciated, then what's the point? He keeps telling me I need to wait to go to Grad school until I know what I want but I didn't know what I wanted when I went to college the first time.

The more I sit here and think about what is involved to work in a big company the more I think "Damn Cathy... all you have to do is one porn video and put it on your site and make a ton of money off of that and retire by 30."

But then Dick and I got into this discussion about porn the other day. Steven doesn't really care for it and thinks it's wrong. I used to feel that way and then all of a sudden I am taking naked photos of whoever would let me take them. I got over that real quick and I don't care to be called a pornographer. Although I am not sure I am ready to take any hard core photos. I think taking photos of someone with their fist inside someone else is a little too much for me.

But Dick hit on a fundamental flaw of mine. I am not focused. I am happy doing just about anything, but I am happier when I can pay my credit cards and all that other fun stuff.

Part of me things about doing something different because today Carolyn is supposed to make a decision about who she is going to hire. I don't want to worry so much about whether or not I get a job here. I would be ecstatic if I worked here, but if I don't I don't want to be crestfallen.

And it's not like there aren't 50 million other places I can work.

I would like to work with Dick though, because he can teach me a lot. He would make a great professor. I guess that's why he got his MFA.

OK... I am going to lunch.

Thursday June 24, 1999

So now I have even more options where to work. They have a place in Tallinn where I can go and travel and write reviews and just travel throughout the former USSR and then a really big corporation was really happy to get my resume. I am excited about all the possibilities in my life right now.

I could stay in Chicago, go overseas or San Francisco. I am sure there are like 50 million other possibilities as well and the one great thing about my job here is that I have learned that when management doesn't have their shit together there is someone else over the horizon who does and they want you more.

I'm not going to hold my breath, because I don't want to ruin any chances I might have but in the same token it's nice to think that all my education and experience will get me somewhere. I have to thank Dick a lot for getting me up here to help at this company because it has opened some doors.

I am exhausted. Emotionally and physically. I feel like I should take a week for myself and just do nothing at all. Go sit by the lake and read.

Dick said something the other day that made me laugh... I was telling a group of people how hard it was to be in Russia and that the other girl I was there with the first time I went decided to go home after 2 weeks of living in a shit hole dorm (if you ever study overseas I highly advise living with a family, but Jacinta's experience was different) and she just couldn't deal with Moscow as a city. Here I was, with a broken leg, being the good girl and going to school (that changed really fast when I met Vlad... I was 3 hours late to my Russian final because I was writing all the words to gangster's paradise down for him) and taking photos of whatever struck my fancy. It wasn't so horrible for me because I could keep going on with my broken leg. I thought about going home half way through, because it was so hard, but my mom soothed my soul and told me it wasn't much longer. Russia definitely has a way of humbling any foreigner.

I think one of the reasons I didn't want to have my leg fixed was because I have heard so many rumors about how horrid the health care was... then I went to the hospital to see Lena's babushka and that hospital was the most frightening thing I have ever seen. Like 8 or 9 people in a room and the steralization... what a modern concept.

I think the thing that scared me the most was the memory of breaking my leg in my ankle when I was in fifth grade and I had to wear a cast up to my hip. I can remember once or twice thinking how impossible it would be to navigate Moscow wearing a cast and that made it a lot easier for me to just not even think about it and go on.

Friday June 25, 1999

"Granny... would you be mad at me if I got a job at... Playboy?"

That's been one of the hardest calls I have ever had to make. "As long as you aren't posing."

I'm so excited because if I can get a job at Playboy, one like I envision, then I will just be ecstatic. Just like Bev learned about sex from her mother reading to her as she ate mayo sandwiches as a child, I hope that I do get a job at Playboy. That would totally rock.

My first real exposure to sex was when I would sneak in my Dad's room and I think Thomas found one of his Playboy's laying around.

I have to go... interview at 2...

****************************************************

Working for Playboy would be my dream job. I have determined that already. I think about sex so much (just like any healthy girl in her twenties should) and the atmosphere is totally relaxed.

It's nice to imagine...

Saturday June 26, 1999

Happy Birthday Donald Robinson!!!!

So... Dick showed me this little trick on how I can clean up my web pages in one foul swoop.

If you can't tell, I have gone a little happy with it and changed my entire journal. I want to make it easier to read and more comfortable for people that come here. I used to be all about me being in a depression, but I think I am over that stage in my life.

Can I tell you how cool it was to interview at Playboy?

You walk into the corporate office and of coarse there is a beautiful woman as a receptionist. There are beautiful women walking around everywhere, and a lot of them work there not as models.

As I waited (I showed up WAY TOO EARLY) to be seen, I took a seat and started thumbing through the literature. The corporate literature with Christine and her father in it... it was just so weird. Hugh Hefner picked the colors out for the web page. I just can't believe some of these things Kelly was telling me.

Oh my god, the office building is just amazing. Glass everywhere and then to make it even nicer, there is this amazing art every time you turn the corner. I have never seen so much art outside of a museum. It was truly amazing.

The view... oh my god... it's right into the lake. The cubes allow you to have some privacy. I would totally love to work there. I can be myself and I can hang some of my own nudes up.

There is a low tolerance for bullshit. I think in order to work there you have to be over many issues. I know I will never be a Playmate or anything like that so it's just nice to think that I can still in some way be a part of the magic that is Playboy. Hell, if I can believe in one corporation in my life, I would rather rely on the industry that knows it's place in the business. It's not like I would ever have to worry about Playboy being bought out or losing my position. If I fucked up there, it would be my own fault and since I am not too keen on the idea failing... I think I could go far.

Well, that is my dream job.

Can you imagine what they would say at my class reunion?

Anyways, yesterday was one of the most perfect days of my life, even though there were other problems. I left the company I was working for in such a good mood because I had an interview. Then I had my interview and it was so awesome. Then Dick came home and we chatted and then decided we needed to get out of here, but only after he showed me how to fix my pages on BB Edit. I went a little nuts and was so excited I started changing everything really fast and well, you are seeing the results.

So we went to the Lava Lounge. That was nice. We played pool for free and it was like we were in someone's basement. We chatted about life and love and all that good stuff. We didn't have any cash and we had just enough money to buy ourselves one more drink. We decided we wanted to hang out all night at the Lava Lounge so we went to get some money and the cash machine was down. We went back to the Lava Lounge and drank some more. I have a Malibu and Pineapple and Dick had both a Weiss and then a Blue Moon. He is very educated when it comes to beer so I asked him what to get when we went to Leona's.

It was so crowded and noisy. Dick and I aren't necessarily too keen on crowds and since we had been talking so intimately it was kind of hard to give up that closeness but I quickly spotted what ended up to be the worst table in the restaurant. We sat down and it went all downhill from there. We waited 20 minutes and no one was there to serve us. They were so busy. I went to the bar to place some kind of order and then all these guys perched right next to our little corner being totally drunk and obnoxious. We were less than thrilled, but we wanted our fat cheese cock mozzerela sticks. They were yummy. Dick always thought pineapple on pizza was gross until he tried it for the first time last night. I knew it tasted yummy with artichoke and was surprised that the roasted garlic made it taste even yummier.

So that was the worst part of the night, loud obnoxious drunks and bad service. It was a perfect day yesterday.

So today we are lounging around a little, trying to figure out what to do. I want to go swimming... but I don't think Dick's up for it.

I go home tomorrow. And the Gay Pride Parade is tomorrow too, so I am excited about that. Last year I was in Madrid and this year... I want to see what it's like in Chicago. It's sad that the Gay community has to fight for rights that the government imposes upon us.

I hope I live to see the day when Dick can get married if he chooses, that would make me the happiest fag hag in the world.

Monday June 28, 1999

I was really sad to leave Chicago last night. I told Dick hopefully the next time he is going to the airport with me it's just because one of us has to come back home.

The parade was marvelous. It wasn't as colorful as the one in Spain last year, because the sun was not co-operating, but it was a nice time. I passed our some of Dick's ads for the family circus and took photos.

I think I am ten times more brave when my friends are around me.

I thought about cleaning up my web page and putting the images in their proper place, but that would take forever. Right now they are sitting all together with the HTML files and that's rather messy.

My apartment is so clean now. Elena moved out and I can't say that I am terribly sad because things were strained between us. I was reading in Cosmo the other day on how to treat a friend who has lost someone they love and two of the things it said she did. One of them was to "look at the brighter side of life" by focusing on what I had versus what I didn't. And granted I do have a lot of things going for me now that still does not take away the constant loss I feel for my mother.

Once she said those things, my heart felt like it was breaking all over again and I know she was just saying them to cheer me up, but it didn't help at all. In such situations it is better to just listen to what someone else has to say and console them the best way you can.

I wish I could have felt differently about her after that, but it hurt a lot.

Now my apartment is emptier than when I left it, and I must say that I am glad to have my own place again... even if it's a temporary fix.

Melissa met me at the airport and Colin was in his nighty. Before I checked to see my luggage I went out to see if they were there and he was running around like a wild baby. He ran in the other direction and he hadn't seen me yet but Melissa had and she got his attention and diverted it towards me. He was running around with a big smile on his face and then when he saw me and I started running to get him he took off to meet me in my open arms. I kissed and loved on him, throwing him up in the air and all that wonderful stuff people should do with babies.

I missed them so much, but the past few Fridays were hard because that is usually my boy time.

So... sigh... I am so relieved to be here, but not relieved at all. Normally I would be in Europe by now and that kind of bothers me. I miss it dearly. I miss my friends, I miss my life. I find it's much easier to grieve any loss now that mom is dead.

Wow... as I sit here in my bed, with lots of cat hair and fresh from sex I wonder what my life is going to be... I hope to god I can always have fun and enjoy myself.

Jacinta gave me my birthday present last night. She was like "I know it's a little late" and I was just ecstatic because it's nice to get something you don't necessarily expect.

Me and Kevy Joe went over there yesterday around 11. We talked to her parents and siblings. Her dad was raised in Bucktown, which used to be the ghetto oh so many years ago up in Chicago. Now it's one of the most expensive places to buy real-estate in Chicago and it also happened to be the area of town where I was working. It's been gentrified.

Juan, Jacinta's father, was telling us all kinds of stories about how people used to be murdered right on Wisconsin just for being there. I think that area of Chicago has been cleaned up a lot.

Jacinta's mom is Peruvian, so she was telling us all kinds of stories as well. She is such a doll. I love being around them because they are such a family. I think that's a problem with people that are of British descent... there is not the connection you feel towards one another like there is in Latin culture. Maybe that is the one thing that makes it so unique.

I'm glad I can recognize the difference, and I hope I have been injected enough with that hot blooded Latin culture... although it might pose a problem with my hot head Clay demeanor every once in a while.

OK...I am going to go pick up my diplomas.

Tuesday June 29, 1999

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TANICHKA!!!

So the job at playboy will forever remain a dream job. This has not been the greatest day for me so far. I think my attitude towards life... is unlike any others.

If you are unhappy in a situation, then why don't you try and change it?

Do you accept that there is an established way of doing things and move on? I guess it just revolves around that what you are willing to accept in life. The web industry has a long way to go before people understand the structure of what it is. I don't understand how people can't see that it is a major contingent of history.

You know, I just don't think I am going to take anything but my own life so seriously anymore because if you are optimistic or enthuistiac or show the slightest initiative, people think you are a freak and don't understand what's there to be excited about.

I hurt Dick too and that's what upsets me about myself the most. I don't like hurting anybody but myself and I suppose that when you are friends it eventually comes down to hurting each others feelings every once in a while.

I have a very hard time ever saying when someone is hurting me because no one can ever hurt me as bad as my dad did or my mom dying, so... how do you put what anyone else ever says or does that irritates you a little, how can you put a value of pain on it?

Well, I guess I am done being heart broken to a certain extent because I don't want to think about all the things going wrong in my life because most of those are things I can not change.

I was so excited about what to think about Playboy too, conceptualizing how to slowly work on their web site so that the feeling I got as a girl that women are pretty and being in Playboy was a neat thing. Now it seems with it's dark backgrounds and what have you make women seem so much more alien. What would you think if you were surfing the net one night, a prepubescent boy just wanting to see a naked girl if how they portray women? They are in charge of corrupting the youth of America's minds and I for one, a product of this over commercially saturated culture, think it's important to show women as soft, approachable creatures to be loved and not just fucked. I understand that there is some kind of formula that they have been using from the magazine, but I feel that there is an essence missing that can't be translated so easily into the web for some reason. These are problems that every company should take into consideration. How do the colors effect or evoke a certain mood...

Oh well, it's not my problem any longer. I can just do what I can do with my own stuff and learn and grow that way. Maybe I was wrong in thinking that I should save my photography for myself and do it on the side. Maybe I won't get hurt so easily from that skill again since I have been censored before.

God, I just don't know what to do. Growing up and getting a job really is not an easy thing to do.

Pure
Photography

PHOTOS\

Dr. Block's

Nature

Cubes

Europe

Portraits

Fantasy

Dying

Kazantip

Birthday

Russia '96

Russia

London '99

Stills '98