Monday March 1, 1999

I usually like to leave the month with a bang, or an extra thought but I am just really glad to be through that anniversary thing.

I have been weepy lately, and I found myself crying some a few days ago.

But I was also taught how to Salsa by on of the most beautiful women in Louisville, she is naturally from Brazil. (Have you ever seen that movie?)

I got to see Elizabeth yesterday. There wasn't a lot of time, but I will steal just about any time I can and she makes me feel so awesome. She also told me something that made me love and admire her more because she said I didn't have to feel guilty for not always getting a chance to talk with her on the phone.

Like today... She comes out on stage and the crowd goes WILD because she passed her SCUBA test!!!!!!

She also told me that I shouldn't feel guilty for having fun. I think this is a problem I have from living in fear for my mother dying for so many years.

So when Duane Michaels was here he talked about how hard it was to take a photo of a beautiful woman and make her more beautiful. My thing is finding other sensual woman and trying to capture their sensuality on camera. Jenna rocked because she just exuded sensuality and I think there are a few other chicks I would like to objectify in this manner, and one of them happens to be Allege, the Brazilian dancer.

We were talking the other night and she told me that I am the first American she has met that was really open, like many of the people in her country. That just made me feel so awesome.

But there is something that I don't feel so awesome about... and that's every time I have fun, I feel guilty. This is something I just need to get over because not only do I have a fucking awesome fun life, it's just not worth feeling like shit because I enjoy myself.

This guilt comes from living so many years watching my mother die. I felt bad that she was always suffering, and although she some what lived vicariously through me, I never really felt comfortable expressing myself when I was enjoying my life.

We went to a party Friday night. Kevin brought Sasha with him. I had the biggest crush on him ever since we were in Russian together. He's one of those jerks that you just want to throw down on the floor and fuck. I thought he was into me and we were flirting madly. He even made me sit on his lap at the club.

I was going to go home with him, but he changed his mind and they took me home. I would have rather of stayed at the club where all the Latin men were hitting on me, but I haven't really been in the mood to fuck around a lot lately.

I just want the attention.

Tuesday March 2, 1999

Last night I went to a movie with Damian. Damian and I have been friends for many years but I had to call it off way back when because I didn't think it was right for me to be with Andy and have feelings for another man.

We have talked it out and have resolved to be really good friends now.

We went and watched a movie about abuse, Affliction. It really sucked because I didn't really get the abuse factor feeling in the movie. Maybe it was because I was abused, and the character did not put the fear of God into me.

And the ending sucked too.

I think if they wanted to get an abusive man to play the role of the father, they should have used my dad. He's even known as Hitler in his law office, affectionately I assure you.

There was one other guy in the theater with us and he said that the movie was "disturbing."

Damian and I looked at each other and laughed.

I know that once you get over the initial phases of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, you usually don't want to have anything to do with the abuser. Or maybe it's just my lucky case.

Maybe other people like hanging around so their family members can treat them like shit. Not me, no sir. I am not doing that shit anymore because I know I don't have to put up with that kind of shit ever again, not from anybody.

And it really chaps my ass to think that I can get more kindness out of a stranger then I can many of the members of my family.

Fuck it. If anyone wants to play those shitty games, they can play them by themselves because I have too many other interesting things going on in my life then to deal with guilt and subtle manipulation.

Sometimes you just have to say "Fuck it, it hurts way too much and there is nothing I can do so I just won't be involved in these people's lives."

It sure has made my life 100 times easier not dealing with my dad or psycho pump.

I think distance is also a great factor in getting people to leave you the fuck alone. Only trouble is that while you are gone you have so many awesome adventures that when you return, all these people that "care" about you don't want to ask you direct questions, but want to bitch about their own lives.

My sisters were so excited to see me when I returned home from Russia the first time and I was having culture shock by being back here in the country and they told me how they got closer while I was gone and they started seeing holes in the family disfucktion.

As if I wasn't aware they already existed.

So I am sitting here looking at my surroundings all new to me, totally fucked up and they sat there and bitched about how their summer was.

It was as if I had never left.

I hate that about families. They can't possibly imagine what you do with your free time because you are not with them sharing the experience of life, so you must have all the time in the world.

I used to hate when Anne would come home from Lexington and throw my clothes on the floor and look at me and say "I drove all the way from Lexington, you can come back and do your laundry some other time." (This happened to be the last fist fight I got in with Anne 2 years ago November.)

And then she would look at me sometimes and I would want to claw her fucking eyes out when she would say "I miss you, Cathy."

Then why did she treat me like shit?

This is one of the things you have to be careful about when a loved one has Cancer. You can't treat them that much differently because then when they are well they will still try to pull the same shit to get what they want from you like they did when they were sick.

We spoiled Anne, and indulged most of her whims. I tried my hardest at first when she was sick, I went to Biggs and bought her paint by numbers and shit like that to keep her entertained and one time I had a shot for pain the night before and I was still groggy and she wanted me to get her a piece of Little Caesar Pizza. The thing about Chemo is that when you are on it you have this overwhelming cravings for food and you have to satisfy that hunger RIGHT THEN.

Well, I was a little sick and I wanted to sleep. Anne kept yelling at me and I wasn't feeling well. Then I think my older sister came in and she yelled at me one too many times and I just got up and left and didn't go back to see her very much.

Then she turns around and blames us for abandoning her in the hospital when she's the one that fucking pushed us all away.

Then she got dad and mom in her emotional little game and pitted them against one another more so then before because we had been living with my mom for 3 years and when she was well enough to come out of the hospital, she went and stayed with dad and that just broke my mom's heart because she was on Chemo too.

Then my mom would have my brother bitching at her for some reason or another. I really don't know how my mom survived as long as she did because there was always some kind of melodrama between us all. Maybe that was the reason she stayed alive for so long, I can't tell.

How can you show this kind of abuse on the screen and loop it back through so it makes a cohesive statement? I feel like I didn't even articulate all that right and I fucking was there.

So, I decided the other day that life is too fucking short to be involved with someone else if all they are going to do is bitch about their situation or they are just too fucking selfish to see what you need out of the relationship.

I can't stand ignorant people, but I hate the people that are semi-aware of what's life is about but they still turn to ignorant sayings or mis-treating other people.

I would rather have 1 day with people that were good to me then spend 5 years hoping they will one day figure out they can not longer treat me like shit. And how do you bring this up in polite conversation?

I just hope that if I do ever have a family of my own that I will constantly remember not to mis treat my children or say bad things in front of them... bad things like some of the shitty attitudes I was raised with.

And I don't mean ignoring them either. I was raised to be racist. I am not proud of this, but it's still a part of who I am and all that shit I was raised to be.

That and to hate gay people.

But you know what a first class fag hag I am.

I also recently deduced that I think that if a guy I was with was ever with another man, that wouldn't kill me because a man is just another person, and obviously it didn't work out or he wouldn't be with me.

That's progress, let me tell you.

I have a pen pal in London named Waleed and we were talking about how embarrassed I was about this whole Clinton ordeal because it made Americans look like neurotic sex freaks.

He told me to quit thinking like that. It was a good message sent to the entire world that even though you are President, you are still accountable for your actions, and that people in third world countries see that and understand there is some kind of justice system.

I really like the way he thinks.

Wednesday March 3, 1999

so many emotions and feelings welling up inside... the never knows. I hate when the never knows invade my mind.

I sit in the car seat, barely feeling the cold. That same old numb feeling returns to me again. I am pissed off at myself for not taking her photo... a feeling of dread I haven't lived with for over a year, the immediacy to do everything NOW instead of waiting for what might happen.

I have been living the luxury of putting some things off since mom died. Everyone else seems to do it.

Tonight was a reminder...

27 with a newborn. Cassie Dalton. I can see her unlocking the door to her first apartment when I was still a teenager telling me how lucky I was to have such pretty legs...

Long blond hair, she was always so lovely and sweet. Alcoholic mother...

27... She is just 27 and in ICU. Her brain swelled. She is a new mother. I take her hand in mine and expect the same limp way my mom's hand used to hang when I would see her after a major surgery. She takes her hand away.

I tell her that it's me. I tell her that she needs to fight harder because there are people that need her. I ignore the tube going into her brain while staring at it at the same time. I tell her she will never be the same again... She has sleepies in her eyes, and her cropped blond hair that was so thick and flowing at one time is splayed across the pillow, someone had been running their fingers through her hair.

Many days go by, trying to study, getting a job, forgetting about school until Dan can become an engineer. Putting her needs last. An apartment near by a wedding at Farmington. She was such a lovely bride... that's been over 5 years ago... MIA for 3 years at least and then an invitation to Mikey's bridal shower... we talk, I listen. An old house with new renovations, the hope that she was pregnant... the secrecy she shared with me.

The baby shower I could not go to... besides it was on the day mom died and even if I had been there, I would not have gone. I hate those fucking things.

Less then a month and she is in ICU, she should be 28 this year. Maybe 29, I can't remember.

Quick call to Mikey, she looks ok... but my basis of comparison was a woman that died from cancer. She is pink, she took her hand away, and she opened her eyes just before I got there...

I think she will be OK, just different. She has a child to raise. Sometimes one forgets just how fragile life is, even at 27.

Friday March 5, 1999

So much has happened in the last 24 hours. Cassie woke up from her coma and was making somewhat cohesive sentences. Mikey seems to think it's because I went into her hospital room the night before and bitched at her to come back to us.

I would like to agree with her on that but I know it wasn't me.

Elena's nervous energy of leaving has been transferred over to her friend Marina's house. Margaret and I are here alone, and tomorrow night will be the first night I have been alone in my apartment since I got back from San Francisco.

I learned from Fernando from Spain that according to my birthday I am on my eighth life so just one more to go! Who HOOO!!!

I really think about it... and I think we all choose our life's pattern when we are born, and I think I chose this life to lead because I was in desperate need of soul enriching experiences. I think we all come back for that level of spiritually.

I chose this life to show my mom that death was not as hard as she was making it to be, and that I was going to be here to help her through the worst parts... which is why it hurt so much when she died because we were so connected.

Being strong and on your own isn't always as easy as it looks, because there is always that fear that you are going to fuck up really bad and nothing is going to be there to stop it all from hurting. That's what mother's do.

I had a long talk with Lars, he's German, at the Granville Inn tonight. We went back and forth on the death penalty because Michael Schwalm and I horribly disagreed on it. I was for and he was against.

He couldn't explain to me the whole way of why it was wrong and Lars could. Now I think I am against it, but there is still that sliver of Kentucky red neck in my soul I want to see them fry. I was entertained by Faces of Death by the time I was 11, and I thought it was fucking cool to watch someone fry.

I think this comes from my European background and thinking of seeing people hacked away from their heads oh so many years ago.

Totally barbaric. Then I watched Dennis Miller Live the other night and I start thinking about what he said and how what we do to our own is nothing. What other animals do to one another is just so much instinct.

So why do we try so hard to stave off our more predatory instincts? Is it because it's dangerous to see one another as prey? Don't we some how prey upon everyone by putting ourself inside each other? I mean mentally... when you look into the eyes of a stranger and know they too understand what it means to be human.

Eyes are scary things, they are such indicators of the kind of person you are, and people that can't meet me in the eye for longer then a few seconds are people I know I usually can't connect with. And if we look too long, it can be too much.

I don't like to look into the eyes of people I just can't care about. I don't want to see them as people I should care about.

Mikey and I were talking on the ride here... she was so scared for Cassie, but when it was me, and I was sick, she "knew you'd be ok." I think she now has an inkling of an idea of what I went through with me, my mom, my sister, and my grandfather oh so many years ago. There for a while, every time you turned around someone else was catastrophically ill.

That's a lot for a teenage to deal with, and I couldn't expect some of my friends to understand how I was hurting. You can't articulate that kind of pain unless you get a healthy dose of it yourself. I knew people couldn't be my friends for very long back then, unless it was in their best interest as well, which is probably the main reason I let so many people use me back then.

I think back to that time, and I want so desperately to guard myself from all this shit, but Mikey told me that sometimes... you just need to feel it.

I went into the hospital and picked up her hand... I held it like I had my own mother's so many times before, usually after a big surgery... and I can't cry until now... I look as I pass the curtains in all the rooms of the ICU unit, and I say to myself "Mom was in that room, and that one, and that one over there..." I remember watching TV in this one...

And I hurt... I hurt so fucking much. I pick her hand up, like I used to pick up my mother's hand after they would cut just another little piece of cancer from her body... and her hand could never grab back. She was heavily sedated on morphine or some other drug and she couldn't tell I was there.

Cassie took her hand away from me, and I thought she would be fine. She will come out of this.

All this hurt and pain that I can not express except by living my life so fucking hard. Ignoring all the small pains like breaking my ankle the first fucking day I was in Moscow. I have such a high threshold for pain, both emotionally and physically that it's hard for me to evaluate the fun because I am not living with the threat that tomorrow she is going to die.

I was really hoping that I would have the luxury to put things off like other people now. Now, it's all different. Now I don't have to worry about what's going to happen because the WORSE thing in my life to this point is GONE... AND I DON'T FUCKING KNOW WHAT TO DO!!!!

And you know, I was suppose to take photos of Cassie and Tucker 2 weeks ago, Mikey called me up and asked me to... it was her baby shower gift from me... Only the day of her shower was the day mom died and I was in San Francisco.

I promised to do those photos... and what happens if Cassie dies? I will never forgive myself for relaxing and becoming lazy. Never. The first missed opportunity I didn't not take because there was always tomorrow... she's fine, she's healthy...

She now has a hole in her head... so we are going to start a club of chicks that have had their mind touched. I know one other girl that is a friend of her that was in a bad car wreck... she can join too.

Fuck I am tired, and I hate re-living and being able to articulate some of the pain I felt with mom that I couldn't feel then, but I totally can now.

FUCK...

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

I am watching the View. They are having a show about modesty and how necessary it is and that by being modest... that through education in forth grade about sex that we know all the facts.

What a fucking joke. These women are trying to justify being prudish and they aren't very creative. I think once you have had sex that you can work harder to seduce your partner to elevate you to higher levels of love and affection. Being modest has NOTHING to do with it. I think modesty implies a certain kind of objectification of women that really needs to be abolished.

Also being modest implies that you are not comfortable with your bodies.

And it shows how ignorant the author of that book is because she hasn't figured out that having sex and thinking of new ways to seduce a man are what keep things spicy. They don't teach you anything about "love education" it's technical and called "sex education."

I would rather my child ask me for a condom then to get pregnant or a STD.

So... I need to update my photos.

Sunday March 7, 1999

Routine... the regiment of being beautiful.

I have really pretty friends. I don't know if it's on purpose or one of those things.

I watch Jacinta as she does the beauty ritual to herself. Painting her nails, drying her hair, applying lotion and make-up. She is so fucking beautiful.

The occasion was for Tomi, her Finnish boyfriend. She is a very good girlfriend. She doesn't mess around on him and her heart is always longing to be with him. She could have just about anybody she wanted, but she is very selective.

We talk and talk and talk as she prepares herself for him. I feel closer and closer to her. We have had our problems in the past, I think most passionate people have, but we both realized not being friends was a lot harder on both of us. And I missed her so much.

We were room mates a long time ago, and I think she will always be so close to me. We both agree that we were the best of room mates. When we wanted to talk, we would and when we needed alone time we respected that.

So, we are talking and talking last night about life and I ask her how she does it... "I mean, how do you control your emotions so well?" because I always feel like my emotions are so evident.

Then she slams it back at me "How do you do it?" Realizing... HOLY FUCK, she is so fucking right. Thinking back to what she said...

"I told Sabel and Yussie that if I was ever in a bad mood I would go out with you and you always cheer me up." Flashes back to past events, thoughts of how I am so controlled.

How I perceive myself and how other perceive me slams me full in the face and I slowly start to understand what it is like to be around me. All the bullshit from my childhood, although it made me who I am today, is so incidental.

However, I have come to the conclusion that if my friends are ill and in the hospital, I really don't want a part of that. I have been there and done that and possibly the only other person I would really go see is Andy because he has been there for me so many times. (my family goes without saying)

I just can't emotionally afford that kind of shit any longer. It hurts me too much. It hurt me too much when Mom was in the hospital. I would have to emotionally prepare myself after a while. There would some times I just couldn't go see her but for an hour at a time. Sometimes she would remember I was there and other times the chemo stripped her of her memory.

And I know I haven't been dealing with all the anger of a frustrated teen for not being able to throw temper tantrums and being a good girl so I wouldn't hurt my mommy and rebelling like shit.

I rebelled in my own way, always wearing the mourning color of black.

This is why I have been such a slut. I never wanted my mom to be disappointed in me, her carbon copy, because I wanted her to believe I was going to live a better life then she and make the proper decisions. Now I am ready to fuck up, but not like she did. I am going to be infinitely more careful.

It's so funny how many women I know that are through with their first marriage... they say their husbands changed. How can you not see that in a man? I knew Andy would never change... which was a source of comfort but ultimately became the reason for discourse.

I know I mean different things to different people, but god damn it's nice to understand what I mean to people because that way I know that how I care and what I do really fucking means something and it's not all a delusion in my mind.

I spent most of the day yesterday with Andy. It was nice having him hold me in his arms, so familiar, but I no longer desire him. It's like we are still children and we are buddies, the bestest of friends, and I like that. I can't imagine him not being a part of my life because he meant something to me for so long... and he is really a good man.

Then I went and helped Marina with her homework. We sat around and talked about Elena. I think I am not the only one glad that she is not here, my kitty is running to and fro, acting like a kitten and he hasn't done that for a while.

Maybe I concern myself with other people's lives too much. Jacinta said she admired me for that but that she could never do it. I don't know how not to do it. How to be so selfish, but I think by watching my family I sure as hell can learn.

And I sure as fuck don't want to give very much of myself to them anymore. I have been mistreated one too many times...

You know, the other day Mikey was here and she was freaking out about Cassie, which is totally understandable, but then she tried to justify her immaturity when it came to my disease, and that tore right through me. Why is it so hard for people to admit that they fucked up and they feel bad?

I suppose this is one thing I can always say is that I try to treat others as I want to be treated, and I used to not expect anything in return because I was just happy they were my friend, but those days are over. If I don't see some kind of viable relationship in the ones I make today, I am not going to participate in some bullshit game.

I felt so bad as Mikey kept talking about how we were such a strong family because part of me wanted to scream at her and say "IMAGINE GOING THROUGH THIS SHIT WITH YOU MOTHER, YOUR SISTER, YOUR GRANDMOTHER, YOUR GRANDFATHER AND YOUR FUCKING SELF TOO!!!"

I think she can understand now, just how bad it was and she wasn't such a great buddy and she called me weird and shit like that. The first time I met her husband he looked up at me and said "Isn't this the girl you can't stand?"

How am I suppose to fucking feel after being there for her and then being here now and seeing her realize that by her just not being there for me hurt so fucking much? I wish I could just forget about that kind of shit, but it still fucking hurts. It hurts more now then it did then because now I know she has more of an inkling of what exactly what it was I have been through.

I wish I could be so forgiving, and I know that people change as they get older, but there is just so much behavior I can write off to immaturity and the rest... selfishness? I know I can't condemn my friends because we are all human and we all make mistakes, but these are the kind of situations that really define you character.... and I can finally say "I have been there and DONE THAT, and I don't want it ANY FUCKING MORE!!!"

You would think that I would get some kind of satisfaction at seeing something coming around going around, but that's just not the case. I don't like being here to see it going around because I can identify with the anguish and loss that I feel in my own heart at feeling so fucking helpless, and knowing there was nothing I could do. I don't want to feel that way anymore which is why my life is so structured to do what I say and say what I mean. I am not going to be battered around by the "What ifs..."

And I am fucking not going to be a tool to life instead of life being a tool to me.

Just call me the ultimate control freak.

Tuesday March 9, 1999

It's been a whirlwind kind of week and it's only Tuesday.

I went to Danville on Sunday after going to my sister's house and seeing my family and then I went to Joe's. I am so fucking funny, and I never really realized it. I told him and his wife one of the fucking funniest stories about traveling and they just kept laughing and laughing. That was so much fun.

Then I went to Danville and spent time with my grandparents. Granny and I had a little... she asked me if I felt guilty for spending money because I told her I was going to Florida for spring break.

Well, naturally I have rationalized in my mind that I am not going to feel guilty for living my life. I agonized over it all night and wanted to cry. It hurt my feelings because I thought she was trying to tell me that I wasn't showing my grief in the proper manner when that wasn't what she meant.

She was just worried for my future and how I am going to pay back my student loans.

I told her that long ago I rationalized how I felt about that. I had this money now, and I doubt if I paid back all my loans before I had some kind of life and then went right into a job, I would just die. Plus as long as I have those loans over my head, I know I will try harder to find a great job to pay them off sooner.

I think people don't think I think things through, but I think things through so carefully, most of the time. I didn't think the Elena thing through enough because I have been spending too much money but that's going to change when she gets back.

I told her I would provide her with a place to sleep and that's it. I am not going to be manipulated into doing more.

So Granny and I talked it through and I told her that I didn't express how I felt about mom dying to her because she was my mother and her daughter. I hope to never know how that feels because I know it just fucking sucks. I don't think me bitching to them about losing my mom will make it any easier, just like I didn't talk to Melissa about such things because her mom had breast cancer.

I didn't think she needed to know how much it hurt because she just doesn't know. I respect her and she has kind of defined that she can't deal with that kind of hurt not in words or actions, but I just don't feel comfortable talking with her about it.

Maybe this is why she is my best friend because she has never really demanded much of me when I was already thin. And she doesn't freak out very easily and she keeps the bad worries to herself. Sometimes we share things, deep things, but not the hurt because we both know it's there and we are trying to move past that stage of our lives.

This is why I love her so much, she is in such control over her emotions and life is having it's way with her right now and there is nothing she can do about it and all I can do is watch. And listen when it smarts. And take her to different places to have fun so she doesn't have to think about such shit all the time.

Next weaned, I am going to take Colin for the day and make her go have some time to herself. She is a single mom, she hasn't really had a day to herself in sometime now and usually if she doesn't have to work on a Friday night she will just come back home.

I can't do that.

So yesterday was a big day. My car is fixed... The leak that was putting antifreeze all over God's Green Earth is no longer. My grandfather looked at the radiator and said there wasn't a problem. I don't know how the hose sealed itself off, but it did. Pop took my car to a place to have the pressure checked and then the hose flew across the room. He was surprised my car made it to Danville after that.

I want you to know I am not totally independent. As long as I have my grandparents, I know there are some things I don't have to concern myself with so much and the main thing being is my car. My grandfather makes sure that it's always running properly and that we are checking the gauges and making sure there is nothing wrong with our cars.

He also changes the oil in my car or I will take it and have it done even though he taught me how to do it.

And my grandmother is just a saint as far as I am concerned. She told me more and more about her life this weekend and I was just surprised at how she is the one that has always made sure things got done. I think she passed this gift on to me.

If I overhear someone, anyone, saying they should do this or try that I totally encourage it. Liuda once told me a long time ago that she wanted to come to America and I am trying my best to make sure that her dream can come true.

Simple, little things that just make life easier for someone else. I like helping out whenever I can. When I was in Prague, I saw this Czech couple worrying over this girl's shoe. I looked at them and I looked at her shoe and I remember that I had been working on a key chain with this stuff my uncle from Spain taught me how to do when I was a child. When I was in Spain this summer, I told him and my Aunt how much that meant to me to be able to make those key chains because it was special way back then. So I had started this cool ass key chain with black and fluorescent pink and it wasn't completed so I reached in my backpack and took it apart and took the black tubing and got on the ground and fixed her shoe so the strap would hold long enough for her to get home. They didn't speak English, and even though Russian is a cousin to Czech, it's still not the real thing. But I fixed her shoe and I think both she and her boyfriend were surprised that I did that. Now they can tell their friends when their friends are talking about how all the American tourist are there and how much they suck that there was this one American girl that fixed her shoe long enough for her to make it home.

This is the kind of shit that really means a lot to me and stuff that is hard for me to articulate. There are some experience I have like this that I just can't share with anybody because they don't understand what it means to me and in most instances, it's much more fun to see me animated over such stories because I am so funny.

This is also why I need a lot of alone time, so I can think things through.

I haven't talked much about California because about 50 different things were going on out there that didn't involve me just fucking around with Zack. And everything meant so much to me that it's just so hard to fucking talk about because it was so special to me.

So while pop was fixing my car, Granny was mending a pair of pants I had bought at Old Navy. I loved these things and she had already hemmed them so it seemed like a waste to just throw them out. So I asked her to fix them and it was a little bit of a chore, picking seams and cutting out the nasty parts and putting it all back together so it was all clean.

She didn't really have a lot of food in the house, as she usually does, and I don't think she thought I was coming for sure so she didn't make anything on Sunday but yesterday afternoon she made fried steak and gravy with green beans and potatoes. It was so fucking good, especially the gravy. I ate too much, as I usually do at her place.

But I love her soup. Roman even misses it. So when she was done there we did the whirlwind tour of grocery stores in town trying to get the best prices on everything. We hit 5 different stores for different things. Granny knows how to shop like no body's business and I used to think it was because she was tight but now I know it's for the challenge to save money.

There is no greater a feeling then beating the Capitalist at their own fucking system.

My favorite thing to do is to fuck the phone companies. I had it down to an art about 3 years ago and I made about $200 by just switching my phone service from Sprint to MCI to AT&T. Jacinta was just in awe of my abilities. Ultimately I know the consumer pays the price, but damn it felt good getting money from those fuckers. If I could do it again now, I would, but I think they caught on to what we were doing to them, the smart ones that is.

If you are going to implement such a system, then you are going to get fucked.

So I saw this week's TIMEon the newsstand and I had to get it. It talks about how women aren't as weak as we have been perceived to be. They skipped all the facts like we are all formed as girls and that men carry the junk genes since women have another X to support the other one. They talked about how medicine works on women's bodies, but they failed to mention they usually use men in those studies and just give that shit to us because it works on them.

I won't believe in medicine as a science until they have all the chromosones figured out and they can predict how a certain drug will alter my system. Until this day, I will always think medicine is at least lucky and at most barbaric.

Wednesday March 10, 1999

I spoke to Roman today. He finally figured out how to ICQ. It was so strange, as most things are the first time you do them. For being such a strong man he is still such a babe. I don't know how he does it. I don't think I could live the kind of life he leads and not try to scrape my way from that.

Well, that's kind of what I am doing here, but it's easier for me to do it here then it would be for me to do it in Russia.

Today has been a big day. I met Granny at Hancock Fabric store and we went through and picked out stuff. I got some ribbon to make a head band, enough for three since I lose things so easily. I started fingering the lace, some of it so delicate, some of it so exquisite, and the rest was so fucking gaudy.

My heart panged when I looked at this one lace and I thought of mom and how she made us all satin hearts one year for Valentine's day and it was trimmed with pretty lace. I looked at the lace and I knew Granny was near by and I said "I miss my mommy."

She said "I know..." I kept looking at the lace so I wouldn't cry.

I am not always so sad, but sometimes, there are brief moments in time where I am just so overwhelmed with my emotions that it leaves a bigger impact.

I went to dinner with Jacinta and Tomi last night. I won't say it was the most pleasant evening, but I enjoyed the company immensely.

Anne and I talked on the phone for about two hours today. We talked about how we are both a little lost... that before it was easier because there was always that over bearing fear that mom was going to die, and now that that fear is gone, we are afraid of life.

Funny, don't you think?

I mean, Anne said we have been through so much, so fucking much, and now it's like it's all over and we are more afraid of living our life for ourselves. I mean, we don't have to worry about mom dying. We both know we are healthy right now so there is no fear of our life. We don't have to worry about coming home to a raving lunatic that is going to abuse us.

All in all, you would think we should be happy. That we DESERVE to be happy. That after all we have been through, now the light is at the end of the tunnel and there are very few things to be frightened of. I think we are both now more scared of ourselves then we ever have been because we have been told what to do and what to think and how to feel for so long that it's hard to rely on our more natural instincts.

My natural instincts are encouraging me to breed. I am so fucking horny all the fucking time that I can't deal with myself. Part of that is because of stuff I have been seeing on the Internet and some of it is from the mail I have been reading.

You know, I was beginning to think I was sexually deviant, but desiring to be touched and touched a lot is only natural.

Ph.D. Kloner is lecturing about how Hitler's Mein Kamph is very seductive, that he didn't seem like a lunatic. But he was a sociopath, just like my father. I mean how can you cut your feelings off so much that you believe when you are abusing children you are raising them in a proper manner?

We started to talk about some of the abusive things he would do. One that sticks out clearly in my mind is when I was in third grade, he made me and my brother write "I am a liar, I am a pig and I will clean up after myself." 100 times. Thomas was in fifth grade. Since Anne was in first grade, she only had to write it 30 times since she was just learning the alphabet.

I remember I was learning how to write in cursive and it was so difficult for me and I looked up and asked him if I had to write it in cursive or if print would be OK.

Mom saved everything. About 3 or 4 years ago... or when I was 19 the first time she found this piece of paper that I had written on and on one side there was the scrawling of my pre pubescent hand writing. The first side had a spelling exercise on it and the grade given was an A. The other side contained that vile sentence written over and over until it filled the back sheet of the paper.

I remember him bitching about how he never bought us anything nice because we couldn't take care of it, but he never showed us how to do it. This is one of the problems I have today. I have to be showed how to do something before I know how to do it or I can't accomplish anything.

The only task that I ever undertook on my own was learning how to masturbate, and I take a certain pride in that because I can fuck myself so well. I take pride in this feat because no one woman I know ever talked about how awesome it was to masturbate. I, in fact, told my #$%^#@&* sister in law what her clit was.

I am losing more and more weight. I am not comfortable with my body getting smaller so much because my tits stick out more. I was such a Tom Boy that I still don't know how to react to having tits and I have had them over half my fucking life!

Why is it that when I look at Surrealism, I fucking see everything and when I look at those fucking 3-d posters, I can't see shit? I have only seen one of those fucking images in my entire life even though I have spent hours trying to see many. The only fucking reason I even saw one was because Damian told me where the fucker was. Those things disturb me.

"It's one thing to be creative and expressive and another thing to try to control such a force." Kloner is starting to make my brain hurt. It's very hard living on the edge. Sometimes I look down into the abyss of madness and think about leaping in, and other days I crave to be accepted like a normal woman, but I know I can never be so normal, to lie to myself, to believe in the lie that this society is built on. I know too much, have seen to much and have felt too much for anyone to tell me differently.

I just wish I could fucking direct myself through this awful transition phase.

I am building up, slowly. Then I am going to explode.

To be perfectly honest, I don't like having big tits. I have always been embarrassed of them, and maybe that was just me not accepting that I am female. I tried so hard to please someone and now I just need to please me, and since I am just discovering what makes me happy, it's kind of hard.

But you would really think that because we have hurt so much for so long, that we could just bounce right back into living a normal, happy, satisfying life, but that's just not the case. I wish I could feel happy just doing some of the things that I do, but I am not. The only vacation that I have fully enjoyed was being in California and I think that's because I was surrounded by people that cared about me and weren't out to hurt me. It's really hard to get used to the concept of people not wanting to hurt me...

I'm not used to being treated well either, but I know that I am sick of being hurt or being too sensitive...

You know, I can't help it that I am sensitive. I rather like it. Why the fuck aren't more people sensitive? Why can't other people see that what they do and how they think somehow effects everyone they come in contact with?

Why do people think that because a child is around and because they are young that they won't remember what the fuck happens to them as they make their way through life? I had to scold Nate for stealing not long ago. I felt so fucking bad doing it, but he has to understand you can't take what is not yours without permission. I understand that maybe he needs more attention, but why should he go to that extreme to where he gets in trouble?

I sure as hell don't want to scold him. He's a fucking neat kid and I am glad he is my nephew. I do know, however, that when I talk to him and listen to his dreams and his fantasies, I am more endearing to him. I don't think people listen to children enough. They fucking understand just about everything going on around them no matter how hard you try or even justify your actions. They are not judgmental. We teach them that shit. They do not hate, unless they are secretly dissecting pets in the back yard and then you take that little fucker to the nearest mental hospital because that kid will be some kind of fucking loon that should not be loose in this society.

You know, I heard rumors of a boy in our neighborhood putting his cat in the microwave when I was a kid. I wonder what a fucking winner he turned out to be.

I have been thinking about this bullshit about the sexes, which is really all it is. If anything, we are the ones that keep society moving forward.

I think Freud was wrong. We don't suffer from Penis envy, men suffer from life envy because we can carry life in our bodies. And what comes out of our cunts can be quadruple the size of any man's cock, so penis envy my fucking ass. Men are just jealous that we are the providers of life. What would happen if one day we decided to be as selfish as some men?*

I think men just need to get over that shit and start behaving like men instead of children.

There are many men, don't get me wrong. And I don't want you to think I am sexist, because I enjoy fucking like any nympho should. I am just shoving down your throat the shit women have been told about themselves for many, many centuries trying to get you to understand why thinking this kind of shit is damaging to who we are as a society, as humans and as both men and women.

*you have a fucked up society in which we live in today.

Thursday March 11, 1999

Bloody Cunt and Diarrhea.

I now remember just why it was I was on the pill in the first place. So I could control my bloody cunt.

I am not in a good mood. I was reminded why it is I was isolating myself from people.

I don't care if people come to stay with me, I like the company, but I can't fucking stand it when people are not respectful of my stuff. I have worked fucking hard to have nice things and when someone comes in and shows no respect for my stuff, I get a little pissed.

I have a hard time establishing boundaries until they have been crossed. Sometimes I resent my mom for never being forceful enough. This means I have to learn what is going to make me comfortable and what is going to be too much.

And try hard not t appear to be an inconsiderate, insensitive cunt at the same time.

I am also beginning to understand that when I am explicit in public, men seem to take that as an invitation that I want to fuck them, when in all actuality it's really fucking hard for me to express myself to someone I am sexually interested in.

Can't figure that one out. Why would a man think that? What a fucking fool.

Sharon just asked me what it was like to be with a man and not think about his pleasure... well, I am sorry, but once a guy is on top of you, more then likely he will get off. I have only been with one guy that didn't get off and well... ask me if I give a fuck. Besides, he wore me into slumber.

I can just take it as revenge for all those women out there that think sex sucks because men can't fuck right or don't pay attention to women's needs.

Usually I try to be considerate, but I just don't care about a man that isn't in to seeing me get off as well. I know how long that is going to last... it's called a one night stand.

Maybe this is one of the reason I see sex so differently then other women. I can get off like a man, fast and furious, and then I am through and then usually I feel like, don't touch me and roll over and start snoring. This is the kind of shit men let into our culture when they watch dumb fucks like Andrew Dice Clay (THANK YOU, NO FUCKING RELATION) and Adam Corolla, like all good Toyotas he is worth his miles in gold.

They get on TV and they act like they are such fuckers, but these are the men that are first in line to wear a fucking diaper, I GUARANTEE IT.

Plus if they met me and things were to progress, I would make sure they would feel what it meant to be with a woman so they couldn't say that kind of shit anymore. I would fucking cum all over Adam's face and say "MOTHER FUCKER, TELL ME I AM NOT COMING LIKE A FUCKING MAN!" You know, when a woman cums like that, every fucking muscle in her fucking cunt pushes really hard against anything trying to go in, so if your cock is in that, it can feel really fucking awesome, but if you don't come out, you can hurt her because that fluid needs to rush out.

When I Keir was fucking me one time in Amsterdam, I started coming so much it just kept coming out in waves and he couldn't even go in once with out having to come back out so I could come. That was the most. Too bad we didn't have the video going, but I would really not like seeing my ass on video unless you could tell it wasn't me.

Fuck my ovaries are screaming. Imagine one of those snakes that they take to un clog a drain, then imagine inserting this into your penis and someone turning the fucker on. This is what a bad cramp feel like. Only, the snake can come out... there is a reason women are more sensitive then men.

I miss being fatter. I bet you have never heard that one. I liked being fat. I liked it that people left me alone for starters and I liked it that men didn't always stare at my tits. I liked it that people just stared at me on the outside and the friends I made were because they liked me for who I was.

But now... I have the friends I really need so I can be a bitch to people that will just like me for how I look.

Friday March 12, 1999

I fucking love Conan. He's such a cutie.

I fucking love Zack. He just showered me with love tonight about my photos. When another photographer really appreciates your work... it just makes me feel so good.

But then again, he's the subject in most of my photos from out west. I had some really great subjects out there.

He was telling me how I should have a show.

Shit I need to do my taxes.

I have been having a lot of fun. I had a lot of fun with Melissa and then I met Jacinta at the Granville with her boyfriend and then Grisha came and Sabel and then Maiza and her boyfriend Ben.

It was just a lot of fun, and I talked with Maiza about mom and stuff. It was so fucking cool.

Maury Povich is talking about his sex life with Conni Chung.

God I love Conan.

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

So I am sitting here in my bed, overlooking St. James Ct. and the day is just fucking amazing.

There is going to be a big snowstorm this weekend, supposedly.

Liuda didn't get her Visa. Elena told me to write this really sappy letter and I didn't want to. I fucking hate the American consulate.

Sunday March 14, 1999

Today is my father's 54th birthday. Fucker. My mom only lived to 52.

It is snowing and gross today. The sky can't make up it's mind if it's going to be wet or frigid. I think it's rather appropriate a day to celebrate such an occasion.

I have to pick Elena up at the airport today. I am not really happy about this because I am going to have to tell her some rules, mainly that I offered her a place to live, not solve all her problems. Before she left I unloaded a bunch of problems on her like she had been doing to me and I think it might have bothered her. She will be coming from Russia, though, and my problems will seem incidental all over again.

Friday night Melissa didn't have to work so I was excited and I asked her if she would like to go see a movie and she seemed kind of reluctant at first but then I said "Let's go to IMACS! The films are only one hour and I don't think he will cry." Besides, it's in the Science Museum and I always love going there.

Colin's first movie was Titanic. Since I had already seen it I was the one to comfort him while he cried. He was so little then. It's a lot easier taking a baby baby then a 17 month old baby. But we went and saw Elephants. It was too fucking cool. He was just staring and staring at the screen, a little overwhelmed by everything he was seeing. I liked watching him watch the show because he was so into it.

Then we walked around the museum for another 45 minutes and he was such a good boy. I was so proud of him. We sat and ate Astronaut ice cream and the elephant story was kind of hokey, but the imagery... that's it I am going to Kenya.

We did, however, get to see the main character's big ol' penis and watched him give it some cow. I love that I can say that about them because that's what a female elephant is called.

I told her the next day I just wanted to come and babysit for her and make her go away and do something special for herself. It's hard being a single mom because you can never escape your motherhood and although I know she loves her child very much, I think all mothers need to feel something special for themselves every once in a while and since Melissa doesn't have a husband, I can do it for her every now and again.

You know, I was thinking as I was babysitting that I hate when people act like having a child is such a sacrifice. It isn't. It's so fucking egotistical because you are in essence saying to the world that "This is a part of me, be good to her/him because I have done things for this society by producing her/him for you."

But I really don't care all that much. I have every intension on producing my own. It's really a decision you take upon yourself, and quite a burden just so you can feel better about yourself as you age. To see that you have done something right. I am more and more convinced of this as I watch Colin get bigger and bigger. Just when I think I have no more love in my heart for him he will say my name or just look at me and giggle senselessly and I think that is a beautiful thing and in my heart I feel more and more for him.

I really do appreciate children. But I love having a cat as well.

So, I watched Colin yesterday. We ate, we slept, he bathed, we ate again, we danced to the Beach Boys and then we hung out with his mom. She was happy to see that he was fed and bathed when she got home. I don't really know how I watched him a year ago because I was still in such shock that I could barely keep my clothes clean. I think back to that dark time of my life and I realize he was one of the few things that brought me a sense of joy when I felt so isolated.

It is such a pleasure to be a part of his life, and I hope to God he feels for me just everything I can feel for him. I think it's important to give those pieces of yourself to children that you like the most so they know what it feels like to be good and healthy.

But then I think of my own abusive childhood, and I honestly don't understand how I survived such a barrage of being made to feel like shit all the time. I guess it was just in my nature to perceiver and grow under such circumstances because I really had no other choice. This is probably why I am more selective now. I am learning to be more and more selective with my heart and my feelings. In case you didn't notice, I am a hyper sensitive person, but I am learning what not to be so sensitive about any longer. It makes living life a whole lot easier.

I came home and tried to clean up some before Elena gets home. Not that I really give a fuck, but I don't want her coming home and re-organizing all my shit again so I don't know where it is. She told me before she left that we are going to have to get rid of some of my boxes and things and I am just like "wait a second... if we move, we are moving out of this place because it's too small" and I don't have enough privacy. When it was just me, it was great but I am not going to live here and have someone take over my life with their whims and shit. I am not that handicapped yet.

I haven't talked about that in a while. I am considered by my government to be handicapped. I even was awarded some money from when I had brain surgery and I couldn't be a productive member of society. It was SSI. I got it for 10 months. I was just starting my friendship with Melissa back then.

I have a bunch of stories I have been holding on to, that I have just now been able to articulate in the past two weeks. It's really amazing.

Like when Roman and I were in Kiev, he was climbing a tree and I was trying to take photos of this kid using the pre-cursor to the skate board. My dad had one, but I don't know what they are called, but they look like a skate board with handlebars on them. I videoed him doing that and Roman was up in the tree like a fucking monkey throwing down apples and this cop saw him in the tree and then came down to harass us.

This was the first time I had ever been accosted by the militia and they are such fucking dicks. I didn't have my passport on me and neither did Roman. We had rented this really nice flat and the landlord kept our passports. We thought we were relatively safe, but we weren't.

Cops over there are fucking idiots. They make our cops look like they have their fucking PhD. in criminology. They fucking pester you for no good reason and if you aren't careful, they will arrest you for something extremely stupid, like not having your passport on you.

I had photocopied my passport and had a receipt of buying my fucking Ukrainian visa on me, and I almost kissed the fucking ground when I did because he already had us walking with him. He let me go, but Roman was going to have to go with him.

Roman, I think, could talk his way out of a nuclear bomb attack. Ukrainians fucking hate Russians now, and it was the day before they celebrated their independence from Russia. Needless to say this fuck was Ukrainian and young and wanted to meet his quota and show off to his boss that he was cool enough to haul in two foreigners without their fucking passports instead of... I don't know, stopping some other violent crime.

But the whole time I was in Kiev I was so fucking aware of the Mafia. Odessa is the hot Spring of the Russian mob, and I just have not worked up the courage to go there. Kiev was bad enough, I promise. Roman and I ate at this cafe near a newly renovated monastery or some other church and there were these people and you could fucking tell the father was in the mob and the kids were kind of ambivalent. They were trying to use their fucking camera and they were saying all kinds of things.

Do you know how fucking hard it was for me to not say a fucking thing? I wanted to look over at him and show him and tell him in my awful Russian just how to take better photographs with his camera, but I just couldn't. I was in fucking Kiev and he was such a fucking mobster. I think it would have been a hilarious story to tell if I had gotten over my fear and just walked up to them like a stupid Americuntka and talked with them. They would have shit, but I was not that brave.

Zack talked about how this guy terrorized me in his California web-site and how it made me uncomfortable, but he wasn't there to see me control my open personality while I was in Kiev. I think he would have been surprised I didn't just walk up to the Boss man.

Anne told my dad I didn't have a sense of fear, but I do. It's just a more primal one then being afraid of trying new things.

So there are a lot of stories up here, but it's just trying to articulate them all... that's kind of been a problem for me.

Now we are back to snow.

Grisha came over last night. I showed him my photos from my trip and I have a new found respect for my photos because he was able to tell me what some of them meant to him. It made me feel really fucking awesome.

Monday March 15, 1999

FUCKER FUCKER FUCKER.

I hate my fucking piece of shit brother. What a fucking loser. He steals over 10k from the estate buying shit like a jacuzzi and renovating my mom's house that WE still owned without our fucking permission. I came back from Russia this year and my room, at the time it was MY FUCKING ROOM had been totally re-modeled and that fucking piece of shit and his piece of shit wife THREW MY SHIT AWAY WHEN HE TOLD GRANNY AND POP IT COULD STAY IN MY ROOM.

Sigh... I just take comfort in knowing that he has spent all his money and he is freaking out because there is no way he can afford a brand new Mercedes and make house payments. He fucked himself really good because all those bills are coming due.

I guess I am the stupid one for not fighting harder, but how do you fight with the criminally insane?

That's IT!!!!!!!! THAT'S FUCKING IT!!!!! No more fucking estate bullshit, no more putting up with my stupid fucking piece of shit brother, no more worrying about what might happen. No more ties to that fucking land, no fucking anything...I can forget about this horrible, degrading and embarrassing episode of my life, and my brother can no longer abuse me.

I thought I would be horribly depressed, and it's something that has been weighing on my mind heavily but now I am just fucking relieved to be FREE... FREE OF ALL THIS HURT AND ANGUISH!!!!!!!!

I have been really busy today...

Damian and I went for a drive last night. He drove me to this remote area of Louisville where the houses cost a lot of money... on the drive down there, I thought about how it reminded me of a place...

It was a night I was in Volgograd and Roman took us to this remote place to go dancing and it really sucked and the music was bad, so I sat there in the dark on a park bench and smoked cigarettes, thinking about mom and her dying while Roman and who ever was with us went and listened to the yzhastne music.

We walked around and I was just in a total daze the whole time I was there.

I saw 2 dead deer on the road when I went to Danville last week about this time. Last night, Damian and I saw 2 live ones near the River. It was so cool.

So I picked Elena up at the airport, I was a little sad. Then I went and was fitted for my scuba outfit at the diving place. Then I went and paid the taxes on my car. Then I came back home. Waited for Edie to call me so I could pick her up in Cincinnati. Talked with Elena. E-mailed some. Waited for Edie. Freaked out. Paid my bills. Made the necessary calls and paid the necessary bills. Waited for Edie to call. Checked my e-mail. Called and made reservations for the hotel in Florida. Called Damian to see if he got the Van. Had Jacinta call and ask if she could ride down. Allege wanted to go. Then Jacinta's sister... now I have gotten 9 people together to go on a road trip in a van that seats 8.

Woke Elena up and waited for Edie to call. Damn her plane wasn't still in New York?

Finally at 5ish she called. Stopped and got gas for my car. Listened to a kick ass tape... need to take it to Fla. and made it into Covington after getting gas and pissing twice.

Gotta love those American toilets. I think there is a certain level of dignity a woman loses when she has to shit in a hole. Brings us one step closer to realizing we are little more then animals.

I never felt this way BEFORE I went to Russia, I had used out houses in Central Kentucky GOD DAMMIT, nothing could be grosser.

Then I shit in a hole in the ground.

I decided when I become President, that I am going to make it mandatory to study one year abroad and have my little catch phrase The entire world does not run on 110! be fully understood.

It wasn't until recently did I realize that even the fucking educational system is just a fucking joke to get money from the fucking government. The only thing that is really important is how much money the schools make for enrolled students.

And you want to know the answer I would really like to know? Why in the fuck do Americans have to have a different system then the rest of the fucking world? What's this shit about "Global Networking" when you can't even fucking use a cellular phone from any other country in the fucking world when you are in America.

Metric. Why do we still use something like the Dewey Decimal system? And speaking of cataloging... why in the hell are our books shelved differently? Why can't the fucking English get over that we are no longer the fucking colonies? My family, both sides, have a coat of arms. I would like to know how many of those pretentious fucks that come from nothing can think so fucking highly of themselves when a fucking American cunt has two fucking coats of arms and they don't.

So we got home and Edie and I talked, I spoke with Waleed for a little and then I spoke with Elena and Marina and blah blah blah.

I leave for Florida tomorrow... with 9 other people.

WOW!!!!!!

To the land of "hard bodies" and pro wrestling... I saw that the WCW are going to be there. A big crowd of solid hunks of big beefy bods... I just can't wait to photograph. Thank God I am going with another photographer on this trip, Edie. After that nightmare in Alcatraz... shudder. (Look on this week's Welcome Page to see a very scary photo of me. Well, scary to me that is.

I will update when I get home.

Tuesday March 23, 1999

Just one more reason to hate my brother even more. I had one of the worst nightmares of my life last night. I had a nightmare that my brother killed my mom and that he was trying to kill my dad, and I think he did and then he was trying to kill me and my little sister because we were witnesses.

It had nothing to do with the article I read in Paper yesterday I am sure... the one about how it is the yuppie thing pay people to kill your problems.

It was so vivid. I remember it almost like I remember a fucking movie, and I had to pick up what stuff I could salvage and I had to be mean to Anne to keep her from crying so we could begin our lives on the lamb.

I suppose it also has nothing to do with the fact that in some way, shape and form I feel like my brother had more to do with mom dying... no, he didn't have anything to do with her dying, but he sure as hell had something to do with her quality of life while she was here which was too tragic to go into good detail. Besides, you came to read about what a slut I was over Spring Break anyway, and to find out that
I AM A CERTIFIED SCUBA DIVER!!!!!

Here's what I wrote for some of the days I was there:

March 17, 1999

We drove and drove and drove. We were lost forever and not only that, Damian didn't get the van until 5 when he was suppose to have it by noon. It was a nightmare just sitting down and waiting. It's so hard for me to give up control. If I had taken care of it, I would have made sure that everything was ready the day before, but I am trying to learn what it's like not to be such a fucking control freak.

So... today was a beautiful day after we all fell asleep as a whole. Except for Damian. He never sleeps long and he never eats much. This doesn't worry me, but I think when other people become familiar with his habits they are disturbed.

What's hard for some people to understand is that he and I both need a lot of alone time in order to be sociable. I am convinced now that I need less time alone then he does.

Warren cut my hair just now. Warren Sparks. He came with us and I didn't really know him except for when I had talked to him over the phone for 10 and 20 minute increments last week. He wanted to know if everything would be cool to come to Florida with us and he sounded really fucking cool and he is. I haven't let anyone cut my hair since the day mom died, so it just took me some time to calm down and relent.

So... there is me, Marie, Damian, Edie, Jacinta, Carolyn, Warren and Tomi. Allege backed out and didn't bother to call me. I had to call her and she used the lame excuse that she called an no one answered, but that's bullshit because that day I was home all day.

You know, do anything to me, you can treat me just about any ways you want and I can understand that sometimes you are just in a bad mood or you are going through a rough period, but don't ever EVER fucking lie to me. I fucking can't stand it. Anything but a lie...

I laid in the sun and thought of my anticipated lover. I flirted like mad and got a bunch of beefy guys to pose for me. "Come on... show me your muscles..."

Marie was impressed by my candor and my ability to speak to men in such a manner, which in turn makes me feel more confident in myself. I have said many stupid things that every once in a while I think "oh... Cathy." But then I get over it and know that these people are my friends and they know what I am like and they wouldn't be around me if they didn't like it.

Jacinta is so great.

This one drunk guy came out on the beach and was looking for his glasses and I found them and then he was so happy.

Where are you from?

"Kanfuckme."

"that's the state I wanted to be from..." chimes in one of his friends.

After gyrating hips and much flirting he left and I felt much better.

But... I think Spring Break here is a sad state. It's nice to see how my own culture reacts as they "relax" but it's so depressing too. I mean I am summing up the differences in my head of how different it was for me to be in the Ukraine. I think I enjoyed myself ten times more in the Ukraine even though I understand everything going on here... It's just such a struggle over there, and here it's so easy.

March 18, 1999

I have never felt so fucking beautiful in my entire fucking life.

You never realize the value of something unless you have had it professionally done, and some times professionals aren't so professional.

Warren has made me feel more like a woman then I ever have before and he didn't even have to touch me. I mean sexually. He trimmed my hair and plucked my eyebrows. Now my symmetrical features are further accented by my symmetrical eyebrows and I think and feel more beautiful then I have in my life.

Marie and I walked forever down the beach. Just she and I to go on a secret mission. We talked about relationships and what it means to feel.

I swear, I hate this place in a way because all these drunk soriety gutter cunts and all the revolting jock frat boys disgust me and they are just the kind of disgusting Jesus crispy people that go on Carnival cruises. I try... I really try to fit in to this society because it is mainstream, but I can never fit in because I have just done so many things with my life and lived in such a way that I can not deal with pretension very well.

I will watch them and laugh to myself and every once in a while try really hard to make it easier on myself, but that can never happen. I can only act and then the... I was approached by some of the religious right that was trying to hinder my spring break fun. I can't talk about them too much, because Edie is a member of that society and I respect her for that. He made us take a survey about how is our life.

Pick three adjectives to describe your life.

1. Awesome
2. bleeping something I forgot
3. Fucking rocking.

"...Blah blah blah... How come you fell this way about your life?"

"Because I have had a really hard life and I know that this life is heaven and hell and we become part of the collective consciousness when we die... blah blah blah"

We got to the little hut and he said it was 60 dollars today. The boy had all kinds of tattoos on his body, but this really cool one written in Chinese going up his back. Marie asked him what it meant and he said "roach". Thinking back... it was an appropriate nickname. Yesterday it was 70. We paid our money and then went out to the little boat to take us to the big boat. We got up on the deck and I asked the captain if I could take off my dress.

"Earlier this morning, we had 8 girls that came on the boat and just took off all their clothes. They didn't even ask..."

I had my bathing suit on. I wasn't going to do this totally naked. The first mate had us put on these ugly contraptions that were rainbow colored like Mork's suspenders. It was tight going across my thighs. Marie was hooked up first, then me. As soon as we were up in the air a little, I reacted quickly and grabbed her with my legs. We were parasailing. It was so amazing seeing everything up so high, and it was just such an overwhelming feeling and it was so fucking beautiful. If you ever get the opportunity to parasail, I highly recommend it.

So that was the little bit I managed to write while I was there.

Hmmm... where to go from here? I can finally fit my fat ass into a pair of Calvin Kleins, so I am very ecstatic over this fact. I think I will wear them until they rot off my body. I don't think I have worn a pair of Calvin's since I was 14.

The last day in Florida was rocking. I was Certified. I had a hot dog in-between my TWO wet suits snuggled deep in my tits and some little fucker managed to smell it and decided my chin look like it was an ample appetizer so it chomped on me which fucking hurt like hell and my regulator fell out of my mouth and I was in shock. Believe me, if I had a harpoon gun I would have stuck ever last one of those fuckers alive and allowed them to chomp on one another. I was impressed with my ability to remain cool in this situation, although I did ascend and rather quickly and was reprimanded by my instructor who was on the fucking surface and had the amazing powers of "knowing" I ascended too quickly without actually seeing me. I couldn't even fake it. I knew I came up too fast, but I was pissed off at that fucking fish... really more at myself for being stupid enough to have a fucking hot dog nestled in my tits.

OK... so usually I don't like to talk bad about people. Really I don't. But there was this fucking annoying cunt that even though she has a lot going for her she is STILL NOT ALL THAT. At least... she does NOT get the Cathy Clay stamp of coolness on her record.

For one thing, she had a breast reduction surgery and decided not to show me so I could contemplate have the cut even further. I have heard horror stories of getting your tits reduced and since she was not willing to show me then fuck her and her story. It's not valid as far as I am concerned. She was a gymnast and she did this and that and the other. She tried to tell me she raised her two younger siblings, which if you are that kind of athlete and compete as she said she did, I find it highly improbable.

Anyways, she was so fucking full of herself. All she could talk about was her her her. Going to medical school. She fucking annoyed me and I imagine everyone around her so much. Finally, she was talking to the truck full of guys, our dive instructor, Beau Bowles, George, and Warren, on our way back from a club and she was talking about how she had never had a long term relationship and how the last time she was asked out was in '95. She kept going on and on, like the fucking Energizer Bunny so I finally had to butt in and ask

"Do you have sex with these guys?"

"No. It usually only last for 3 weeks, and I figure if they can't wait then they really aren't worth it."

"You poor thing... I take a different approach on guys. I like to use reverse psychology on them." Naturally every ear was peeled to what I had to say because they were all sick of listening to this cunt. "I like to fuck them on the first date and get it over with."

Everyone in the fucking truck jumped, including Warren and he had been around me for several days at this point. The guys could not quit laughing and cunt just quit her fucking yapping. I think we were all grateful for the thick silence that descended upon us like a hurricane.

Or at least I was grateful. I didn't realize this until later, but she kept trying to steal my thunder, and you know, you can't do that to someone like me unless you are a worthy opponent. Then to seal our fate as "friends" I said "God Dammit" and she almost had a conniption. Then came the word "cunt" and I don't think she looked at me again.

The next day Beau said loud enough for a few people to hear that Marie and I were his dive buddies since I have this cyst in my brain, he wanted to be extra careful with me. Marie watched her fume. I missed it.

I am very appreciative to Beau for teaching me how to dive because he had to take a certain responsibility to do it. He cracks me up so much too. He is so straight and dead pan that when you can get him to laugh, you are really fucking cool because his sense of humor is so dry. He can deliver the funniest fucking line with the straightest face and I wish I could do that, but I am too expressive.

OK... so that was in beautiful Ponce De Leon, shit hole to the world except for the Vortex Springs. When we were in Panama City Beach... there were so many fucking Kenfuckians I could die. We went to some dinky club... The Happy Marlin or something like that and I was so fucking bored. Carolyn and Marie got some hotties chasing after them and who in the hell accosts me but some fucking hick from London, Kentucky that had never been to Louisville. You can guess how far he got into my pants. I did let him rub and gyrate his drunkenness all over me. Oh... now I remember why I was bored, I was the designated driver.

So the next day we got to the beach late, as usual. Jacinta and Tomi were a little pissed, and I would be too, but nobody fucking woke me up and I didn't take a shower the night before so I didn't want to go out stinking, plus in order for my Ban de Sole self tanning shit to work I had to be properly exfoliated so I could have that dark Centropei tan.

We picked a spot and Edie and I went around and took photos and then we went back to our station and some guys we met the day before came and found us and that was nice. Then these fuckers wouldn't get on their hands and knees for me so I could objectify them. They had an accent and I thought it was Spanish and they said they were from New York.

"No wonder you are such assholes." I said.

They kept yapping and then I said they had a Spanish accent and they were offended and they spouted off something in Russian...

I took a deep breath and hurled every insult in Russian I knew at them.

They fucking died.

It was one of those freaky moments from a freaky fucked up movie where two totally different stories are going on and all of a sudden it all comes together. The fuckers still didn't get on their hands and knees for me, but this one big ass fucking Mexican let me take a photo of Carol up on his shoulders and that fucking made me happy, I think she was happy too.

I will say this, walking on the beach with Carolyn was like walking with a super star. She is amazingly beautiful and has a fucking killer body. Everyone stares at her and she ignores it all for the most part. And Edie... I have known Edie since she was 14 and all of a sudden she is like a porcelain doll with MONGO tits. I was so happy that all of us got along so well. It was nice to be around so many girls in various stages of life that were just such a joy to be around.

And the guys were great too. Damian, well, he's Damian, there is no other way to describe him. Warren... I know too much... something about a party we had both been too. He didn't believe me until I started giving graphic details and that's all I can say just in order to serve my own memory, but it was too fucking funny to watch him fumble over that one and Tomi. I understand now why Jacinta loves him, and I really hope they can work it all out because they are a great couple together. He doesn't seem very passionate, but then I think he is very passionate it's just that damn Finnish exterior that's so hard to get past.

We went to LA VIVA or some stupid club like that on Thursday night and it was so fucking huge. I found the dungeon and techno music fast and sat my ass down on cum stained couches. Passed the gay bar, the heavy metal bar, and frat boy bar. Saw lots of hard bodies.

So I was dancing with Carolyn and Marie on this little stage, just minding my own business when this pervert came up to me and I couldn't help but shove my tits down into his face. It was Spring Break, and Carolyn had just made the comment that she felt like a stripper so I thought I would help aid in that effect. Well, he came up and danced with me, and let me just say I earned the title CRACK WHORE honestly that night. I stripped him down so his over developed hard muscles were exposed for my pleasure. I rubbed my cold tits all over his wet, hot back just to see how nuts I could drive him. He flipped too and fro like a fish learning how to breathe without gills. Tits on the chest, tits on his back.... over and over again with some gyrating hips here and there and everywhere. The next day my legs were sore from dancing so hard. I have never had a man offer to lick my cunt on stage before, nor do I ever anticipate this kind of elation again... it was my first and last Spring break in Panama City, I hope.

I gulped down a bunch of salt water one day and from diving in the cold Spring I got a cold and a lung full of junk. I am sure I caught Edie's funk as well. I came home on Sunday and passed out after dropping all my film off at Sam's (wholesale warehouse club that is) and Nate's hermit crab. Those little fuckers can pinch hard, I found out the hard way.

Wednesday March 24, 1999

Damn Jerry is hot this morning!!!

It's a beautiful Spring day today... I think I will go to London.

My computer is broken so I am sending it back... it fell out of my backpack last week. I hung out with Damian last night...

OK... I have a million things to do, like finish packing.

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