Tuesday
February 1, 2000
Man I
am emotionally beat. The older I get I never understood how
I made it through my childhood. I was constantly crying and
hurt. It seemed a day would never pass without dad being abusive
and the only time we would let our emotions out was on the weekend.
I feel
today like I did back then. Plus I have been geeking over this
web site too. I don't know which design to go with but I am
going to have to come up with about 2 more so I am happy.
I will
try to write more later... I have a lot going on today.
Wednesday
February 2, 2000
Did you
know I made over 37,500K last year?
Neither
did I.
I want
my money my tax return says and I want it now. Fuck U of L.
Had I known I didn't even have to work I would have been happy...
but where's my fucking money?
I went
to see these Voc Rehab about starting my own business and as
long as I get everything squared away, I may be opening my own
business with little cost to me. They might buy me some equipment
AND help me market myself. And it might not cost me a dime!!!
I am so
fucking excited. I have to think of things I need to establish
myself on a further level. Maybe a new computer... or just get
this one fixed. Some other things. I am just so excited about
this!!!
And the
site I have been working on is coming along so good! I'm in
really good spirits these days. Although I think I would feel
better if I was getting some sweet, sweet loving.
I feel
like things still aren't right between me and Kevin. I feel
bad for expressing myself with him. I think that is something
I just need to get over. I think he is more surprised that I
want him around then I am surprised he is staying around. He
still has the attitude of a puppy that peed on the brand new
antique Oriental rug though.
I have
been summons to imbibe. Later.
Thursday
February 3, 2000
Hey little
guy... Kevin thinks I should play with you and mess with your
head for giving him shit at work. What can I say to that but
Homey don't play that. If you want to come here and read, I
don't give a flying fuck, but if you choose to berate Kevin
at work... I am warning you once and only once. Quit giving
him shit or I will show you what a true Clay I can be. I have
about 200 regular readers here and the only person you hurt
by being a little dick is Kevin, and frankly I don't want to
hear it. I almost broke up with him a while ago because you
like running your fucking mouth and saying whatever the fuck
you want... Kevin can say things to make me not be upset with
you in person, but this is my turf and you don't go fucking
with it. Period. 200 readers little guy... and I will say whatever
the fuck I want if you push my buttons and believe me... I am
still very much my father's daughter no matter how much I would
like to forget that fact.
Saturday
February 5, 2000
Sorry
little guy... Kevin neglected to tell me that you are a fan
until today. Still... don't give him shit... give him pork,
the other white meat!
I could
and will try to write a marathon today for today I feel this
tidal wave of stories to get out. You are going to have to bear
with me... it might not all make sense.
Looking
for a magazine to read just a moment ago as I took a big dump
I picked up my new issue of Discover magazine and somehow my
fingers flipped right to the section on headaches. As I started
reading... everything I have been told about headaches was just
a fucking lie. I couldn't help but start crying because I knew
there was something really wrong with my head and that nothing
they do or give me helps control my headaches.
I have
been told there was something wrong with me mentally, I have
been called a liar, I have felt like maybe there really wasn't
anything wrong with me except for the fact that I have this
fucking thing in my head that sits there like a bubble just
waiting to burst.
And I
am reading this article... and this guy is doing research and
he finds a patient that has a predictable migraine and then
all of a sudden a shadow moves across his brain and they see...
they fucking SEE WHAT'S CAUSING IT! I started bawling. Me sitting
there in my fucking cold bathroom taking a dump and crying because
I AM NOT FUCKING CRAZY and it's my FUCKED UP brain that is causing
me pain and there isn't a FUCKING THING in the WORLD they can
do about it... I fucking hate doctors. Melissa was always right...
they don't know 1/10 of how the brain functions. Sure you can
define the regions and what they do, but you can't predict jack
fucking shit about any body's brain because we are all different.
Our chemistry, our DNA... they can't map all that shit out because
they do not have the technology quite yet and as far as the
medical community is concerned, their methods are outdated.
Think
about it. If technology changes as much as it does and my fucking
6K 1998 292 MHz Apple G3 is outdated... then what the fuck is
going on in the medical community?
Do you
think your doctor has the time to sit on their ass and catch
up with the latest in medical technology AND have a personal
life?
So we
went to Danville last night to see Pop and Granny. The drive
there was just umm kay but after being fed fried chicken it
got better. Pop and Kevin do have one thing in common, wrestling.
So they watched that and Granny showed me what she had fixed
for Anne. She fixed my Prom dress and I put it on.
We sat
around for a while and I forgot Julie's number so we couldn't
go see her. Granny and Pop went to bed so we sat around and
talked and watched Duckman. It was a very good night.
We talked about some stuff and laid around and rubbed on each
other. I told him he couldn't touch me in my chest or down my
pants because you never know when they might have to get up
and pee.
He didn't
like that. So when he got real frisky I went and took a bath.
Ahhh a bath tub that is warm with warm water... kind of. Oh
how I long to have a bath tub with endless vats of hot steamy
water.
Then we
went in my old bedroom and kissed for a while until he wouldn't
kiss me anymore because his mustache is too long and it felt
weird. I rolled over and was in that stage between just falling
asleep and being asleep when I thought I heard one of the strangest
noises I have ever heard. Was someone using that bathroom? Was
this place being haunted. I shot out of bed and started calling
for Kevin. I went to where he was and he wasn't there. I started
freaking out and then I realized he was taking a leak and that's
what I heard.
I made
him lay with me for a second and then he went to sleep in his
own bed. It was a nice change of pace.
We woke
up and had oatmeal and then went shopping. Bought some shit
at Big Lots and then went to Goody's and I got so many deals.
A pair of wool pants for $8, a dress for $10 and this sweater
with these feathers around the collar for $6. I was very happy.
Kevin got 4 pairs of jeans for $50 and he was very happy.
We got
back to the house and had country fried steak and gravy and
then we all went and looked at the property my grandfather owns.
We went to Penn's
Store as well. We rode in Pop's caddy. It's such a pimp
mobile. Grey exterior and maroon interior. It was a nice drive
and seeing nature was also soothing.
Leaving
one the other hand... things haven't been right since Granny
and Pop saw my photos of my Russian gay boys. "I love you Poppa."
"IF YEW
LOVED ME you'd take those photos of yours and just throw them
in the garbage dump."
Just shut
up Pop. "You know what the bible says about that?"
Yada yada
yada. I left pissed and I don't like that.
I thought
of all kinds of stories to write about. Stories I should write
about like what it was like to be in Spain. Other more interesting
things but now I am tired and it's late... tomorrow... I can
write more tomorrow.
Sunday
February 6, 2000
Once upon
a time there was a society where everyone pretended to be someone
they weren't. No one wanted to admit that they were too fat
or too thin or too fake or too real but they all went through
these changes that made them all turn into conformists. Because
through unity in one belief or another was much better then
thinking for yourself. If someone thought differently or did
not see life through the same conformist eyes, they were ostracized.
They looked like the conformist, they ate the same food, but
their thoughts never went much deeper then why they do the things
they do. How they might change so they don't repeat the same
patterns in their own lives.
I got a
letter from And the other day. She was upset about my video.
It disturbed her greatly, as it should. She wanted to know why
I did it. Well... I gave her the easy answer. I have been thinking
about it more and if you want to know the honest truth... it's
my reaction to the shit I heard all my life about how I wouldn't
be pleasing to a man unless I had a 36-24-36 figure. It was
my way of saying "FUCK YOU" to society by hurting myself. "Look
what I can do!" I proudly pronounced to my brother the first
time he watched as I used a piece of spaghetti to make myself
vomit. I continually heard shit from my dad about my weight.
I heard it from my mom hardly ever and I heard it from my grandmother
the more I got into my teens. I was a copy cat of my mother,
so I had to be thin and pretty and make everyone love me just
because I was beautiful. I heard so much shit sometimes that
I would eat a lot of things and then just go in the sink and
barf it all up and I found that I felt better about myself.
Those
after school specials, those books and articles about annexoria
and bulimia didn't discourage me from sticking my fingers down
my throat, they fed my disease. Soon I found that society was
also feeding my disease. I wasn't good enough because I was
fat. I could never be good enough because I was never allowed
to be myself... or me as myself was just not acceptable.
MTV came
out and then you watched Madonna go through phases of where
she was cute to where she was really thin. She wants people
to like her more, so she stays thin. It's the conformist thing
to do.
Everything
I saw in a magazine, everything I saw and heard about women
on TV... they were literally tortured if they gained a pound.
What is the problem with being fat? I just don't get it.
I have
never heard a girl exclaim to me "OH MY GOD, I can't remember
the Pythagoreans theorem for my test, I am so fucked." But I
have heard many girls exclaim about how horrible it would be
if they gained another pound. How fucking stupid is that? I
have to listen to my friends complain about their weight so
much, everyone has turned it into such a fucking issue and it's
one of those things that will never change unless the Government
does something like mandate equal visibility of "fat" people
in the media on an equal basis.
I am not
thin... and sometimes I do things as I start to lose weight
to make sure I don't lose too much because I like being who
I am. I like me the way I am and when people insinuate that
I could be better in some way or another when I feel I am a
perfect Cathy Clay the way I am.
I think
there are two kinds of people on this planet. People that bitch
about other people and people that try to change themselves.
I feel like I am always trying to improve myself, so when other
people make comments about my behavior or a certain way I think
of things it pisses me off to a degree.
As Kevin
and I were driving home he pointed out that I am probably not
as skilled as employers would like for me to be... and this
is probably true but I am hoping to learn a lot more soon and
I know that if I work for myself, I know exactly what I can
and can not do. Plus I am going to have other people helping
me out so it's not all my own risk.
Anyway...
I find myself obsessing about my weight again these days. I
can still wear my Prom dress, and that is a comfort, but now
I am starting to worry why I have been spending any time about
worrying about my weight. I have been a lot bigger... have I
just noticed people saying shit to me more about it? One of
the things my asshole brother tries to hurt me with is that
I am fat because that's what my father did to my mother to keep
her under control, only it has never worked on me. I have a
stronger sense of who I am as a person then to rely on the way
I look, which is why I resisted being blonde so much for so
long. It's an artificial way to gain instant attraction for
me. I noticed people treating me different almost immediately,
including myself.
So...
this is what this society has come to. Little girls so obsessed
with doing the right thing, being the right person and doing
everything right only to fail in some way or another because
women don't talk about what it means to be a woman in this society.
How people can mistreat you or you can mistreat other people.
I feel
that I am a good person. No, I fucking know I am. I am kind,
I am generous and I am loving. It just hurts my feelings so
much because my grandparents don't like me for who I am. My
grandfather calls me Patsy still, and if it's not that then
it's Lesli or sometimes Anne. Today he kept calling me Patsy.
I don't
feel like I talk about other people's faults that much. I am
pretty easy going because I learned the day I put my mother
in the grave how this document can hurt other people's feelings
by me just stating what someone says to me the way they did
and I really have been cautious not to reveal things about other
people but things more about me.
I have
met so many men I couldn't even count them all this way. A few
still live in my heart because of the way they express themselves.
Sometimes they get insulted if I don't mention them at all while
I am sure others wished I never mentioned them at all.
With Kevin,
I knew he would be laid back enough so if I was mad one day
at him and wrote about it in my diary that he wouldn't freak
out if he ever went back and read it. He doesn't read my diary
and if he did I am sure I wouldn't say many of the things I
have said about him because they are not so good.
What you
have to remember is that by me saying that shit about him I
feel worse about myself because why do I have these feelings
and why do I express myself this way? No matter how bad my worst
day is with him, I know I can let some of the shit I have been
through in my life that continues to hurt me leak out a little
bit and for some reason or another he just lets me do it and
still wants to be around me.
I know
there are plenty of men out there that have been though similar
things I have been though, and I can completely relate to them,
but to be perfectly honest, I find it difficult to be in a relationship
with those kinds of men. There is always some reason they are
more fucked up then I am on some level. Kevin can be dull. Kevin
can be a lot of things but when Kevin is inside of me, he makes
me feel things in my heart and soul that I never knew were there.
I wish
I had more then snippets to write about because it all is such
a blur. Last night was a very good night. Sometimes I forget
to wear deodorant. It doesn't happen often but it does happen.
Today I forgot. I usually can cover it up by taking a bath or
doing little to get me all sweaty but yesterday, riding in the
car for so long and hanging out and moving around I was pretty
stinky so I had to take a bath. Which I totally love because
what bastard is ever going to say he won't go down on you if
you haven't got a clean cunt?
Plus I
know that if I am pleased properly and he has warmed me up by
rubbing on my g-spot before he goes in then he is going to get
a much better quality of pussy. I think this is something that
is left out of sex books everywhere. The reason you got to warm
up the pussy is to get a higher quality of pussy. If you just
want to stick it in, then go fuck a mayonnaise jar, but if you
want hot juicy cunt then you better fucking go out of your way
to keep my pussy happy. That's just the way it has to be...
I figured
something else out. Women are stingy with their bodies. They
don't want their boyfriends or husbands rubbing all over them.
Now, every woman knows you can not look at a man and feel his
soul like you can a woman and feel what is in her heart and
soul, that is if she even fucking has one. Men do not share
their feelings like women do because men do not communicate
like women do. Men like to touch and watch and that is why we
have smut mags and porn looking the way it does because we allowed
men to have it their way for so long. Fuck that noise. I know
what I like when I look at a man and it's not that shit they
run in Playgirl.
As Kevin
was caressing my body last night, I realized that this was his
way of sharing his feelings. This is every man's way of sharing
who he is and for some reason, I don't know if it was feminism
or what, but some where along the way we lost the ability to
be sensual or to express that in our nature.
Think
of all the things that you do that are sensual. What is the
one thing that is so incredibly sensual that everyone participates
in no matter what their gender is?
Eating.
If you are eating, then you are allowing yourself to feel and
enjoy one of the finest pleasures this world has to offer. Have
you ever seen a sensual woman that was thin? There is a reason
people are "ripe" verses people that aren't.
Elizabeth
once told me that most victims of some kind of sexual abuse
would often choose bulimia as their form of fighting back, only
a bulimic never realized they aren't fighting back, they are
instead killing themselves because they are denying themselves
sensual pleasure and therefore they are denying themselves their
sensuality.
I refuse
to believe that any woman thinner then me has a better quality
or a higher self worth then I do by simply being thin. I do
not put a consecrated effort into worrying about every little
(he he) thing that goes into my mouth because I am not trying
to win any popularity contests by pretending to be a woman I
simply am not. And you know those same chicks are really worried
about if they have gained any weight instead of if they are
being pleased.
I also
refuse to believe that a woman that is thinner then me, unnaturally
that is, has a better sex life then I do because you know what
I have noticed about women that worry about every fucking thing
like that? They never brag about how great their sex lives are
probably because they are not convinced themselves that they
are who they want to be.
This American
dream bullshit has so many people deceived into believing that
they can perhaps buy into a slice of what America has to offer
if they play by the rules but what they don't understand is
that it's all there no matter if you play by the rules or deviate
from them. Nothing is going to happen if you want to stand on
your own two feet and live life the way you see fit. God is
not going to come from the sky and smite us all for being ourselves.
I think what religion has come to symbolize in this country
is a big fucking joke... unless you feel that Jim Baker has
something he knows about life better then you do. You can try
to deny yourself of many of the pleasures this life has to offer,
but don't fucking condemn those of us that choose to live life
the way we want to because we believe more in ourselves.
Monday
February 7, 2000
I'MMMMMMMMMMMMM
a megalomaniac and you aren't.
I think
I am so lucky to have Kevin in my life. If it weren't for him,
I would have never known that I was a megalomaniac. I would
have thought that those times I spent feeling suicidal were
for naught because I really have delusions of myself being far
greater then I really am.
Of all
the things I can honestly say that I like about myself, there
is really only one thing I am maniacal about above and beyond
anything else and that is my photography. I just fucking know
I am good. I can look at my work and be constantly amazed. Plus
I pissed off half the community of Louisville with my work so
what can anybody say about that?
Kevin
likes to think that he is a photographer. We went out to eat
with Ed and Kathy the other night and Kathy looked at me and
asked "Is it difficult being a photographer?"
Don't
ask me... just pick a site, any web site and let's see how hard
it is to match composition, get the color just right, and all
kinds of other assorted things. It's not that easy if you want
to create an image that will live with someone in their soul.
Kevin decided to answer FOR ME and say "Naw... it's not that
hard, all you have to do is focus and get the composition."
I just
didn't even bother after that. Then he was excited to get the
photos back from the party we had so he could sit around and
brag on himself and tell me how good his work was. I'm sorry,
but I don't practice law and I don't expect him to take good
images. I never saw James' work so I don't know how his images
turned out of me but I am sure they are stellar. The only other
man I have dated that I trust with a camera in front of me is
Andy.
Kevin
will pull off a great shot every once in a while. But usually
I have to tell him how I want it taken. So instead of just admitting
that he sucks he looked at me and called me a megalomaniac.
But he
was just joking. Which was fine with me because I looked at
him and broke up with him and I was just joking.
"You really
need to learn how to not take yourself so seriously and learn
to laugh at yourself more and make fun of yourself."
Well I
don't need anyone to teach me how to do it. I think I do a great
job of it myself. A good portion of this web site is dedicated
to what an ass I have made out of myself and my ability to cope
with myself as long the way.
Maybe
I am too serious and too hard on myself. I think I need some
time alone. Maybe he just doesn't make me feel comfortable when
he does make fun of me because it's borderline abusive and joking
with someone that was raised in an abusive home in an abusive
manner is not going to make them understand they need to lighten
up.
Last night
when I jokingly broke up with him I felt like my heart was free
again. Like all this imaginary pressure was gone and I could
go back to living my life for myself and not feel bad if I want
to spend fucking 24 hours in front of my god damn computer.
He likes to watch wrestling and shit like that so what else
am I supposed to do, watch it all and be bored stiff from watching
it every fucking night of the week instead of those special
glimpses that made me think wrestlers were so unique about a
year ago?
The sad
thing is I don't want to divorce Kevin's friends. I rather like
a lot of them but he really needs to grow up some more. I used
to think I wanted to be with someone that had known stability,
and maybe I do, but I know he is not the one I want to spend
the rest of my life with, and he knows that.
I am a
wild and exotic thing and you have to treat such things delicately.
Maybe I have too much of a high opinion of myself, but since
my mom can no longer do it then someone has to.
I don't
want to be a defense attorney's wife. I was a defense attorney's
daughter and that was plenty. I will never put my kids through
what I have been put through and if Kevin's career comes first
then more power to him. I'm just not going to be his cheer leader.
I am sure
you are sick of reading about how I am going to leave him all
the time but I am not convinced he is the one I want to be with.
Not under these circumstances. There has to be a point where
I realize that the sex isn't that great to keep me involved
in one relationship because if my emotional needs are not being
met then what's the point?
I find
myself thinking some of the same things I did when I was trying
to decide to break up with Andy... he's a wonderful person,
Kevin's even a great lover and in some ways he challenges me
and lets me fall apart, but he is not as supportive as I need
him to be. Fuck the diamonds and shit like that I need a man
that has a fully developed back bone and can make me feel like
he is there for me. I am a very special person, and I don't
think I should be giving me away to just anybody.
Tuesday
February 8, 2000
I think
I need a break from things for a while. When I finish this website
I am not going to write in my diary, hopefully for a few weeks.
I know I have tried it before and it probably won't last long,
but I think I need to get through with it.
Plus I
am sure I want to break up with Kevin and I want to lick my
wounds alone for a little while.
I am sure
you haven't noticed, but I have been trying like mad to get
everything in their own directories. Maybe you have noticed.
My rollovers on my main
page are all working now like they should be... and each
letter takes you to a different directory or a different place.
I'm going
to be incorporating flash into my web page and have a few more
programs that do different things... but I am not sure I am
going to keep writing my diary. Too many of my friends come
here and read it and I am feeling lonely because they peek into
my life and know how I am doing and then forget to let me in
on their lives... so I am missing a lot of things going on,
Like my nephews. I know I can't do it for long though but I
want to put my energy one building up more photography pages
instead. I don't have hardly any meta tags on my stuff so I
need to do that shit some more.
If you
have any links to any of the pages you might have to ask me
where they went because I need to shift my directories around
again and delete a bunch of shit I don't need on this web site.
I would really like to keep doing it when I can and in order
for me to do so I have to take time away from my diary.
Plus I
have had many many compliments on my entries lately and I want
to stop now thinking I have said something everyone can relate
to for a little while and try and see if I can start writing
like that some more. It won't happen until after V-Day though
that I start my little break.
Thursday
February 10, 2000
Sometimes
when I start to get this suicidal... I think of people going
to my funeral and how it would make them feel to see me lying
in a casket. I used to always use Zack's face, because I knew
he would be really hurt and the thought of that was just so
unbearable that I couldn't think of it that much anymore.
Lately
when I think think about going upstairs and getting Kevin's
gun and going into my bathroom and blowing this fucking pocket
of air out of my head I don't care who's feelings I hurt because
I took it upon myself to take my own life.
Bo told
me yesterday that I can't blame anyone for my dad rejecting
me but my dad. He wanted a new life where he could pretend he
wasn't such a fucking insensitive monster and he could come
home to people that cared about him. I pity his wife because
she had nothing and all she saw him for was providing her with
a better quality of life which was just a hoax. I'm sure in
some way, shape or form she is miserably happy in her own special
way. Money, after all, is a great deal of solace.
It's not
like I really want to die. I just don't see the point in living.
I try to be strong and be a bitch and live my life the best
way I can by being myself but these days, I am finding it very
difficult to take any solace for who I am as a person. I find
it very difficult to take solace in much of anything.
I could
think of what it was like to hold my mom in my arms as she died
and how she fought so hard for so long to stay alive long after
she was really dead. Knowing she didn't have a choice always
makes me feel a little guilty.
I wake
up and do what ever little bit I have to do in order to keep
myself moving. I already have another client lined up for next
week to do their web page and I am hoping that will be enough.
I think
besides my mom there is really only one other person who loves
me unconditionally, maybe two. Maybe three. So I keep thinking
that if I were to go and kill myself, I would also in essence
be killing a part of them that lives inside of me and that makes
me feel even worse because then I feel guilty for ever feeling
this way to begin with.
I wonder
if I should check myself into a mental institute again. Be pumped
up with Prozac to make these feelings subside until I am off
it once again but then I think about how much I would hate to
pay to go into one of those places... and I haven't pain my
health insurance this month :)
Well,
there. I got myself to smile. I need to travel. I can't stand
being in this place anymore. I think I am going to move to San
Francisco because that is the one place where I felt so safe
and so happy. I can't stay here just to keep the torch lit for
my grandparents. Like Granny said to me not long ago I am not
hers so she won't do for me like she did for her own but that
goes both ways... she is not my mother and I can not live my
life trying to placate her as long as she is living. I think
she has lost the will to live anyway because she always talks
about dying.
I honestly
can't figure out why I let myself start feeling this bad again.
I can't rationalize it out. You know, living with brain damage,
no matter how slight, has got to be one of the hardest things
to do. You can never explain your actions because you don't
have control over the helm. There are many things you can control,
but there are more things that you can't. One of the reasons
I am so outgoing and so verbal is because I have noticed that
if I am quiet and blurt something out then people look at me
weird, but if I am loud then people don't have then tendency
to say that's because I am brain damaged... it's just because
I am weird.
I feel
much better then when I started this. I don't have the urge
to die anymore but to just sit here and laugh... maybe take
a nap. I have a headache you know... ha ha. I can't remember
the last time I didn't. Maybe when I was a teenager oh so long
ago.
I want
to think about what I was like when I was traveling alone through
Europe. I liked me the best then. I was very proud of myself.
I have to figure out how I am going to get to San Francisco.
Maybe if I am lucky, I can stay a few weeks with Conni, until
I find a job. I don't want to think about moving but staying
here... I'm already dead.
Friday
February 11, 2000
Supposedly,
it is over. All the angst and frustration I felt released in
a ball of fiery tears. It was the best break up I have had.
It was calm and Kevin asked if we could be nice to one another.
He had been thinking it was just time to break up too... so
it's not like I was the only one thinking about it.
It still
fucking sucks. I hate feeling like this. I was trying to suppress
myself to a greater degree. I think that's why marriages don't
work... they interfere with people's personal freedom. Watch
the man show some time... guys hate having their personal freedom
taken away from them, they ever resent it.
I don't
know if women do too. I know I resent trying to fit into a role
that is not comfortable for me. Anne would cry to me that someone
told her that she was not the type of girl you marry because
she is so pretty. I would hate to feel that way about myself,
but in a way I find that I have desires and feelings that can
not be sated by one man alone. Or if there is a man that can
meet all of my needs I have yet to know him personally.
I feel
bad for Kevin because a lot of the stress between us came from
his job and just being so fucking tired all the time, but as
he said tonight he always uses work as an excuse of why he doesn't
behave in a certain way.
I also
told him that I didn't want to have kids with him because he
really wants to be a defense attorney and to be perfectly honest
I'm not sure I want children and I sure as hell wouldn't want
the to know the kind of life I had known as a child. Not even
a tiny fraction.
I'm not
saying that Kevin would do the things my dad did to my mother
but I see a pattern developing that I don't particularly care
for and I don't know how to get out of it.
Kevin
said he started to feel like I wasn't meeting his needs and
I am sure I wasn't. He won a trial not long ago and he sat there
and started talking about all the things he did for me like
I wasn't good to him and didn't give him things he has never
had before... like making him chocolate chip cookies after having
a fight.
I know
I am not the most emotionally stable person on the planet. I
can't control my mind as well as I wished I could sometimes...
but it's not a surprise to me every time I act out of character
because I know I can't always control myself no matter how hard
I try. I was so good before mom died... and ever since then,
it's like I have lost a part of me that helped keep me regulated.
In a way I really miss that about my mother. In another way
I realize it was a form of emotional abuse.
I decided
a while ago, as a girl that I would never leave someone the
way my parents divorced. I don't think I have mentioned much
of that time of my life. It was so horrible. It was so bad.
I could never understand why my father wanted custody of us
because he was so strict about some things... and so easy going
about others.
He didn't
want us smoking. He didn't care if we drank. It didn't bother
him that we cussed one another out all the time. We never fought
in front of him because if you pissed dad off you would be crying
by the end of the night.
I remember
him threatening to kill her. I remember crying in second grade
to Mrs.. Watson about how he would threaten her life. I thought
that if he was so mad at her to say that there was no way he
would never feel that way about me. His rage was just so oppressive.
One time mom came and picked us up at my Aunt Martha Ann's and
he started throwing her up against the car. I remember sitting
in the back seat of the yellow spitfire convertible and her
body hitting the canvas cover and us screaming.
As I got
older I didn't care so much about the physical abuse. I would
much rather have someone beat the shit out of me because bruises
go away but emotional abuse is a life long mind fuck that I
think is virtually impossible to come away from.
That's
why when I get really proud of myself sometimes... I realize
that I have worked so hard to accomplish something out of my
life because I was so abused. I wish I could wave a magic wand
and make all the hurt go away... but it never will.
My dad
fucked my mom up so bad that she never bothered to think of
marrying another man. My dad used women so badly. Mostly his
secretaries. I am surprised no one had ever hit him with a sexual
harassment law suit. I learned that I slowly never meant a lot
to him. He didn't love me like Thomas or Anne because I looked
like my mom. I can't tell you how many times I stood in front
of him with my heart breaking.
I could
tell I was breaking Kevin's heart today, and in essence breaking
mine as well because we are not who we envisioned what we wanted
to be. I think we both impeded too much on each other's personal
freedom. I felt bad when he told me I wasn't meeting his needs
either... but the truth of the matter is he never told me what
those were.
Saturday
February 12, 2000
This really
sucks.
Sunday
February 13, 2000
Sometimes
I forget that no one else can lead my life. I feel like there
are so many stories out there of the way people have behaved
that I forget that there is only one person that has seen or
done the things I have that make me who I am. No one else knows
what it's like to look through my brain damaged eyes.
Sometimes
I think I get my head stuck too far up my ass as well. I concern
myself with other people's lives much more readily then I should
when I should just be taking care of myself.
I saw a
hawk today as I was driving to Lesli's today. It was in the
trees, kind of hiding and I caught its predatory talons out
of my peripheral vision. I thought to myself how I am free now.
Free to be myself again and it made me sad to think that I had
made too many compromises in our relationship to remain true
to myself. I became dependent on him just as I had become dependent
on Zack and I have since then remembered that I shouldn't do
things like that. There is really only one person you can trust
on the planet and that is yourself.
It's strange
how even though I am hurting like I haven't hurt in a while,
I still feel such elation from being free once again. Like a
ton of bricks have been lifted off of my shoulders. I also had
another eye opening experience about being a parent. Issues
I don't care to deal with at least not at this point in my life.
I think being a parent is one of the most admirable things you
can do, I just know I am not ready for it... nor am I ever going
to be sure I want my own kids.
Sometimes
when I think about what other women went through for their kids,
I know in my heart I could never give up so much of who I am,
at least not at this point in time. I would want to have time
to myself too much... maybe with just one that would all be
ok but then again, when I have been around people that were
only children I get the heebie jeebies.
My mother
was an only child. She was doted upon and... Bo was talking
to me the other day, or was it someone else, now I do not remember.
Anyway, someone told me the other day that you never want a
girl that was always considered to be beautiful to be your girlfriend
because she is told all her life how beautiful she is and then
she still expects to be treated special because her family doted
on her.
I think
I do this except for different reasons. I would go to my mom's
and be treated different because I looked like her and my dad
treated me bad because he was a dick and so I always had this
tension going on... I was always doted by my looks for different
reasons. Either in a satisfactory or an unsatisfactory way.
I think this is something I have carried into my adulthood that
I need to get over.
I think
there are many things I need to get over. I wish I could wake
up tomorrow morning and make a consecrated effort into thinking
a different way tomorrow, but I know I will just be myself.
I was reading
somewhere recently that most people see themselves as being
a good person no matter what they do. Serial killers see themselves
as good people but with a bad habit and for some fucked up reason,
I could see how they could be law abiding citizens that help
out people in their community every once in a while.
Ever since
I was caught in a closet when I was 8 with a boy, I thought
I was a bad person. I have always thought I was a bad person
because I was constantly told what I was doing wrong by my father.
Nothing was ever good enough and unfortunately, some of those
attitudes have matured with me into adulthood.
Going back
and fixing shit that was wrong, repairing your psyche from traumatic
events that happened to you as a child seem to be what is plaguing
most of society. Someone is a dick at work. You don't know why
they are, maybe they haven't been fucked in a while or maybe
they weren't cared for by their parents as children or maybe
the only problem there was is that they were never allowed to
be the people they were born to be but forced to react to a
certain way or grow up before they were ready.
People
are always pretending to be someone they aren't in order to
be more socially acceptable. I was an outcast as early as elementary
school for my parents divorcing and my dad taking us to the
barber to get our hair cuts. You name it, there was no chance
in hell I was ever going to be accepted by my peers. I used
to go home and cry because I could never understand why they
would pick on me so hard. It wasn't bad enough that I wasn't
getting the nurturing I needed at home, but then I didn't have
any friends as I grew up.
After being
thrown out and or running away from my father's house at 15
and under going so much ridicule as a child I finally decided
that there was nothing that I could do that would ever make
me socially acceptable.
And by
this time, there was nothing I wanted from life but to be different
because as long as I could do things other people weren't doing,
then I knew I would always lead an interesting life.
After feeling
like I was confining myself to a relationship once again, I
started to feel like I quit growing in some ways. Maybe we were
just having too much sex and not trying to do other things that
would have made me happy. I just don't know...
Anyways...
I feel much better then I did 4 days ago. I am a little tender
from having a piece of my heart broken, but in a way I feel
like I have come back to being who I was even before mom died.
I am hoping I can gain some of those organizational skills once
again.
Jen told
me the other day that most people don't have control of their
minds, that it's not just me... but there are things that I
think and things that I feel that just don't seem like anyone
I have ever talked with even considers them... but then again,
maybe I am sticking my head up my ass again and I need to pull
it out ;)
Thank
you for those of you that attended my chat today... it was a
lot of fun!
Monday
February 14, 2000
My bloody,
bloody Valentine! My cunt is cramping my sweet Valentine...
I wish
I could be sad today, because I don't really have a specific
Valentine... I have several. My mailbox was loaded with Valentines.
Instead I am in such a good mood. I'm free to be who I want
to be and I don't have to answer to anybody but myself. I need
to think twice before I get involved again. I hate being in
a relationship.
I would
like to wish everyone a Happy Valentines Day in a special way,
but instead of writing you something sweet, I'm putting up a
poem I did not write:
Roses are red, and orchids are sweet,
And they look like the sight as I'm down near your feet,
Gazing up past your calf, 'tween your smooth milky thighs,
To that lovely soft place full of passion and sighs.
Let me kiss up your ankle your shin and your knee,
A nip on your your quadricep taking I'll be,
As I run my face higher and higher I'll bow,
Then I'll bury my face with a laugh and a growl.
Down there, yes indeed, to lap at the nectar
My tongue your legs' lovely angle's bisector.
And your back will arch high, and your legs squeeze my
ears,
(My God, now you're popping my eardrums, my dear!)
And you cry out, "Oh God, yes! Oh Jesus! Oh Heaven!"
And you'll quickly lose count, "What was that? Six or
seven?"
And just when you think that I'll stop just to linger,
No rest for you dear, 'cause here come my fingers...
So you'll thrash and you'll squirm and you'll moan and
you'll coo
As I so mischievously grin up at you.
So it's Valentine's Day, who needs chocolate or candy,
When my mouth has a present for you fine and dandy...
Mike Rosenberg |
Tuesday
February 15, 2000
I went
to do my laundry with Andy... I love going to the laundry mat
near U of L because this woman named Ludmilla works there and
she is from the Czech Republic. We sit and talk in Russian and
it makes me very happy. Tonight there was a woman also from
the Czech Republic that was there. She is working on getting
her PhD. in Engineering. Fucking blow my mind.
So we
sat around and spoke Russian and I clung to them speaking Czech.
So thirsty for that European stimulation. "You are American?"
"Yes.
200 years both sides." Blech.
"You don't
seem like other American women. You are half Russian. You are
more open."
I got
off the phone with a
Neuropsycologist today. She told me things about myself
in 5 minutes that I don't ever feel comfortable writing about,
particularly the suicidal thoughts I carry.
She told
me that was a common side effect that would never go away. She
studied Neuropsyology at Brown. She has done many head spinning
things and studied the neural as much as anyone on the planet.
She also knows what it means to be a patient.
She told
me things about myself... loss of inhibition, depression, other
things... I started crying on the phone and devoted my love
to her because she is going to help me understand myself and
hopefully understand the tiniest subtitles of my injury.
One of
the reasons I am so neurotic about keeping this thing is that
I know myself well enough to say that one day I will not have
use of my facilities because one day my brain damage will be
bad enough that I won't remember jack shit. I will never know
who I was if I don't write it down. It's not sad or depressing,
it's just the way things have to be and there is nothing I can
do to stop it. If I am lucky, I won't have to have brain surgery
ever again... and if I am not... then I will die from either
one of two things, a bullet in my head or brain cancer.
Sure I
could delude myself with things like I am ok now... but there
are things... it's like a computer network. Once a little part
of the network is missing... something takes up for it... then
you have another computer go out that you can never fix. Soon,
there are clumps missing. I can already feel it happening. My
pathways aren't wired correctly and the injured ones can't continue
carrying so much information that the dead ones are carrying.
I felt
them rip the first time I sat up from brain surgery. I felt
my brain fall back into place and it hurt like hell. They drained
that cyst and pumped it back up with air so it would support
my brain. The bones around my pituitary gland have eroded and
my pituitary gland is smushed like a Jelly Belly.
I mean
just think about it... maybe there is no feeling inside of the
brain but come on... the brain is just one big nerve.
There
are things going on my head... like having a migraine every
day, that somehow distract my brain from things it should be
doing. I mean my system is go and everything seems to work just
fine, all automated and stuff but really all you need for bodily
functions to work is a brain stem. Anesophalic children. Children
born without brains, can live up to 6 years without a brain.
However,
all the cognitive things going on... I am going to lose them
which is why I push my mind so much.
I am very
realistic about what is going to happen to me. If someone knows
what they are doing, they could probably go back and read through
my journal and interpret the spikes and valleys of my thinking.
Maybe even pinpoint a day when I start to decline.
I always
wanted to have a boyfriend that would help take care of me as
I aged... someone who would notice the changes I go through
and notice when I start to lose my mind because I know that
this is my reality, this is my life and this is what I can feel
inside of myself... and I trust me a lot more then some doctors
because I am the one living with this body...
Thursday
February 17, 2000
I have
been busting my ass these past couple of days. I'm going mad.
Bo finally figured out how he wants things to look so naturally
everything I have done up to this point is shit. But at least
the shit on display now is better then the shit that was there
a week ago.
About
my brain... I know it is sad in a way, but in a way it makes
me very happy. I am fortunate enough that I live my life for
myself and not other people NOW. I think the problem with most
unhappy women is they get into these relationships and they
think that if they put all their faith into a man that his dreams
will come true and that's good enough for them.
I was
watching the
Sappranos
the other night and his sister who I don't like looked at his
wife and said "What have you ever done for yourself?" That comment
could be made about a lot of women. Why do you believe more
in an obviously failed system then you do yourself? Does it
really benefit you or someone you love when things don't work
out to turn around and hate one another?
That's
what I have learned about being brain damaged. Life is too short
to worry about putting my heart and mind into an energy that
never seems to fruit. But that's just me being the impatient
person that I am sometimes.
For about
2 years after I had brain surgery I went from doctor to doctor
trying to find out why I had headaches. I also never understood
why I was so tired all the time. My regular physician told me
I was probably suffering from chronic fatigue syndrome. But
I knew that wasn't true. I found out from one neurosurgeon that
there is still fluid in the cyst, and it probably irritates
the tissue surrounding it. He said this is the reason I have
headaches all the time.
So there
really isn't anything they can do about that, huh? No magic
pill, nothing to tell my brain that it doesn't need to attack
itself. I mean when you think about it... that's what pain is...
it's a signal to tell you there is something wrong with your
body that needs to be fixed. I think a lot of people's pain
these days comes from ignoring the emotional part of their bodies.
I know when I started going through therapy some of the things
I had locked away all began to be released and quit hurting
me so bad. That was one reason my headaches were so bad. Now
I suppose it is just physiological.
You know...
when people try to tell me there is something wrong with my
character, or there is something not right about me I just smile
at them. I know there is no way I want to be normal... or delude
myself into believing in a system that is as outdated as the
concept our forefather's idea of what freedom meant to them.
Freedom is a concept that is always evolving. Our system needs
to evolve because like our species, it's the only way to survive.
Friday
February 18, 2000
Today...
is one of those perfect days to curl up with a good book and
lose your thoughts forever.
I worked
on the
web site until 4 am this morning. It has been driving me
crazy because he keeps changing everything but now I have it
to where I am proud enough to show it off. I still have a few
more things to do to it but other then that I am happy with
where it is now.
It is
raining cats and dogs outside. Frustrated with my computer,
I took it across the street to the Mac Group to see how
much they would charge me to fix it. I was not happy but at
least now I know how to pop my keyboard out to dust it off.
They also offer some classes that I would like to take.
I came
home kind of sad and that was when it was pouring. I called
the Mac people and told them I had complained about my computer
thingie breaking before it was out of warranty and he told me
that they would fix it for FREE!!! I am just so fucking happy
about that because I have been running this bitch off of batteries
for over a month now and it's really getting annoying.
I have
a bad headache today. When the barometric pressure changes my
head acts like a gigantic nerve center and throbs like the most
painful erection.
I am in
such a yummy mood now :)
I have
to tweak that page some more... but I am pretty happy with the
results now.
Sunday
February 20, 2000
I dreamt
I got a house last night... like the one I grew up in at my
dad's house but with a huge bathtub. It was on a hill...
I figured
out why I can't stand to live in new apartments when I started
thinking about why I chose to move into this crack house. They
remind me of my father's house and since it was an abusive place
to live I still associate new things with bad. Mom's house was
always under "renovation".
I once
had a party in high school and the most popular girl came and
she asked mom if we were renovating. I wanted to laugh. I never
thought we would ever have any money to finish that house the
way mom wanted. But by the time she died it was looking pretty
good. Except where my brother put the hard wood floors down
and left about an inch gap to the crown molding.
Every
time I go to Danville I have to hear that shit. It gets on my
fucking nerves.
I went
bowling with Kevin yesterday and his friends. At least I was
the consistent loser. I used to go bowling with my mom every
once in a while and I think the last time I went bowling I went
with Roman. I forgot how it makes me lose my grip and hurts
my arm. I don't know if that means I need to play more or not
play at all.
Then we
went and bought some bras. I spent $90 I don't have on my tits.
I also found out if I stayed a 40 D I wasn't a 40 D but a 40
triple D. That was kind of freaky.
We came
back here and Kevin made a pizza. He sighed and said "I don't
know what I am going to do with you."
I'm growing
restless. I think I want to move. I wanna leave this place.
Monday
February 21, 2000
The she
was... alive and well, talking to me just as she had so many
times before. It's hard to believe it's been 2 years. We were
at a table, enjoying the weather outside. And there was my mommy.
Giving me so much love. I started crying because I told her
I knew once I woke up she would be dead, and all the mess that
went with her dying was going to happen. I kept tell her I didn't
want to go. Maybe I even begged her not to leave me, I can't
remember.
All I
can remember for certain was I didn't want to wake up this morning.
Tuesday
February 22, 2000
It's Tuesday?
Fuck.
I think
I have completely bottomed out. I felt bad enough yesterday
that I had sex with Kevin and it was not fun. When you are under
so much pressure and stress and strain that you can't deal with
it yourself, when you share yourself with a partner and you
have unresolved issues it tends to come out in the way you make
love or even fuck.
I was
in pain last night because even though he says we are "on the
same page" I don't believe him. He is angry with me and it showed
in the way we were together last night. After he went to his
place I just cried and cried in the bath tub. Kind of like I
did when momma died.
I knew
I shouldn't have done that but I think I had to. The "it's definitely
over" fuck.
I am sick
of feeling like shit. I know that before we started dating although
I was apprehensive about not having a steady job I still felt
good about myself as a person.
If anything
I have definitely learned not to let things get so bad that
I feel like I have all day. I wanted to take a nap to just ease
myself out of the pain but I decided to do Tae Bo instead
and now I feel a surge of myself coming back on.
Andy helps
a lot. I think if I didn't have him in my life I would have
been dead long ago. I can't believe he still cares about me
as much as he does, but he is always there for me, ready to
pick up the pieces that have fallen off and attach them the
way they should be. In many ways he has taken the place of my
mom with the ways he supports me. I mean, if it weren't for
him this web page would be on some free server but he keeps
it for me.
I think
I feel much better about myself then I have in weeks now that
I worked out. I think I should put more time into myself then
I have in other people for a while. I have to send my computer
off... I wish Bo would get it together so I could complete the
hydroponics page completely.
I think
I am going to substitute teach the rest of the month. And then
I am going to go to Virginia and North Carolina to see Jen,
Elizabeth and Mikey. I am excited about that little trip because
I have been in Kentucky far too long. I am growing restless
and thank god it's warmer here and the winter is kindly taking
its leave.
Sigh...
I don't think I am ready to be in any kind of committed relationship
but I don't want to be a raving nympho either. Maybe I will
actually cool it for a while. Try and be patient even, even
though I am not a virtuous woman.
One of
the frogs in my aquarium died the other day. It made me sad.
He got his little leg hung up in the plant I let float on the
top and I guess I wasn't being a good mommy.
Lesli and
Doug got a new puppy. It's a little pug. She fell in love with
them when she saw Dune oh so many years ago. He is the
cutest little think I have ever seen.
Now I am
starting to worry if I am not manic or something by the way
my mood swings. I was watching TLC the other night and they
said that the emotional aspect of people's personalities lies
in the center their brain and since I have a pocket of air in
the center of my brain the size of a plum then maybe, just maybe
I can attribute my emotional instability to that...
Wednesday
February 23, 2000
You are
ultimately responsible for your own feelings. Anne used to look
at me and say stupid shit like "I'm not responsible for your
feelings." I don't know when she quit saying that but I am sure
it wasn't long after our responsible trip to London.
People
say shit like that all the time. They say or do shit that they
know is going to effect a person a certain way but they don't
take responsibility for their own actions and what kind of psychological
damage they might inflict.
I think
Anne also used to say that shit because Dad must have said something
along those same lines to her. He wasn't really responsible
for making us feel like shit as kids, he was just the instigator
of abuse and he should in no way shape or form be responsible
for his actions or non actions.
I started
reading a book I bought when momma died titled Reclaiming
Your Life. It's about how to get of the stupid abusive shit
out of your head that happened to you as a child.
I have
this horrible fear of abandonment. This is why I put myself
in a position to where I felt so grateful to my friends for
just being my friends that I spent way too much money on them
instead of taking care of myself and now I am fucked. I can't
really blame them because they were simply just being people
but I can take the full responsibility upon myself that some
where some time I am completely responsible for myself and I
shouldn't be dependent upon other people in order to make it
through this life. I kind of had that idea when I woke up from
brain surgery and found myself alone when there was nothing
I wanted more then companionship.
As I get
older I am starting to discover that I can find any kind of
companionship in just about anyone. I can enjoy everyones friendship
for what it's worth but there are some issues I need to resolve
within myself before I decide to begin a relationship again.
First
of all I need to really realize that just because my family
is a bunch of jerks (except for Lesli & Co. and Granny and Pop)
and they show little interest in my life that that doesn't mean
I don't deserved to be loved in a way that is special and endearing
to me. Just because they couldn't give me the love and nurturing
that I needed to grow and feel better about myself doesn't mean
I need to constantly have this overwhelming feeling that I don't
deserve this that or the other for some fucked up childhood
perception I have carried into adulthood.
I also
need to realize that I have been abandoned. Not just by my family
but my "friends" as well. Friends being the people that I thought
I could trust until the day I died. Fuck them. If they want
to share a part of my life then great, they wanna be sissy nincompoops,
then be silly nincompoops on your own time. I try not to subjugate
my friends to too much of my emotional pain not because I don't
think they can't handle it, I know they can't, but because when
you share those kinds of intimate moments with someone you sure
as fuck don't want them warped and turned back around on you
in some stupid fucked up way so they hurt you to a greater degree.
Thanks, but I can warp myself well enough without the aid of
my "friends."
I think
people do not put enough relevance into their childhood pasts,
and that seems to be a problem with most of this culture. People
want to let the past die. When I was 17 that was one of my dad's
things to say a lot. Let the past lie where it is. I am sure
now that his dad is dead he is dealing with many of the issues
he never dealt with and feeling many of the anxiety he must
have felt as a child.
You know
what I don't get? I don't get why if dad had everything as a
child why he continually decided to rebel by fucking up. His
father had to pay Centre who knows how much money to
get his sorry ass back in after failing 3 times. He was given
every opportunity but when it came to his cunts, he denied us
of everything he could. Love, money, affection. It has taken
me this long to realize that I don't have to fuck men in order
to command respect from them and that giving your secretary/girlfriend
a better Christmas then your children is WRONG.
He had
no business raising us and he knew it. My poor mother fought
a hard battle to provide for us a life she knew my sorry ass
father would never attempt to reconcile. To be perfectly honest,
I am past the point where I even want him to reconcile anything
to me. He ruined my childhood just by being the dick he was
and I will never give him the opportunity to fuck me up again.
He has done such massive amounts of damage to my psychological
well-being that I am still plagued with suicidal thoughts today.
Is any
fuck-wad worth that kind of aggravation?
Today
I can say these things, tomorrow is different. I think grieving
my childhood will be a process that never end. I think the stage
of life I am at right now is also a form of rebellion. I wasn't
allowed to be a normal teen where I got to say fuck you to my
mom and do what ever the fuck I pleased because she was sick
and her doom was always a reason I decided to be a good girl.
Her death
was always hanging over my head and I had to be good plus when
I was sick I became so afraid that I didn't even want to push
the limits. I can't say that I hate myself for being that way
because that was how she was and I refused after a while to
buy into that bullshit.
I think
as she closer to dying she felt like she had made some kind
of mistake with me. That I was too independent. That's like
saying the pope is too Catholic. Just because I choose to use
my mind for things other then what seem to consume this society
I am considered a freak? I have met women twice my age that
are just now dealing with some of the issue I force myself to
contemplate now instead of when I am 45 and unhappily married
and living with some man sucking the very life out of me. I
think I would hate myself much more bringing children into this
world knowing that I could not be the kind of mother they deserve
to have.
I'm not
even sure I ever want to be a mother. I used to tell my mom
I didn't and she would say "well Lesli used to tell me the same
things." I was a Tom boy growing up that made her Barbie dolls
fuck instead of nurturing my doll babies and being all girlie.
Anne was all girlie.
When my
father bothered to buy me clothes, they didn't fit me. It's
like he was sending this message that I needed to lose weight
in order to fit into who he wanted me to be. I was never allowed
to be myself. As an adult I still don't feel comfortable being
myself, but I am slowly beginning to learn that I can be "bad"
and it has no bearing on weather my mom is going to die or not
because that bitch is dead. She tried to make up for all the
damage my dad did to us, but by doing that, she gave up on herself
as a person and that is just horrible. Unresolved issues have
a way of manifesting themselves in your life in way your could
never expect.
Respect,
they say, is something that is earned. So does that mean you
constantly have to earn your own self-respect? Shouldn't that
be an inherit right?
Mourn,
mourn, mourn... it seems this mourning process is one that will
never subside. I just wish I could realize that through mourning
and grieving I am trying to gain a greater self-respect for
a person I should admire more then anyone else.
Sunday
February 27, 2000
It has
been a very busy couple of days. I got to meet Ang in Danville.
Their team kicked Centre's ass. It made me happy for her team.
Plus Anne was at my Grandparents last night too so that was
awesome. We have been having some problems so it was nice to
get some of that shit worked out.
I subbed
with Lesli on Friday and that always makes me happy.
So...
I went back to Ang's hotel and we sat around with her team mates
who were, for the most part, in their early twenties. I felt
a little weird but broke the ice really well when the coach
was talking about her boyfriend and how she wasn't sure if she
was going to coach again and she was talking about her boyfriend
and how she wasn't really sure she was going to stay for him
even though "he's so hot."
I asked
"Does he have a big dick?"
At first
there was complete silence and then when everyone processed
"Oh my god... she really said" they all died laughing. It was
awesome. It was awesome hanging out with a team. It was more
awesome seeing Ang. I have been writing to her for almost a
year and it was just happenstance that they got to play in Kentucky.
It was
nice spending time with a beautiful woman that has her shit
together and is confident in her decisions about life. I think
if more women could feel this way there would be a lot less
shit going on. She was apologetic because she didn't want to
come across as being arrogant, but I told her not to apologize,
that I understood why she was that way and she had every right
to be so fucking cool. I wish I could have spent much more time
with her... hopefully I will get to go to Austin this summer.
Granny
tried to give me a lecture about how lucky I was today. I told
her how I talked with a Neuropsycologist and she was like "You
should go to a rest home so you know how lucky you are." I 'm
sorry but I am to the point where I just am not going to use
that kind of shit to make myself feel better. She can do it
because she is older but I am not going to put myself through
that shit.
And naturally
I am much too uppity because I refuse to take a shit job. I'm
sorry but I fucking have confidence in myself and my abilities.
I don't give a fuck so much these days if I have a fucking job
like I have been.
I have
wasted too much time being sad about it so I suppose I will
continue along the same vein and just free lance for a while.
I'm managing thanks to the kindness of Andy and I don't feel
bad because I took care of him when we were together.
I went
to a PD party on Friday with Kevin because Ed called me up and
asked me if I was coming. I wore my new sweater I got for $6
at Goody's that has those obnoxious feathers around the
neckline. In combination with my tits, it looks ridiculous.
I thought
I would be soooo incredibly uncomfortable, but I talked with
Tara for a while and gained a greater respect for her. She studied
in Toledo for a semester and has done all kinds of things. I
actually agreed to photograph Mike and Tara's wedding. It's
going to be in BFE and I am rather excited about it. It will
be in October so it will be very pretty.
So the
whole purpose of the party was to give out the walker awards
for the defenders that walked people. It was also Jim and Mark's
last day at the PD office, which was sad.
I got
to talk to another new PD's girlfriend about our frustrations
with being a PD's girlfriend and it was nice to hear what she
had to say because we are both at the same point with one another.
Sure the PDs have one another to bitch about shit going on at
the office but I can't talk to my friends about how much it
sucked so it was nice to have the support.
I can't
imagine ever working for someone and being that stressed and
that unhappy but then I have kind of prioritized my life so
that I never have to put myself in that kind of position. And
then I bitch because I don't have a job I can bitch about.
But I
feel more myself lately. I feel much better about myself then
I have this month. I was trying to figure out why I have been
so fucked up and then I remembered some of the anxiety I must
be feeling is because I put my momma in the ground and the apprehension
does not go away so easily.
Monday
February 28, 2000
My computer
is more fucked then I imagined. When I called today on the status
of it the operator told me that they found a lot of problems
and they were going to check and make sure that it was something
due to the problem I already had. It makes me a wee bit nervous.
Also...
I don't know if you noticed or not but my web page has changed
servers. I was very apprehensive about this and I wanted to
have a ton of new directories but that didn't happen because
my computer is still at Apple.
I am very
scared. I have this symbiont relationship going with my computer
and I hate that I have to suck it's life force out like this.
I feel a little lost and hope my computer misses me just as
much as I miss her...
You know
a computer is a woman because they call them "boxes" and since
there are so many fucking euphemisms for cunt. I love cunt the
most though. When you use that kind of terminology you know
you aren't referring to anything but a woman's box. I mean how
often do you hear someone talking about a cow's cunt?
A pussy
has too many euphemisms.
God I
feel so odd these days...
Tuesday
February 29, 2000
So...
What did I do with my extra day today? I sat on the Internet
and fucked around for a while and then I went to Louisville
Hydro and tweaked his site even more. He only paid me a fraction
of what I needed and now I am not going to have enough money
to cover my rent and I am quite pissed about it but there really
isn't anything that I can do.
The next
sites I have been comissioned to do I am charging by the hour
so at least I figured that shit out. And I can thank Bo for
putting me in contact with my next client so it's not like I
can be that pissed.
I can't
wait to get out of here. I think I am going to hit North Carolia
first. I think I am going to leave on Sunday too. I thought
I would wait and go later but I think I just want to leave now.
I am starting
to feel uneasy and restless to a much greater degree. Like something
has got to give.
