Saturday
January 1, 2000
I was
quiet most of the ride home. I didn't really want to come back.
I picked
up the phone to check my messages.
"Cathy,
it's Anne. Dad wanted me to tell you Grandfather is dying. Call
me blah blah blah." This was left on Tuesday.
Thank
God Kevin had already told me he was dead. Thank God I didn't
check my messages before I left Chicago. I was not happy with
this message. I hate it when people don't leave messages like
"it's urgent that I speak with you" instead of laying it all
out on the table.
So the
new year starts off pretty much in Cathy Clay fashion. Zack,
Meredith, Kevin and I went to the Connection. I was not going
to spend another year sad and in my house. I should have stayed
in Chicago but Zack has shit to do and I really, really don't
want to impose upon him any longer.
I was
totally ripped by midnight. I kissed people just to kiss them.
I acted like a fool, got mad at Kevin for being a dick. "What's
wrong?"
"This
isn't my element yada yada yada"
"Well
I am having a good time and my fucking grandfather died today."
I got
up and stormed off. Am I the only fucking person on the planet
that honestly tries to take into consideration what other people
think or feel?
I have
spent the last couple of years doing what makes other people
happy, or placating them in some form or another and I am fucking
sick of it. I am sick of myself and sick with "humanity".
Most of
all I am sick of my sister. It seems that nothing I do or say
or anything I do makes her understand who I am any better. We
have no common ground and no communication skills. I am so sick
of biting my tongue and sparing other people's feelings. I don't
give a fuck anymore. Which you know is a total fucking lie.
So the
moment I have been waiting for for the last couple of months
has finally arrived. Now my father will understand just how
much it fucking sucks to lose someone he cares about. Sure you
can rationalize it that he was old and other shit but I am sure
it doesn't make it any better.
I think
I have been denying myself the one feeling I always tried to
smother. I think I am angry again. I think this is a good thing,
but when I get angry I have a tendency to erupt like Mt. Vesuvius.
I am just sick of being angry with myself. I am sick of taking
the blame.
We came
home and I puked like I have never puked before. Sticking my
fingers down my throat to rid myself of the toxins.
I have
to hand it to my grandfather. Even though he had nothing to
do with me at least he proved that he was a true gentleman and
died with father time. Fuck 99.
Sunday
January 2, 2000
Anne and
I made up on the phone. I think we are both feeling bad. Her
9 year is coming up.
I have
been thinking about the feelings I have had in my life that
were not safe to explore at an earlier time. This week I am
thinking about the day Anne was first diagnosed with leukemia.
All leukemias are bad, but hers was one that killed and has
killed many people. She is very lucky to be alive.
Anne had
been going to the doctor for months complaining that there was
something wrong with her. It was about the time Jim Henson died
and she was told that she was suffering from strep throat all
the way to lupas. They couldn't figure out what in the hell
was wrong with her.
Then Dr.
Little did some blood tests and it came back positive for leukemia.
I don't think my heart has ever been as broken as it was that
day. I hope to god nothing could ever hurt me like that again,
but I know it can happen again. I laid in Cathy Thompson's arms
that day and cried and cried and cried like I have never cried
before. I was only 18 and I was still recovering from life after
brain surgery.
Anne came
to the hospital to see me and she sat there and cried from the
sight of me. IT was awful. I never wanted anyone to be hurt
like that again so when she got sick, I didn't cry in front
of her. I didn't want her to know what it was like to feel the
way she had made me feel.
I never
told her how much it hurt me to watch her suffer. I think she
still believes she suffered alone. I think I still hold a lot
of resentment towards her because she acts like we didn't care
about her and that simply was not the case. How can you love
someone that continually pushes you away?
Last night
Kevin and I went Salsa dancing with Jacinta, Carolyn and Mamacita.
Mamacita is so pretty and as I watched Jacinta and Carolyn dance,
I thought Mamacita must be so proud of her girls. They are such
beautiful women. Such beautiful people. I wished I had my camera
and I haven't been in the mood to photograph much lately.
Kevin
and I spent the afternoon lounging in each other's arms. Slowly
relishing each other's body. It was very erotic and then after
we went to the club, we went and sat at Riverfront park and
looked at the ugly bridges.
I would
like to write more now, but I have to go see the Green Mile.
Monday
January 3, 1999
I want
to write about the ride home... how it was so dark and we were
pelted by the rain... but it's late. I will write more tomorrow
or when I have the battery charger for my computer...
Tuesday
January 4, 1999
He touches
me these days and he does it so tenderly. It's as thought we
have given up any inhibitions we felt before now and started
to appreciate one another more and more. I let him do things
to my body he has only fantasized about.
I think
that's one of the problems. I feel like men are surprised that
women want them to touch them or fuck them real hard. It's as
though the things men imagine are forbidden in this culture,
so they keep a straight face and are pussy whipped into submission.
Which
led me to think that sure he can wear the pants i this relationship
but never forget who has the whip.
So...
I went to visitation last night and it made me very sad. Three
of his own children did not bother to come to his own funeral.
I saw my father there last night and introduced him to Kevin.
It was very awkward. I told him I was sorry and went to shake
his hand but he went in for a hug instead. I am about the same
height he is now. Funny how scared I used to be of him and think
he was so large when I was a child.
The best
part of last night was eating fried steak and gravy at Granny's.
She is still upset about my homo-erotic photos. We had a little chat about homo-sexuality
and I told her how I didn't think it was wrong. This was the
way some people express their sexuality and any kind of love
is not abhorrent in my eyes. Violence and hate is much more
disgusting in my eyes.
She offered
to buy my photographs in order to destroy them and I wouldn't
let her because that would defeat the purpose and basically
ruin my self- esteem. She did not agree. She bitched about how
awful my brother was to her about not even bothering to thank
her for her Christmas gift to him and I told her to fucking
forget about that bastard. He is not worth the breath coming
out of her mouth because he will remain a pathological liar
until the day he dies.
I am just
sick of hearing about it because there are so many better things
to talk about then what people do to hurt me as an adult. I
feel that as a child there was nothing I could do to protect
myself and sometimes I still feel helpless.
Kevin
jumped my shit about allowing other people to take advantage
of me. He also told me that I shouldn't get so worked up about
some of the things my friends say or do to bother me. None of
them are saints and nothing they say is the gospel truth. Sometimes
I forget this fact and let myself live my life through other
people's eyes or even worse, through their own view of how I
should behave. Being raised to be a people pleaser didn't help
much.
I got
this book titled Why you behave in ways that you hate
and hopefully when I am through with it I can actually practice
some of the things I am learning by not allowing things to bother
me like I am a child.
I would
love to go on and on but I am subbing today. I think I would
just like to sub for academic classes from now on. I had two
Russians in my Calculus class earlier so I got to practice a
little. I can't help them much but absolute values are easy
to remember.
My cousin
Julie told me my father was really torn up about his dad dying.
I wonder how he feels now knowing his brothers and sister didn't
care enough to even bother coming to his funeral. I wonder if
it will be an eye opening experience. I'm not going to hold
my breath. I showed him I was a better person then he is by
acknowledging the death of his parent when he didn't even bother
to acknowledge the death of my mother to me.
Thursday
January 6, 1999
I am too
tired to write anything good. I subbed the behavior disorder
kid and they wore me out.
Saturday
January 8, 1999
I don't
know how teachers do it... but they aren't paid enough.
I think
dealing with 30 children, much less adults, are difficult to
deal with on a daily basis. Dealing with 8 that have behavior
disorders for 2 days drained me completely. I can't do it...
I don't have the desire nor do I have the patience.
We went
to see Street Heat yesterday. It's a band consisting
mostly of police officers and they are trying to show kids that
they can have a good time without drugs. I think it was the
most fun I have had sober in forever and a day. (I can even
remember a time when I bought into that bullshit. Then you start
discovering those fuckers plant shit on people just because
they don't like you.) I got up and started dancing and my kids
looked up at me and were just amazed that I was being such a
goof. But I am sure they will remember me as the sub that boogied
and made them chocolate chip cookies (yeah right!)
Plus the
teacher that helped me the most knew my mom and even taught
with her. I can't tell you what a source of comfort that was.
Plus I
got hugs from three of the most beautiful kids that had I not
have substituted, I wouldn't have gotten... but looking into
a beautiful face and realizing that this little person would
never understand anything beyond what someone tells them broke
my fucking heart. So beautiful, so perfect on the outside and
so completely unaware. It makes me sad for them and more angry
with others that have the capabilities but refuse to push themselves.
I think
in the 2 years since my mom died I have figured out just who
my friends are and I feel stupid for ever being good to anyone
but myself. I should have taken better care of myself and fuck
them because that's the kind of world we live in today.
But you
live and learn and now that mom has been dead almost 2 years,
I am just *now* starting to feel like myself again. I feel like
I am ready to take care of myself better then I ever have before
and to quit being grateful for people being nice to me because
I was abused as a child.
I think
that's one of the hardest challenges I face personally.
Sunday
January 9, 1999
The lights
flashed continually assaulting those that just sat and watched.
Jacinta asked me to come out with her last night to Club
Salsa. I danced, I boogied, I did Tae Bo on the dance floor
and everyone started laughing. I got tired I sat down and I
watched other people as they danced lasciviously.
I watched
all the different couples but there was one that almost made
my heart stop. I watched as they moved together with intimate
knowledge of one another's body. She moved her slender hips
with just a little more sway then all the other beauties. Her
legs were wrapped around his and he controlled her every movement.
His hips
betrayed what kind of lover he was. He was a big man towering
over most of the men in the room. His skin as smooth as a baby's
butt and his hair dark. He still had a boyish quality about
him as well a streak of meanness that translated into a sort
of frivolous attitude as he commanded her body to move in sync
with his own.
She reached
up and caressed his cheek so lovingly. They kissed and giggled
and delighted in themselves and the world around them just seemed
to melt away. The lights, the sound, the people were all incidental
as their expressive bodies demonstrated how they felt about
one another. The tempo changed and he moved her body around
him much faster and his hips swayed in mock carnal delight.
I found
myself filled with the vapors and somehow feeling like I had
been witness to something that was forbidden. I looked back
at Carolyn in her shiny top and tight pants and we both laughed
as I fanned myself. I wished I had my camera... but I know they
will be there again next week.
Tuesday
January 11, 1999
I'm getting
paid to sit on my laptop and do my own stuff. Rocking! Of coarse
listening to all the little people do silly computer programs
is driving me a little batty, but hey... I can finish my Russian
pages!
I have
been thinking about seeing my dad a lot these past couple of
days. And I actually think that I am to the point that I just
don't give a fuck anymore. Can you believe it?
He's just
a man and no matter how far stepmothers come they will always
be evil as far as I am concerned. Cinderella had to endure hers
until she married the prince and I never had to because I removed
myself from that situation.
I am also
beginning to feel better about life then I have since mom died.
Life is a series of choices... and it can mean anything you
want it to mean. I know that my grandfather that just died,
who I didn't even shed a tear for, made some decisions so when
he looked back on his life the last time I saw him he regretted
not being there for his kids.
I felt
the same about my father. He's just a man. It's sad that he
is willing to put more into his ex-client's daughter's life
then he is someone he helped create and fuck up and almost destroy
with his own madness. At least as an adult I realize that he
is a sociopath. And I actually think the adult in me has gotten
to the child in me and made her understand that everything that
brought me to this point in time, while necessary for my development
does not reflect who I am as a person so much... or at least
who I wish to be.
I find
that me, right now at this time, I am very happy with how I
have finished raising myself. I am proud of the person I am
becoming and I know I am a good friend.
I do,
however, need to be much better to myself and not feel guilty
about it. I need to be better to my family, at least my nephews
because they are the ones that will carry how I am to them as
a child all throughout their lives. I can't keep putting into
relationships that continually yield the same fruitless crop.
I can be good to as many people that will let me but I need
to be nurtured in return so I can grow and change.
Jacinta
came over last night with Mili. Kevvy Joe made Tandori chicken
and she brought some port with her. It was a great night. She
remembers concretes better then I do. She told me that I used
to quiz her in Biology sometimes until 4 in the morning. It
made me want to cry because I don't have but a vague recollection
of that.
She's
going to be a doctor one day. She is so cultured and refined.
I admire her so much and we are forever embittered in a contest
of who can learn more Russian. I think she is always ahead of
me because she lived in St. Petersburg from 1995-1996 but then
I will always surprise either her or myself with something I
know.
I got
some of my Russian books out of storage yesterday. I think it's
about time that now that I speak it I think I can understand
the grammar better. Funny now that I am out of school I am a
better student.
I am going
to go finish my Russian pages! I am very happy with how they
have turned out so far!
Wednesday
January 12, 1999
"The lights
shimmer in pinks and greens and oranges... It looks like someone
takes a white sheet and gently waves it in the moonlight." It
was after midnight and I was walking with a German girl that
had just told me her father had molested her as a child. Aurora
Borealis was shimmering in the midnight St. Petersburg sky.
"But my
favorite is to watch the sunset is when it falls along the ocean.
And when you are overseas you watch it become a part of the
water and since you aren't in North America you feel a little
uneasy because you aren't used to where it sets."
I whispered
these words into Kevin's ears as we fell asleep. It made me
think that I am a very special lover to tell such kinds of stories.
I'm so
tired. I don't think I have the flu, but I find myself bored
with so many things these days. I was sad... but at the same
time I am so fucking excited. Jen will be here on Friday! I
scrubbed the floor and I am cleaning up everything. Kevin doesn't
have to work on Monday so we might go to Chicago.
Thursday
January 13, 1999
I am so
excited Jen is going to be here. I can't wait to spill my guts
to her in ways I can't via e-mail and the phone.
I haven't
been behaving in a manner in which I approve of lately. I have
been hard on everyone when I should remember that the only person
I should be hard on is myself. I think everyone has their character
flaws and I sure as hell don't enjoy pointing them out but sometimes
I get so full of other people's thoughts and feelings that I
atom bomb them with my feelings and that's usually only when
they have layered me with more then I can take.
I decided
I am no longer going to look for a job in Chicago any longer.
I think the way people deal with you when you have ill feelings
showcases their true character and sometimes I get mad at my
friends to see how they react. Sometimes I get mad because I
can't take it any more and when they start inferring themselves
on to me I push back.
Geoff
said that in my diary I have been happier then I have in a while.
I don't know why he thinks that. I am not terribly happy with
the way things are going in my life. I feel completely out of
control and dependent. Maybe I am not as lonely as I was when
mom died, but to be perfectly honest, I don't think I can ever
be truly happy. I think in order to be happy you have to be
blissfully ignorant of many things that life has to offer and
as you have read when one issue is resolved, another takes it
place.
I can,
however, hope to find a sense of calm and peace in my soul...
and hopefully not worry about something dreadfully wrong to
happen.
I am really
good at masking my feelings and since no one has ever pin pointed
me about how I feel about something as it is happening then
I hold it inside and sometimes it festers there and is never
released unless someone pushes one of my buttons and then the
atom bomb of emotions comes down on them and I don't care what
they think or how they feel because some of the things they
have done or said have hurt me so much.
I know
one of my character flaws is that I believe too often that people,
especially my friends, are just as honest with me as I am with
them and that's just not the case. I think people lie all the
time to deceive themselves of the truth... and to me that is
the biggest waste of time and energy. Forcing yourself to believe
in a lie does not make that lie go away but is grounds for many
more layers of lies to come. That is not the kind of life I
wish to lead.
Zack likes
to tell me how to live sometimes and although I love him as
I have no other man, there are still some things I can not respect
because he lacks certain life experience. I try not to hold
it against him, but I can't live my life to suit him as I have
in the past. I can only suit myself and if that is not good
enough then there is nothing I can do to make other's happy.
I can try to make their lives easier by not saying hateful things
or acting in a hateful manner and that's about all I can do.
And try to be sympathetic.
I feel
like most of my life I have been a servant to other people's
emotions and whenever I express my own, they are usually not
considered or I am forced into a role established by women before
me. Fuck that. I'm back to thinking that if someone wants the
best out of me then they are going to have to give me the best
of themselves and I don't think Kevin does this for me.
I promised
myself I would make it through the holidays with him and I have
but we went out last night to eat and he treated me like I was
a child. I know that people make mistakes, we all do, but I
also and not so blissfully ignorant not to realize that we are
so different that I don't feel he has as much to offer me as
I do him. Maybe I am a cunt because I refuse to buy into this
societal bullshit but I think I fucking deserve to be treated
like a princess because the feelings I have in my heart are
so much a part of the person I am fundamentally. Everything
that has ever happened to me lives inside of me at every moment
and I can pull up an index of every emotion, every image, every
sensation, every abuse, every moment I have suffered. I do not
lie to myself to make those feelings go away, because in all
honesty they never do. Sometimes they can be less painful depending
on what I am doing, but they are always there.
As I write
my welcome page everyday, I can see, feel, smell and know exactly
how I felt the day I write about and all of this is possible
because I have a photograph to remind me of that instant.
So...
every once in a while when I start to feel suicidal I have to
remember that I am involved in a situation in which I am not
happy... and I have not been happy for sometime. Maybe I will
never been happy because I do not get pleasure from many of
the things around me because I have such a fucked up sense of
humor.
Then again,
maybe I am just tired and I need a nap.
Friday
January 14, 1999
Jen is taking a shower. This is the most amount of time
we have gotten to spend with each other in person since we started
writing a while ago. I found her on Mike's
page I think when I would lay in my bed at St. James court and
mope about mom dying. Her's was the first site I found that
make me really happy. I could identify with her plight because
I felt like I was stuck in a village being here in Louisville.
She had
some time and I have time as we all know so she asked me Tuesday
what I was doing this weekend and I told her I wasn't sure.
Kevin had Monday off so we were thinking about going out of
town. He wasn't sure if he was going to trial or not so I told
her to come on up and if Kevin wasn't sure about it then at
least I could have one of the best weekends to date of this
year. I wouldn't spend it laying around and fucking Kevin all
weekend because now it seems that that is the only time he feels
relaxed enough to service me in the manner in which I deserve.
Although he did service me the day Jen and I were talking about
her coming here. And it was some much needed servicing and you
know twice in one night on a work night is always good.
So we
went to the Mayan Gypsy and talked and talked until I
didn't realize how late it was. She offered to pay for mine
and I had to hold back my tears because no one has ever done
that for me so willingly and shit like that touches my heart
so much. I sat and just listened to her talk and delighted in
everything she said. She was so overwhelmed about being there
that she gave off the most delightful energy... here she isn't
such a freak as she is back home and I love to listen to her
talk. She has the most beautiful Southern accent you have ever
heard with a slight lilt. It's the kind that my grandmother
Clay tries to do even in her own age to pass herself off as
a genteel Southern lady which I know is a crock of shit. But
hearing it come from Jen and knowing it's real puts a smile
on my heart.
She told
me that she has a video her sister in law took the second she
saw me at her wedding and she tells me that means so much to
her... and then I remember that I have just recently developed
the film from her wedding and I hadn't even told her I had photos
of her yet.
We went
out to see my mom and then we stopped by for a few drinks at
Lesli's and looked at mom's house and said "So that's where
psycho pump lives." And I died laughing.
"You know
Kevin saw him today and called him a goober. It seems that he
is medically infirm and can't do his community service for committing
a felony. Kevin said he was limping around and looked like a
space cadet and was greasy."
We laughed.
When we first got to Lesli's the boys were on the couch and
Lesli shouted "DON'T KISS THEM!" They had been puking since
Tuesday. We sat around and chatted and Jen is just so god damn
funny. I keep trying to slow this weekend down but I'm afraid
it's going to wizz by so quickly.
Marie
called me earlier and asked me if I would go to Chicago... I
need to call her...
Monday
January 17, 1999
So Marie
has a friend that lives in Chicago that also makes violins and
violias. Marie took up the violin so she wanted to trade in
one of her violias. We ended up going there and found the COOLEST
fucking store, The Mexican Shop in Evanston. Call me
shallow, call me a bitch but after Kevin bought me a dead rose
I told him that was not enough for treating me like a child
the other night and made him buy me the coolest fucking coat
I have ever seen. It is from Austria and it's wool and it was
only $30 bucks. So I am happier then if I were to have gotten
a dozen roses like I deserved.
Jen had
never been to Chicago and since I rarely go downtown it was
a royal treat to walk the streets with her and Kevvy Joe except
for the cold. I am glad I decided to say fuck Chicago because
I don't think I like running the risk of having my face chapped
every winter. I fucking hate the cold and it ripped through
my mom's wool coat like it was silk. I felt the chill run though
my shoulders and down my spine and I was really fucking glad
that I did not move up there.
It was
weird being up there and not staying with Zack but since we
were staying on LaSalle we got the best view of downtown at
night. Jen said she stayed up until 2 just looking out the window.
It was amazing. On Saturday we walked around until well after
dark. We walked up Michigan Ave. and ate at some shit hole called
Blue Agave. After having real Mexican food at the
Mayan Gypsy, that fake shit does nothing for me any longer
except make me sick. I don't want to eat at "Mexican" restaurants
for a while.
We woke
up early on Sunday and chit chatted a while while Elaine and
Marie slept. When they woke up we went to this pancake house
and fuck it was the best food. I highly recommend if you are
staying in the Gold Coast of Chicago to eat at The Pancake
House. The food was good and more then reasonably priced.
Then we
all had to go back to the apartment to either put contacts in
or add more layers to our flimsy clothes. Next stop was the
Chicago Art Institute. We stared at the Impressionist
and went hay wire from there. "It's weird to see the paintings
I have seen in magazines and on TV in real life." I smiled when
Jen said this. I LOVE to watch someone that sees something that
have seen or read for the first time. Their enthuisiam rubs
off on me and I feel like I am looking at it for the first time
myself. I showed her some of my favorite artists and since Kevvy
Joe is quiet and doesn't ask a lot of questions he just trailed
behind and pointed out some interesting things to us.
We went
through the photo exhibit and you know, whatever. I have been
in museums that have much better curation then The Art Institute
so I felt like I was kind of disjointed at the end.
We walked
out and this homeless man selling Street Wise told Kevin
that he didn't want to be like Mike that he wanted to be like
Kevin because Kevin had 4 beautiful women with him. That was
it... he got Kevin's buck.
We walked
back to Michigan Ave. Again. Jen had never been on the metro
before and I told her this was the second most disgusting metro
I have ever been in and the most beautiful was in Moscow where
just about every station is a museum in and of itself. The most
disgusting metro I have ever see is the one in New York...
We kept
stopping at different stores to warm back up. We stopped at
Starbuck's and Jen had her first Chai Latte, which is
my favorite drink. For some reason carrying that down the street
kept me much warmer and the cold didn't bite as badly. I had
on my bunny hat that I bought in Russia... it's just barely
big enough to fit my ego, but I got tons and tons of looks because
of it. I was really glad I found it in my closet the other day
even if it looks like I have a gigantic white muff on top of
my head. We were heading back to the apartment when Jen kept
staring into this limo and Little Richard rolled down the window
and looked right at her and said "Hey!" I couldn't fucking believe
it! It was icing to the best cake I have eaten this month!
Kevin
pitched a fit trying to get out of the city so we stopped the
car and switched drivers. I was very calm as I can be in such
times and got us out of Chicago and almost to Indianapolis before
Kevin took over. Marie and I chit chatted a while about scuba
diving, men, and we chatted in Russian some. She said she will
teach me French if I show her Photoshop and we practice Russian.
Plus she said we should go in on Sundays and see if Beau will
let us practice some.
We got
home around 2 and woke up around noon and Jen and I have been
working on stuff for her page and now we are gonna take some
pretty photos.
Tuesday
January 18, 1999
I had
a smile on my face all day. I had a great weekend with Marie,
Kevin, and Jen and I got to substitute teach in the same school
as my sister Lesli. It made me very happy.
Jen is
so cool. We got to talk about a lot of things that mean a lot
to both of us. She has to be one of the greatest people I know.
I can't wait to go down there and hang out with her and Smokey.
Knowing
my sister was just down the hall made me very happy. She was
worried about her first day being more difficult or challenging
the the last school she taught at but the kids are well mannered
and well behaved. Noah has a new baby sitter.
I feel
like I am happier then I have been in a long time. Sometimes
I need to be around someone that has had something really traumatic
happen to them in order to have my ass bitch slapped back into
place. My stomach hurts from laughing so much this weekend.
Jen also
helped me realize that sometimes relationships fluctuate and
that doesn't mean they are over. She helped me see that maybe
Kevin and I get along just fine and I just need to chill that
if I get angry with him and show my emotions he's not going
to run away. And actually... he even stands up to me even when
I think I should always get my way. But he was wrong last week.
We had
dinner at the Chris and Elizabeth's tonight. They are going
to have a baby. Chris made some yummy Italian food.
I would
say today was one of the happiest days of my life. I just feel
so good. My hits are up, I have had hits from 66 different countries.
I got a call from Paladin today to hire me up in Chicago. Sometimes
I like to take a look every once in a while and realize things
are better right now in my life then they ever have been.
Thursday
January 20, 1999
"I can't
live like this anymore. I want to move. The trouble is I don't
know if we should move in together or what."
"No Kevvy
Joe. I don't want to move in with you. You don't clean up after
yourself and I am not your mother."
So what
is the deal? Do guys sit around in their fantasies and think
" Man I want a woman that can fuck like there is no tomorrow,
is funny, dresses cool, has big titties and wipes my ass?" Fuck
you. If you are making bank where I can sit on my ass and do
whatever the fuck I want then maybe I will clean, but I'm fucking
brain damaged... I have a hard enough time cleaning up after
myself and I don't want to clean up after anyone else... ever.
Switch
to yesterday. "I'm going to take some time off and clear a day
where I can clean up my apartment and do the dishes." Yeah yeah
yeah. And I have exactly 50 cents to buy a bridge.
I took
him a bunch of chocolate chip cookies so he could pass them
out at work. Plus we had had an argument about him going to
Frankfort and missing dinner with Matt and Susan. I made 15
bean soup with some Jerk seasoning and it was so good. They
brought me some milk for the cookies because I figured that
it was going to snow forever today and there would be no school.
I was wrong. But as we kept talking, Matt told me he could digitize
video at home and then I asked him if he would digitize my bulimia
video!
So next
week hopefully I will have my video up and you will get to see
me on screen and hear me! Although the video is about 5 years
old. I'm really excited.
I stayed
home today and worked on my journal. I am trying to get my page
all ship shape and that makes me happy. Things are going well
right now but I am so incrediably broke. It makes me laugh.
I know one day I will have a job but after working last week
I am beginning to worry I will never be able to work the way
I should. I think I have limitations.
Friday
January 21, 1999
I think
I am just going to start my own business. I am sick of waiting
for someone to hire me. I already have a freelance job. So we
will see how this goes. With what I quoted him to design a web
site, he told me he would help me get other business and that
makes me very happy. If I could do about 4 web sites a month
then I will be set.
Plus no
one can tell me when to wake up or when to go to sleep and maybe
that's just the best idea I have had in a while. Anne also has
some really great ideas. And I know enough people that can help
me out in order to do things that I don't know how to do.
I need
to get out of the habit of updating my web page on the server
too. I have this bad habit of going around and tweaking stuff
that would be better off on my computer and uploaded.
I am still
exhausted from my period. I think this was the worst one I have
had to date. I felt like someone beat me on Tuesday and Wednesday.
Mike wrote
to me and told me he thinks me dating Kevin has been a good
thing. I'm not so angry and I seem to be growing. I have to
take his word on it because sometimes I just want to break up
with him and never see him again.
So far
he has been a really good man. He puts up with my temper tantrums
and my bouts of anger better then anyone. That's one thing I
can completely attribute to being brain damaged. I can't control
my emotions so easily and then I atom bomb. Another reason I
am like that is because of my father. He never let us express
our feelings because he was always first. All our frustration
and anxiety we took out on one another and he never knew how
much he hurt us until we were old enough to look him in the
eye and scream "FUCK YOU!"
I remember
when I would go home to my mom's house on the weekend she would
get on top of me and do the python move where she squeezed me
and told me she loved me until I was crying. Sometimes I would
be so angry with her because I didn't want to be touched and
then I would start crying from holding all the frustration in
from having to be raised by him. I am sure she did it to all
of us but I remember her doing it to me.
I naturally
always felt better. She would just sit there until all the abusive
thoughts would slide down my cheek and somehow I would realize
that my dad was just a fucking monster. That by feeding him
tears and hurt he felt better about himself.
I did
that to Anne a couple of weeks ago when she left a message on
my machine that dad wanted me to know his father was dying.
It pissed me off so after a night of drunken debauchery I called
her up and told her I had been in a bad car wreck but that was
a lie. I just can't deal with people calling me and leaving
fucked up messages on my machine like "Grandfather is dying
so if you want to see him you have to act now."
It felt
good to take my frustration out on her the way I felt she was
doing to me but in the long run, it made me feel worse. I honestly
don't know how my father lives with himself because he did that
to 3 people and he has never apologized for abusing us.
I guess
he also relates it back to his own abuse... and at least he
didn't lock us in closets. He did put locks on his bedroom and
basement doors by the time I was 12 or 13. He didn't want us
to wear his clothes and he didn't want to buy us any. And he
didn't want us to get food from the basement or do laundry when
he wasn't around even though I had been doing my own laundry
since I was 8.
It's like
I think of all these things... and then I think of him when
his father died... and then I think about being in Russia in
1996 and I could never figure out what we were afraid of. Most
of the Russian army consisted of kids that resembled nothing
of some of the military men and women I went to college with.
They were mostly wimps. All the big guys were in the mob. So
I kind of felt about my dad like "hmmm... what were you ever
scared of?"
I am still
angry with him because he said he would pay for my college and
that was a lie. One time I was scared... it was when he finally
decided Thomas was old enough to watch us and make sure the
house didn't burn down. School was out and he didn't get a sitter
and I called my mom. She asked me if I was scared and I told
her yes. She called child protective services on him and when
he got home he yelled at me and told me what a bad person I
was for lying. That I wasn't really scared. He went over it
and over it about what a liar is and how they are bad people
and why it's wrong to lie.
So as
an adult I look at him and think of all the shitty things he
has done to me the least he could do is not lie to me and pay
for my fucking schooling like he said he would. I mean if he
can send a Mexican drug dealer's daughter to Spain and take
her to Hawaii and pay for my felonious brother's high school
education then the least he could do is pay for my college.
But I don't think he ever will. (But as Jen said hope is free).
It seems
to me that as an adult, you carry too much of the world view
you had as a child and for some reason, it's hard to make the
inner you catch up to your adult way of thinking.
I think
I have changed a lot... I don't ever feel like I don't change.
Something will happen to me, usually something bad to make me
realize that there are certain thoughts and certain ways I don't
want to go about living my life.
Jen being
up here changed me a lot. She had to face her own mortality
by simply being pregnant. That's the first time I have felt
such amazing compassion for someone else who had been through
something I hope to never face. Plus if she didn't insist on
not having a D&C then she would probably be dead now. That scares
me. A lot.
Life is
so strange... so very very strange. Sometimes you just have
to hold on to the handles and let it have its way with you.
Sometimes you get to fight back. Sometimes you just give up
and do what they want you to.
I'm starting
to feel like I can fight again. Like I can live my life for
myself and fuck everyone else that doesn't like it.
Or maybe
I just need to remember this photo:
Saturday
January 22, 1999
One week.
One week and she has been dead for 2 years. So... in oder to
get over it I am going to seduce Kevin for the next week straight
so I can hopefully ease into next week feeling as little pain
as possible.
Last night
I seduced him languidly. We went out to dinner and saw Next
Friday and he was pissed because he didn't like it that
much. I guess it's one of those movies you wait to rent on Video.
Although I must admit, Ice Cube was looking good. I liked how
he had his beard groomed into his hair but I didn't like how
he dissed the fat girl.
We came
home and I sent Jen her nudies. I love it when people see themselves
for the first time after I take photos of them. At first my
subject feels silly. They can't possibly be any good. Then they
see themselves for the first time. It happened with Vlad
and several others.
To date
Jen has been my best subject. She doesn't believe me but when you look
at the photos you can tell.
Another
Motherless daughter
found my site last night. She's got a cute little page.
So...
seducing Kevin... We got home and I sent Jen her photos and
then I got in the bathtub. I really miss my bath tub on St.
James Ct. because we could fit both out asses into it but here
at the crack-house the bath tub is turn of the century and we
fit in the bath tub together but it isn't as spacious as the
last one.
I got
into the bath tub started to soak. I wanted to get my head wet
but since I didn't need to wash my hair I decided not to. My
favorite thing to do is to sit back and look up at the Garden
of Earthly Delights. I like it when the water is so hot
that when you move in it your skin feels like it's a little
cold. I didn't make it that hot though. I washed off and called
to Kevin "What are you doing?"
He came
into the bathroom then. I told him if he washed off I would
give him a treat. My bathroom is like a spa, as Echo puts it.
I believe in a scent for every season, sometimes for every day.
Something is surly going to entice and please your senses for
which ever kind of mood you are in. Last night I used some stuff
from H2O+
called Polynesian Pearl. I wash him off and he giggled
all the time. It was so sweet.
I got
out of the bathtub and he soon came out and we laid here just
caressing one another's bodies. His skin is soft in some places
and hairy in others. He's got a nice belly and I finally realized
that my favorite equation is f=m*a. He would fall asleep for
a second and then I would caress him and wake him up again tenderly
kissing his full lips. His skin is nicer then mine almost. I
love to rub my hand across his face and the head of his cock.
I think that is the softest part of any man's body.
I took
him in my mouth and he woke up with soft moans of pleasure.
He likes getting big in my mouth. My jaw started to hurt so
I quit and then I was demanding some attention. Although I didn't
get the attention I deserved, he did start pleasing me. After
the third orgasm I thought he would never finish. It seemed
to last longer then usual and when I am on my period, I like
it to be short and sweet.
He does
this thing... that pleases me so immensely. He makes sounds
come from my body that I never knew existed. And my favorite
part is when we are done I press my tits into his back and fall
asleep like that with him in my arms.
Sunday
January 23, 1999
Oh my
god... I just found out Kevvy Joe graduated Cum Laude. Now it
all makes sense. He went to the University of Rochester. He
majored in History and Psychology. I hated Psychology in college.
I didn't do well on the test so I dropped it. That's one thing
I used to do a lot. I would sign up for an extra class or two
if I could and if I didn't like it I would drop it. Usually
when I did that though, I ended up dropping a class I kind of
needed instead of an elective.
We watched
American Pie last night. And Lock, Stock, and Two
Smoking Barrels. I HIGHLY recommend ...Two Smoking Barrels.
It was one of the best movies I have seen since Any Given
Sunday.
I tried
to get poor Kevvy Joe to service me last night, but he fell
asleep and I stayed up and watched some sex special on HBO plus
until 3. He tries to tell me that all I have to do is rub on
him and he will wake up but that's not true. Sometimes he is
just too tired.
The funniest
commercial I saw last night was one from Australia where a radio
station used a dancing and singing penis. It slowly danced to
life and when it started singing I almost died! I woke Kevin
up for that and I am sure he doesn't remember it today.
We made
home made French Onion soup last night. It was soooooo good.
We were both crying.
I'm really
trying hard not to act weird this week, but I don't believe
I will be successful. I can already feel this DANGER WILL
ROBINSON feeling coming on. I feel like a gaping wound and
made Kevin come down here and service me earlier because I don't
really want to be left alone. Then I made him tell me sweet
things.
We were
really hitting a groove when he came. I was really getting into
it and right there when he quit. I was upset and kicked him
and he was a little pissed but how could I control myself when
I was into it so passionately? Can I help it that he makes me
horny and I just want him in me deeper and harder until I explode?
Sometimes
I feel like the weirdest woman I know. Sometimes I feel like
I am more normal then most people I could meet because I am
not afraid of myself or my desires. Sometimes I feel like a
little girl and some times I feel like an old woman.
Today
I feel like a scared little girl who misses her mommy.
Tuesday
January 25, 1999
No fucking
last night. Grisha came by after a month of not drinking. How
do you hang out with a Russian that doesn't drink? It was indeed
one of the hardest dilemmas I have had to face this year. We
went and saw Any Given Sunday And now he tells me that
he is running off to Russia to go pick up a girl and marry her!
I almost had a heart attack.
I looked
at him like a dumb ass and said "Do you think she will like
me?"
I answered
myself with "Duh, you are like one of the few American girls
she can communicate with!" She is fluent in French. I have forgotten
her name though.
Grisha
show me a bunch of site where you can get a free $15 here, order
stuff on planetrx.com
and enter the secret code of bnbox as a coupon and save $15.
(I bought 12 Mach 3 razors for a little over $6!). So we had
a lot of fun shopping on the net last night.
I'm kind
of jealous that he knows how to find bargains on the net so
easily. I remember when I was first on the net I would get free
samples of whatever all the time. When I start thinking about
how cool it is to get stuff on the net so you practically never
have to leave your house I think it's amazing. But I also lament
going down the isles and compulsivally buying what ever strikes
my fancy. I need to get out of that habit, anyway.
I actually
have a job! When I finish my new site... I will unveil it!
Love,
Catherine
Wednesday
January 26, 1999
Acceptance
is such a strange thing. I know many people and if they are
really my friends, they accept just about everything I do. I
accept people pretty much for what they are. I forget sometimes
that people really value how I feel about them. I guess it's
one of those things that since I was not socially accepted as
a child or teen, then I don't think that people really value
what I think about them. I forget sometimes that people I meet
these days don't remember me as a child... it's just a memory
I have created and for some fucked up reason I have decided
to keep. (one that I need to remedy my psyche of).
Today's
entry is a very special one. It's dedicated to my friend, Mili.
Mili and
Jacinta are dating. I am very happy for the both of them because
they deserve the best both of them have to offer.
When I
first met Mili I didn't know what to make of him. I knew he
was a refugee from Bosnia and that he had obviously had a rough
life to date. Every time I would see him out I wasn't sure what
to make of him. Sometimes he was sweet and sometimes he was
arrogant. Looking back I now know that his "Fuck everything"
attitude was all just a sham to hide the most caring, sensitive
and beautiful man I know.
Mili left
Bosnia when he was 13. Bosnia, which I did not know until today
(a typical bad American stereotype is that we don't know geography
and since I really haven't studied world geography since Bosnia
was created...) was a part of Yugoslavia. His momma took him
and his sister to Spain. They were there a while and then they
ended up in Kanfuckme.
Kanfuckme
is one of the worst places to immigrate to. It's hard to get
to know anyone. So he has been here a little while. He's tall,
dark and handsome. He stands about 6'4" and his hair that he
is letting grow in is black. His skin is as smooth as porcelain.
He has a deep voice and sincere eyes. Eyes that have seen things
I could never imagine. Eyes that when you look into them convey
a depth of feeling that is barely emphasized by his words.
He told
me stories today that broke my heart. Stories of friends that
were in concentration camps. How they were forced to eat steaming
gruel, how they couldn't sleep because they slept on the floor
in tight formation and someone's elbow was inevitably shoved
in your face. The kind of shit that haunts you forever.
He talked
about leaving his country and how he can never really go back
because his people will never accept him because he left. After
he was done telling us so many things I said to him "I am glad
you are going to be an American... and I accept you for who
you are and I am glad that you are here."
So I ask
you... how could any man compare himself to anyone that has
seen that kind of tragedy? How can you compete with true war
stories?
I think
of him as I looked into his eyes and I see such depth and strength
of character. I see Mili as the most amazing man I know because
he know what it's like to suffer in ways I can never understand.
He has such compassion, so much emotion, so much life in his
young eyes.
And yet...
the things that make him feel insecure for whatever reason make
me smile. Because those are the things that make him sweet and
vulnerable in ways that other men can't be. Things that most
men take for granted.
I am glad
Jacinta and him are together because she is precious to me in
ways only a man with a strong depth of character can admire
and nurture. And I am proud to call him my friend.
Thursday
January 27, 1999
Kevvy
Joe won a case today. He took me out to dinner to the Mayan
Gypsy which is my favorite restaurant. Then he brought me home
and made sweet, sweet love to me.
More tomorrow.
Sunday
January 30, 1999
It's
just a date.
It maybe
just a date... but that date is symbolic of a loss I have suffered
that will never be filled... never be explained and never be
understood by anyone else that wasn't there.
I started
yesterday much like the day she died. In the hair salon with
Kim bleaching and cutting my hair. It was icy on the ground,
much different then two years ago. I couldn't tell you what
it was like last year, but the day mom died it was bright and
sunny. Maybe gloomy but that was just because of my mood.
Of all
the days that I need emotional support yesterday is the most
important. Kevin told his friends and I told mine that we were
going to have a dinner party. Kevin and I made Turkey and stuffing
and mashed potatoes. It seems that my mashed potatoes have become
my signature. I can remember that they were the first thing
I learned how to cook from scratch at my mom's house and I often
kid as long as I have corn and mashed potatoes I can live anywhere.
So Kevin
was throwing snit fits while we were cooking and in return I
would be a bitch back. Of all the days to be a snit the anniversary
of the death of my mother is not one of them. Pissing razor
blades from this bladder infection didn't help nor did strep
throat. And I didn't really sleep on Saturday night like I should
have so I was tired and cranky.
I didn't
want to go through with it because I was ill. Grisha called
and canceled as did Mike because of the weather. Anne did not
want to spend her day with strangers but supposedly helped a
woman move away from her husband.
I wasn't
in a good mood but I knew I had to show some kind of semblance
of one. Then Grace, Chris and Elizabeth's daughter, came up
to me and she put me in a good mood instantly. She was the star.
She was the only 7 year old girl here and everyone adored her.
By the end of the night she had assigned chores for everyone
to do and she gave the list to Mili to make sure everyone did
it.
She got
Jeff to put on make up and a wig. He even let me take photos.
So...
there was Elizabeth, Chris and Grace, Mike and Tara, Mark, Jeff,
Theodore and Elizabeth, Kathy and Ed, Jacinta and Mili, Carolyn,
Mina, Tristen, Leann, Andy and Matt and Susan. There were a
lot of people here, the most I have ever had and it was really
nice. We all ate turkey, stuffing, potatoes, some carrot thing
Mike made, an apple crisp Kevin made from scratch, some brownies
and my chocolate chip cookies.
It was
a good time but I feel like this time I am really ready to end
it now. I know I keep saying that but if this is what life is
about, and I can't get the support I need on the anniversary
of my mother's death then I don't think I really need Kevin.
I can't
deal with being told how to feel anymore or what to think. I
have my own perceptions of life and although I am open and understanding
I do have my limits of what I am willing to put up with and
feeling like shit... I can feel like shit enough on my own I
don't need anyone to put me in a position where I feel like
my feelings aren't valid.
I wish
January 29th were just a date for me. But if my mom was alive
now then I could go and talk to her about how I feel and ask
her opinion of what she thinks. I don't have that anymore and
I know every January 29 I will be forced to recognize the fact
that I no longer have that no matter how hard I try to forget.
******************************************************
"Do you
want to break up?"
"No. We
just need to talk more."
"Fuck
you no. There are two choices. Break up or therapy."
"Well
call and make an appointment." blah blah blah "I thought I was
being patient yesterday but you were in a fog." blah blah blah.
"Of all
the days I need you to be nice to me the anniversary of the
death of my mother is one of them. Whenever you have a bad day
I support you no matter what. But I can't have a bad day?"
We argued
for a while. Not very effectively. "I mean... is this normal?"
Jen told me she and her husband argue all the time, it's normal.
Since my parents didn't stay together I don't know what is normal.
I know feeling like shit sucks. I know that I expect to have
a partner that supports me WHEN HE FUCKING KNOWS that one day
of the year I am going to be so incrediably FUCKED UP that I
can't function normally and I am going to be in a "fog."
We will
try it and see how that goes. blah blah blah.
