Thursday
June 1, 2000
Rock the
cradle of Love...
Over the
river and through the woods... Granny is making me a birthday
lunch. Hasta la vista and more later maybe.
* * *
I went
to Danville and hung out with Granny. We went by and saw Bea.
That was nice.
I really
hate this time of year. It makes me miss my mom so much especially
since her birthday is coming up soon. On my way back from Danville
and on my way to Lesli's house I stopped at mom's grave and
pulled in and sat and cried and screamed and cried some more.
I know
it sounds pretty sad but I have had an excellent birthday. I
heard from Tanya, got an e-card from Barbi, heard from Don in
Portland, found out Ang broke her foot.
Last night
Jacinta, Jenna, Marie, Andy and Mili all helped me celebrate
my birthday first.
Susan
eased my mind and said she was not mad at me and that her and
Matt aren't freaks like that. That made me feel a lot better.
Oh... and Matt wished me a Happy Monkey day.
Jacinta
got me all this magnetic therapy jewelry, Granny gave me my
birthday money, Lesli made me a cake, Nate is at home wiggling
out his tooth and Kevvy Joe got me a pair of diamond earrings.
Kevin
and I started being intimate a year ago today. We had sex 3
times that day. My how times have changed.
I feel
like I should write more, but my eyes are yucky from laying
on my mom's grave and bawling and I want to go eat.
Friday
June 2, 2000
You know
every once in a while it pays to step back from a situation
and assess how much something means to you.
This diary
has lasted almost 3 full years. In Internet years, that's a
fucking life time. I had my brother read it to my grandparents.
I have gained and lost several friends over it. I let you watch
as my mother died, as I traveled through Europe, some of my
greatest pain and agony and many happy days but lately I am
starting to feel like this is all a burden.
Who am
I going to get shit from next? What turn is my life going to
take? Why do I even fucking bother keeping this here if it hurts
me so much or if I hurt other people?
This was
not meant to be a weapon to hurt anyone. It was a way for me
to communicate and it got to the point where my "friends" would
come here and deal with me here instead of calling me on the
phone and talking to me and seeing how I really am. I'm honestly
fucking tired of it.
I thank
God for Ang and Geoff because it seems like they somehow "get
it" and that they see it as a means to an end not an end to
a means, whatever that means.
One of
my favorite lines that I have been hearing lately is "I know
you write everyday... But don't say ANYTHING about me." Usually
I respect people's privacy. I can't tell you some of the horrible
things people have written to me or told me in person because
it's none of your business. And really, it's none of mine but
if we take that sharing experience away from one another, then
what is life all about?
Just like
if I am still fucking Kevin. Last night I laid in bed after
we were done and I felt my toes curl and my body tremble at
the tremors my orgasm left me with. For 5 minutes I laid there
feeling those aftershocks but do I honestly feel like sharing
all the nitty gritty details about that shit anymore? Do I feel
like putting myself out there so that other women and even men
realize that some of the thoughts I share here are snapshots
into everyone psyche and they aren't crazy for thinking them?
I'm tired
and I am really fucking bored today. I'm sick of getting shit
from people that once called themselves my friends because really
they weren't my friends if they want to tell me how to live
my FUCKING life instead of supporting me through a bad spell.
Maybe
I haven't said the honest truth about everything according to
other people but this IS MY FUCKING DIARY and you come here
VOLUNTARILY. Chances are you are not always going to like what
you are reading but who in the fuck are you to tell me what
to think or how to feel about stuff? Do you e-mail me and say
"I noticed you were fucked up today blah blah blah?" A few of
you do but for the most part... hell no. And you know what?
It's not fair of me to ever expect you to just like it's not
fair for you to expect that this diary is going to be here tomorrow.
Saturday
June 3, 2000
Zack and
I kissed and made up. I'm sure he is still pissed at me but
I don't care anymore. I don't think he should be worrying about
shit he reads here and he should concentrate more on our relationship.
He read things that didn't make him happy so I made sure he
would actually have a reason to be pissed off at me instead
of commenting on something I said or wrote about something else.
I think
people have a tendency to forget that this is just 1/10 of who
I am... there are relationships and feelings and a whole other
brew going on here and I write this more to keep myself straight
on events that transpire in my life instead of using it as a
factual document.
Plus I
have my on-line life and my real life. Sometimes the two intermingle
but for the most part I like to keep them separated. My on-line
life would not exist without my real life but there are a lot
of things I keep to myself.
But I
am happy to say that I have met some decent people on-line and
that I have even met several people, like Kevin, this way and
they really mean a lot to me in real life. It's strange. There
have also been a fair share of psychos, maybe a few too many,
but at least they made me laugh.
Tuesday
June 6, 2000
Nate and
I laid next to the fire and we were telling each other "ghost"
stories. It was really nice just the two of us in our sleeping
bags underneath the dusky sky.
Pam, Paul
and Ally came by tonight. We roasted marshmallows outside and
Nate wanted to sleep out there and I humored him for a bit until
Noah decided he couldn't sleep without Nate being around. Lesli
made us come back up to the house and I must admit that I was
rather happy.
For some
reason (global warming) it is unseasonably cold here in Kanfuckme.
It's the kind of cold you read about in books where you can
feel the cold seep into your scalp and chill you all the way
down into your bones.
I want
to take a shower to warm up, but it's 4 in the morning and everyone
is asleep. I shudder just now...
Nate is
losing a tooth. Actually several are loose but he really looks
like a snaggletooth now. It's funny in a way. I asked him to
write a story and tell me what it feels like to have a tooth
loose. I think he lost his first tooth last summer when I was
watching him and Noah and they were on the bed rough housing
and Noah kicked him in the mouth.
I love
to pick his brain for his memories. "You know whose birthday
would be next week?" He shakes his head. "Bo's."
He gets
a sad look on his face, his voice drops and says "yeah... Bo."
"What
do you remember about Bo?"
"We used
to go to yard sales together." He is so precious. I think when
kids aren't self conscious about going to yard sales or walking
into a Wal Mart they are just so sweet. I would hate to be a
teenager again though...
I love
my nephews very much. I love to talk to them and although Nate's
ghost story resembled my Pink Gorilla joke a lot tonight, it
was still one of the nicest days I have had laying outside with
a fire near by and spending time with my nephew. He rocks and
I derive so much pleasure from watching him grow up. They are
going to grow up and be such characters.
Wednesday
June 7, 2000
I have
never felt a deer tongue, nor their antlers. I have seen all
kinds of deer in my life. Dead deer, deer patty, one asshole
I substituted for had a fucking deer head hanging in his classroom.
Just what you want to teach kids with a BD. When we went to
Panama City Beach there literally were hundreds of deer on the
side of the road as we went through Alabama and into Florida.
It was almost frightening because I have never seen so many
just grazing on the side of the road. But today, I felt what
it was like to have a deer lick my hand and took a certain amount
of delight at watching it lick Nate's leg.
We went
to a petting Zoo off Rose Island Road called Henry's Ark. I
have never seen such a variety of animals and was disturbed
to find that after they shore a camel, they just threw the wool
away.
The best
part of being in Vermont was my roomie, Jan. She knew how to
spin yarn and knit, and I would love to learn how to do that.
There
were water buffalo, several pregnant Nanny goats, chickens and
cocks, alabino peacocks, deer, cabbits, just some of the strangest
animals you would never know existed just 20 minutes outside
of downtown Louisville. It costs about $7 to get into the Louisville
Zoo and now I think that is a fucking waste because you can't
have a deer lick you at the LZ.
Lawrence
sent me this link for this Barbecue
Sauce. It comes highly recommended...
I'm sleepy...
Noah didn't sleep well last night and woke up at 2. I couldn't
go back to sleep until 4.
Friday
June 9, 2000
I hate
being on top. I am sure I am one of the few women to confess
this. When Jenna, Kevin and I went for ice cream at the Widow's
Walk in So. Indiana after Kevin came out to Lesli's and made
us all London Broil we went for ice cream.
Jenna
was talking about being on top and I said something about Kevin
doing this thing where my knees are bent up around his body
and he gets on top and fucking rides as fast as he can. Sometimes
I like it a little rough. He got pissed at us talking about
it and it wasn't until we stood up and he poked me with his
hard-on did I realize just why he was upset.
Jenna
extolled the glories of what it's like to be on top.
We went
back to Kevin's place and I mounted his hard, throbbing cock.
I hate being on top. Maybe it's because I am lazy or maybe it's
just because I don't feel like I get the same penetration or
perhaps it's because I have a 4 inch scar in my vagina so each
time Kevin's dick hits it I wince in a tremendous amount of
pain. This time it was different. I moved up and down and all
around and gushed like a geyser all over him. That's another
reason I don't like being on top. I tend to ejaculate a lot
more and I hate it when it runs down Kevin's side and gets my
legs where they are touching him all wet.
I do this
thing though... Where I get up on my legs and slam down on his
cock as fast as I can and it makes him go crazy. He moans in
ways that he normally won't moan and sighs these deep breathy
sighs.
I don't
know what it was about the other night, maybe talking about
sex with someone else that actually enjoys it or learning something
a little new... Kevin took me by the hips as I was on top on
him and moved my ass all over his cock. That made me throw my
face down into his pillow and scream in a way that I can only
scream from such carnal delights. He was hitting my g-spot and
when he does that every muscle in my body clenches tight and
he has to come out of my body because I push him out. If he
doesn't come out of my body, then it becomes very painful especially
if I can't ejaculate.
That was
a couple of days ago. Last night we started doggie style. I
love to feel his balls slam up against my clit. I come a couple
of times and then I have to change positions. Last night when
he got around to slamming it in I hooked my legs up around his
shoulders (as I am a VERY limber girl) as not to fall out of
rhythm. I hate it when we miss a beat and his cock bends. My
heart always stops for a moment until I realize he is OK. I
remember reading a story about a couple who would have vigorous
sex once and they broke his dick. So whenever it bends I get
a little worried that I might hurt him and I would hate for
him or me to have to go through the pain of having it fixed.
In a way,
I hate Lorena Bobbitt for what she did and in a way I admire
her. I like it how she exacted her revenge but I hate how men
are scared women want to cut their dicks off. I dated one guy
once who was afraid I would do such a thing. It hurt my feelings
more then you could imagine because I love to look at a penis.
When I was in Drawing class, no one ever drew the model's penis
except me. I think it has a lot of character. I still remember
that little cartoon in Johnny Dangerously where Michael
Keaton showed his brother how to take care of his penis.
I have
been doing a lot of thinking about gender roles and sex and
how women are taught not to trust their own bodies from an early
age. It makes me sad... and when I think of how I believed having
a cunt was a very bad thing from the time I was young, that
makes me really sad. A women is never really taught how to trust
her own body and the messages she receives are compounded with
the bombardment of television and advertisements.
Sometimes
I wonder if women will ever get to the point where they enjoy
their sexuality as much as I enjoy mine... or if we will ever
feel comfortable enough about it to discuss it in a free and
open society. I'm beginning to believe their are cracks in the
foundations of shit society would have us believe about ourselves...
but then I look at the kind of shit that is so mainstream. Martha
Stuart Living... give me a fucking break. I bet she has cob
webs on her cob webs because she would rather make something
look presentable instead of having a big fat cock in her mouth.
I'm sorry
but I don't think that I will ever change my mind about sex
unless I have children. I have heard your sex drive decreases
afterwards and as I quickly approach my sexual "peak" without
having a child, I think my body craves sex even more. It tells
me to give it a baby. I never do so this feeling builds and
builds. I feel sorry for girls that have babies young. I wonder
if they ever experience this kind of sensation.
Saturday
June 10, 2000
I couldn't
have asked for a more perfect day. Kevin and I woke up and met
Matt and Susan at Shalimar and we had the buffet. I love
Indian food. Yesterday was Matt's Birthday. So we celebrated
our birthdays together.
Susan
is concerned about some of the issues I have been having so
she and Matt took me to the book store and I picked out two
books. One to deal with Trust After Trauma and the other
is How to Learn the Amazing "Venus Butterfly" Technique.
So hopefully I will be learning how to have a one hour orgasm
while working out some of these trust issues I have.
I think
of all the things Joe ever did to me introducing me to Matt
and Susan has got to be one of the best things. And of all the
friends I have had I think I could say they are the most generous
with their time and knowledge and support me in ways that I
need to be supported. They don't get pissed at me for freaking
out but understand that some of it is residuals from being abused.
And they want to help me become a better person and feel loved.
So after
eating and buying another hard drive, we went back to their
place and Susan went and got our birthday cake. We got in their
pool since it was fucking 90 degrees outside and didn't get
out. We drank hard lemonade and some other beers. I drank a
black current Black Adder cider and beer and it was mmmm mmmm
good.
We came
back to Kevin's place and I slept for 5 hours. I woke up just
in time for Mad TV. Jenna called and now she is here.
I think we might go out. She said it's still skanky outside.
I might call Jacinta and see what she's up to. Although Mr.
Peepers on SNL is cracking me up. OH MY GOD... I just got a
look at what the Rock looks like when he is pumping away...
mmmm
Sunday
June 11, 2000
How do
you describe someone as enigmatic as my mother?
Today
she would have been 55.
I was
thinking about the things I miss the most about her. Hugging
her when I was smaller. I miss that. I miss being able to tell
her things I have only written in here. I miss having someone
proud of me. I miss her spontaneity and her quirky and strange
ways of speaking.
We were
a lot a like in many good ways, and I even inherited some of
her more annoying traits, like forgetting my ID.
She thought
I was weird. She knew there were things that I did that she
didn't quite understand. She would never knock when she would
come into my bedroom and one time my legs were in the air as
she opened my door.
Between
her and my father, I don't think I had a chance. They were horn
dogs so I also inherited their overwhelming sexuality combined
into this explosive and sometimes volatile mixture of emotions
I exhibit today. I think it's called passion.
I miss
her bad paintings and her enthusiasm over the silliest things.
I miss getting cool shit from yard sales that she would get
for a dollar. I miss her essence and even her smell. Since she's
died, I can remember one time when I smelled another woman like
her and even remember sitting on the metro in New York with
Sam and seeing someone that looked so much like her I started
to cry these heaving sobs. That was a bit overwhelming.
I miss
her physical love. I miss her sloppy kisses and swimming with
her in her pool. I miss her fussing at me for minor infractions.
I miss her humor, I miss her attitude. She was one of a kind
and when I hear people bitching about their mothers I can not
identify because my mom was so unique that she didn't put me
through some of the shit I hear my friends complain about today.
I miss
cheering her up because it was so easy. I miss telling her stories
and having her be so incredibly proud or even embarrassed because
she thought she had raised a woman that was more unique and
different then she was. It wasn't just her though my dad helped
shape many of the attitudes I have by being his selfish self.
I think,
in a way, the reason I slept around and forced myself to have
one night stands was so that I wouldn't ever feel about my life
like she did. After watching her melt away from the pain that
my father inflicted, and her having very little resources to
deal with the pain, I decided that no one would ever posses
my sexuality like my father possessed hers. I wish she would
have learned that she was the one that was special, and that
my father was the creep and she shouldn't have taken his abusive
patterns to heart, that he was the one that was mentally ill
and he spread his disease worse then a STD.
You know,
in a way I feel sorry for women that have these perfect lives.
I can't ever imagine trading them for a second, although I am
sure they think they have had things so much easier. I love
my life and all the little things I can call my own right down
to being treated so badly by so many different people.
I honestly
don't believe women that have had it easy could deal with half
of the life I have chosen for myself, and all the parts that
I didn't. Each time you go through a tremendous amount of shit
and suffer a great deal you build up these pools of your personality
so that when things get fucked again, you dip into them and
find some kind of serenity.
That's
why I admire people like Geoff and Peter. People that have physical
limitation tend to be a lot more giving because they know exactly
what it is they are giving to the people they care about or
even people they don't know.
I feel
bad for blowing up here in my diary, it wasn't the first time
and I know it won't be the last, but I have to remember that
people will always try to hurt me and they only succeed if I
allow them to. Some people like to spread their disease like
a sneeze of tuberculosis in a nursery. Some people just can't
find the answers to their own lives so they try to take the
people that care about them into the abyss in which they suffer.
My mother did this, but at the same time you never really felt
sorry for her because she always kept silent about her suffering.
Sometimes
she would intermittently cry out when the pain got too bad.
She could feel the cancer eating her insides but it would subside
as quickly as it came on and she would go on as if it never
happened.
Of all
the things I miss the most, I miss her strength and courage.
I don't think I could ever flesh out who my mother was or what
she really fully ever means to me because just like me she was
always changing and something that she felt today might not
be what she felt tomorrow.
Lately
I have been finding myself in situations feel a child like wonder
at everything being new and different. I love this about myself.
Sometimes I don't feel that appreciated, and then I get a letter
from George, or someone that has read this document from beginning
to end trying to get a feel for who I am. That always makes
my heart leap out and proud of myself because I have touched
someone in some way.
George
with his baby girl I am sure he is an excellent daddy. He wrote
about how he used to ride down Rose Island Road. The other day
when Kevin was in a pissy mood we went to Henry's Ark to see
the animals. When you go out there you see animals and how they
should be seen, in wide open spaces, not cramped like they are
in a zoo. I saw several people riding their bikes and looked
around at the green of the grass, and the clarity in the light
and I thought of what it must have been like to be George and
ride down Rose Island Road when it wasn't this pretty. Or what
it was like to ride and not see a herd of zebra running next
to you, or maybe a camel. I can't imagine that anymore because
I know what it's like to see that and he doesn't.
Sigh...
I miss my mommy. I miss her character, I miss her love, I miss
the safety she provided, but I think for the first time since
she died, I am ready to move on with my life.
Monday
June 12, 2000
Fucking
psychotic bitch.
I am Brad
Pitt to her Edward Norton. She wishes she was fucking smart
enough to blow her own fucking head off and make me disappear.
Surprise, cunt, I am my own person, haunting you only because
you fucking wish to be haunted in that special Cathy Clay kind
of way. And let's not forget you are the one that continues
to berate me with your bullshit, not the other way around.
WHICH
PART OF LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? I
question her. Andy rents Fight Club so I can try and
put her mental illness in perspective. I start to realize that
maybe it is a compliment because she no longer accepts a way
of life she was so comfortable believing in. Or maybe I am the
person she wishes she could be.
Then I
remind myself that she is too fucking stupid to pull a stunt
off where she could change the heart and minds of people around
her because she is too judgemental.
I save her psychotic, judgemental ranting to remind myself
just why it is I want nothing to do with her any longer.
She wants
to make comments about my life... she wants to put me in a position
where I believe the lie she so desperately clings to that safeguards
her life behind a wedding band and a white picket fence, where
life makes sense...
I refuse
to believe in the lie. Maybe she refers to me as Brad Pitt because
of my hyper sexuality. Maybe it's because when they are barrelling
down the road he tells Ed to just let go and let life happen.
Maybe she refers to me that way because I squat in anyone who
will take care of me for the night's house. Or maybe it's because
I really make her appreciate her boring life because someone
has to live this miserable and glorious one. But it certainly
isn't because we are the same fucking person.
I hate
it when people judge my life... trying to make some kind of
sense out of it when I am trudging through shit I can't possibly
articulate. I think of what it was like to lie in Kevin's bed
yesterday, reading about how when someone has been suffered
through PTSD they are just a wee bit fucked up. And she was
just talking about simple PTSD, not the kind that is layered
with another trauma and then another and another and one more
and then a little sprinkle of sugar for good measure trying
to make this shit pie just a little more tasty.
There
are feelings I am just beginning to translate about myself because
I never allowed myself to feel the full impact of their pain.
Feelings of abandonment, of knowing that the one person I could
always depend on now rests her decaying head on a satin pillow,
roots showing through a radioactive preserved face. The warmth
and tenderness of her breasts that once fed me now replaced
with a feeling of loss and emptiness. An uncaring father and
a family that is hard for me to relate to. This is my life while
hers is one that is typical of so many... her mother did well
to protect her from the horrors this life has to offer because
she knew what it was like to suffer.
In this
book I read about a woman and someone called her strange. She
replied "If you had lived through my life, you would be strange
too."
I think
you get to a point in life where you change your way of thinking
so much that it's very hard to find anything that is a source
of comfort and joy, but when you do find such things, you cling
desperately to them so the memory serves to provide you with
a warm fuzzy when you lay your head down at night and try not
to think about the fucked up things other people have done to
you, or your mother's body being eaten by worms.
Tuesday
June 13, 2000
So I am
perusing yahoo and for some strange reason, I come across a page of dead relatives. It's weird to think that
without Henry, we would have never have landed the Missouri
Compromise. My great-grandfather was S.E. Clay of Danville,
(I assume Samuel Eugene) but there is seemingly little information
about him. I bet it sucked to be a Clay and have all your relatives
in the House of Representatives or Senators, or Ministers to
foreign countries while you were just a simple attorney.
My grandfather
that just died the 31st of December was James Franklin too.
My mother told me that the blue-bloods named their children
for people in their family line. That is why I am Catherine
Elizabeth, AKA
Erratic Assassin. If I enter just Catherine Clay then I
am Temporary Spastic. Jacinta is Cybernetic Tiger. Jenna is
the Embryonic Crusadah. And the psycho that won't leave me alone
is aptly named Ultra-Chronic Monstah.
Momma
was Gratuitous F-REEK, which I find to be appropriate. Granny
is Dizzy Cow while Pop is Action-Packed Mentallist. I'm stopping.
I don't need to know that Andy is the Vangelic Surgeon or Anne
is the Alarmingly-Named Wolfman or a Cheeky Delinquent or that
Lesli is Ol'Filthy, Sweaty Bastard.
I am going
to make sure that if I have kids I run them through the Wu so
they can have an ultra hip Wu name. Actually I thought of calling
my girl Catherine Elizabeth Clay, Jr. I think it's more appropriate
to name a girl Jr. since she would be a chip off the ol' cunt.
It's weird
to think they wrote books about my family, but even weirder
to find info about them on the net. Apparently it was popular
to name kids after colors oh so long ago.
Oh yeah...
I am looking for a job today.
* * *
I walked
into my dream job today... In LOUISVILLE, KANFUCKME!
I am a
web designer that might be traveling that spoke Russian on her
first day whose photographs will be used for one of the most
interest web sites I have ever interviewed with.
Today
has been one of the best days of my life!!!!!!!!!
Wednesday
June 14, 2000
Happy
Birthday, Granny. She is 77 today.
And I
am way too tired to type much more then this.
Thursday
June 15, 2000
I'm on
the phone with Stephanie. She has been one of the few people
to have supported me after high school. She came to my art opening
and she was there for me at strange points in my life. She was
there when Dad threw us out when I was 15.
Saturday
June 17, 2000
Once again
I know what it feels like to be a chicken with its head cut
off.
Feeling
cocky and valuable enough to my job, I have decided to look
into buying a house. I am sick of renting and if I play my cards
just right then I won't have to pay much more then 700 dollars
a month in a mortgage. Split that up with a room mate and then
it will be even more manageable.
The house
I am looking at is an oasis of my dreams. A culmination of craftsmanship
and the antiquity of over 90 years reconstructed and renovated
with a washer and dryer.
It may
not be in the best location, but I don't need the kids going
to a school of excellence at this time. And Matt and Susan will
be over on the next block. I like the area... which is close
to main street.
Kevin
thinks I am going too fast but I don't really care. I have never
regretted a hasty decision in my life.
The closets
are to die for.
And the
man selling the house... his mother has ovarian cancer.
Monday
June 19, 2000
Today
is Jenna's birthday so we are suppose to go out to eat. She
was suppose to have an interview today but I think they rescheduled
it for later.
Work on
the web site is going well. I am basically in charge of writing
about a few things on Iranian and Persian culture and it all
relates to Russia and Russian history. I am falling in love
with my job, which I think is the way it should be. I get excited
to wake up in the morning and see my co-workers and find out
what they did over night since the only free day we have is
Sunday. The site launches July first. Next week is going to
kill as the encroaching deadline comes into site and there are
tweaks here and there that we need to do.
That bastard
sold his house to someone offering what he was asking. I liked
him until I had to call him and ask him what is going on and
he told me he was selling it to someone paying the full price.
He told me his mother had ovarian cancer and you know that ripped
right through me.
I guess
it was a money thing even though he acted like it wasn't. Economics
. I don't think I will ever fully comprehend people's motivations.
Kevin
and I are talking about moving in together. I think about how
if we were to be married, it would be a great advantage to him
since he wants to go into private practice.
When I
first got this job I wanted nothing more then to be settled,
but now because of his hesitance, I find myself hesitating.
I went
shopping this weekend and got a ton of clothes. I sold my car
to Gega, the Georgian that I practice Russian with. I also saw
Melissa at the mall . She has lost a TON of weight. She was
happy to see me and I told her I was thinking about her a lot.
I was glad she didn't act like anything was different .
So now
I am pretty boring. I have the job of my dreams, developing
cultural skills and learning about history this week. Next week
I am sure it will be completely different.
My "boss"
AKA co-worker Ryan is cool. Jason has always been cool and so
are the two Bens. I think you have to have a Ben if you work
in IT at your office looming around doing something.
But I
get to be myself here and that's the happiest part about my
job.
Tuesday
June 20, 2000
A serious
internal threat to the Seljuks, however, came from the Ismailis,
a secret sect with headquarters at Alumut between Rasht and
Tehran. They controlled the immediate area for more then 150
years and sporadically sent out adherents to strengthen their
rule by murdering important officials. The word assassins, which
was applied to these murderers, developed from a European corruption
of the name applied to them in Syria, hashishiyya, because folklore
had it that they smoked hashish before their missions.
Give a
whole new meaning to my Wu Tang Name, Erratic
Assassin.
Sigh...
I have to work now... But I will say this, the more I learn
about Persian history the more I think the history I learned
in college was all a fucking lie. The cradle of civilization
started in Iran and Iraq... and that's where all cultures except
those of the indigenous Americas began.
Wednesday
June 21, 2000
Today
is Ian's birthday.I believe he is 19 for real now. It's crazy.
We were supposed to get together but now... who knows.
I am going
to chill for a while. I am thinking about writing a book and
if I do that then I can't keep this journal for a while. Besides
with the new job and new life I have to get some things worked
out.
I need
to figure out what I am going to do with my life. I don't get
much e-mail these days because I don't respond. And I don't
respond because I am tired and wore out because I read all day
about the beginning of civilization and the history of the Orient.
I think
that my life is about to take on the role of a character in
a really, really good book.
Thursday
June 22, 2000
So...
I just had the longest conversation with Jacinta that I have
had in a long time. Probably since Diana. She is now on line
and she was proud of me for this dreadful feat I have undertaken
in exposing my life for what it really is like. She loved the
photos and was very proud to see her face in several of them.
I'm sure
you are not going to believe this but I told Kevin that this
wasn't working for me. He is such a creep. "Do you know how
you can love someone but not be in love with them?" All
the while I am thinking of a song Zack made for me on a tape
from Stereo Lab. It goes:
Do you really want to love someone
that does not love you
I don't I don't I don't
I'm soooooooorrrrrrrryyy
I don't I don't I don't
I'm soooooooorrrrrrrryyy
Thank you Zack for the sound file.
"Yeah
Kevin. Do you know how to love someone but not bein love
with someone? I'll show you how to do it too." We were laying
in bed the other night having a conversation and he told me
he didn't feel comfortable telling me he loved me. Fuck him.
I don't need his bullshit. I got pre-approved for a fucking
house for 99K BY MYSELF. Not with Daddy's help or Pop's or Granny's.
But I can totally thank my mother.
I really
feel like being the fuck alone now. I don't want to have to
worry about being in another relationshit again for a long fucking
time. "Things are different now that you have a job. You are
in a better mood, blah blah blah." That rolls around in my head
as well as "I was being honest with you and this is what I get."
Yeah mother fucker, I'm being really fucking honest with you
"I don't think you make an ideal husband (for me)."
Fucking
grow up. The other night I am over at MY friend's place and
he has to be a dick and say "I've heard that story more then
5 times, I don't want to hear it anymore." Then fucking leave.
If you are going to say that shit you are in essence telling
me that my story doesn't matter because you have heard it and
you are bored with it. How fucking egotistical is that? (I only
share that special part of myself with the people I love and
since he doesn't love me...)
I am tired.
I am putting all of my energy into my job right now, trying
to stay focused and do an excellent job. I don't need any body's
shit in my life right now. Or ever for that fucking matter.
I never
dreamt that I would feel like I was powerless again and I did
it to myself and I do not expect anyone's sympathy because that
was a very dumb thing for me to do. At least it was just a year
of my life and not forever. I couldn't imagine being married
to that shit for a while. Why do other women? When are men going
to just shut the fuck up and realize that if they don't help
take care of things every once in a while then they aren't going
to get to share in the spoils.
You know,
you never fucking fight with me because I am pretty much always
right. Anne came home from Ireland with her friend that had
never been abroad. Her reaction reminded me of mine when I traveled
with her to London. It cracked me up to see karma at work because
to me there is nothing sweeter then having someone kissing my
ass because I was right about something and they were wrong
or they realize how hard it was to do some of the things I have
done especially with me being brain damaged. You can come away
from anything as long as you push yourself through it. Even
depression. Even adversity. And especially emotional pain. Sometimes
it really bothers me my tolerance for pain. I wonder if I could
somehow realize I was going through it and stop it before it
hurts too much... or maybe this is what I already do.
And then
sometimes you can justify things in your mind so that it just
seems so natural it must be right. I don't think I will ever
feel that way. I am extremely overprotective of my heart. I
don't give it away to just anybody. I told him I needed to feel
loved. I need to be told I am loved on a regular basis and I
need more affection. I think this is my constant complaint.
I can say this, Andy did spoil me by constantly touching me
in a loving way and Kevin spoiled me with good sex. I wish I
could find a man that could love me without being afraid, and
maybe a little worshiping to boot. I think I deserve to be loved
in a special way, just since I am such a special lay.
Friday
June 23, 2000
My days
consist of routines now. I drink over 64 fluid ounces of water
a day. I come home sore and achey and a bit overwhelmed from
all the shit I have to do at work. Kevin called me yesterday
and asked me to go to Mike's going away party. I told him I
already had plans. It pissed me off a great deal because he
is acting like nothing happened the other night. Or maybe he
is now realizing that he is losing me and as long as I am where
he can see me...
It would
be kind of nice to go. I finally have a job after a year and
it would be nice to talk about it but I really don't have the
energy. I come home and fall asleep around 8 sometimes 9 just
so I can wake up at 7 and start all over again. I feel like
I am getting a lot done but at the same time I feel like I am
not accomplishing anything.
I can
honestly say I am overwhelmed.
Saturday
June 24, 2000
Today
has been one hell of a fucking day. I spent the night over at
Ian's because we hung out last night after I went to Jason's
pool party. I wanted to stay at the party but I am still trying
to get used to my co-workers.
I pretty
much like everyone I am working with. We are all a little strange
in our own special ways and I get a kick out of going to work
because I will never be bored.
So I woke
up after sleeping on Ian's couch at 6:30 because today Mili
was in the Street Ball Showdown. They blocked off parts
of 2nd street and First so people could play for charity. Mili
had a formidable opponent that stood a head taller then he.
He stands about 6'4". So I hung out with Jacinta and took photos.
Then I went to work around 10. My project manager didn't tell
me not to come in but hardly anyone showed up today. We left
around 12. I met my old landlord and he showed me a cute little
place that has all been remodeled. It even had Moen faucets
in it. I don't like the way the toilet sits, but I think I can
deal. It's got three bedrooms and I think I am going to be moving
Andy in with me for a little while so I can actually afford
the fucking place and still have enough money to go out and
play with.
After
signing a bunch of paper work and sitting down at Shoney's I
went to my old high school buddy's, Stephanie, place. We sat
around and bitched about men. She split from her husband about
6 months ago. It's nice to know that divorced couples can still
get along.
She fucking
rocked my world though. She fucking knows about all these plants
and shit and was telling me about them. It was tripy.
Then I
had to go back out to wide,wide Dixie Hwy. to take photos for
Bob for Long Term Gaming. It's just now 10 o'clock and I am
fucking beat. I need to go take care of Percy and fucking fall
into a coma sleep.
Tomorrow
is going to not be relaxing as the Pride Parade will be tomorrow
and even though I have no energy, I will go photograph it because
I haven't missed one since 1998 and I kind of want that to be
my little tradition. Gay Pride through the years and in different
cities all over the world.
I'm outty...
Sunday
June 25, 2000
I slept
most of the day. I woke up and took a walk with Percy. I was
looking into getting a place but I don't think I want it now.
I don't really know what I want from my life right now. I think
I want to be settled and be a property owner and then I think
I don't.
I'm staying
at Mike's place. Sometimes I wonder why people even bother checking
out what I am doing and it always surprises me that people always
come here to see what I am doing. Zack still comes back. You
come back. But it surprises me that Mike comes back. But now
that I am at his house I know why. He doesn't have cable so
there is nothing else better to do then see what I am up to.
I don't
know. I think it's nice to have a little bit of insecurity.
It's nice to know that I do have people that care about me.
I think if you are too confident about things people usually
underestimate how sometimes you can be insecure.
I feel
bad for sleeping so much but I needed the rest. Jenna called
me yesterday and wanted to see if I was going to Sarah's party.
I was just too tired. There is so much shit going on in my life
right now that I have a hard time keeping up. Jenna made me
dinner and it was so yummy.
Kevin
came and hung out with us too for a little bit. I talked on
the phone with Tara about stuff and she told me she knew what
I was going through. I don't know. I don't understand what I
am going through right now... And I am not really sure if I
even fucking care.
Monday
June 26, 2000
I spent
most of my day pouring over a large art history book on Persian
Art today. I can't tell you how excited that made me. I think
next month when we are doing a different country I am only going
to take the art history section or maybe if Jenna gets a job
with me she can take on that aspect and I can take on the other
little different projects that aren't as time consuming. Besides
she actually majored in Art History and I only minored in it.
They want
me to write a photo manual to all the equipment they have as
well. Right now we are a little cramped in the office so I asked
Ryan if I could work at home tonight on this project because
basically what I would do in college when I would have a ten
page paper would be to sit at home with all my materials and
just write it up all night. Plus I am such a fucking perfectionist
I want it to be beautiful from the start. So hopefully they
will let me work from Andy's tomorrow. I think I will get a
lot more accomplished.
I am so
pumped. I actually have a date on Thursday with a Chris that
moved here (on purpose) from somewhere. He's a developer and
he just happened to find my link from that
Chris guy.
Andy commented
that I was in a better mood and I told him how Kevin told me
he didn't love me so... Plus I am getting all excited about
going on a date because I haven't been on one in over a year.
I missed
my dinner date with Susanne, and that has me a little bummed
but I know she will forgive me (besides I thought it was tomorrow
for some reason).
I think
I need to add that I have not been this fucking busy in a long
ass time and it feels kind of good for a change. I e-mailed
my boss about maybe going to Kazantip this August and even spent
a while on the phone with Roman today dreaming about this trip.
I hope I get to go and see Roman and have fun and write an interesting
article and take a bunch of cool fucking photos.
I feel
like after working on my website the way I have been I am going
to be rewarded for it by continuing to do it for someone that
will appreciate it.
Right
about now I would say that my life is working out better then
I had hoped. Or should I say just as I had hoped ;)
Wednesday
June 28, 2000
I think
I am going to be really glad once this month is over.
I started
my period today. Whoo hoo. I had a dream about Mikey too. It
was an awesome dream and she was moving into a new house and
enjoying her life and I think she was even getting married to
Gordon again. It was strange.
I guess
this explains me being so tired. I talked on the phone last
night with Chris and he asked me not to talk about him. He also
promised not to read my diary too. Fuck him. I don't think you
can go to someone that has this overwhelming compulsion to keep
writing, and is encouraged by her closest friends, and tell
her to not write about you. Sometimes I would love to quit but
I think I am almost as hooked as you are.
I don't
see myself changing for a piece of ass. I mean if men think
they can change someone from the start then why even bother?
I am who I always will be and I guess we are both going to have
to accept that. Just like I have to accept certain things about
his lifestyle that maybe I don't agree with if we end up shagging.
I think
it's hard enough when you are my age to find someone that is
seemingly interesting and has a decent career. I think it's
also stupid to impose boundaries on someone that you have that
they don't share with you or to expect someone that is guarded
to come out in the open.
I don't
know... it's just a cup of coffee after all. Besides I am not
in that much of a hurry since I finally broke up with Kevin
just a little over a week ago.
Last night
was McDiddle's last night in Louisville. He is moving back to
Ca and I am rather sad. He was always a lot of fun to hang out
with. So I went with Kevin out to Baxter Station. He is really
sad but I don't care like I used to. Before he could be sad
and I would always try to cheer him up but I just don't care.
Let him sulk. He fucked up, not me. Wait... there are no winners
in a failed relationshit, just two fucking losers.
Gotta
run. I hate dial up connections.
Thursday
June 29, 2000
Sometimes
I feel like an idiot. I never realize how much those fucking
bastards took out of my God Damn Paycheck for taxes, etc. Why
in the fuck should I be putting into Social Security when I
can take that money, toss it in my IRA and ensure that there
will be money for me in the future? And why in the hell is so
much fucking money being taken out in federal taxes and all
the stupid little bullshit taxes.
I thought
they messed up my paycheck but I figured out that wasn't the
case. Those fucking bastards.
Yesterday
was the best fucking day at work yet. I talked with Vince and
his set photography set up. I learned so fucking much. He told
me all kinds of fucked up stories about how he would take photos
while being duct taped to helicopter or some shit like that.
He showed me some of his work where he was in breathing distance
of our president.
I asked
him how the head man knew how to hire so many cool fucking people
because we all come from such diverse backgrounds and for the
most part, we really all get along well. I think all of us have
suffered from some kind of shell shock in our lives and for
some reason... we are all together now trying to put our hearts
into a dream we all believe in. In a way it's frightening and
in a way I couldn't have envisioned a better job for myself,
better people to work for and with. I still can't get over that
I actually enjoy waking up in the morning and going to work.
I feel
like I have fallen into a dream...
* * *
I mean
fucking come on. If you had someone that wrote you something
like this: Hey - Today, during my ritualistic 2 mile lunchtime
run at the Fort, a deer and her doe popped up on my track. Beautiful
- the doe (or is it fawn) was so small and spotted like just
like Disney said. They stayed about 20 feet in front of me -
keeping pace with me - for about a quarter mile. They moved
so gracefully, I felt like an oaf trodding behind. Weird, that
they didn't scurry into the woods, but remained on the track
like my pace car - always 20 feet ahead (looking back to make
sure I was keeping up). Then, tiring of me - they split. It
was cool. AND I didn't think of how much the run sucked for
that 5 minutes. wouldn't your heart beat a little faster
and wouldn't you be excited maybe even a bit ecstatic?
I know
I am. I am overwhelmed. What am I supposed to think of this
beautiful creature who writes poetry in a letter, can actually
play guitar, paints, does web stuff, can cook, has a motorcycle
and more then likely can fuck like a god?
I am scared
my life might actually go the way I want it to. After having
so many fucked up things go on and suffering so much I would
laugh when the pain hurt just right... and this beautiful man
happens into my life.
I always
thought that if the right person came along I would quit writing
my journal... or at the very least let it evolve so that it
wasn't SO personal...
I don't
know. It's just a cup of coffee and maybe, just maybe a motorcycle
ride. God I can't tell you how many times I have wanted to spend
my summer on the back of a bike, holding on to someone for dear
life. Trusting them not to be in an accident. Sigh...
* * *
Cathy,
New Zealand
is like one large earth womb. Anywhere a tree can manage to
drop a cone, and reproduce...it does. Any extra space a flower
or a plant has to spread itself, it does. The hills are so full
of life, I can't imagine being able to walk through them. There
are trails, and when you go through them you are rewarded with
the sort of haven and protection only a canopy of enormous trees
can supply. If you look out at the top of the hills you have
your pick of view: city, harbor, ocean, or gentle green hills
flecked with sheep. This place has more beauty than anywhere
I've ever been. And these people walk around, completely immune
to it. A lifetime in the Midwest has rendered me ultra sensitive
to the sight of beauty, no matter how small. That is the one
thing I can thank it for. Being surrounded by megamalls and
flat land, almost entirely devoid of beauty, made me savour
any park I happened upon, or any stream or creek regardless
of size. I am hitting critical mass in this place. Sam took
me to the shore where his mother lives. We walked with his little
sister along the ocean. Nothing is nicer than a beach in winter.
Those two have the same hair, and we went out on the beach just
as the sun was setting and their hair was just ablaze. It was
all so beautiful. The city is nice. It has a very San Francisco
feel to it. Yet there is much that reminds me of Chicago in
it. The hills are beginning to piss me off, but they've helped
my thighs tremendously. The trip through the South should be
amazing. It's supposed to be even more beautiful. I can't help
think, nearly everywhere I go, "Cathy would fucking die to see
this" or "Cathy is the only person I know who could capture
this". I have to admit that being the Libra I am, I am lonely
and in need of friends. It's hard for me to not have friends
around. I feel very lonely. And being lonely in a beautiful
place with so many wonderful things can be so tragic. Poor me.
Anyways, I miss you, and look forward to you getting your ass
here. Love you, girl.
Diana
That's
where I am going for my first vacation.
* * *
I am such
a fucking moron. Let this be a lesson to you girls. There are
a bunch of stupid fucked up men on the Internet and one of them
goes by the name of.... I should just write his name here but
then I will be giving slime a name.
I found
out that piece of shit wrote Jenna the same letter and did a
little mass e-mailing. I am sure he is networking and that's
why the piece of shit didn't want me talking about him. He can
just go fuck him self because I am not about to put up with
that bullshit for a fucking heart beat.
You know
what surprises me the most is when people out there like to
write letters to me or my friends and talk shit about the other
person. It's such bullshit.
I bet
you didn't know this but I delete a lot of the passage I wrote
earlier. I try not to ever go back and take back something I
have written but sometimes I... I made this golden rule a long
time ago that I couldn't go back and change something I had
written. I have taken some incriminating things out about my
mom and once I hid a part where I was too open about something
and Geoff busted me so I uncommented it again but if something
happens that same day... then I allow myself to go back and
delete it. Just like I am deleting that sappy bullshit I wrote
about someone that was making "the move" on both me and Jenna.
What a fucking moron.
Too bad
he doesn't know that it goes both ways and you never know what
I was lying about. I have found myself to be quite a proficient
liar under certain circumstances. I used to believe I was so
honest but I do lie.
By the
way... I am going to be in Russia this August. I came up with
a proposal to go to the Crimea this summer and do a cultural
study on Kazantip and my boss approved it only because I said
I would front the money on my own.
I am so
fucking EXCITED to be going. I can see my Roman this summer
and he always restores my faith in men. When I called him the
other day he told me how the White Nights were keeping him awake
and I just smiled. I am so fucking excited to be going to the
Crimea this summer. I wish I could go for longer than a couple
of weeks...
Friday
June 30, 2000
What a
piece of shit. "I stressed it was a CASUAL meeting." Then he
blocks my e-mail as if I were a stalker, just so he could get
in the last word. Why don't you casually go fuck yourself Chris.
It's scum like you that give men a bad name.
Maybe
I am being too hard on him, maybe he really is a decent person
but I don't give a flying fuck anymore. As Jenna and I were
walking down waterfront park after enjoying a delectable dinner
of Pad Thai she was telling me some of the things women did
to fuck up their lives. I think I am just going to put all of
my energy into myself instead of having to worry about fucking
pieces of shit that see me as a novelty because I can ejaculate.
Hello...
assholes of the world this is my edict. If I broke up with Kevin
because he couldn't say he loved me what makes you think I want
your ass? I am sick of these bullshit games people play and
I just want some fucking honesty. Better yet I think I would
enjoy fucking myself even more because I know how to do it properly.
And if I want a piece of ass I can go fuck Kevin. I have been
training him over a year now and he honestly knows how to get
the job done. I'm not into one night stands and I am not into
married men either. After seeing what HELL was forced upon me
as a child because of my daddy couldn't keep his dick in his
pants I vowed I wouldn't do that to some other little girl who
really needs a daddy more then she needs a stud worrying about
who he's going to be fucking next. Put that energy into your
children if you have them, they are the ones that need extra
attention because they are the ones that will love you the rest
of your lives as long as you don't do something stupid and fuck
up their childhoods because you were a selfish prick.
* * *
Can I
tell you how much I love my job?
I think
it was the CFO that said "Yeah... we were looking at your resume
and we thought maybe we found someone that found out about our
company and just wrote all that stuff down."
I was
Vince's photo assisstant today. I am writing... not as fast
as I would like to but I am.
I have
rented a house. Kevin might be my roomie for a while. I could
get a brand new washer then. I think I am one of the luckiest
people on the planet right now. In 6 weeks I will be in Russia
and I am helping and adding to what will be one of the coolest
fucking websites on the planet that will allow me the kind of
flexiblity to live out some of my dreams.
Sometimes
I get a little scared that maybe this is all too good to be
true. That maybe this really isn't my life.
