Friday September 1, 2000

"I am a gentleman." He looks at me as he stirs my sugar into my cappichino.

"I noticed."

I notice everything from the way he moved his hips to his inate goofy-ness that comes when someone is so intelligent. I noticed such things as manners that so many people over here seem to lack. I honestly feel like feminism fucked our country up but in many ways I see why it needed to happen.

But still I was a little girl raised by a Southern gentleman. I can look back and say many things about my dad but I can't say that he is not a gentleman. I have actually missed my father more and more these past couple of weeks then I have in a long time. Maybe I am getting over the hurt and maybe there is a way that we can communicate. I think I might be willing to try once again... I still haven't made up my mind.

* * *

I am sleepy. One of the things I LOVE about Roman is how he translates for me. I know there is no way I could ever sound as cool as he translates. I'm not sure I want to.

One of the things I have learned from this trip is to let people be entitled to their opinions and feelings but that doesn't mean you have to feel for them. I think I have so much compassion that I forget that some of the shit I say isn't necessarily coming from my heart. Sometimes I say shit just to say it and I don't really mean it. I understand this aspect about Roman's personality because it's a direct reflection of my own.

I don't think that other women can see that so easily or maybe they can't just take things as they are... I can't really tell. All I know is that I see beyond the bullshit that women create for themselves and the people they love. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing and I don't think it has to be really anything.

It's going to be a full holiday weekend. Lots of partying... Jenna has a great one as will Jason. Lots of drinking this weekend. Tomorrow at Matt and Sues. Tonight with my sister... Sunday with Ian and then on to Danville. I miss my Granny and Pop.

Saturday September 2, 2000

what to say... what to say...

I'm surprised I have a job with the way everyone has been spreading fucking rumors about me while I was gone. I don't understand but I came to the conclusion yesterday that I was just going to do my job and fucking leave and not bother putting in any extra effort right now. I don't think I have won any popularity contests for standing up to our boss...

After learning Zack's little burn for writing about work in his journal I am just going to say that life for me at work is very difficult. I don't understand if we are an Internet Start-up why we can't wear comfy clothes... is it so we can be ogled? I have been thinking of all kinds of fucked up things lately.

Mainly I am not fucking anyone I don't love ever again. I have too much going on in my life for me right now and I want to share it with one person for a while maybe longer... So I think I am going to take more interest in myself for a few months. Try and do things that will help me get ahead instead of falling on my ass. I'm sick of being a giving person and not getting it back but at least now I know for sure that there are very giving men that want to share special desires with special lovers. I always have such high ideals for myself and I have let myself down and suffered for no reason over people I couldn't stand to begin with. I am not putting myself through that cycle anymore. I deserve to be treated like the princess I was raised to be and I feel this awful touch of Clayitis coming on.

Maybe just a little stuck up. Can I be an elitist? I think the reason Roman loves me so much is because I feed his Narcissist manner the way he needs to feel about himself because he is just that fucking special. And in return he feeds mine back in ways I can't even write about.

But that happens with all my friends that I photograph and photograph well. I think I made a decision a long time ago that I would keep my photography more personal because I never imagined hurting anyone with it. I don't really mean to hurt people that read my diary but it invariably happens for some stupid reason. Roman understands this about me... that this can be a face sometimes.

But I know him too well, too. I understand his feelings completely and I know how I can hurt him and he knows how he can hurt me. There were days on this trip that were really hard for me to deal with emotionally but he taught me that I need to quit feeling so much for other people that it's their problem not yours. I think of all the things I needed to learn this was one of the main lessons.

I don't want to seem insensitive or uncaring but I am coming to the point where I don't want to fuck with shitty attitudes or anything anymore. I have a very low tolerance for bullshit and I think I just needed to feel that one strong time to realize that people live their fucking lives the way they want to. If they want to bitch and piss and moan about bullshit all the time that's not my fucking problem. Get a fucking shrink. Realize your fucking mistakes and try to correct them.

I am not going to let myself be treated like shit by anyone. I am too much of a Clay. I am a lady and I am going to be treated like one. By everyone. I deserve the best out of people because I put my best face forward. No one wants to hear me bitch about when I am sad about my mom or if there is something that makes me feel not quite right and that's why I started writing this journal.

I can't even look at Kevin anymore. I can't believe I compromised my standards so easily just to be with someone I thought might love me someday the way I need to be loved but I knew he could never do it and now it's even more obvious then before.

I'm telling you, Russia fucks you up in so many different ways you can't imagine. When the TV Antenna caught on fire in Moscow I about freaked out myself because Apple St., which is not too far from the antenna, is where I used to live. There is just so much turmoil going on in that country you can't imagine what it is like to live there. I know the Russians have to freak when they come here because there is not usually a political crisis going on but then who really gives a fuck if it's not your country? It's nice to be here for a while but then you start to realize that most of the people that surround you would put you in a coma if you talked with them for longer then an hour.

My god I cried the other day for several reasons and one of them being that I was going to miss my friends so much because while I was there I was just a ball of emotions but when I am here I feel cut off from myself. Or maybe it's just so calm that I can actually understand all the fucked up feelings I experience while I am here and realize how much of it is all bullshit.

I have been cleaning my room all day. Putting clothes on hangers, washing clothes that were completely disgusting and worn properly for perhaps the first time they have been my clothes, cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. I washed my sheets and put them back on my bed because I love how soft they are and how they feel next to my body.

I think that if I could find someone to love me and give to me that maybe I wouldn't have to be such a giving person to other people so much. Maybe I could learn to be a bit more selfish... or would it be selfless? Am I selfish now? Am I really a good person, a proper lady, a woman everyone wants to be friends with?

Even with all the rumors flying around about me at work I tend to laugh a bit because I know that everyone was really happy to see me at work again despite my atom bomb explosion before I left that they didn't witness and that David will never forgive me for. Time to find a new job for certain because I don't think it's cool to be betrayed.

I am sitting here eating grapes. Surprisingly enough they are still fresh from when I bought them before I left. While I was in the Crimea, our hosts would go pick some fresh off the vine. In Vesoloye, which means happiness, the grapes were old and you could tell as you worked the seeds out from one that it was a fruit that deserved to be tampered with, that it was that delicious.

Here I get my fish out of a can and I had problems over there eating a fish with it's head on it. Is life more rewarding in the US? Everything that reminds us that we are animals has been taken away and has been presented to us in such a McDonald's cookie cutter way that it's hard to feel much attachment to the earth at all.

The next day if those grapes were outside they were covered in fruit flies. There is just something about allowing your food to decompose naturally that doesn't happen over here. It gets on my nerves sometimes.

Monday September 4, 2000

I've slept a lot today. I slept a lot yesterday.

I have been selfish with my time but I don't give a damn. I am fucked up more now then I ever have been before. Returning to my American life really fucking sucks. I hate it. I hate speaking English because I fuck up my words. I hate listening to people bitch about problems they create for themselves. I am sick of just so much stuff that I hate about American culture... you can't imagine unless you have been overseas.

With this trip to Russia I have now officially lived in Russia 6 months of my life. I quit counting the days this time. I quit trying to remember what my life was over here. Roman chided me several times claiming I am not the same person there as I am here... there I am more free to be me so I am and I know he is right.

There is no law there... there is cohesion among chaos but this time I didn't feel it because I was very well protected much more then any time I have ever been. Not once did I ride on the metro although I wouldn't have minded but there was one time I looked at Roman and told him how completely fucked up this trip was because I was always in a car and never really forced to endure the hell of public transportation. That is unless you consider flagging down private cars for rides public transportation.

I rather amazed myself on that front. I was much better able to flag down cars and get where I needed to be with seemingly little effort. A big difference from when Anne came to see me and I almost got us lost until I told the driver to take us to the river.

I have never felt so protected. Maybe that's another reason I love to be there now with friends because I do feel a gigantic buffer being with them and them me since I do carry an American passport. It allows you certain freedoms that having a Russian one doesn't always allow.

I have so many fucked up stories but tonight... I went from having lunch at my sister's with both of my sisters. Anne is looking for a job and we were both very civil to one another.

Then I went to Ian's and hung out and told Cathy and Bob all about my trip. In a way I blame him for giving me a thirst for travel because he is the first person I ever heard talk about back packing through Europe. And hitching.

It was a great time. I smelled a skunk today rotting on the road and I thought of Roman because he has never smelled the putrid sweetness of such a creature. I wrote to Dima about how warm it is in Kentucky. Amazingly enough I think it was just as hot here as it was when we were in the Crimea.

I swam yesterday at Matt and Sue's. It was bliss. I feel so happy and free in so many ways but still there is a part of me that isn't here... she's over there living a life where going over a 110 miles an hour in a BMW dodging cars as you pass them going into their lane, where I got to spend some really great fucking times with Roman and we laughed and giggled, where I crossed a bridge at midnight with Dima as we tried to make it home before the bridges went back up again. I think about living a life where simple little details actually mean more to the people that surround you more then what ever it is Americans experience with their friends.

Over there I feel like each second of my life counts for something while here I feel like I am stuck in a life I haven't necessarily chosen for myself but am content to living.

I don't think it can last much longer. I'm bored. I need something to do.

Tuesday September 5, 2000

Reclusive and Introverted. There are my moods these days. And sad. I miss my life over there a lot.

As I settle back into the banality of my everyday life I feel so completely changed from who I was just three weeks ago. Call it maturity? The luxury of acting typically American was stripped, not that I am oh-so-typically American anyway.

I think Americans are pussies to a certain degree. On my day off I had the fine pleasure of watching Judge Judy's husband and these people were arguing over a dead pot-bellied pig. Who has so much time in their lives to waste on TV getting your 15 minutes over killing a fucking "pet" ?

I swear to God in our prosperity we have lost a lot of things such as the connection we all feel with the earth. When was the last time you ate fish and it actually had it's head on it? I was sitting in Yalta with Dimog, Sveta, Sveta Sha., Lena and Roman at a place called the Sparrow's Nest and when the waitress brought my food out it was really hard for me to eat it because all I can look at is this thing's head.

Sveta said it was the same thing in Italy.

I am sure I will write about this many times to come, it's something I can't get over for some reason. I used to fish as a girl. For my 10th birthday my daddy got me a fisin' po'. I used to sit on the dock and catch sunfish and bluegill. One time our next door neighbor's Granny fried up our catches for us for dinner. I hated getting scales in my eyes. I wonder who it was that told me that it wasn't ladylike to fish.

When I was on the beach in Vesoloye I loved the sturgeon the most. It was a filet and the skin and bones weren't in the meat so much. But still there was that element that made you feel like you were eating something that once lived.

It's always easier to go get stuff at the store. I need to learn the art of canning. My Granny was canning green beans the other day.

I... I miss him.

I don't usually like to talk about my readers much, but there is this woman named Julie that has been reading me for a while. I should have taken her advice way long ago about that one boy. She works in a camera shop and she offered to help this damsel in distress. That's the kind of shit you can't pay for. I would much rather have 10 people out there somewhere that care enough about me to recognize that we can help each other out when we need it.

have you ever wanted to talk to someone simply because you think you could relate to them? you had no intentions of changing, converting, fixing, or winning them over?

have you ever wanted to talk to someone knowing that the beliefs that you shared were only a small piece of your life, their life, and the world they live in?

These are her words... and naturally of coarse I love to do such things. Roman was giggling because when we were in Volgograd and I was busy buying Souveys some guy came up to him and Dimog and asked if he could just chat with them for a while. I think it adds to Roman's pre-Superstar complex. At least I can say I knew him when he wasn't so famous and he will always let me be a little bit bitchy to him (someone needs to be every once in a while).

It was a great time. We laughed so much this time, I would have liked to have laughed a lot more but I realized it started to get obnoxious. Roman and me together can be very hard for some to take. I love how he translates for me.

When we went mountain biking in Yalta I was complaining about the seats and how my lips were bruised. The next night Roman was telling me how much they thought I was loving the seat.

I looked at him and said "If I was enjoying it that much then you would have never seen me walking my bike." To hear him translate that and to hear Dimog and Sveta Sha. laugh was a great time. I love chillin' c Roman.

Wednesday September 6, 2000

Today my Poppa turns 77.

I had so much to write about... so many things to say and now it's all faded away.

I was pulled to the side concerning a matter of sexual harassment yesterday and that's always fun. Thankfully it wasn't because I offended anyone but was offended when I first started working here. Freaked out would be a better term to use.

Kevin said a lot of things last night. He thought when I got back from Russia that we could start off on a clean slate after all the times we broke up. I have made it pretty clear through my behavior that I am just not putting up with his shit anymore. Life is too short and he wants to bitch about how all his friends have left and there is nothing holding him here in Kanfuckme.

Just quit your bitching and leave me the fuck alone. I certainly don't want him to be my roommate anymore so it's to the poor house with me. I won't get to do shit for some time.

I fantasize about selling all my shit, getting rid of all my things (who doesn't) and just going away and doing things I want to do instead of doing all this shit I have to. As my chemistry teacher, Mr. Bickel, in high school once said "You only have to pay taxes and die." I wonder if he would make allowance to that sentence somehow involving the Internet.

So... that's over. I can honestly say I am happy about it being over too.

Jacinta came over and we talked and talked and talked. I missed her so much and she did me and I know of all my friends she would be the one that could actually enjoy herself if we went to Russia. She lived in St. Petersburg for a year and Finland for 8 months so I think she wouldn't have any romantic notions about what Russia was like and what it isn't.

She told me she never really saw me with an American guy. We talked about it for a while and how European men are so incredibly different. My daddy taught me to have polite manners and I think that is something significant lacking in American culture...

I have said this before and I will say it again I think feminism really ruined a lot of things for women. I think now the roles are blurred and in some ways that can be good but for me I don't think it works. Jacinta was the one that brought it up that with European men your role is clearly defined and there is something comforting about that. It somehow makes sense to me.

And the funny thing is that Russia is so chaotic but her people are so resilient. Taking life as it comes...

I don't know about much but I can say I love the Russian boys. I have read all kinds of books written by all kinds of people and I think that most of those books were wrong about Russian boys. I think they are very sweet and kind and generous and loving. Maybe it's just the boys I know. Don't get me wrong, they aren't perfect. They can be vulgar and barbaric at times but I think I have a better time with Russian boys then American ones.

No matter where I go I am somehow considered one of the boys. Roman made me one of the boys when we were traveling. I got so sick of listening to them talk about getting a piece of ass that one time Dimog was drooling and I looked up at him and said "I have better chances of getting her then you do."

He thought about it for a moment because he understands English and finally said "Fuck you" with a laugh.

Roman commented on my ability to stop people with my words so they couldn't say anything to argue with me. I told him that was the gift of being an attorney's daughter... and I suppose it's also me just taking up for myself.

Thursday September 7, 2000

The clinical prognosis is Post-Russia Depression. Thanks to Dr. D (D is what we call Deanna) I now know that this funk I have been going through is a clear symptom of not being there.

I feel like I always do when I get back from Russia, like a rubber band that needs to be stretched out all the time and shot back. I wanted to see my baby in Chicago but he is suffering from technical difficulties. I miss him a great deal.

So Jacinta and I had a great walk yesterday. We talked about a lot of different things and I even heard words come out of her mouth that I never expected which made me laugh really hard because she is very much a proper lady. She makes me aspire to be a better person just by existing herself. We went over some basic Spanish the other night. I should find a site on the net to learn more vocabulary so that I will actually be able to speak with her in 3 languages.

She talked about moving to Chicago. She tells me that I need to move to Chicago too. I think if I am going to move though it's going to be more like San Fran because that's honestly where I want to be.

I'm so pissed because I had this guy's card when I left for my trip to send my resume and go out there and work but it's long gone. I was lucky the other day I found the addy of this dude going to OSU and I took these beautiful photos of him and his newborn daughter and I was able to send them to him and that made me happy.

That leads me to think of Diana. I fucking miss her like you have no idea. I thought of her on and off in the Crimea, wondering if New Zealand was quite the same.

So I got an e-mail from that dude thanking me for my photos and that's always nice.

After our walk I got ready to go to Headliners with D. She wanted to hear Whetus. They wouldn't let us in because they "sold out" but that didn't really matter because as we pulled up they were singing "I'm just a teen-age dirt bag, baby!" So we stood outside and waited until the song was over and then went to Deddens.

We hung out with Chad and his friend, Erica, and that was fun. Our mommies are buried in the same cemetery.

We went back to my place and talked for a while. D is great to talk with. I never know how to write about people that touch my life but at least I can photograph them and make them understand what they mean to me.

Friday September 8, 2000

My car wouldn't start this morning.

Jenna thinks it's natural for me to be like this... after a mind-bending trip. I don't know what to think. It's raining and I am down. I apologize to those that can't deal with me being down but I can't help feel the way that I do.

I asked her if she saw me as an angry person and she feels that it manifests as me needing attention. I told her it was the other way around. I think my rage and anger are always just below the surface. I just don't feel like hiding my evil face anymore. It's too much work trying to be friendly and happy. I honestly don't know how Roman does it all the time but then I saw a face of him this last time I didn't know existed.

I get sick of being kind of pleasing people and I think I have started to learn that I can only please myself. I have found that when I fill myself up with experiences and adventures I don't feel so lonely.

I miss my mommy. I went to her grave the other day with Pop and Granny and watched as they cried over her body being just 6 feet below them, void of the compassion and love she shared with everybody. A story about a car Poppa paid for and how she always had spending money in her pocket brought tears to my eyes because she could never provide that kind of life for me while she was living.

I talked with the man that found my site by accident and he told me that the house my parents built was probably the reason they divorced. I don't think my mom was willing to give it up. It had 7 bedrooms on both the top and bottom floors. My room overlooked a field and every once in a while I would watch as the sun would go down and a horse would appear in the glimmering distance.

For some reason I don't doubt that that house is the reason my parents marriage failed as well as a host of other reasons. She was loved in ways he could never understand and I think that made him jealous.

But enough about that bullshit. What is something good to talk about?

There is nothing exciting happening in my sex life these days because I am always fucking myself. I think that is a vital condition for all women to understand their own bodies before they share themselves with anyone else. You learn a lot more and you can give a lot more too.

I'm sick of being such a giving person... unless it's a cycle where I get things in return that help me become a better human. I'm tired. I am depressed and I really miss the part of me that I left in Russia.

Saturday September 9, 2000

My eyes adjust to the light as it slowly fades away. I watch as words come together before my eyes and visions of a past which I will never know and stories of a person I can only admire through words and photographs.

I don't know how you don't go blind looking at a computer screen all the time Jacinta gently chides.

My vision is much worse then it used to be but to someone that has to wear glasses any vision without them is a blessing.

I sat and smelled my own odor from my body today after spending time with Billy trying to get my ass into shape. I sweat more this time then the last and every time I seem to think I did more the time before but such evidence leads me to make a different conclusion. I think how much I am going to miss walking with Jacinta and Jenna in the evenings once the sky begins to revolt and mother nature's force must be contended with a barrage of lotions and salves to prevent her torment from showing up on my skin.

I spent part of the day feeling a life I could only feel through photographs the great Mapplethorpe left behind. I had no idea such a deviant way of life existed here in the US. I am sure that life has vanished much as he did and I wonder to myself if he would be appalled by the sacharine of the friends cast as they move through the streets that once used to carry his prized gay porn.

New York isn't what it used to be, right?

In-between fits of downloading the 21 disks of images that cost $238 to acquire from Murphy's (I'm not very happy with the job they did especially when the dude at the counter told me that it would cost about $180 to get them out of hock). I wonder what Mr. Mapplethorpe would make of this electronic age and how easy he would find it to manipulate photographs. I think he was a purist anyway.

The trip was not a complete failure from a photographer's standpoint. There are many salvageable images that tell a unique and sorted story. Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe got off by social deviance but I have found its much easier to get away with a skewed life if you learn the rules and then bend them as you please.

I suppose I lead a very sub servant life without having to compromise my integrity too much. I still take a shower no matter where I go... the word for shower is dousche in Russian... that served as hours of enjoyment for all one night. Try explaining dousche bad to a bunch of men... I think it makes more sense to maybe play with someone's emotions or attitudes through wit and humor then to offend them in conventional ways.

So far I haven't found a golden boy photo of Roman yet and to my utter dismay I have found several photos to have been too dark. Some are breathtaking while others I could live without but never have I had 1/2 of the work cut out for me now that I don't have to scan the fuckers myself.

My computer told me it didn't have enough ram to finish the disk that is in there earlier so I turned it off for a while and am hoping for the best. I think that it cooled down enough... I have batches to automate...

Sunday September 10, 2000

What would have taken me weeks to do by automating was done in one day. Now I have over 500 images from my trip on my computer. Now I have to sort through all the shit. That is kind of depressing where before I could just kill the ones I didn't like and not even bother to scan them. Now my ego has to take a battering as I sort through the shit and shitty photos of me.

My favorite one so far is the one Dima took of me the last day I was there.

I should care more about what I look like but I don't. I think I made that decision long ago that no matter what I would rather be myself then try to impress other people with their own perceptions of me which is why I don't wear make-up and rarely fix my hair. I am thinking about getting a hair-cut again though. One that will be more flattering. I still can't think about wearing make-up everyday though. And well I am working on my weight just because I would like to see what I look like and how other people react to me fitting more into what they want me to be but still saying these things...

No one likes me sad. I don't know how else to be right now. I had a really refreshing look at my life and I find that I am living it by trying to keep everyone content and happy. I am sick of being like that. I am sick of feeling deeply for other people instead of feeling anything for myself.

I started thinking about talking to my dad and then I remembered he is the reason I am like this. He is the one that made me realize that I would not be attractive to other people unless I was thin. That my cunt really doesn't belong to me. How did he do that? He took me to a gynecologist when I was 10 because he thought one of my mother's borders was molesting me and instead of asking me if anyone was fiddling with me he took me straight to the gynecologist to see if I had an STD and/or a hymen. Compound this with an incident from Michael's mother catching us in the closet and her putting a kind of fear into me that I never knew existed... the fear of god and sin.

I think it would be horrible to be raised Catholic. I think it's horrible to raise your children to believe in anything but themselves and you.

Now I am listening to Patti Smith's Horses. I am trying to get a better understanding of what it was like to be a part of her and Robert Mapplethorpe's culture but then I am doing something with myself that I detest, feeling for other people. Maybe it's not so much feeling for other people because let's face it, he was a pioneer. He is someone I can idolize even though he combed the streets searching for pieces of himself that never existed.

Do I do the same thing? Do I purposefully put myself in situations that I can't get out of in order to become a better person? Have I stagnated recently? Am I becoming a bore?

Why do I find it necessary to put problems on myself that I need to create?

I feel like an eel right now. Electric from it's very touch but too slimy to hold on to.

You know I felt very loved and cared for when I was in St. Petersburg. It wasn't just Roman, it was Lena and Dima and all the other cast of characters that I met on the way. Even the militia men played a role for their brief 10 minutes in my life.

How many people are so willing to give up their lives to accommodate someone else? I have met tons of people off the net and they make these promises but always fall short. Maybe the attention I was getting was more pure but even that could get old and I pissed Roman off for feeling for someone else.

I hate that my greatest attributes has to be one of my greatest faults too.

I think back on my life and have come to the conclusion that I have been overtly frivolous with many things... but then I can't judge myself for being that way because at the time that's what I needed.

Zack took down his site. That makes me horribly sad. He's got a lot of shit going on in his life right now and he's not talking to me. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? I think before this last trip to Russia I would have said it was a bad thing but now it's just a thing and that's all there is to it. He's got his shit to sort through and I have mine... but that doesn't mean I don't miss him terribly.

I think this ball of emotions has followed me home. It's compounded by missing so many things and feeling some what disjointed. When did I stop living my life for myself? How can I possibly learn to trust the one person I need to trust more in my life... myself? I wish I believed in me as much as Jenna and Jacinta do.

I can't keep blaming my mother's death for so much shit. I finally am starting to feel that the gap of her not being a part of my life has slowly started to seal itself but still I find I miss her words of wisdom and advise but at the same time I am also aware that her death was also a blessing. I am completely independent whether I like it or not. There really isn't anyone to tell me what to do and now I am realizing that this, too, is just a thing and merits no value judgment.

I envy the freedom Robert Mapplethorpe had as a man and as a photographer. It's kind of hard to believe there was a time when people didn't value photography as an art form... and that I was born in the decade when it started to actually mean something. Reading his biography makes me think of several things. One is that I would love to have a patron that wanted me to succeed beyond both of our wildest dreams... I know I can and will achieve this feat on my own but it's nice to day dream.

I hate working for other people and unfortunately photography isn't one of the fields that allows you the diversity to be so free... at least not here in Kanfuckme. I have learned through others how to be more self-critical of myself and how to obtain an eating disorder again and I can't say that I like that about life.

Plus I am sure you will find this hard to believe but the sexual comments made by other people shock me at times. I am sure this is hard to believe coming from me but it's true. I never knew sexual tension was part of a working environment. Plus I see myself as being more sensual and not so vulgar but I am sure I shock other people as much as they shock me.

I just got off the phone with Jacinta. Neither one of us did anything all weekend. I told her I staying in the house all weekend... I need to go. I actually have plans tonight to meet up with Stephanie and go watch Ben at Artswatch so I need to do Tae-bo now and get ready.

Monday September 11, 2000

All my bills are late. I just don't give a fuck. If you can't make on-line payments then what's the fucking point?

I was awakened by a Charlie horse in my calf this morning. I got it when we went mountain biking in Yalta and aggravated it when I went swimming in the Black Sea. I swam out beyond the buoys with a mask and flippers... I swam as far as I could not feeling so safe but I think that's the way I live my life. After staying out there for some time I went back and kept my face underwater and was delighted by the many different kinds of jellyfish that I saw. The first one I found I tried to take to Roman but I realized I killed it so I didn't pick any others up. There were some bigger than my fist. I touched their back and watched them tentacles retreat from the invasion.

When I got back up on the beach I rubbed my calf and told Roman I had a Charlie Horse. Dimog made fun of me and told me that only rednecks from Kentucky use that phrase.

OK... for all those that are upset that I am sad I just want to say two things. Your a tosser and usually when I get really sad there is something major that happens that makes life and reading this journal so much more enjoyable. I can't always be happy.

THE BAD DAY CURE

For all of you who occasionally have a really bad day and you just need to take it out on someone!!! Don't take that bad day out on someone you know, take it out on someone you DON'T know!!!

I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered a phone call I had to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello?" I politely said, "This is Patrick Hanifin and could I please speak to Robin Carter?" Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me! I couldn't believe that anyone could be that rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. She had transposed the last two digits incorrectly.

After I hung up with Robin, I spotted the wrong number still lying there on my desk. I decided to call it again. When the same person once more answered, I yelled "You're a tosser!" and hung up. Next to his phone number I wrote the word "tosser," and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or had a really bad day, I'd call him up. He'd answer, and I'd yell, "You're a tosser!" It would always cheer me up.

Later in the year the phone company introduced caller ID. This was a real disappointment for me, I would have to stop calling the tosser. Then one day I had an idea. I dialed his number, then heard his voice, "Hello."

I made up a name. "Hi. This is the sales office of the telephone company and I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with our caller ID program?" He went, "No!" and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're a tosser!"

The reason I took the time to tell you this story, is to show you how if there's ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it. Just dial 0171 823-4863. Keep reading, it gets better.!

CHAPTER 2

An old lady at the shopping centre really took her time pulling out of the parking pace. I didn't think she was ever going to leave. Finally, her car began to move and she started to very slowly back out of the slot. I backed up a little more to give her plenty of room to pull out. Great, I thought, she's finally leaving. All of a sudden this black BMW came flying up the parking aisle in the wrong direction and pulled into her space. I hit the horn and started yelling, "You can't do that. I was here first!" The guy climbed out of his BMW completely ignoring me. He walked toward the shopping centre as if he didn't even hear me. I thought to myself, this guy's a tosser, there sure are a lot of tossers in this world. I noticed he had a "For Sale" sign in the back window of his car. I wrote down the number. Then I hunted for another place to park.

A couple of days later, I'm at home sitting at my desk. I had just got off the phone after calling 823-4863 and yelling, "You're a tosser!" (It's really easy to call him now since I have his number on speed dial.) I noticed the phone number of the guy with the black BMW lying on my desk and thought I'd better call this guy too. After a couple of rings someone answered the phone and said, "Hello." I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?" "Yes, it is." "Can you tell me where I can see it?" "Yes, I live at 182 West street, London. It's a yellow house and the car's parked right out front." I said, "What's your name?" "My name is Don Hansen." "When's a good time to catch you, Don?" "I'm home in the evenings." "Listen Don, can I tell you something?" "Yes," "Don, you're a tosser!" And I slammed the phone down. After I hung up I added Don Hansen's number to my speed dialer.

For a while things seemed to be going better for me. Now when I had a problem I had two tossers to call. Then, after several months of calling the tossers and hanging up on them, it just wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. I gave the problem some serious thought and came up with a solution: First, I had my phone dial tosser #1. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello." I yelled "You're a tosser!", but I didn't hang up. The tosser said, "Are you still there?" I said, "Yeah." He said, "Stop calling me." I said, "No." He said, "What's your name, Pal?" I said, "Don Hansen." He said "Where do you live?" "182 West Street, London. It's a yellow house and my black BMW's parked out front." "I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better start saying your prayers." "Yeah, like I'm really scared, tosser!" and I hung up. Then I called tosser #2. He answered, Hello." I said, "Hello, tosser!" He said, "If I ever find out who you are..." "You'll what?" "I'll kick your arse." "Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now, tosser!" And I hung up. Then I picked up the phone and called the police. I told them I was at 182 West Street, London and that I as going to kill my gay lover as soon as I got home. I climbed into my car and headed over to West Street to watch the whole thing. Glorious! Watching the two tossers kicking the crap out of each other before being arrested as one of the greatest experiences of my life!

* * *

If that made you laugh as much as it made me laugh then it had to put you in a better mood, you fucking tosser.

The Lull Account is the name of Ben's band. He and Duncan are musicians. Duncan used to be in all kinds of famous crazy bands her in Kanfuckme. Now he's moved to Boulder.

It was a good concert. I am sure they can go far. I really admire Ben for his creativity and hey, he's pretty hot too. I had a naughty dream about him last night.

That's kind of nice... I am dreaming again.

Last night I ached to have my camera with me as Stephanie and I took a walk around the resovouir. She lived in Eastern Germany fucking around for a year. She speaks German fluently and told me that there is one word the Germans used to describe American culture. To hear her speak German is truly amazing because she does so without an accent, but then again her mommy is German.

That word they used to describe American society is superficiality.

Make me love you, make me hate you but please don't be superficial. Be someone I can detest because you have strong opinions that I can't deal with but don't ever filter life through superficial bullshit. Take it for what it is and what it means to you and don't ever let anyone tell you what you need to think or believe because chances are they are wrong and it's just better to live your life for yourself and see things with your own eyes.

That used to be a pervading theme early on in my diary. My perceptions are going to be completely different then yours. That doesn't mean I am right, that doesn't mean I a wrong it's just a different point of view.

We don't have to see eye to eye on everything but I think it's necessary to push yourself in directions that allow you to grow and change as a person.

I used to be extremely self-critical. The way I used to talk to and about myself I would never say about anyone else and I found after momma died that I wasn't going to hurt myself with negative bullshit other people tried to put on to me and you know... it worked for a while.

It worked until the money ran out and I HAD to get a job. I HAD to take care of myself and I HAD to surround myself with people once again. Forced socialization can never be a good thing.

I have to get off here. Time for bed and I need to toss some photos up so everyone in Russia can see them tomorrow.

Tuesday September 12, 2000

Fuck fuck fuck. I had to leave work early today because I had a migraine.

The kind where it felt like a railroad spike was being hammered into the middle of my forehead and my head was being splintered. I started to get nauseated and then I wanted to scream because the pain was almost too much to bear.

I had Deanna take me home and it took everything I had not to start vomiting. Every bump in the road went through the follicle of my hair and brought on a fresh wave of pain covered my eyes to keep the sun from effecting me and got rid of as many smells as possible.

I got home and popped 2 Phrenlin. I love that drug.

Zack quit writing because he had enough shit. Me... I love it when stupid cunts that have nothing better to do but sit on their ass all day searching Ebay for the latest bargain come here and try to tell me how much I suck.

First off I have way too many people coming here blowing sunshine up my ass and happy that they can actually feel someone is here. Second of all... consider the source. If I was sitting on my ass all day and called myself soccer99mom99@yahoo.com that just fucking says it all.

I have met a soccer mom. She was so together it was sick. Take her 4 kids to do whatever the fuck they needed to be done and she had no fucking time for herself. Then she started fucking around, getting into the S&M seen... getting into the kind of bondage that gets you off instead of bullshit other people want you to believe.

She has definitely changed my view of soccer moms. She has told me stories too incredible to believe sometimes but I know she has no reason to lie and I have actually spent some great time with her.

So when I think of a soccer mom I think of some stupid cunt that doesn't even know how to shop for a fucking vibrator on the Internet and instead thinks of BULLSHIT she can write to me to see if I am going to get off on her stupidity.

For the record I have slept with one married man and one married man alone. If his fucking crazy bitch of a wife didn't fuck up the sanctity of marriage there was no way I would have touched him but he also happened to be the first man that ever kissed my lips and we never commsuated our young love as teens.

There is always this incredible attraction for men that you have never slept with. I am always wondering what they would be like in bed but I never let on that I am thinking such things. They don't need to know that.

So... go fucking shop at some dildo shop, honey because apparently you are a raging normal bitch that needs something fatter and bigger in her cunt going 50 miles per hour than her own husband because if he were doing the job there is no fucking way you would be harassing me.

I'm not sorry that my life is infinitely more interesting than yours and people actually come back to see what the fuck I am doing or what I am going to write about next. That is called a gift and talent. If you had any of these qualities maybe you wouldn't be such a judgemental bitch over someone you can't possibly comprehend.

Thursday September 14, 2000

My headache grew worse and worse. I was sitting at my desk trying to concentrate and I barely could finish spell checking when I wrote to Jenna these were the kind of headaches I used to go to the hospital for and get a shot of Demerol.

I called my doctor and she asked why I didn't just go into the emergency room because all the drugs she was telling me were fucking lame and I told her I didn't want to spend the money. She gave me a prescription of Percocet.

So I am not at work today because I am working off a drug-induced haze that wiped out one of the WORST headaches I have had in a long time. Think of someone hammering a rail-road steak into the middle of your forehead and that's basically what kind of headache this was.

These are my two favorite photographs so far.

I took this one on Lenena Street, I think. I was walking around with Dima and I think he thought I was crazy for taking it but I saw the reflection and the differences in the colors and it was beautiful.

I took this one at Lena's family's dacha. Naturally these were taken BEFORE my camera broke. I didn't Photoshop them or do anything to them either. That's how they came out.

OK... I am going back to sleep off this drug-induced haze. I don't think I have a headache anymore... but I can't really tell.

Friday September 15, 2000

I envy Zack and his ability to just be so fed up with this shit he quit doing it. I can't tall you how much I hate it when stupid people say shitty things to me but when some asshole wants to ream me out for being a fucking hypocrite or whatever they see then fuck them. Fuck them fuck them fuck them.

I brag about myself here? I haven't got a fucking mommy or daddy to tell me they are proud of me so someone has to fucking do it and I got sick of waiting for some asshole to write about me and you know what, I discovered I can write a lot better then some asshole anyway.

I'm over confident and egotistical... isn't everyone on the fucking planet? I bet even Mother Teresa got caught up in her own shit every once in a while. Chances are you are just jealous. Maybe not everyone can be over confident... But God Dammit, I have the pedigree, I have decent looks, I fuck like a banshee, I'm educated, FUCKING TALENTED, I have a sick fucked-up sense of humor and I know I bring pleasure to everyone's life I touch. I'm sorry if this has made me over-confident but when you know you leave a wonderful impact on just about everyone you meet then you really start to realize that you are a very special person.

I honestly don't know what to think or how to feel about much of anything anymore. I wouldn't say I have become jaded but jaded it is for lack of a better term. I remember when only smart people were on the Internet and stupid fucks were too busy watching whatever shit the networks fed them. Ahhh... the good 'ol days.

* * *

I GOT LAID OFF!!!! With a week of pay. You would think that I would be sad and crying but actually I feel a sense of freedom I haven't in a while. Maybe this is relief.

I trained Deanna how to do most of my job and they took it away and don't have to pay her near what they were paying me and now Vince will have to use someone else to help him photograph. That's going to suck.

My skills didn't "fit" in a company that uses Russian programmers doing ASP where we do our own photographs and they use my formula for thumbnails.

What the fuck ever.

Then the secretary was like "Are you OK?" All sad and shit.

I looked at her and said "It's just a fucking job." I mean God damn, it's not cancer and I was reminded this week with how bad my head hurt just why I don't need to work in such a stressful environment. What the hell was I supposed to say that I am tragically struck over?

I think I made a major decision though. The people at Voc Rehab said that if I worked for 3 months that they would close my case... well now that I was laid off then that means my case is still open, I can do a business plan and start designing web sites for small companies here in town and at least give them a touch of class on the web until I start getting noticed.

I think this working thing has made me realize a lot of things, but the main one being that I am too much of a Clay to work for someone else and I honestly would rather be setting my own hours of work then having someone else telling me how I need to work.

I need to bust my ass on my resume. Maybe check out some books and re-write it so it sounds better but not too overwhelming. I am thinking once my car is fixed of maybe even running up to Chicago and really looking for a job. I don't know... but I have 5 paid days that I can look and find out!

Saturday September 16, 2000

It started with the yard. This was not my place so the weeds grew up around the hostas. I couldn't take it any more. I started picking out all the weeds and then went and got the lawn mower. I weeded, had fun with the kids next door as Jenna did hand stands. We did cart wheels and somersaults and I cleaned up the yard. Then I cleaned the front stoop. Then I came into the house and moped and vacuumed. I made Kevin clean out the bath tub. I made Kevin clean up shit too.

I can't believe the shit I put up with from him. What the hell was I thinking?

I changed my sheets this morning but my room is still a mess.

In between fits of cleaning I got sucked into watching Beaches. That was a good cry. I cried for the little girl, I cried for her mother's best friend. I cried because I could identify and I wanted to scream to the little girl that it doesn't get any easier the longer your mother is dead.

I went with Marie last night to drop some things off. It's been a hard week. I haven't seen Michelle's parents since she moved back to California. We took a photo of us all and I put my head on her mother's and I wanted to cry then too. I miss feeling those feelings you feel when you are near your mommy.

Plus Marie is leaving.

Jacinta and I have been discussing moving to Chicago. We both want to get out of here. All of our international friends have just about officially left us now so we need a new scene. Jenna was talking about going too.

I don't know where I will end up right now. I am not too worried about it for some reason. I am sure I will find something I like. I don't think it's going to be in Kentucky though.

10 things I will do differently in my next job

• I will not talk in meetings.
• I will keep to myself more.
• I will present myself in a more professional manner
• I will keep myself looking in a professional manner
• I will not use the word cunt in polite conversation
• I will not challenge authority
• I will not make friends at work
• I will never bring up the words "sexual harassment"
• I will be the best employee I can be
• I will not be someone I am not in order to get further in the company

Maybe that is strict and full of contradictions but I don't give a fuck. I am full of contradictions and that is one of the things that make life interesting is solving whatever conflicts you have.

Zack is here tonight. I am so excited. We are going to Becky's house and celebrating her new job as a managing editor of a cooking magazine! She was trained in the French way of cooking and I can't wait to eat her food. I requested something horribly sinful for dessert and I can't wait to eat it.

My tummy is growling.

Monday September 18, 2000

So Deanna was right and you have to be working for a company 6 months before you can draw unemployment. Fuck it I found out I can still sub so I will do that and pick up some free-lance jobs here and there.

I know things will all work out for the better and hopefully I can start a real site where I can sell my photographs on the net for like $10 a pop for an 8X10. That would be cook if I could get mass images like that. Even print the major ones myself... naw. As Marc Tasmin once put it "We need to get her out of the dark room." (since so many people had cancer in my family).

That's our last minute together as a group. The two Svetas and Dima headed to Rostov and we went back to St. Petersburg. Roman was kind of depressed. I'm in the middle and Lena is supporting Roman so he doesn't fall on his ass.

So Marie left today. It was a very sad day. It's been a very strange and fucked up kind of week. Not only was I laid off but Ryan, another designer, was kind of too. Or he kind of quit. I don't understand but I think it's really fucked up to lay off half of your creative department.

It seems that other people were more mad at him then I was but now I am starting to get angry. I mean what the fuck? My skills don't match where they outsource to Russian programmers, we photograph merchandise and write?

Hell-the-fuck-lo?

I just heard from someone... they offered me to do a web site and that makes me happy.

I have been the phone queen tonight. Talked to my sister, Anne, like she was an actual friend on the phone tonight. That conversation lasted 2 hours. Then I talked with Ian for about an hour. Then Stephanie. Restructured my journal so that the directories are clean and the images are in order... etc.

It's healthy to do maintenance every once in a while.

I also took out an add in the San Jose Mercury soliciting my skills as a free-lancer designer and photographer. I think that's what I am going to do. God I feel like a ton of options just opened up for me but it's all fucked up too.

I really, really think I am going to start my own business. There just is no way around it. It would be a big fucking headache, but it would also be a big fucking relief too.

What I would like to do is open up a company in Russia with programmers and shit and pay them good money and they could do the back end hard ass shit and I can make things look pretty. Or go work over there and be a project manager.

But this week I am going to substitute teach. Whoo-hoo! But if I get this other web-site some guy wrote me out of the blue about... that looks like it can be some serious cash.

I'm going to re-design my index page now.

Tuesday September 19, 2000

Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday to you.
Happy Birthday Dear Lessssli
Happy birthday to you.

Today is my sister's birthday and I forgot last time I talked to her because I was excited because Ryan held my hand and helped me complete my first attempt at Flash.

I tried to apply for a bunch of jobs out there and I kept getting rejections from this one site because I don't live in the metro areas of any big city. I called and complained to the press person and well, I guess this "disgruntled web designer" got through the door because before they weren't even willing to consider me and now they are working with me.

So that makes me happy. I have been busting a moving cleaning up shit in my site. I am actually rather pleased with the results I am achieving. Things that used to take me several days to work on only take me 2 to 3 hours now.

I think I have progressed. Ryan was surprised at how many things I was picking up in Flash and to be honest so was I. I can't believe all the things I remembered and how quickly I started catching on.

I think I am going to go... It's Lesli's birthday and it's quite lovely outside. If I hurry up I might be able to get her a yummy cake.

Thursday September 21, 2000

I am a normal mess.

Flipping through the channels I saw my dad on TV. He was doing some shit at the fair and he kept talking about some chick committing suicide. It was fucked up. Part of me can't blame him for not knowing how to be a father because he and his father didn't speak for 14 years.

I talked with Anne the other night and told her my dilemma about contacting him and she said he hasn't changed.

"Did you ask him to pay for your college?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"He said no. He said it would build character for me to pay for it myself."

"Did you remind him how he rode mom's back?"

What the fuck ever. He told me he would pay for my school and he lied. It smarts... I mean how much more character building do I need?

I read in the Mapplethorpe biography when his parents went to see his exhibit and afterwards his mother said "Maybe we just weren't the kind of parents he needed."

So I took some solace from that statement.

I started my period today. I have an interview tomorrow. Kevin took me to lunch at Rocky's and the first thing we ordered was an Italian tea. It was yummy. I downed it so fast my head started to spin.

Lots of things going on these days... I'm too tired to write.

Friday September 22, 2000

I got my car back today!!!! I am so happy. I called and when they told me the price I freaked because I was quoted something else. "You can get it cheaper on the Internet!" I exclaimed.

I looked up the part they needed to fix my car the day she told me about it and found it cheaper but the shipping was several days... for a $30 difference which ended up being like a $70 difference. He came down on the labor because I explained my situation about being laid off.

I would take my truck back to Brown Brother's Collision Center because of this reason and maybe that guy figured out that I might go in one day and get a new car from them because of this.

I'm really fucking pissed now at Dale's Auto Service for not replacing the fucker back in the Spring when it first started to go out. Those fuckers charged me $200 for shit! And then told me that the frame of my car was bent from being hit that one time when it was just the fucking trailer hitch.

You really have to be careful about who to trust these days. Even though I am not happy about the starter costing more I am glad to know it was really put on.

Julie wrote to me yesterday and told me that I fucked my lens up so badly that they had to send it back to Germany. My grandmother's favorite thing to say is "If you ever want it destroyed, give it to Patsy or Cathy." I wear that label like a badge of honor. It's been a while since I really fucked something up so knowing my baby went back to her homeland puts a huge warped smile on my heart.

I got some other good news that I am not going to write about. My sink had a nail in it and the plumber found it. I also figured out why my kitchen was smelling so bad and that's because the cats have been going downstairs and leaving me little presents in the crawl space. So after my interview today, I put on an old pair of jeans and crawled up under the house to get all the cat shit up. I was not happy one bit. I fixed it so they can't go up there anymore.

I watched The Lover last night... well the good parts. I feel like I'm about to explode and write all kinds of sensuous things but I think I am going to wait. It's been over a month since I have been with anyone and my body is craving its lover.

I had naughty dreams the other night.

But I don't want to be so sexual right now. I wonder if I focus that energy in other directions just what kinds of amazing things I can do. I am working on myself. Thinking of ideas that I would like to see come true in the next couple of months if everything works out.

"Where do you want to be in 5 years?"

I wanted to say "Half-way to retirement." But hesitated and said that I wasn't really sure. I told him since I have been through so many things it's really hard for me to make plans that far in advance. I'm pretty much a take it as it comes kind of girl so I'm doing good to think about the tasks at hand. Learning Flash from Ryan,thinking about crazy Russian boys, exercising and cleaning.

That seems to be the main focus in my life right now... cleaning. Jenna told me the other day when a woman cuts her hair she is cleansing herself and now my hair is above my shoulders. I should have had her make it even shorter.

I made plans with Grisha and Julia tonight. It just so happened that when I called him neither one of us had made plans and now I think I can talk about my trip and not feel so overwhelmed.

Kevin offered to cook us dinner when I went to drop his car off. That means he will cook and then wander away for the night. I don't feel like doing much of anything right now... I am sleepy because I was so excited about my interview last night I couldn't fall asleep until 3. Then he woke me up at 7:30 to take him to work. Ugh! So the place is a very cool place. It's an actual Internet company with direct deposit, a 401K and even FREE coke for its employees. And water. And the mascots are Pinky and the Brain. I don't want to get too excited about getting a job because for some reason or another I still might not get it.

It was funny because my boss from when I worked over at the computer lab at the engineering school walked by me as I was leaving. He walked passed me and started to laugh. It's funny to think that the guys now realize they need graphic artists to make their products sell better. Now they get it when before they always used to make fun of me for going to the school of Arts and Crafts.

So I am very hopeful to get this job and work with people I know and engineers. Engineers make sense to me. They are definitely in a world of their own but I understand them.

Things are going well right now. I'm a very happy girl.

Saturday September 23, 2000

I washed my car and put my Maximum RUS sticker on it. Now it looks really cool. I cleaned and then Jenna popped by. We went for one of those soulful walks.

Now my ass is sore.

I have been pampering myself all day. It started yesterday with a clay mask and today it ended with a pumice foot treatment from H2O. I curled my hair and put on make up. I painted my toes the same color as my nails as I watched Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway get blown apart as Bonnie and Clyde . I wonder how different life would be if people were free to make those kinds of mistakes and continue living without people ratting them out.

So... I am dressed up and waiting for Jacinta to give the green light to say she is ready. I knew I should have taken a nap earlier.

Sunday September 24, 2000

You know what I love about being an Internet presence? When people leave you shitty things in your guestbook or in your mailbox you can just delete them from existence. (You can't argue with idiots!)

One of my favorite things to do after someone is stupid and thoughtless by leaving something stupid or shitty is to release all the negativity I have been saving up and write them one of the most foul, hateful letters that they have ever come across.

I think it would almost be worth it to write something shitty so I can come back at you with your own fucking words. I love character assignation.

Why it was just yesterday that I was telling Jenna how Anne was still talking to dad and he said he wouldn't pay for her college. "It would build character." he told her.

This coming from a stuck up blue blood prick whose daddy bought him fucking everything from re-entrances back into Centre College (I guess when you have enough money to piss away on your prick son who is too fucking lazy to get his dead ass out of bed because he was drinking all fucking night and playing cards on 3 separate occasions then you are loaded) to a very expensive high school education. He had fucking everything handed to him on a silver fucking platter by a black nanny. This coming from a prick that saddled up his wife with 3 kids, stole his step-daughter's child support money, and lived off his school teaching wife until he graduated from law school. He would sit on his ass all fucking day when my mother was married to him because he was taught by my grandparents that he never had to do a fucking thing because he had a black nanny. He dumped his wife after fucking his god damn secretary and then took custody of "his" kids where he prized his golden cock child more than the two cunts. (I wonder how much it hurts him to think that his daughter he hates for looking so much like her beautiful mother inherited his intellect while my brother is nothing more than functionally retarded). He paid for prick Jr. to go to a private school, the best in Louisville, while the two cunts had to get a public education.

I was telling Stephanie tonight how much I loved my public education. I told her that I was surprised to discover that people can even interrelate through this form of communication (English is so limiting) because everyone comes from such different backgrounds. But I was glad that I went to a public school (even though there were only 4 black people that graduated in my class) so I could learn all the different aspects of this culture that makes up America.

Stephanie had me reeling tonight. My god I haven't had such intelligent conversations that continually streamed together. We talked about family and life and love and art and political systems. Just all kinds of things.

She made me an Indian dish that was perfect and then fried up some bananas for desert. I had original Chi and had no idea you could make that by hand.

We talked about this disposable society... So many beautiful things. She's Jonesing to get the fuck out of Kentucky. I can't say that I blame her. She is one of my elite "friends that travel" category of friends. Someone who really has a warped view of American society too. We talked about rainbow gatherings and Kazantip. She lived in Germany for almost 2 years.

It's nice to build up a closeness with someone you have known for over 15 years. That you both have had some major experiences in life that maybe before it wasn't so easy to nurture a relationship but now it's nice to know that I can think back to a time when I was kind of immature and see myself as the woman I have always wanted to be and see that there is someone not far behind me.

That rhymed but it's not true. She lived in Germany 2 years after we met. I waited 9 more before I made my first overseas journey. It's strange to see her with womanly eyes because she was always so strong 15 years ago. It's nice to know that not everyone always knows what they are doing at the time they do something.

So that was my evening. My day was spent in the loving embrace of my family. Granny and Pop, Lesli, Doug, Nate, Noah, Jason and Anne and me all went to A Taste of Heaven. It was really good. We went back to Lesli's and sat around and chatted for a while and then went to the grocery. It was a very pleasant time with my family.

The other day I overheard a chick exclaim "My sisters and I live as if we don't need our mother." I was so jealous because I know that I have been living with this wound and always allowing it to open and close without thinking about the important things about life. Momma ain't going to come up out of the ground and save us so I guess it is time to close that chapter.

I miss her but I think I would rather concentrate on having strong relationships with my sisters and getting to know them more. We honestly all live these completely convoluted lives that would hardly ever intersect if we weren't sisters but still I think we all three need to share this philosophy.

So back to that character assignation. Parading his fucking secretaries in front of us, ensuring our safety by allowing criminals to babysit us, screaming at me all the time, using me as a pawn to hurt my mother, calling me a Gordian Knot when he was the fucker that tied it, not dealing with his messes or the responsibility of being a true parent, almost getting me kicked out of band for missing a football game because he was drinking with his buddies, never making sure I had enough clothes to cover my ass, ensuring further peer abuse by being an unaware parent, neglect of interest for your cunt's education but telling your daughter "I'll pay for your college" and not doing it...

I don't have these kinds of people in my life. I have carefully chosen the kinds of friends that are all well educated and caring individuals and I know that I would not choose to have my father as one of my friends. I could go on and on about some of the stupid shit he has done but there is no feeling behind reporting any of it. That kind of abuse is unimaginable to people that don't experience it. These are the kinds of people I like to be around because they have never been so deeply wounded by people they were supposed to trust and let me tell you there is nothing that makes me happier sometimes then talking with Jacinta's father and him actually caring enough about me to remember some of the things going on in my life.

I could never respect my father again for the simple reason of not trusting him. I am all the beautiful things he could never and will never be. I thought about going to law school recently but I always take a step back and look at Kevin and then look at how well the market for a good web designer is and why fuck with some thing that will kill me and strip me of my essence?

I don't think there will be a lawyer in our generation of Clay's and when you think that has been a tradition for over 5 generations... it's a really big fuck you to our fathers because all of them really fucking suck.

Monday September 25, 2000

I was going to have my car VET tested today but they were closed.

The recruiter and the people that want to hire me played phone tag all day.

My scanner isn't working right now... I didn't do much of anything all day. Went to the mall with Jenna. She's pmsing big time. I think that is one think I have noticed as you mature, your hormones kind of level themselves off.

I should have exercised today but I am not feeling like doing much of anything and enjoying my down time before I have to start working again.

Maybe I should be ironing clothes or something...

It's that time of the year again... when it changes in weather and causes flaky skin... it would figure Clinique would be having Bonus Time right when the fall flake begins. I wish I didn't have an obsession with beauty products but I do. Diana called my bathroom "Cathy's Spa" which was fitting I suppose.

I have some French P'tit Dop I bought and I save it because it smells like coconuts. I have H2O shit out the ass because when they first went belly up in Louisville all their shit was half off so I spent $200 and bought a ton of shit.

Tuesday September 26, 2000

Happy birthday to me... Happy Birthday to me... Happy Birthday to me... Happy Birthday to me.

10 years ago they whisked me away on a gurney and sliced open my lip, peeled back my face and sucked the spinal fluid out of my brain.

Who would have ever thought there was so much more to life?

Why does it take a life-threatening illness in order to make people value their lives? I do not have that answer. All I know is that at an early age I understood what a gift this life was and had many obstacles to overcome before I felt comfortable with myself.

I'm all about being expressive. I am so expressive from the way I carry my body to the way I laugh out loud. I enjoy living my life even when things can be hard for me to deal with.

I see myself as an optimistic realist. There are some fundamental truths to life that will never change and there is nothing I can do to stop it but I know that I can control myself, my thoughts, my feelings, the way I present myself and get a maximum effect from people. I think it's called charisma.

The kind of feeling that makes people so comfortable with me that they tell me secrets as deep as being molested by their father to things I wish I could discuss in this diary but I can't for protection of people's fundamental truths and values are at stake. All I have to say is that I have been and seen some of the most fucked up shit on this planet.

Not the kind of base debauchery that other photographer's covet in moonlit photographs of a celebrity but a kind of feelings and sensations that can never be transmitted to film because much like English you can not fully express yourself film is a poor substitute for capturing someone's true essence in that you never know if you are going to get that right moment.

No one has photographs of my face after brain surgery. There are very few photographs of the documenter that never ceases to be the eternal observer.

I don't know why I don't do more self-portraits but I think that's a dichotomy inside of me... I'm more busy documenting what it is I see then paying attention to how my body changes with time. Maybe I see self- documentation as more a sigh of conceit. I dunno.

All I know is that I am happy to be alive and dreaming about my life... it's such a beautiful life.

Wednesday September 27, 2000

My life feels like a whirlwind right now. Everything so chaotic around me. What am I going to do? Why do I choose to live here?

What am I supposed to do with this web site? Should I just take it all down because it is so not politically correct or should I leave it up here for the fucking SPOOF it was supposed to be?

My god, does anyone out there have a fucking sense of humor anymore?

Does anyone get the joke at all?

Has life become so serious that we all lose ourselves out in cyberspace and take everything that we see for face value? My God I am really beginning to doubt that people understand anything about life and the one thing everyone should be entitled to is to EXPRESS THEMSELVES HOW THEY WANT TO.

There really is no such thing as freedom of expression... honestly there isn't because if you choose to express yourself in any way that is outside the norm then you are a "porn queen". My fucking god there is no use.

Sometimes this is a blessing, sometimes this is a curse. Clean it up and make it shine all pretty and then we will give you a job. Hello... I think I have a right to say some of the things I want to say here and not feel like I am any different then the next person in the real world. Just because I exercise a right to my freedom of expression doesn't mean I should be persecuted. I am not trying to convince anyone to join the "Church of Cathy Clay" or kill anyone or even really listen to what I have to say. I am trying to give you something different to consider, maybe a different shade to life then one you wouldn't otherwise.

I don't feel like I slander anyone and Lord only knows if I wanted to rat on people about the kinds of lives they choose to lead then something would happen to me I am sure. People trust me and they tell me things about themselves that they don't share with anybody else.

Do you think I would honestly give that up just because some company doesn't feel this is worthy and has some kind of value here? Oh... I can't make money off of it so it must not be worth anything. I want you to know I have worked my ass off to keep this thing commercial free so you won't be annoyed with Tripod shit coming up or advertising shit you dont' want to read. I do this on purpose so you can see what a site without all that shit on it really means.

I don't know... I am freaking out. I don't want to get my hopes up too high about getting a great job here and then being let down. That just sucks.

Thursday September 28, 2000

I think I just need to sit at a desk far away from other people and their problems. I subbed today and I hate being a bitch and telling everyone to settle down, but if you aren't stern then no one listens and if you are cool they run all over you. It's funny how easy I got used to not dealing with adolecents while I had a real job. One girl even called me a bitch today so I replied "That's Ms. Bitch to you." Then I was called a whore and she came at me like she was going to beat me up but I looked her in the eyes I guess the way anyone that was backed into a corner would and stood my ground even though I wanted to run.

I thought for sure she was going to hit me, she threatened to smack me upside the head several times, but she backed down and a stream of other explicits came out of her mouth extolling the virtures of her substitute teacher.

I don't need this shit. I went back and sat down and almost started crying. No... I really wanted to walk out of the building but as always I stuck it out until the end.

I swear I would rather strip.

Did you know lighter fluid takes out grease stains?

You know it's not all bad... I was asked to be the featured photographer for Babeland... and that's something that has just made my heart soar!

Friday September 29, 2000

Eh... it's Sat. Morning. But I am going to write about my day yesterday.

I subbed for some chick and one of the girls came up to me and said "You are so pretty." I almost started crying because it was such a contrast from being backed into the corner and told I was going to be hit upside the head and that I was a bitch and a whore.

I think teachers like being around the kids and they talk about the kids as much as they can. I had no idea teachers were like that. It really makes me wonder what some of mine used to say about me.

They said the assistant principal would never get promoted because her kids were in a private school. That was a shame. Then one of the teachers was kidding one of the others about how his kids were in a private school.

"Where do they go?"

"Goshen."

"I went there." From 1-3 grade, before my parent's split up I went to Crestwood. And my dad moved us out to Goshen because the school was so much better.

I told Jenna where I taught the other day and she went to middle school where I was accousted. "I am literally scarred for life. I have a mental block of that place." Had I known it was SO bad I wouldn't have taken the assignment. I have taught BD kids before and usually they never gave me that kind of trouble but my god.

I was raised in a cracker white school where we had about 3 black people that graduated with us. I can only remember one in elementary school and he actually ended up graduating with us. It's definitely a cultural experience for me to teach in this school system because I see how my dad was trying to protect us and I keep going back and forth in my mind if it was the right thing to do.

I guess it really doesn't matter if it was right or not because that decision was made long ago. I know white kids can be just as cruel and middle school is always hell.

Then I think about the Russian school system. I think, for the most part, once you start school over there you are in the same class until you graduate unless you move. That means it's like a little family. Maybe that's why their education is better than ours because you are raised with the same people all the time and you have the same teacher, for the most part, until you graduate. I don't know if this was just the school that Sasha went to or not... I need to ask Roman if this is they way it is everywhere.

So yesterday last class was the worst one. I hate being a bitch but after the other day I would rather protect myself. Hardly any of them were paying attention to the story we were reading and after the announcements I said "I am disgusted with your behavior. Last month I was in a place where the adverage salary was $6 a month and here you all are throwing your education away."

"So you think we are stupid?" someone shouted out.

"Yeah." I said. It's not enough to be pretty, or to get As or to actually achieve much of anything unless you put into your education what you get out. I don't care that I went to U of L because after going to Moscow State I figured out that most schools are the same and I am the one that makes a difference in my own education. Where I get it is incidental. I don't owe as much in student loans and I know if I try hard enough in this system those will be paid off in a couple of years anyway.

I also know that I can captivate the intellect of people that have bothered to go to schools better than U of L and they still listen to what I have to say... so whatever.

That doesn't stop me from dreaming about going to the Sorbonne to get my MFA in photography though. Sometimes such dreams are all we can hold on to and I have this fucked up idea that everytime I achieve a certain goal I look around and say "Now what do I do?"

Saturday September 30, 2000

Yeah baby... Jen's in town.

Jenna and I went for a walk around Long Run Park. It was just fantastic there.

Pure
Photography

PHOTOS\

Dr. Block's

Nature

Cubes

Europe

Portraits

Fantasy

Dying

Kazantip

Birthday

Russia '96

Russia

London '99

Stills '98