Tuesday
January 1, 2002
A new
year a new start a new life a fresh... fart?
I'm feeling
SOOOOOOOOOOOOO much better than I did 3 weeks ago... and worse
in other ways.
Florent
started to "open" my eyes to how I am being "used" lately. I
think he was trying to turn me against my friends which really
pissed me off and in turn I started telling him what he was
doing to really piss me off.
For the
last few days we have talked and talked and talked about all
the things that happened this last year that I wasn't too happy
about. He tried to turn it around so it didn't sound so bad
to him but naturally I put the Cathy Clay twist back on his
words and showed him another more painful perspective.
I told
him that I wasn't happy that he is not working right now and
that he really needs to get his ass in gear or I am leaving
his dead ass.
I have
heard a litany of excuses from "I'm working on it BABY!" to
whatever.
I have
tolerated so much that I can't even stand myself these days.
I don't know what's in my head that makes things OK until they
get so completely fucked that they are almost irreparable.
I started
looking for places to share just to get the fuck out of this
mess I am in but once again that might be seen as running away
from my problems and that is not a solution.
Since
he quit his job last month he has done nothing but "work for
me" trying to get the car and other things situated but I got
really sick of hearing it and I know it does not take 40 hours
a week to get shit situated.
Last night
he was very torn up when he told me that taking me to the hospital
was very hard on him but the hospital was like a second home
for me when I was a teenager so it doesn't mean the same to
me.
So I have
decided to set certain goals for myself and for us as a couple.
We have
talked and talked and talked and talked about each other. Mostly
me telling him the things that really made me want to leave
him like not taking a bath and me constantly telling him he
stinks and him acting like it was no big fucking deal.
I think
he has some validity in saying that I allow myself to be used
too easily. I can't wait for Jen to have her own place again
so she has her things and her animals with her because I honestly
don't enjoy stepping in cat piss in the morning.
I feel
kind of wrung out. I feel somewhat cheated on so many levels.
I am sure a lot of people are feeling that way. I wish I could
just fucking forget 2001 ever happened. I know I am not the
only one.
I feel
like I should take the time and actually write a novel. Write
about how I feel about certain aspects to our culture that I
don't necessarily agree with.
Florent's
mother sent us the most wonderful Champagne
I have ever had. It's by Fleury-Gille and it's a Brut. The other
day we saw a preview for the Count of Monti Cristo and
it was filmed in Marseilles. I almost had an orgasm when I realized
that's where Florent is from and the first view I had of Marseilles
was from the trailer of a movie.
Then I
did some research and saw all these amazing photographs of Marseilles.
I don't know why in the hell we are living here in this shit
hole. I would much rather be sitting in the house he is to share
with his cousins not worrying about how we are to make rent
then freaking the fuck out about my health in a system where
I don't have health insurance and living a life where I feel
like I am busting my ass for nothing.
I don't
know... I hate it when I am pushed into a corner and made to
express my feelings because I was never allowed to do it as
a child and I don't know how to do it in a constructive manner.
I have
made him feel like shit and in some ways that's great because
maybe he actually will go out there and get a great fucking
job but then I know I won't see him as much nor do I think he
will ever forgive me of the "defaults" I have told him about
that he never wished to contend with. His face is filled with
a sadness I created and it hurts a lot but I guess that is better
than
I told
him that he really pissed me off because he never finished Ori's
website. We cant' go into business together if I am busting
my ass to get my shit done and he just fucks around.
I also
told him I was extremely upset that I didn't get to go to France
with him this summer and that a lot of mess could have been
avoided. He rationalized it all out to me and then I was like
"You denied the honor of my mother in law meeting me."
I also
can't stand it that he didn't tell his mother we were married
until he went home in September. That hurt a lot. I felt like
he was ashamed of me.
If I sit
here and start feeling all the bad feelings then I can honestly
come up with more reasons to leave him and just go on with my
life but... I'm in love with him and we all know that being
in love with someone always fucks everything up.
At this
point I can push the love I have for him into a dark recess
of my mind and really allow myself to mourn the loss of what
I thought was something great and spectacular. I even find myself
perusing the personals in a shameful moment of escapism just
to imagine what it would be like to be with someone else.
I told
the other Jen that I wanted a divorce and she said that is an
emotion I will be in touch with daily for the rest of my life.
I guess no matter how much you love someone there is always
that insanity or touch of reality that is screaming that you
are fucking up your life and you would be better off alone.
I had
a wonderful dream about my mom last night. We were at a consignment
shop (something we always used to do when she was alive) and
looking at stuff and for some reason, that was my shop. It was
in a post-industrial place and for some reason I was breaking
into these warehouses trying to get away from something. It
was a weird dream.
In exactly
6 months it's my birthday and I don't feel like I have accomplished
jack shit because I am so fucking broke. I keep thinking that
maybe I can sell my diary and make some money but I don't have
the energy or determination to face so much rejection. Part
of me has given up the idea that life will start working out
for me and I will be successful beyond my wildest dreams but
then that would be taking away my hope as well and without hope
of having an equally successful life as much as I have been
dicked around seems too much of a despairing notion.
I think
time is the only thing that can heal this wound. And maybe facing
reality for all it's pain and glory.
Then I
think of Muhammad Ali. I think of the things he said and the
way he lived his life and I know that mother fucker is a true
Clay because no one else on earth can exhibit such an ego without
feeling that Clay blood coursing through their veins.
Wednesday
January 2, 2002
I'm working
for onestop.net now. I really like my job because last week
I got to be at home.
I would
like to congratulate Sue on getting awesome grades.
I think
I might take French this semester at Santa Monica College. And
maybe a photography course so I can print some of my thousands
of images. I think that might be a good thing. Maybe even a
computer class.
I also
called to become a contestant on "the Chair". You can win money
as long as your heart rate doesn't go past a certain point.
Maybe that biofeedback will be put to good use. Maybe I can
win enough money to actually pay off my student loans or even
better buy a house.
Or maybe
I won't even get to be a contestant. Maybe I will be stuck doing
the same shit different day for the rest of my life.
I was
chatting with Geoff earlier. He said I have been wanting to
leave Florent since the beginning. And talking to Jen II she
tells me I will want to divorce him everyday. I wish we "would
work out our differences" too.
I had
wanted to go to the see
the floats and take photos but I think the floats are going
to be dismantled tomorrow. That really bums me out. I even told
my grandma that I was going to go and she said she would really
like to see photos of that.
I think
I am going to make her a book of my adventures since I didn't
get to send her a Christmas present.
It really
feels good that my mother in law sent me some gifts. I feel
like she really out did herself for someone she doesn't even
know but for some reason... I think she does. I can't wait to
kiss her cheeks.
So maybe
I should work on these feelings of being a failure. I guess
even the best of people go through hard times.
I'm signing
off wishing the best of Health to Miss Julie. She's been a little
under the weather lately. So my prayers go out to you this night
as I gracefully fall asleep.
Friday
January 4, 2002
I made
enough money to pay the rent this month. Plus Florent had a
little bit of money. Although the guy that filled out a check
for me the other day wasn't thinking and put my last name as
Cole.
That's
kind of cool. Catherine Cole. It's not Catherine Clay.
I woke
up cold this morning.... something's going on. I went to bed
with my head wet. Bad Bad Bad thing. My thirod might be off.
I made
a necklace tonight from one I bought in Italy and broke.
Sunday
January 6, 2002
We made
rent without Lisa's rent. I can't wait to tell her bye bye.
She gave us her 30 days notice last month after she told us
she was going to move and acted like she wasn't going to pay.
She is
a piece of shit and I will never trust anyone names Lisa again.
She decided that after she did that that she would use her deposit
to pay her rent only she decided not to move. I hate her. She's
a jerk. Jen tells me I shouldn't be so hard on her but I'm sorry,
I can't stand to be around people that don't share some of the
similar values that I do such as not leaving another girlfriend
behind at a club on Halloween.
Anyways...
life is more normal... when my hair is wet thought I start getting
cold.
I overheard
that stupid fucking whore LISA talking to Florent and she sat
there and said "There is no reason for Cathy's Neurological
problems. Or there is no excuse."
I wanted
to scream at her "You have no fucking excuse you worthless piece
of shit."
Jen and
I have been talking about our anger lately. She tells me that
she has an anger management problem but I don't really believe
it. Maybe that's because we are too much alike. Maybe it's because
we don't show that side of ourselves to one another.
But I
mean really... why should I care what a worthless piece of shit
thinks about me anyway? I have fucking done things she will
never do and she is getting old and she is still stupid and
can't hang on to a guy and then there is this stupid fucking
cunt with a neurological problem who has so much going for her
and she has to try and fuck my life up.
I told
her that I wanted to leave Florent and she sat there and fucking
went on and on and on about how I am going to leave him. I have
never met such an immature and spoiled rotten little cunt. It
must be tragic to wake up and look at herself each day.
My god...
is that me?
Oh my
god... there she is! MY INNER BITCH! I've been trying for months
to get a-hold of her, straddle her venom and hatred for the
world and harness her power to make me an even bigger cunt.
I have the will... and I think there is a way.
We can
make her better, and faster and stronger... the BIONIC CUNT!
that's it... I am going to make the bionic cunt. I have to make
uncontrollable first and then injure her some how and then make
her stronger and faster and wetter than ever before.
Wow...
this is hard not having sex with Florent but it's also nice
to have my body back. I think guys have no idea how hard it
is on a woman's body to have sex, especially when she's neurologically
challenged.
Oh wait...
according to Dr. Lisa there is no excuse for me being the way
I am and we can't blame the fucking fact that I have a cyst
in my brain that could be doing major damage like infalmming
the membranes around my god damn spine.
We watched
Memento yesterday and part way today. What a fucked up movie.
I love it because I can relate to the main character. I started
photographing to learn how to remember my life again and once
I have concentrated enough to see the image it lives in my memory
like a rose petal forgotten in a book.
That's
one of the things I miss about my mother. Finding stuff in books.
She would leave flowers, or leaves or just constant little reminders
that she was once there. Like a fairy. Growing up in that huge
fucking house and having all those bookshelves with the smell
of aging books clinging delicately above the dust.
I used
to lay in my bedroom and read and read and read. That was my
first form of escapism to forget the horrid truth that my life
was growing up under my father. My brother actually claimed
that he was the worst abused but it was always my back to the
TV when we would eat dinner. Everyone else got to watch TV but
somehow... that never really bothered me. I had to sit across
from my father's leering face as he would typically be watching
the nightly news or some other show on lynching niggers or burning
jews.
He would
talk about women like the lowly cunts they were neglecting to
understand that his own daughters were little cunts too. You
see for yourself how awful a man can really be and then you
grow up just like him forever tangled in a love/hate relationship
with them.
Jen and
I are both alpha females but I am willing to let that all go.
We have an amazing admiration for one another and that's hard
for me to find. I have several other girlfriends I feel this
with... I watched a show tonight about this guy that had a brain
tumor. He said that ever since he knew it was there he had just
"woken" up. I feel like these chicks I share this with have
"woken" up too.
I know
Florent may not be the most industrious man but he really, really
loves me. In some ways it's overwhelming like when he sits there
and listens to some psycho bitch complain to him about how his
wife is going to leave him because she is going through neurological
fits and divorce is something that is easy to get stuck on but
I know I can not leave him. I can't take care of myself and
even in his own way he has proven to me in several ways that
he will take care of me and right now I know it's the best thing
for me because there is nothing wrong with me.
Monday
January 7, 2002
So...
you see the problem with someone with my condition is that nobody
ever believes you. You can be totally fine one minute and the
next you could just be completely uncontrollable.
The problem
is that you can only focus on what you are doing and the rest
all falls to the wayside. You constantly forget to do things
right because you have so much going on and then you act like
you are normal in front of the doctors because you are sooooo
focused on what they are saying to you that if they saw you
in the world they would see someone totally different.
But then
again... Maybe everybody has these kinds of problems.
I woke
up on the wrong foot this morning. I thought the phone would
ring in the bedroom and it didn't and then it was ringing off
the fucking hook. I couldn't even take a piss.
So it
just seemed like everything was wrong today. I feel like maybe
I should have never left the house.
I needed
to let off some steam so I made love with my husband. He has
to be extra gentle now because it hurts. The last time we made
love the positioning was bad and I felt like I was going to
die. We haven't had sex since and that's been just fine with
me.
I have
been thinking about the whole Florent thing... I know he's a
fucking lazy bum and sometimes I just look at him and I could
kill him because it feels like he is manipulating me but in
some ways I have to remember that I am just about the hardest
person in the world to live with because my moods are so erratic.
I go from 0-Bitch in about -.00000000000000000000000000000000000009133324
of a second. No provocation. No nothing.
We went
to the airport to see Diana and Florent told me "Well... if
she really wanted to see you she would have." which really hurt
my feelings. Security is BAD and I hate that you can't go in
to see someone off anymore. IT breaks my heart.
So...
we came home and I got on the phone with Jen and she said "Cathy,
you know how hard it is to switch your ticket like that... sometimes
it's impossible." He made me cry and I feel like he's just too
fucking stupid to realize that you don't say those kinds of
things to your wife unless you are honestly TRYING to drive
her crazy and make her feel insecure.
I don't
know anymore. In some ways I feel like I have never been so
loved in my life but in other ways... well you know.
I have
to go to sleep soon. I'm very tired and my back hurts.
Wednesday
January 9, 2002
Been busy
busy busy.
Went out
with Jen like in the more glorious days last night. We went
to some place that had German chocolate cake so I ate that first
and soon realized that was not enough so switched to a turkey
meatloaf sandwich.
Charles
is in Mexico so we got to play. Florent was supposed to work
but he was late and they dismissed him. I was glad because after
a night of drinking and having a fucking whore of a room mate
I would rather die then ask if she would let me into my own
house. Joe still has not sent me my keys.
Sew...
we went out drinking. Jen's drinking days are basically over
and she told me last night she was over the bar scene. I can
take it or leave it but I had more fun at Hanoi's down by the
beach.
So we
went to this bar called Flint's and I ended up drinking close
to 3 martinis. They were GEWD.
Then we
went to the Circle Bar in Santa Monica. I should make a page
of the things that are cool to do here.
Tyler
is talking about sending me to India to do come customer service
seminars. That's exciting. And then I get to move my site onto
his servers and I get a gig!
So I was
right in thinking this is my dream job.
Florent
said he might take a job doing Oracle EJB. The training is in
Wisconsin for 6 weeks. I think we could use the time apart.
I feel like I am living like a god damn teenager. I feel like
I live in a closet. Maybe even a tomb.
Wow...
Tyler's dad called
and told him to tell me that I have a sexy voice.
Saturday
January 12, 2002
Wow....
I love my husband. Wow.
I have
a new G4 powerbook laptop. I fucking LOVE it. I love OS X. I'm
talking directly to Andy's machine right now from mine and it
so fucking rocks.
I LOVE
OS X and I am very thankful these days for all the Unix I am
learning. I can totally turn my G4 into a server and run my
web sites off of them. It's so weird to look at the applications
the way I have been looking at my web pages from there server
side.
That means
I can clean up applications now. COOL. I LOVE my new computer.
So Tyler
(my boss), Florent and I drove up to SF last night. It took
forever to get all our shit together and Tyler was trying to
figure out how my computer worked.
Because
I installed some newer sofware my computer rejected the SSH
command which is why SSH wouldn't work. So now I am sitting
here with Tanya and Josh and me and T are drinking tea and eating
Vegan chocolate stuff.
She's
sick as a dog but it's soooooooo nice being here and I saw a
photo of Joe and Sveta together. I think they are in love.
Tuesday
January 15, 2002
That worthless
whore is supposed to be gone by now. Her shit is still here,
her pond is still murkey, and it doesn't look like she moved
one fucking thing except CDs from my God Damn stereo.
Cunt.
I hope she gets a raging rash of something unmentionable right
where everyone can see it.
The drive
down from San Francisco was rough. I FUCKING HATE THE INS. They
"lost" Florent's file so now we have to reapply all over again.
I hate them this is such bullshit and I can't imagine how many
people they do this too.
I also
got another notice in the mail from regarding that "hollywood
flop" director that hired me to do web work and never even paid
me. I reported him to the labor board and it looks like I can
win up to $300 a day for up to one month for non-payment.
Let me
hear a "HELL YEAH!"
Jen is
working and Florent... shit... I fucking hate the INS.
I talked
with a woman earlier and she was telling me how she used to
make $10 an hour in 1972. My how times haven't changed!
I love
my new computer. I can't get over it. yum.
That means
I can start designing more crap-ola.
That means
I can stand to look at the screen longer than Microshit.
Anne lost
her Beau that she imagined treated her like a princess. She
is heart broken. No consolation from me because he was "the
one".
The sad
thing is that I thought of all these beautifull poetic things
to write about and now I can't remember...lost in an essence
of time in which will always be vaguely familiar like looking
at your features in a mirror through a cloud of smoke.
I am cold
right now and somewhat sick to my stomach. It was so strange
to see Josh and Tanya together together. I love her. I love
him. And seeing Sveta in love with Joe. There is an opportunity
to grow up there... but the weather is cold. When I was in the
apartment I was nice and toasty and things were well but out
in the street, leaning against the pink granite wall which runs
parellel to Clay street I was not very comfortable. I forgot
my licence but then Florent remembered my passport. He ran back
to get me...
Why didn't
Bush die? I mean how fucking funny would that have been? Running
an absurd campaign that will never be won just like those "vallient"
doctors always finding the cure for cancer. We must not forget
that even just a century ago they were digging up cadavers to
slice and dice and now so many years later they are still making
a living convincing people that they are helping them.
I honestly
think Computer Science... the science based on nothing... will
always be 100 times more vallient because you can touch so many
people's lives without hurting them. And the ones you hurt...
well what's a little ego?
Is not
the destruction of an ego the most important thing that can
be? I feel like I have a small ego because I am always willing
to put myself aside as I listen to others and be objective about
their situations.
It was
great to hang out with Tanya and not worry about what her boyfriend
thinks of me. And Sveta... my god... what a girlie girl! Joe
has got to be in love with the nails, the hair, the make-up
the body, the attitude.
And just
as I was thinking about that I gently looked over at Florent
and ralized that there are some guys out there that really go
for that. They love the women that have been through so much
instead of the imaginary fairy tale of what could have been
and facing the reality of what really is.
Got to
give it to the power of the pussy. Sveta got him out to San
Francisco quicker than all my begging and pleading. And he is
getting his old job back. So... Things are looking up and I
am back to being more optmistic... at least in my writing.
I'm going
to write a book.
I am...
I swear. That's what the lines I can't remember are all about.
I had
an appointment with a 75 year old neurologist tomorrow. After
talking to his secretary for about 30 minutes I decided that
getting information out of her sucked so if she would let me
talk to the good doctor himself. She finally relented and I
decided that after 3 minutes it would not be in my best interest
to allow this doctor to be my doctor because he hasn't dealt
with enough people that have my problem and one of the first
things out of his mouth was "Well you need to talk to a neurosurgeon
about that."
It seems
like everyone is trying to fuck someone right now. Literally.
Everybody's
bills are fucked up.
What's
wrong with me? I should be the happiest woman on earth... things
are going fairly well but still... I just don't feel good.
Wednesday
January 16, 2002
It's that
time of year again... slipping slipping... no matter what I
do no matter how I feel no matter what's going on in my life
it slowly slips up on me and I feel stripped once again.
I wrap
the package up... not giving it much mind. The black coat with
velvet tips and inside the right pocket is a wooden horse keychain
covered with leather and little beads for eye that I have no
idea where I bought, the soap I got for her in Taiwan, and aptly
enough, the Sensual Art of Bellydancing. I wanted to send it
for Christmas but you know.
She screams
at me on the phone through tears that she can't talk to me right
now.
I sit
here in my bed and work until 3 when the calls and IMs and the
hullaballoo finally lets up I go to work to read messages and
sit at my desk to chat with someone esle who desperately wants
to leave her husband but can't.
I go to
Trader Joe's to get the soybeans that make my lasagna taste
SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO good. I get the tomato sause from Italy that
is packed in a cardboard container with aluminium or some other
kind of foil that keeps it from leaking everywhere as it flys
across the water to sit on the shelf. Fresh ingridents. More
yum. No noodles...
To another
grocery store, the one near Sony studios in Culver City and
I sit there and stare at the black eyed peas as they stare back
at me... I think to myself this could be something exquisite.
I pick them up and a sadness washes over me. Flashback to my
mother as she tries to get the food in her mouth, her last meal.
But it's only an instant and I forget and think about the coat
instead... the one that belonged to my mother. The one I said
Anne and I could share. The one I packed away and hurried to
the post office while the phone was being turned back on today
marvelling at how DSL always works when the line is cut.
I think
about that coat I sent to Anne in hopes of cheering her up because
I now have another that is crumpled in the back seat of my SUV.
Flashbacks
of mother wearing the coat in DC, at home. I had even wanted
to put her Sam's card in it as if she wasn't gone and somehow
just mislaid it.
I stare
at the black eyed peas in my cart and control myself. I look
around at all the black heads standing in long lines as they
are all so tired and just want to get home too. I will not cry.
I will not tear up. I will not show my emotion.
I will
wait until I get in the car to start blubbering. I get in the
car. Nothing.
I cook
dinner. Nothing.
Argue
with the stupid cunt and she sits there and slams me for "marrying
someone just so they can have a green card and they won't leave
me".
Nothing.
Show Florent
what black eyed peas are and tell him how much I miss my mommy
and in his ever so delicate French manner he tells me how my
mother is in everything and how she is beautiful and I think
of her as light the way she used to be when she was young and
fresh and not fucked up by my father.
I can't
cry then, when he puts things so beautifully. But I can cry
now when I think of her wearing her lopsided glasses and I can't
feel her anymore.
And once
the tears roll down my cheek after crying I laugh to myself
when I think about that coat and how it's covered with my cum.
Thursday
January 17, 2002
Pain pain
pain pain pain pain pain pain...
I think
I did too much today.
I pulled
Jen's shit down from the top of our closet so now our fucking
room doesn't look like a god damn oblette. It's nice to be able
to walk around but I did way too much today. I cleaned and I
made my bed and I got ready to go back to SF but then Josh told
me that he was way too sick for us to come up there and I am
sure they don't have a couch yet... so... we can hang out here.
I got
a letter from Diana.
It made
me cry.
