So much shit.
I love drugs. I love opium. I have to get that shit again. I would have never in a million years thought I would be smoking Opium in bum fuck Kentucky. I thought for sure I would be nestled in a den on huge pillows in the underground of communistic China.
Maybe I dreamed of that. That first hit was the most comfort I have ever felt from any fucking drug all mixed together.
So that was a saving grace of the trip/vacation from hell.
My nephew actually wanted to spend time with me! I was so happy. It was amazing. My grandmother thought I didn't love her because when I go there I have to take breaks and go to Louisville and run errands and bullshit like that.
We played cards. A lot. He learned hearts and rummy.
Anne and me really got into it. So bad that Nate even said from the other room "I wish they would just shut up."
I was screaming at Anne. "I don't understand how you can have compassion for 30 other strangers with your disease than our own flesh and blood."
Fuck this bitch. My aunt that I haven't heard from since Poppa died and who knows how many years before that has stage 4 ovarian cancer and I do not have the needed shoulder for my cousin to lean on.
I'm fucking sorry but I let her have it. "Anne, I wake up with my hands NUMB and I wonder if I am going to still have use of them by the end of the day or if today is the day I am going to be paralyzed."
(FRAGMENTED ARGUMENT PIECED BACK TOGETHER THE BEST I CAN) "You're not going paralyzed. I would like to talk to the doctor that told you that." said much earlier than the above statement.
My diary is going to be a best seller because it's filthy. It's so bad I should just burn it.
"You have 2 degrees... you don't HAVE TO... (publish your diary)"
"You have 2 degrees... you dont' have to break horses (especially since you only had surgery 3 weeks ago)."
I had been crying for 2 days. I wasted 2 days doing the one thing I hate doing since they put these fucking screws in my head, crying. I woke up with puffy eyes and a shitty attitude.
The FIRST week I have had off since I FUCKING HAD BRAIN SURGERY and I get to spend it like this! And they have to wonder why I don't want to fucking come home?
She's spinning Granny. I can't stand it. Puts her slant on everything. I'm a drug addict. Now was I made a drug addict by the institution that refused to treat me? Are the doctors full of shit if they give me a walker, keep me on 4 + Vicodin a day AND other nasty drugs?
Granny is passed out from the Vicodin that she is on. I laugh. It does different things to different people. To me it lets me use my body.
I EVEN GOT THE THOMAS COMPARISON.
Speaking of which... I got this amusingly heartbreaking letter today:
I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate you putting your thoughts
out there for people to see. I know your brother and sister-in-law and they
can both kiss my ass. If I had found your diary earlier maybe I wouldn't
have had the problems I did with them.
I'll give you a little background without boring you. Your sister-in-law
used the screenname Voodoorexy in chat rooms at Pogo.com. She became very
friendly with my husband and me, calling us bro and sis. That was all just
a load of bullshit as she set out to literally buy my husband. She never
really wanted him, she just wanted to see if she could take him away from
me. Thank god he wised up before he got really stupid and did leave. They
did sleep together in January of 2003 though, so if she's had a baby around
September or October it won't be your brothers. I am attaching a word
document where I saved some of her emails to me talking about how much she
loved my husband. She said she was half vampire and all kinds of shit. She
is completly nuts and after reading your journal, I think your brother
deserves her and she deserves him. The very last part came in an email she
had to send from your brother's name on AOL as she was blocked by us. As
you can see, once my husband made the choice to stay home, she turned on him
very viciously. Once again, thank you for posting your thoughts in a public
forum. I wish I had the courage you have. I didn't know for a fact that he
slept with the cunt until I was four months pregnant. But instead of
destroying us, it did indeed make our marriage stronger, he knows for a fact
he can't find a better wife than me.
Sincerely,
Sin
I had to laugh. How white trash. How typical. Cheating on my brother after they lose the house. Looking to upgrade to a husband that actually earns a living.
But yeah, I take Vicodin for fun. I love runining my perceptions beyond what they already are and taking shit from assholes that are too ignorant (except for Lesli) to even try to begin to understand my fucking disease.
I'm over it. I'm over that asshole. I am over my family. I am over BS.
I laughed my ass off about the Simple Life especially after watching the porno that is oh so taboo. Naturally Olga sent it to me.
I drove through Louisville in a daze after seeing Bo. He got me stoned. He didn't meet up with me though and that pissed me off. I guess I have to bill him now.
I can't get over how much we are alike in so many ways.
When I am hanging with her and her husband I feel like that time when you sit
and watch everything move while just enjoying one another's energy. I must
admit we work well as a team. I am doing my best to please her and she is,
indeed, pleased.
The chef flips his knives around like a dancer twirls her legs in a never
ending pirouette. I am distracted by the conversation and the food and the
day and the sake and her birthday and the happiness and deep appreiation I
feel for having her as my boss, living my life 10 minutes from the Sunset strip,
having 4 lovers since I started this new job and being a decent and loving
person.
I realize that it's hard for my family to recognize that I am doing something I REALLY REALLY LOVE for the first time in my life and all things are going well. Had sex with Andy. That was comfort and joy.
I bought size 12 pants. I lost so much weight. So much shit going on. Not enough time to write about it all. I'm enjoying my life more and more.
I'm *gasp* happy and Thankful to be a California girl.
Wednesday
December 3, 2003
My book has been here for the last week or so. I just found
it because it was hidden under some of Zorba's clothes.
I can't take it anymore. He's got to go.
I watched the simple life tonight. What a gas. I wonder if
they realized how ludricurious they look like on TV. All they
want to do is party, lay out in the sun and enjoy what they
are doing. They never had t o work a day in their lives. That
just fucking scares me. Having thousands and thousands and
millions of dollars.
Is that an attainable goal?
Will people like me?
Sunday
December 7, 2003
It's been a crazy fucked up weedned.
I swear the older I get the more
Sunday
December 14, 2003
Wow... so I am exhausted.
We had an office part 2 Fridays ago and I am just now recovering.
There has been so much stuff going on.
Sleeping, boys, work. Cycle through and continue.
Wednesday
December 18, 2003
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
I had 3 shots of wiskey. There are 2 eights of weed in my purse.
Olga slips off her shoes. I don't want to look behind me anymore. My nervos system is flying. It's 2 am and we have to pay Olga back the money we spent at Qs.
The blue and red lights glimmer above the top part of the celing blending in with the Christmas decor on Stanta Monica Blvd. They memezmerize me in my drunken high stupor.
Jen screams with the Southern Belle accent out the window about how she hates cops. Her last Law Exam is Friday. They will both be free then.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
"Send your good energy for her not to get in trouble." I
say aloud trying to get her to realize that hateful words
could send me to jail and I have (knock on wood) never been
to jail.
Tonight was Dawnette night. After the seafood salad. After the 50 mintues at the gym riding a high bike and then losing sensation in a crecent from my toes to my shin. It's a lovely feeling feeling that part of your nerves die as your foot comes down hard on the pedal. Barely getting ready at 9. After Buzzy flipping on me. After After working a really long day with me having no conception of time. After 3 hours of sleep in which I took no Elavil so I wouldn't deep sleep.
We update one another on the progress of our day. Poor Marie has a broken leg.
I tell her about how she drugs him up in order to have the affair.
"She looked like a ho when Pop died." ... "You
know what today is?"
Bright yellow roses or red ones. I can't make up my mind.
After the text message for an update. After having a wild passionate affair for 2 whopping days with a DUD.
I'm not going to waste my precious time or energy on assholes that won't appreciate me.
I am... exhausted.
Friday December 20, 2003
I was late to work today. We went out and had Sushi for dinner last night. The working out the sake and over working wiped me out. I did not want to get out of bed.
Michell
finally called me again at 9:30 saying "Where are you?"
"Oh fuck!"
She was pissed at me the rest of the day until Jason left. Then she called me on the phone when Jen was in her office and started calling me a bitch for showing up late and going to lunch.
"I've
worked all fucking week for you, bitch, it's not like I didn't
qualify over a million dollars of people wanting Linux Clusters
this week."
$200 for 8 appointments a week. I made 10 today. $40 a lead after 8. 1% of her total sales.
One step closer to selling arms.
And the date (with Seven) was with a neurologist that had a menigonoma. He took me to Housten's and I had seared Ahi. When we dropped me off he gave me a box of See's candy and I was very impressed.
He was affectionate to me during the meal as we discussed our procedures. I was happy. He asked me if I had ever taken liquid vicodan.
So I
went into her office and she told me she was over being mad
at me for oversleeping and taking a long lunch. I was just
like, Whatever. I fucking work harder than all the other
assholes combined. I made like 350 calls this week which
was triple the total of everyone. If I was doing the old
Verio 80+ a day than I am sure I would make more money. We
will go out for "lunch" and smoke a joint and then come back
to work and I will sit at my desk and work through lunch
and forget to take my breaks.
So tonight
I am not happy. I was looking forward to Girl's Night Out
with Olga, Sandy & Co. Fucking Michelle had to tell me that
I wasn't going anywhere that I was going to stay with the
10 people we were with. We went to this beautiful place in
Pasadena and I was stuck there. It didn't matter that I had
made these plans a long time ago. It didn't matter that I
eventually got sick.
I fucking hate James. He's such a worthless piece of shit. He's like that prick Florent and sucking his wife dry and she lets him do it. Then he will sit there and start telling me that my fucking illness doesn't matter to him and I just need to get into shape. I want to kill him. I hate him and I now know karma is a bitch and how all my friends hated that fuck when I was married to him.
Jen started fooling around with this dude named Matt (living at home) and Michelle started kissing on her and then started screaming that Matt wasn't good enough for Jen, which was true. But I sat there and listened to these fucks go over this shit again and again. I didn't even get anything to drink and I guess they picked up the tab.
Then there was the episode at Crocodile where Jen goes crying into the bathroom and I am in there and I pull her into me and hold her and let her cry for a second. Fucking a married man is never easy.
"You fucked up." Olga...
if you don't think I didn't realize this please... give me
some time. I do not always feel in control of my situations
but tonight made me realize that I will never be anywhere
without my mode of transportation again. I don't want to
fucking do Buzzy's job of driving to fucking Marina Del Rey
to get pot.
So things are getting really old really quick. Instead of being like the Christmas goose getting fattened up I feel like it's the opposite and they want me to be thinner so James would want to fuck me.
The people tonight... were so not my crowd. It would have been nice to have been down in Marina Del Rey with Olga and Sandy.
Fuck it. The other night I met her at a bar and she just fucking flirted with other men anyway. I am sick of being in that position. I am tired. I am going to tell people I am doing different things on Christmas and I am just coming home and spending fucking time alone.
I talked
to that stupid asshole today. "I'm going into isolation for 2 weeks..." I
just hung up. I can't bother with that shit. I can't deal
with this other shit and I can honestly say that I hate James.
That bitch needs to afflicted with this disease and then
I would love to see how far he would get. That lazy fuck
won't even clean up the god damn house!
Yet another
reason to think "Consider the source."
So... yeah people are disappointing me but what else is new?
Men suck. Michelle Sucks. Buzzy really fucking sucks and Olga sucks now too. I am so fucking tired and these stupid pricks don't pay attention.
Buzzy...
I got one of those "Fuck you Catherine Clay I told you I would be at your place at 7:30" beep...
Catherine Clay this is Buzzy. It's 7 pm and I am not leaving
until I hear from you... Cunt.
She calls me up and then starts in with her shit. I don't want her shit. I don't want Michelle's shit and I don't want Olga to make me feel bad, dammit. I don't feel that good but I don't take it out on the rest of the world.
"Did you get the boys something? I wanted to get them an x-box?" I
ask Anne.
" I wish I would have known that last night." Well
you stupid bitch, the phone works two ways last time I checked
and I am fucking sick of calling you and liatening to you
bitch and you don't bother to even e-mail me or anything.
As a matter of fact we are back in the pattern where she
would ignore me for months or weeks on end becasue she was
pissed at me. FUCK YOU.
I swear the only people I feel like really get me and my disease are the ghouls in Norther Cali. I should just go up there for Christmas. Erin wrote me the most beautiful letter the other day that made me melt. I love it that someone can put things to me the way I can understand.
"Michelle hasn't sold ANYTHING." Fucking
frenchman. I fucking hate them. He was slithering around
the party and everyone was bitching about Michelle and how
she was but we are a lot alike. GOD I AM GOING TO GO INSANE.
Saturday
December 27, 2003
"She
cut off all her hair."
"What has she been in?" He
asks
"The
Virgin Suicides, Mona Lisa's Smile, Interview With a Vampire."
"I'm
going to go talk to her."
"No you're not. That's gross." It's
too late, he is facinated with Kirstein Durst. If I was there
a second ago I no longer existed then. He would just think
about her while he was jacking off because he touched her
hand while I ran into the bathroom.
I was there long enough. As he was inside probably licking the toliet seat because Kirstein Durst's pussy was there previously a little boy walked around asking for people to buy a toy from him.
"Look all I have is a dollar." she
told the kid. I broke out five and paid him to keep him off
drugs and pary that he never has an arachnoid cyst so that
he's hooked on vicodin for the rest of his life.
I did
something today that Kirstein Dunst didn't do and that was
help keep a black kid off drugs. Me, coming out of an atom
bomb hellish existance sitting on Beverly and some street
and evesdropping "I gotta see how good my movie's doing."
Sunday December 28, 2003
The happiest day of my life.
The happiest day of my life did not involve sex in any way shape or form. It was the happiest day of my life simply because I found the perfect companion to go with me to the happiest place on earth.
Dallas worked at Disney. We talked about many things today. I am in awe at the science she knows and how delighted I am that she can teach me little factoids about the planets and other things that are important.
I think I spent way too much money. YIKES.
I sent my nephews an Xbox because Granny said that if I did that for them I didn't have to pay her back the $336 it cost to "buy" my ticket home. Note to self. Keep the flight attendant as a lover just because.
Love... I have discovered is a gigantic mystery. Some crazy jew thought that because he didn't let me design his website and I really need the money then, and he wouldn't kiss me on the mouth that I would suck on his large cock.
I played with him like he has never been played with. I hope to god I torture his ass until the day he dies that he was never allowed inside my amazing pussy just because he wouldn't kiss me on the lips.
Fuck it. If he was that religious or pious to think that a gentile Southern Princess wasn't good enough for his lips then they sure as hell weren't good enough to wrap around his cock. I think I would rather share such earthly pleasures of a man worthy of my desires.
I hate it when they leave marks. Hickeys... although note to self the first time I am on Conan I want to have a huge fucking hickey on my neck.
I dreamed my dreams. I went to Disney. I got back in touch with myself. I called Anne during "It's a small world." I cried my eyes out when the fireworks were going off thinking about my momma.
Everyone looked at us. Me in my big Russian bunny black hat with fair skin and blonde hair. This one cunt was on my last fucking nerve and she tried to get my dead ass up from drinking my hot chocolate and there was no way I was going to move. I finally uttered "I don't give a fuck" and all of a sudden another table was free for her to show her ass.
The Disney people showed up and I told them that I have a brain tumor and that I can't always control what I say.
Dallas then backed me up with "then she called her a cunt and a bitch" and then I got really pissed off because I was so narced up enjoying my hot fucking choclate running around Disneyland terrorizing with my walker and enjoying those little silver lingings like cutting to the front of the line when you walk up with a walker. Dawnette miraculously calls as the Disney cops are coming up to interrogate me again for my verision of the story because this fucking cow is screaming at them trying to get me kicked out of the park. I smile and laugh with Dawnette and micheviously stare into Dallas's eyes. I am a cunt. I am a bitch. I will never deny having the right to those titles to my name just like I will always accept the fact that I am a Kentucky blue blood American princess and it's my fucking right to do WHAT EVER THE HELL I WANT TO BECAUSE NO ONE CAN STOP ME.
I spent way too much money. This shirt is cool.
I hope Dallas gets a job at Paracel. It would be comforting knowing that she is closer to me and that there would be more stability in my life so I can continue to blossom.
Fucking asshole. AND I HATE BALO. I wish I could get that fucker so fucking far away from my life that I could see straight again from my anger.
YOU ARE NOT IN SURVIVOR MODE. YOU ARE NOT IN SURVIVOR MODE. YOU ARE NOT IN SURVIVOR MODE.
The pain. I don't know how anyone can not understand the torture I got though on a day to day basis. I have largely learned to totally disregard certain aspects of my life that have made me more aware at how dangerous my life is at this moment in time.
I am concerned. But I am more concerned at this fucking pain. How can one person be in so much pain that they can't even wimper? I think I must go mad for a while. I wish I would die. I don't understand why every movement of my body causes me so much pain. My heart breaks... Kimmy S. in danger of never waking up again... and me with my fucking arachnoid cyst wimpering about the pain I am in. In which level do you really become conscious of who you are and what you were doing with your life?
When does it happen that you realize each fraction of a second could mean more and more each day and that the people you spend time with love you no matter who you are and if you have to use a walker. I would die without my girlfriends and family but my heart breaks when I think about Kimmy and Sue and Matt suffering from something I went though but in a different degree.
When is it that you finally realize that there is nothing "they" can do because "they" don't take the time to listen.
I am tired, weak and getting a cold. Probably from Dallas but it would be a great excuse not to go out on New Years. I might just go hang out with Drew and spend some time loving on him. I gave him a blow job the other day that freaked me out it was so damn good. I used one hand on his chode and massaged while taking my other hand and going up and down the shaft of his cock. With my tongue and teeth I licked the hole of his cock while my teeth ran along the head.
I so need to write a book on the etiquette of love. Maybe that is something I can work on once my book is a success. I am so banking on it. I just hope that I can live long enough to see how successful I could be.
I'm in touch with my dreams. It was the happiest day of my life. It didn't involve sex and I wish I could have kicked that fucking whore's ass if I had heard her call me a cunt and a bitch. I would have beaten her.
I am tired and it's almost time to wake up to go to work. I didn't take my elavil. When I don't take it I become more moody but then I don't need as much sleep. Note to self. Get in bed with the doctor. Get some good fucking drugs. Have a really fucking good time.
LOADED
Wednesday
December 31, 2003
Wow. It's the last entry of the year...
Air matresses lined up outside my office building. I should be there but I wanted to rest in my own home. Another New Years alone. I am hiding from the world. I went and had a drink with the doctor today. I feel like a "whoops I didn't mean to make wild passionate love to you the other day. You're not wearing stockings with those boots?"
Hmmm... this may be interesting. Well it's already interesting. He showed me today where his menignomia is. I talked to a woman that has an AC in the same place.
Back handed compliments. Those must be my favorites as I seem to be getting several of them. I was told of my charms and that I can't really be so ill as I claim but acting is nothing new to me. Acting like a wife. Acting like the daughter. Acting the favorite Aunt (and I know I will forever live in infamy now that I got those boys that thing).
"I mean, Steven, come on. If I felt well then I wouldn't be tired all the time. I have been suffering for 14 years now."
"I can't work on children because they have this fear. You have many fears."
"Like what?"
"A fear of dying."
"Everyone has that." Just not this shit. The whole dying a slow painful death thing. So I challenged him to make me feel better.
I don't care if he is married. I don't care about anything but getting help for people like me. If he can put his mind to good use by ensuring that I am not suffering that's all I care about.
It's been a restless 2 weeks. I have entertained several gentlemen to stave off this horrid painful feeling. "The only time I feel good is when I have sex. I don't know if that has anything to do with my pitutary gland expanding..." Looking at my scans with him the other day and then looking at his today was quite the experience. He was a great lover in several ways. I don't know how he does it. I don't even know if he is married. I think not because he locked his guests out the other day but I know he has 2 kids so I wonder about this.
"If I come to the parade and I call you will you get me in?" He loves that I work for Paracel. There are things I like about this more more than others so I let myself fantazie about enjoying many pleasures together.
Andy wanted to come. I forgot to call him to tell him to come but I thought it would be nicer to go on a trip together instead.
The pain... Sometimes I feel like I am just going to drop dead. Lately it's been feeling like a spike is going straight up my spine and out my eye balls. "There are ways you can control these things."
"You think I haven't tried just about anything?"
