Sunday, February 1, 1998

Nate put his hands up on the casket and looked in. I said "I can lift you so you can see her better."

"No, I can see just fine."

I picked him up anyways. He looked down at her and said "She was always good to me." That broke my heart. Then he asked "What happened?"

How do you answer a child? I fumbled for "Sometimes, people's bodies eat themselves up, and that's what happened to Bo."

"Put me down."

I feel the holes of my heart filling. It's amazing how quickly I feel the healing process in myself. I feel so strong. All that energy is mine again, and now it scares me because I was intense before, I just think it may be unbearable at times to deal with me. I am forging a relationship with my brother. I am the only one that I think can.

My cat is being extra loving. Laying in my lap, practically falling limp into it.

I don't want to deal with all the people I don't know today.

If dad sends flowers, I am going to go to his house tonight and throw them in his lawn. I will not forget the past, that's too simple, and if he wants a relationship with me, he is going to have to show me that he is worthy of my love.

I felt her when I went in her room last night. It was Amazing. She'll never be gone, and it's so much easier to know she is here with me and no longer suffering. I don't cry anymore. At least I didn't last night and I won't today until I see my friends.

I am going to try to rectify some mess that I suppose I have caused. I don't mean to offend anyone, especially anyone I know personally, but I suppose it sometimes happens.

When I went to Mike's funeral and was talking to a girl named Lisa, and only she and I know who she is and I wrote:

"Hey there Lisa, looks like your pretty fucked up now. Is your grandfather still alive? Oh... he's in ICU. Well, my mom has her good days and bad days but she's getting close..."

"It's about time."

"Thanks, Lisa, would you like to turn that key to my sanity just a little further."

I hurt her because she thinks I made her out to be this horrible person and she isn't. We were both under a lot of stress and when you know someone is going through a lot of shit, you get down to business and cut to the chase.

What I tried to make her understand was with her comment, she was reacting to me the way I asked the question. I was the one that was abrupt and I was the one that could have really given a fuck because I had my own shit to deal with and I suppose I shouldn't have even asked because I knew it was a painful topic.

But, I do not adhere to social conventions so I talk about how I feel and what I think and that's what make me different from other people. I am not proud of myself for making her feel bad, but this is my diary and if you don't like what I have to say, don't read it. I work really hard not to pass judgment on people and just try to state things the way I see them happen. We are all human, after all, and we act as human do. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but always human.

Monday, February 2, 1998

When I got Lisa's letter yesterday, it hurt me so bad. She lamblasted me against the wall and I just didn't need that shit on the day I put my mother in the ground. I tried to be really understanding, because I know she is going through a lot of shit, but that didn't give her the right to take her frustrations out on me. Or she could have waited at least a week. So I won't have anything to do with her anymore. I will be cordial when I see her, but I am not going to put forth an effort to find out how she is doing because I can't afford to care about someone like her, it hurts too much.

I have so many funny stories to tell, but they are going to have to wait. I have to go to the bank and do other trivial shit now. If I get done early, I am going to go to Chicago tonight to be with Zack, the cool one, the one that doesn't hurt me in the least little bit, but loves and cares for me. It's amazing how nice people are...

Tuesday, February 3, 1998

Do you have any idea how fucking cool it is to walk up to a ticket counter with one suitcase, your backpack, and one carry on and buy a ticket to where ever for that day? I tried to get my ticket to Chicago on-line all day without success so I just walked up a half an hour before the plane took off and bought my ticket. It made me hard to realize how much power I have over my own life now. I have also deduced that if you can't pack in a half an hour, then everything you forget is incidental and can be bought in a local drugstore.

There are only three things I need. My computer, my medicine, and my cameras. Damn, I forgot to buy cassettes last night. I brought some dirty clothes, since I haven't been able to do laundry. One thing being my ugly one-piece thingie I bought at Victoria's Secret. Zack doesn't think it's as hideous as I made it out to be earlier.

So my way of dealing with mom dying is to run away. Not only because I don't have to deal with the rest of my family's sadness, but so I can just... look at the funny things about his whole situation.

Maybe I shouldn't say these things, but I don't give a fuck, this is my journal and I will tell you right now, what I am about to say doesn't mean I am cold, or that I don't care about my mother, I do, or I wouldn't have held her in my arms as she died.

But I think she could have put her make-up on better, and she was dead. Or... better yet... If you don't know this, Cover Girl make-up sucks donkey dicks. If you are pale, it leaves you with this lovely orange glow that makes you look as if you have been irradiated. So... I don't suppose they use Clinque or Lancome on dead people, but it must be Cover Girl... I hate that shit.

It's amazing how nice people can be. Everyone kept telling me "If there is anything you need..." So after about the, oh, 100th time of hearing this, I am thinking "Pay my rent?" But then I thought that would be too demanding so I came up with, "All I want (deep breath) is a can of corn. Not just any can of corn, it has to be Del Monte. (Really dramatic sob) BUT NOT THE CREAM KIND!!! And it can't be frozen, either. Just some corn, all I really need is a can of corn."

After we took her to the cemetery, we all went back to her house and ate. It was awesome. It took Granny and Pop a while to get there, but when Granny arrived, she pulled out a bag. It was a can of corn. Not cream styled and it was indeed Del Monte. I told Mom's cousin, Brenda about the can of corn on Saturday and she told me Sunday, "I was going to get you a can of corn... but I (fill in your own excuse because I don't really remember what she said)."

I would like to thank all the people that read this that came a gigantic Thank you, especially Dr. Dakan, since I know he reads this for sure. It means so much to me that you came to share in my misery and that you can fully appreciate the meaning of that "Cover Girl Glow."

Wednesday, February 4, 1998

Today I feel the most vulnerable, or at least I assume that is what this feeling is. I haven't ever experienced it, or if I have, not to this degree. I feel like instead of there being a bunch of holes in my heart, there is just one big one, and it feels as if it's being exposed to the world. Maybe it's because I looked at the photos of my mom dying, in particular, the one of her hand on my knee. I suppose it makes even me uncomfortable.

I am really trying hard not to be consumed with her death. I am just hanging out with Zack, sleeping a whole fucking lot and I suppose it is just going to take a little more time then I want to give. This is one thing my mother never had to go through. She couldn't tell me what it was like to watch your mother die.

I wonder if she appreciated that I held her in my arms when it started. I know she had to be aware of me, or she wouldn't have opened her eyes when I started crying when Lesli said to let her die faster. I don't know who I did it for more, me or her. She was so determined not to die from that disease, but even the strongest of wills can not combat the body alone.

Zack is so wonderful. I couldn't imagine being around anyone else right now. I was here when I found out she was released from treatment back in August and he was just so wonderful. He cares without giving me too much attention, if that makes any sense. He is so concerned, and he wants to help me through this, but I don't really think this is something you can work through with people that haven't been through it, especially people my age. Of all my really close friends, I am the first that has lost a parent, so it effects us all in a way.

Melissa couldn't give me a lot of support now, although during the actual burial, when I sat down, she came up behind me and just stroked my hair when I started crying real hard. That was so comforting. Mom never used to do that. I used to try to do it to mom, but she never could stand it. She would make me stop. As she was dying, I stroked her hair and I remember that she used to not like it, but it gave me great comfort.

Well, I am going to get fucked up. I think I deserve it.

Thursday, February 5, 1998

It's cold here in Chicago, awful cold. So cold that when I went out with Zack last night to his class, I thought the skin on my face would chap from the wind. But it's snowing back home, and I hate the snow. It's snowing so bad, as a matter of fact, that they canceled classes today, so I suppose I am lucky that as it stands, I will just have missed one of PhD. Kloner's class, and 2 of Michelle's. I can't count the rest.

I guess I am really glad that the day mom was buried, it was a beautiful, warm day. The kind of day that hints at Spring. The sun beat down on my black coat and kept my skin warm while my heart grew cold.

I really don't like people.

As if I didn't have enough shit going on in my life, Lisa continued to give me grief about what I had said and whatever. What the fuck ever. She is trying to compare the pain of her life to mine, and you just can't compare the two. I know I am fucking hurting, BAD, so I don't need other people's shit now. And you can't compare close to death with actual death, but the better prepared you are, the easier it is t deal with.

The day we buried mom, Poppa pulled me aside and said "I want you to marry Andy and just forget about that California bullshit." It's like, WHAT THE FUCK??? DID I JUST HEAR WHAT YOU SAID TO ME ON THE DAY WE BURIED MY MOM, YOUR DAUGHTER, RIGHT?

I went ballistic. I started screaming "NO, POPPA. THAT IS MY DREAM AND I'M GOING TO DO IT." It's amazing what fear can do to people. He had to say what I was doing was bullshit so I would "see it his way" for the simple fact that he is scared of his own shadow. I know he thinks because I don't have a cock, I don't know what to do with myself. GOD I'M GLAD I WASN'T BORN IN THE TWENTIES... OR MALE FOR THAT MATTER! No, I am glad that I know the difference. That difference that makes him ignorant. I love my grandfather, but even mom would say he was ignorant, or much worse.

I fucking remember the day his momma died, I wonder how he would have felt if I had degraded him? He was in his sixties... and I am... just a pup.

I realize that "he's an old man" and I respect that he knows how to live, but I live my way and he lives his way and they will never, ever meet. I have learned how to live by either teaching myself or watching those around me.

Back to the Lisa thing... I know she thinks she was trying to be supportive, but she was throughly unsuccessful. And then she made it worse, or I did. I suppose it's a good thing to put anger and frustration off on her, even though now she is getting more then what she deserves. Fuck it, if you are going to play with snakes... suffer the poison. I didn't get to be such a bitch by taking it lying down.

I went with Zack to his crit last night (He took this photo there). I wasn't that impressed with some of the stuff I saw and other work I was, but it was only a preliminary crit. Zack, of coarse, had the most interesting work. He's doing this thing with colors and it was just fascinating.

This other girl took photos of strangers and put personal ads with them so they sounded fucking hilarious. "Hello, I found your ad and saw your photo and was really hoping to get together sometime in the near future."

"Photo? What photo? How did the newspaper get my picture?"

That was a nice distraction.

Then Kevin came by. Zack and Kevin broke up and when they did, I called Kevin a flake for staying with Zack for so long and then telling him he wasn't into him because he wasn't Asian. Boy... did he make me feel about so >- tall. As if I needed more shit. I was scared of running into him actually, but his dad died of Cancer not so long ago as well, so he knows how to walk me through some of this stuff.

Then he went into this speech about what a flake Pisces are and I couldn't tell if he was serious or joking. I think he realized that it was much too early for me to be held accountable for what I had said. So he played it off. I feel so very strange now, and when I look into my eyes, I suppose they seem a little bit softer because you can see the sadness. But I am not depressed, which is strange.

I don't know exactly how I feel right now. Kevin and I talked about remorse, and I don't think it's that because I made her talk to me about what I think she did wrong back in early December. I don't regret anything I said or did, but I do regret that I didn't photograph her flawless, smooth back. I don't think I am grieving so bad, because I grieved so hard for so long.

I tried to explain to Kevin last night that I feel guilty in a way because I had so much pressure on me about mom dying for so long that it inevitably would catch up with me at the end of a semester or she would have some kind of procedure done so I would have to take an incomplete in some of my classes. I feel guilty because I couldn't control my feelings.

I mean, how do you explain to a professor, "I couldn't come in because I am so worried about my mom..." when I was and I wasn't. That was always there, in the back of my mind, but sometimes I would skip class just to have fun, and I guess that I shouldn't feel bad for that even though I do.

Don, my photo professor, told me how one professor in the art department got me and was like "I have Cathy Clay in my class." As if I were a disease for the simple fact of that bullshit with the Art League censoring my photos. When the class was over, he told him, "She's a really good student."

I don't know... I suppose people have their own personal perceptions of what I am like and what they don't understand is that there are many many layers here, and it's all a complicated mess, and I like me that way. I know I have a twin, since I am a Gemini, but I think it's more like sextuplets. Yep, at least 6 women living in one body. What more could a man ask for?

Friday, February 6, 1998

I figured out why I felt so strange on Wednesday and that was because a week earlier I knew momma was going to die, so...

It's so yucky and snowy back home. Here, in the windy city, it's just beautiful. Zack says it's because my mom is with me and she wants me to have a good time up here. I wish the sun always followed me, but I should be careful what I wish for.

Zack and I slept with our backs together last night, that made me feel so good, so I am in a most excellent mood today. Kevin said I would feel most comfortable where I am safe and I suppose it's because he does care about me and is a very caring person, even if he thinks he has issues about being whatever.

Today is Hadley's birthday. She's the photographer I saw in San Francisco. She tells me that the reason we are the way we are is because we are so sensitive, and it's like you don't always want to extend that same courtesy to a guy, even though it goes both ways.

I suppose that one way of protecting ourselves is by acting like we don't care when we care a great deal. But it's what we care about that makes us, or at least me, more sensitive. Although I act like a bitch and have a tough shell, it is possible to get beyond it and affect me deeply.

Zack and I watched two movies since yesterday. Waiting for Guffman and Heavenly Creatures . I liked both movies a lot. Had recommended Heavenly Creatures. I wish I could have met someone when I was a teen in which I could have shared in my creative endeavors, but back then, I was a science geek. I didn't even want to consider being an artist because my mom was and I wasn't about to teach a bunch of brats how to draw. I hated my adolescence though. Well, I have to go, I am going out to lunch.

Saturday, February 7, 1998

I went to lunch with Lily from the PFP. They are going to start advertising soon. It's weird to meet other women that share the same views as me, kind of comforting as a matter of fact. I feel like such a fucking freak in Kenfuckme. I took pictures of her in a playground, so they should be interesting.

Zack took this photo of me before I left for my lunch.

I came home and Zack and I went in the attic so he could smoke. I love it up there. The attic is cool. It's almost done. We talked about his problems with men. I'm going to go upstairs and photograph myself with Zack's digital camera.

When we came back down, I took a nap. I did not want to wake up last night. I laid in bed and almost told Zack that I didn't have the emotional reserve to go, but I forced myself to wake up and go. I am not going to lay around and feel sorry for myself. I don't like other people that do it so I am not about to become that. I feel like a baby right now, with a whole bunch of new and different emotions. I don't have my mom to protect me anymore, and that's both a blessing and a curse. I don't have her acting as my conscious, so... Let's just say I hope I don't get too wild.

Plus I now have my own identity, which I have had to temper a great deal because I looked like my mother, so I was expected to act like my mother and be like my mother, but I am not much like her. I don't think like she did, I don't act like she did, and I am not afraid of the things that she was afraid of. Fear held her captive of so many things. I am more of an experience junkie. She lived her life and had lots of content, but she was still scared of so much.

We went to some bar that had "alcohol abuse center" at the end of it. Drinks were about $2. I sat on the couch next to the window after this guy got up and he started yelling at me "You stole my couch."

Do you think I was about to move my ass? "Where's your name?" Syndy got up from the couch because I suppose she doesn't like to deal with confrontation even if it was playful. I didn't budge. She later came back and was like, "Sorry I bailed on you man." I didn't care. I kept the couch. Then I had to go pee so when I came back there was one of the guys from our group sitting in my seat. I sat in his lap. I assumed he was gay, so I played with his hair and he was like "I'm married."

I said, "That's OK, I am a little gay boy." I did not know he was being serious. I felt like an ass when I found out her really was married, but wait, it gets better. We were talking about both being from Kenfuckme and he was like "My mom came from money."

I almost get sick of hearing this sometimes and I was like "Really, my grandfather was Commonwealth attorney." which is the attorney for the state of Kenfuckme. "That's why my last name is Clay." I continued.

"Wait, you are a Clay?"

"Yeah, that's my last name."

"No, really? A line off of Henry?"

"He's in there somewhere."

"My mom is a Clay too."


"Yeah, her dad made his money off the river." It's started to make sense. I think I actually found a cousin! I think our grandfathers were brothers, and if that's the case, then I am so very happy. I finally have a cousin I can actually talk to! All the others are old and fake, and we were always the lesser cousins because mommy was from the wrong side of the tracks, daddy was just a fucking dick, and we lived in Louisville so they were never nice to us.

I am actually going to go see my grandfather in the nursing home when I get back and go ask him who his brothers were. Or cousins. I know I am related to this man, and I was sitting in his lap, thinking he was gay and I was safe... sometimes I make an idiot out of myself, but I don't suppose I really give a fuck or I wouldn't do it.

So, we got up to go to Gay Skate at the Rainbow something, bar, room, I can't remember. Whoever thought of the idea of putting a bar with a skating rink... They had us sign wavers when we got there. I was already fucked up. I made it around the rink once. I was videoing, so it was interesting.

We were there maybe 45 minutes and had to leave because some guy busted out Coco's hatch back window on accident. I think the story was that she had been in a wreck and it was weak so this guy was just closing the hatch back and must have done it hard enough and it just busted. So we all left. Plus the Gay night thing hadn't really caught on because there was a ton of straight people there.

So, I don't know what I am going to do with myself today. I don't really know this city, so... I think I am almost ready to go home. Zack will be homer around 5, so I guess we will figure out what we are going to do tonight later on.

Sunday, February 8, 1998

I can't sleep. I took a nap round 3 and by the time Zack came home and woke me up from my slumber, I had had one of the absolutely worst nightmares. I dreamt we buried mom alive and by the time I convinced her that she was dead, and that ordeal was over, I got into a fight with my older sister about this fucking flannel shirt I took from mom's house, the one she was wearing in the last photos I did of her during Christmas.

Needless to say, it fucked me up pretty bad and now I can't sleep. I made Zack lay down with me so I could have him hold me for a few minutes.

One of his friends wrote and was like... he didn't think it was a good idea having me here in Chicago with Zack so soon after my mom died, and that kind of bothered me. I don't think I am that fucked up, so I am thinking that this guy is projecting his feelings on to Zack, and I suppose I don't want him to think lesser of me because of what somebody else says.

I mean I know why he said it, I can understand that totally, because our culture just doesn't deal with people dying very well. But I don't think I have acted that unusual. I think I acted more strange when I came back from Russia to be perfectly honest. I know I shouldn't let this bother me, but I don't have that buffer there to protect me right now, so it's as if anything anybody says to me right now I take it more seriously then I should.

Maybe I should have gone into total seclusion, but I don't think isolating myself from society would be a good idea considering I have done that far too long.

I don't know, I just don't know right now. I feel like this is one of those times where I am going to be tested to see what kind of character I truly have and I am afraid I will totally blow up, go stark raving mad and end up running around some wood, naked. Ha, in your wet dream. I am going home today. Maybe that's another reason I can't sleep, plus I took some medicine and sometimes that has an adverse reaction, like instead of making me sleep, I am ultra hyper.

ahh... let me reminisce about one of those Zack moments... we were standing by the railroad tracks, waiting for the train to pass so we could go to class and there was a girl standing there that I had gone to high school with. She was pregnant. I looked at her and exclaimed "GROSS!" She was most disturbed, but we were hanging that show that was censored and I hadn't had much sleep and I let it slip out.

Zack stood there and laughed at me. He later told me that that was not the anticipated reaction that a woman usually gets, but well, I thought it was gross that someone my age was pregnant. I was projecting my fear on to her and now that I think back, I feel bad. No I don't, who am I kidding? That's how I felt at the time. Now I don't think it's so gross after seeing Colin born.

Sleep, Sleep, Sleep, where for art though sleep? Can thee bring me no contentment?

Maybe I should escape reality for a little while, it might do me some good since it seems that there aren't that many people here in reality land and I now want company. But I don't think I know how to be any other way since I have been stuck here for so long. Maybe walking naked in the wood would do me some good, although it's awfully snowy back home. Then again, maybe sticking my thumb up my ass might feel good, but I am not too hip on trying that one either.

Monday, February 9, 1998

Out, Out damn SPOT!

It is another restless night in my head. I fell asleep around 1 and got a case of the runs around 3. Traveling does fucked up things to your body, even if it's only 45 minutes to Chicago by plane. I must admit, I don't think it's the runs that are giving me the most trouble.

I got home and everybody was so worried. I figured if my brother could get my number, then the rest of them could as well, so I just didn't even bother calling. Boy did I get bitched out by my older sister and my grandmother.

What the fuck is this, now that my mom is dead I need a replacement? I don't think so. I have other people that fill in the gaps where mom couldn't, like Cathy Thompson (the woman I used to babysit for that showed me how a real family should function), my professors, Schultze, Mitchell, MacNabb... I draw what I need form these women of authority and it gives me great solace to do so. My family is my family. My sister is my sister and Granny is Granny. Now that mom is gone, I don't need anyone to fill in her place, I just need strong role models.

I guess what it all boils down to is I don't want a fuss made about me in the slightest little bit. They weren't so worried when I went to Russia, that I know of, so why does it matter that I went to Chicago? I know I shouldn't even be considering this, that they are my family and they are going to worry about me no matter what. Maybe that's the buffer I am going to miss the most about mom. Now I am going to have to directly deal with all the members of my family.

I can't do this shit though, not sleeping through the night, time to call my doctor and get some drugs to make me sleep. Hopefully without dreams.

I called my younger sister, Anne, when I got home as well. She told me how she kept having nightmares about mom's pulse stopping. That was the first thing she heard after mom died so I guess it stuck, plus she had her hand on mom's wrist as she felt it slowly disappear. She's fucked for life.

It probably comes as no surprise that I don't want to be here. If I could leave tomorrow, I would. I would pack up all my shit and move to California. There is nothing that I feel is keeping me here. I love my siblings, but I haven't much desire to be around them, especially now. I was just basically waiting for my mother to die so I could start my own fucking life.

I suppose I have a bit of aggression I need to work out today by beating the shit out of my punching bag and fucking up my wrists for a day or two, I think I will suffer the pain. I should have done it before I went to sleep, then maybe I could have actually slept. Regrets regrets regrets. I have tired so hard to live my life without regrets. I think that is what drags a lot of people down. I don't like saying "I should have done this" I much prefer saying "I have done this." But even I have a regret or two.

The difference is I know that I had some control over what I regret, or at least over one situation. I suppose I can't beat myself up over the fact that it slipped my mind to ask mom stupid things about me as a kid. Like the time I came home from kindergarten and told mom they were giving prizes to the kids that lost their teeth first, so I went up stairs and yanked my two front teeth out. I was a masochist back then, what can I say?

So there is that, nothing I could remember to have mom talk about. Plus she had this thing where she didn't want to talk so much to me, but preferred watching TV. I don't think there is any reason anybody with a considerable amount of health should be sitting on their ass watching television instead of experiencing life. I think I came to this conclusion long ago when I over heard some people on campus discussing FRIENDS as though those people really exist. Plus watching TV all the time is really just an excuse not to think about yourself. I suppose I get that from Tee, or my father. From now on I will refer to him as Tee. Tee would come home, fix dinner, and watch TV, retire around 8 to go fuck his slut and wouldn't give any of us attention. So I don't really like TV. But sometimes, my mind needs that kind of butter.

Movies are a different matter all together. Andy fucking knows every god damn episode of Star Trek, the Next Generation, and he just now can tell you stupid anniversary dates that no longer matter since there are no picket fences in our future. Lily said fucking an ex is like going home, and I agree with her. There is that level of comfort the two of you share that no one else can understand.

Anyways, the only real thing I regret is not going to Timbuktu. I suppose I should have gone this summer, since I was on that side of the planet, but the weather didn't seem favorable, and I didn't get my shots for Africa. Oh well, shit happens and life goes on.

I haven't done shit today, well, that's not true. I was getting ready to go to school, and I just couldn't do it, I don't really have the reserve to deal with the masses right now. I am taking baby steps and I suppose that's all I can do. I took Duncan for a walk, like I promised when I got home. It was a beautiful day, even though I had to dodge the snow.

I called Andy and we are going to go do laundry, so that's another thing we are going to do and go to Wal Mart. I talked to Haddy on the phone. I talked to Geraldine today and she has either misplaced some rings or someone stole them. I am most unhappy and I hope they are recovered because one of the rings I wanted to wear in a fantasy...

That makes me really sad, because I really, really wanted that aqua-marine ring. But I suppose it doesn't really matter. Nothing really matters and I am trying hard not to fall into the abyss.

I know I need to go to school, so when I am done doing laundry, I am going to come home, take a strong muscle relaxer and sleep, hopefully by 11, that way, I can wake up refreshed and try to get into some semblance of what my life was like before mom died.

While I was gone, I got confirmation that they received my application at Cal Arts and it would take 6-8 weeks to let me know something. Now I am nervous. I suppose I should call and talk to the woman I interviewed with and pester her.

I have a show on the nineteenth too. I'm glad I had my stuff dropped off way before mom died so it's now being framed. I need to go pick those up... I need to do so many things. Well, I need to bathe so I can go do laundry. I need to take my medicine because of this obscene headache. I need to... relax.

Tuesday, February 10, 1998

Last night was a really bad night for me.

I think that it doesn't pay to be nice, so I don't think I will be nice ever again. I wasn't a bad daughter, I was mom's emotional rock, she told me most of everything. I mean there was a while when I was a teenager, but I think every girl goes through that, and if they don't, then there is something not quite right.

I was always nice to mom. I protected her when Anne tied to hit her once. I listened to her when she was sad about what my brother would say or do. And it shows, I am getting fucked the hardest. I knew it before she died, but now that she is gone, I am resentful and bitter. Lesli made us pick through mom's stuff last week and whenever we got to a household appliance, Thomas was like "No, you can't have it, it belongs with the house. No, I paid $500 dollars on that, it's mine. No, you don't need that lawn mower. CATHY, YOU CAN'T TAKE THE KITCHEN TABLE! YOU CAN'T TAKE THAT CERAMIC BOWL, YOU HAVE COOKING SUPPLIES!"

So, I have 24% in that fucking house. I sure as fuck didn't want it. Thomas has it figured out that I get to pay 1/3 of the taxes, since he, Anne and I all own that house. FUCK THAT! Fucking asshole bastard, he made mom's life a living hell, and she fucking let him! They did it to each other and now that she's gone, he fucking gets rewarded for it? Fuck him. I told mom that I wouldn't ask for my interest if Thomas didn't act like a brat and that's EXACTLY what he is fucking doing. He can lick my asshole because I am not going to be nice about this situation, I AM GETTING SCREWED and I don't like it one fucking bit.

UP! Now before you, the enlightened diary reader thinks to them self, "Oh Cathy, Cathy, Catherine. You are so silly, just contest the will."

This is the beauty of it all... I can't or I will lose whatever pissy part she decided to give me.

I start thinking of all the blasphemous things I can do or say about her. What kind of mother doesn't want to provide EQUALLY for her children? Thomas isn't a fucking idiot, he hasn't had a job for I don't know how long... No, He was fired from his job the first time I went to Russia so it's been almost 3 fucking years, and before that he didn't work for 5 years while mom supported his ass. He didn't even fucking take care of her like he wants people to think. He sat on his lazy ass and when mom explained to him what it meant to take care of someone, doing their dishes, washing her clothes he replied with, "I ain't your nigger." Granny was the one that took care of mom for the past year, not my fucking loser brother.

He is trying to act like he took care of my mother when in actuality he drove us off. I was living there and whenever things didn't go his way, he would throw a temper tantrum. I pierced my nose before it was cool and mom threatened that if I didn't take it out, she would kick me out. Thomas almost broke Anne's fucking arm and she didn't do SHIT to him. The last time I moved out of that shit hole, Thomas threatened to throw some of my stuff "over the hill" if I didn't move it and I came at him as if I were going to hit him with my shoe, but I didn't even touch him. He stood up, came over and tagged me on my ribs so my ribs were bruised. Did she fucking ever do anything to him about that? HELL NO! But I did, I called the fucking cops and he ran like a mother fucker. Then MY MOTHER acted like I should be the one to apologize to that MOTHER FUCKER for him hitting me. What the fuck ever.

I don't like my family as a whole, but there are individual things I still enjoy, Anne, my nephews, and sometime my older sister. Mom played us off one another and couldn't understand why we couldn't get along. And her only wish was for us to all get along. FUCK HER, she started something and now that she is dead, she just expects feelings and emotions to disappear in honor of her. No fucking way. Thomas is not my king or ruler and he can kiss my ASS!

He doesn't want to have to get up off his lazy ass and get a fucking job. Mom left him so he has $600 a month for the rest of his life... I'm going to get screwed, I can just feel it in my bones and this time I am not about to take it lying down.

Wednesday, February 11, 1998

A mother does not provide for her family equally, she protects the weakest one and that's why she favored Thomas, but that doesn't mean I am still not bitter.

Do you know how many fucking times I heard "Oh, well he is a genius." Well, if he is so fucking intelligent, then why does he sit on his ass? Granted, there is the mother factor where she kept him close to her and he liked it that way. He is going to try to act like he gave so much of his life, he didn't have to be there, I would have stayed with mom but she didn't love me like she loved him and I hate him for that.

I know it's petty and I should be able to overcome this little set back, and in the grand scheme of things, I am the better person, blah blah blah, bullshit bullshit, but it doesn't change the fact that she used her love as a weapon just like she used her disease.

She used it on all of us, like when I first went to Russia. "What if I die while you are gone?" I was trying to do something for myself, and that was only permissible within her own boundaries. Don't stretch your wings, little bird, you might not fly.

I figured out that not only could I fly, but I could also coast and land whenever I felt it necessary.

Some of the people I talk to are having a harder time dealing with this then I do. Like Donnie. I don't know why I fuck with him. I thought he was my friend, and I could forgive him for not wanting to come to visitation, I can understand how nobody would want to do that, but he has this card from my Russian class and he's just now getting around to asking me my address when he could have dropped it off sooner.

"Well, I didn't want, like, too much time to go by." Well, it's been 2 weeks now, and by him sending me this card, it brings me back down to a level I am breaking out of. That just goes to show how inconsiderate some people can be. He didn't want to come to visitation because he has his own issues that revolve around dying.

Actually, many people do. I don't because I faced my own mortality back when I had brain surgery, so it just doesn't even register with me now. I am so over that... Momma Sue (my photo professor), one of the first things she asked me was "Are you feeling your own mortality?"

I was like, "No."

I don't even see how Anne can be feeling so bad but she did confess that she never thought when she was sick that she would die from cancer. I thought the contrary since she was always so mean to everyone and pushed us all away, you know, like an animal wants to die alone type of thing.

I talked to Andy's mom about the resentment I was feeling yesterday. She told me that there is nothing that takes it away (there were 4 kids in her family as well) and that only time will heal the hurt and stuff. She told me that a mother provides the most for the weakest and that's why Thomas gets what he does.

That doesn't make it any better. It still hurts because she set him up to be the weakest, and he let her do it.

OK, so I have been up since 5, I am going to work today and going to school. I think if I were to stay at home, I would go nuts even though there are about 50 more things I can do around the house. Yesterday, I cleaned for the first time since this past spring? I can't even remember.

And I mean cleaned. On my hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor, moving the stove. I need to put my rolls of film into plastic. Shit, I have so much to do. Melissa has another job, we think, so this will hopefully be the last weekend I watch Colin.

almost 5

I am so tired. It takes so much energy to try to maintain some sense of humanity and still seem to be cohesive.

My first professor, she's the bomb, she talked to me about everything. Nobody in the department had told her mom had died, and that kind of made me mad... Although there is no reason why I should be mad. So she was like "What's going on?"

And I was just like "She died that day I told you all that stuff." and she burst into tears because she could give that feeling to me and not keep it for herself. In that one little half of an hour conversation, I drew more knowledge from her then I had ever anticipated. I didn't expect her to be so warm and open, but I suppose I just wasn't expecting much of anything, so it was an extremely pleasant surprise.

I left a cup with a tea bag in my little office. And a piece of bread. The bread is totally green, just disgusting. Earl, asked when I took it in to show Dan, if it was a bag of pot and I just died laughing. I guess you just have to know Earl to fully appreciate the hilarity of the situation, or see the bag.

Anyways, I have an exam in my Baroque class that I am just not looking forward to and now I am going to photography, basically the only reason I came today since we meet just twice a month and next month it will only be once.


Thursday, February 12, 1998

I bought a Jaz drive today. So now I have a computer, a scanner, a high 8 video camera and a Jaz drive. I can conqueror the world. I can put movies on a Jaz disk, up to 56 minutes. I got my pin number from Cal Arts today. I think Priscilla is just as excited as I am about getting in, she checks the mail and leaves me notes like "You've got a letter from Cal Arts!" She woke me up when she picked up the letters and was like "open it!!!" I am so nervous, but I suppose I shouldn't be.

Lesli found my money, so that is one big fucking relief off my shoulders. Yesterday, I thought I was only getting $6000, but now I am getting more. I know that may seem shallow, but there is some comfort in knowing I will be provided for, even though it's not to the extent my brother is. I can deal with it now and a sense of calm has been bestowed upon my mind.

I talked to Jenny last night, she called from LA. She is getting into real estate and it seems like a lucrative business to invest in. She was a little upset that I didn't call her when it happened, but I told her I couldn't think straight, and that is the truth. There are other people I tried to contact, like Andrea Estes, and I couldn't get a hold of them. She said she would have tried to have been here, and she felt guilty for not seeing her when she was here over Christmas. I told her that all that is incidental, that I need her now and I will need her when I start feeling those feelings everybody keeps telling me I am going to feel. She lost her father a while ago, so she understands.

I should have gone to school today, but I was there yesterday until 8 and I was excited about moving last night after I got off the phone with Jenny at 5 am. Oh the fantasies... if just a few come true, I don't know what I will do. No, they will all come true, so I will have to shoot for bigger dreams once these have been accomplished.

I feel me gaining momentum, and I know by next week, I will be so full of myself again that I will finish all the work I have to do to finish school.

Zack and I discussed how certain people we know have had things just given to them. Like my brother, for example. He went to the best high school in Louisville, St. Francis High, he had the best education because he has a penis, and he hasn't don't shit because he wanted Daddy to send him to Harvard or some other school.

I, on the other hand, got sent to public schools when I begged my dad to put me into a private school from the time I was in middle school because the kids were so mean to me. He refused. He didn't even send me to high school with Thomas although I went there one time to visit. I know I am better off because I didn't learn to expect anything, and anything I have ever wanted I have had to depend on myself to get. Plus I learned that I really shouldn't give a fuck what other people think of me. They usually put their own insecurities on to others.

I also bought one of those phone jack thingies, the one that you plug into an outlet, so I could almost never leave my bedroom so I can be on-line and watch TV. I can't be around those damn ferrets, they stink so bad, they are in the room I usually sit in. Pris didn't ask if she could bring them, but... I can deal with it until they leave.

It's amazing how fast the snow melted. I am almost sad in that I feel like I missed my last snow here, but I also take comfort in that when I move to California, I can visit the snow like I visit my nephews... I can leave it behind.

I need to go to my last night class, or go walk Duncan. I took him for a walk the other day in the snow, and it was just beautiful. I think I can hold off on this class, Art and Politics, although I will miss PhD. Kloner's lecture. Maybe I will walk Duncan up to school and work on some of my ceramic stuff.

Or maybe I will just go back to sleep.

Friday, February 13, 1998

I still haven't gotten into Cal Arts, I just keep getting paper work from them. I suppose I made that unclear... but if I did get in I would be writing all kinds of "Yeah, Go me!" and all kinds of other stuff. You will know if and when I get in...

So I had to laugh at my horoscope yesterday. It read like this:

THE difference between fantasy and reality is not always easy to define. Fantasy is often just a reality that has not yet come to pass. Conversely, what we perceive as reality is often just a fantasy, based on our desire to see our situation in a certain way. Your love life will get brighter and your luck will run more smoothly if, today, you question your idea about what's true and what's false. Mercury suggests you are giving too much credence to a supposition. Meanwhile, you are dismissing as far fetched, something that prove very viable.

I didn't do much today. I have mostly slept. My older sister asked if I could take care of her sick son, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I suppose grief comes in waves and now I am feeling unusual.

It's like now that I know I will be taken care of and my life is moving in the direction I want it to, I can allow myself to grieve more. I'm not so much depressed as I am just full of myself. Actually, I don't really know how I feel since I have never felt this way.

When I tell other people that mom died, it's like I suck in some of their grief because I just don't know how to feel, I'm not numb, by any means. But I suppose since it's my life and it's happening to me, I don't know, I just don't know.

Saturday, February 14, 1998

Today was a pretty uneventful day, except for babysitting. Colin is a dream. I didn't sleep last night. My brother has hidden some money and doesn't want my older sister to find out. He acts like he is responsible for everything good that happens and that's just not the truth. If you could hear him bullshit... I suppose he came by it naturally.

Melissa warned me that shit like this would happen, I know I believed her, but not to this extent, or I suppose I am still surprised, because nothing prepares you for this. I was prepared for her death, but not for this bullshit.

So Priscilla rented the Tommy and Pamela Anderson Lee porn video. I thought it would be so funny. It's nice to see that rock stars have boring lives in a way. Plus Tommy was quick to the draw, which I found amusing.

Anyways, I think it was better then some of the porn I have seen because they were always telling each other that they loved one another and it was sweet. It was amazing in a way, since most porn seems so vulgar to me. I feel like a dirty voyeur for watching, especially after Priscilla told me that they tried to get it from hitting the stores since that video was stolen property. That makes me a little sad, but then again, I think back to how I don't think people should sweat what kind of image they leave behind.

I would much rather remember her as a woman that loved her husband dearly then that bimbo from Baywatch . Plus some of the camera work was admirable. But if I were Pamela, I would do anything to keep that man... Oh my GOD!

Tomorrow is Noah's birthday. I am not excited, this will be the first time I have been around my family... without mom.

Monday, February 16, 1998

My life reads like a bad soap opera right now, except it's real. I can't talk about all the things going wrong, or what could go wrong because I am not sure (I think no, but to be on the safe side...) who comes here and reads this.

I was right about being fucked though. I was told for the past so many years that I would be taken care of once my mom died, and the only thing I can do right now is wait and see what happens. I just am so angry and hurt, I don't understand how people that you are raised with most of your life can turn around and abuse you after such a tragedy has occurred.

The only solace I get right now is from my baby sister, she's not out to hurt me... and my grandparents. There is no trust between my older brother and sister. They have control over my life right now and I can't stand it, it's driving me insane. I can work, I can't fucking think, I can't mourn properly. I am not depressed, just sad, so sad.

You can see it in my eyes, too. I look at photos of before mom died, and there was that little piece of hope, then I look now, and you can just see how deep the sadness runs through my eyes. I hate it. I feel so transparent, like everybody knows exactly what I am thinking, almost like the first time I went to Russia and thought I had "American" tattooed on my forehead.

I should be excited about school and graduating, but all I can do is live in fear of what might happen, or what might not happen, and there is nothing there to save me from myself, so I am just floating on this pool of sadness. I can get up in the morning, I can bathe, so I know I am not completely messed up. I am even sitting at work right now, but I can't be here all day, not like before she died, I start to get to antsy and apprehensive.

I can't focus. I can't keep my mind occupied on anything but my situation, and I hate it. I watched TV this weekend, but I couldn't tell you what. Oh, Scooby Doo, I did watch Scooby Doo. And the Tommy and Pam video. And the X-files, which kicked ass. I think I remember more of what happened yesterday. I didn't take such great care of Colin, I changed his diaper every time it needed it, and fed him, but I wasn't there with him, so...

I have a page, so I am going to see who called...

Tuesday, February 17, 1998

I went to Ceramics today an hour late. I walked in, shaking, with a 2 Big Macs, an order of fries, and two cokes (Yeah, I was brown nosing BFD). I was so nervous because it was my first day back so the first thing I shouted across the room "Michelle, my mother will only die once this semester, I swear to god." I suppose that made a few people laugh, or at least relieved so they could treat me better then... walking on egg shells.

And I was really happy because my mugs hadn't dried out, the 7 that I threw the Tuesday before mom died. But I killed one by over trimming it. So that was decent.

I came home, made out my bills and am expecting Thomas to give me some money, so that should all be worked out.

Sheila, this woman I work with, came by and I made fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, biscuits and gravy. She was just amazing to talk to. She lost her sister in an accident in April of last year and it haunts her to this day, so it was good for both of us to circle around and talk about dying and living and just talking about things that struck us both. I admire her strength and I am totally beside myself that she could trust me enough to share that part of her self with me because it seems like such a difficult thing. I know I can joke about my mom and stuff, but if I had lost my baby sister to Cancer, I would be a raving lunatic. It's comforting to know that people that have been through this kind of stuff can be just as mad as myself. And she has had a hell of a life too, so it's comforting in a way to share hell with someone, even if it isn't the same exact hell, it's just an appreciation for one another.

That's all I am going to say for today. Part of me thinks I should cut my journal entries down a little because they get so wordy, and the other part of me is like "fuck it." So... it will ebb and tide, just like the sea.


I feel kind of bad because I can't keep up with my e-mail. I hurt Tanya's feelings and that was not my intention what so ever and I will post a photo or two of her when I get an opportunity to work on my page again.

Here, I may sound lucid and with it, but in reality, it has been really quite difficult the past week or two because the initial shock is wearing off, but it's still not unbearable. So I haven't been a good pen pal to anybody and I apologize. I can read my mail and stuff, but when I think about responding, I don't really have much to say.

Or I should say I can't really give much of myself now because I am so internal right now, just running a little above 50%. Today was a good day, I was running at about 66%, and that's better. The dread of getting back into the swing of things is dissipating as well, so... I am trying.

It's just going to take some time before I can be what I was before this happened, but when I get over this stage, I will actually be better because I can just efferance my personality and overwhelm you, like I do myself.

Wednesday, February 18, 1998

I am so tired, I could just fall over. And I have zits on my face and I am just about ready to die. I listened to Melissa and put Nair on my face to take away a mustache that only I can see, most girls have them, but what can I say, I am neurotic. So my face is not happy with me now, she is sore and swollen and I sat in Baroque, a little sleepy so to try to keep from falling asleep, I picked off the scabs.

Since I was such a klutz when I was a child, I used to get all kinds of interesting scabs. The coolest one, by far, was a heart shaped scab. I put it in my wallet where pictures were supposed to go. So here I was, a little freak, carrying around my heart shaped scab. That has a cool ring to it.

I picked this one today so bad that it bled and I was embarrassed for a second although nobody was looking. I hate having this shit on my face. It feels like shingles on my lip. I think I have learned a very important lesson, some mustaches were just meant to stay, even if I am the only one that notices it.

Anybody up to having a scab sandwich?

Scab sandwiches are good for you
ba-doo, ba-doo
Low in calories and nutrious too
ba-doo, ba-doo.

I killed my modem!!! ARGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I will update this when I get a) a new one or b) when US Robotics returns mine... thank god for Warranties... too bad they only apply to appliances...

Friday, February 20, 1998

I killed my modem... oh boy. I thought Andy would go out and buy me a new one yesterday, but it was his one day of the month to socialize, so he said he would do it today. I feel so disjointed from him. I feel like I am disconnecting with all the people I care about here so it will make it easier for me to leave, but what if I end up staying?

I just came from a workshop where Chris Staley is working. It is so visually intensive for me... I had to take a break and do my journal before I go to class because I feel the need to break out of that circle...

It is so intense, and for him to talk about what he is talking about AND create ceramics just astounds me because for me, it is such a... I don't want to say spiritual thing but I can't think of the word right now. It is definitely intense though. I can't wait to start working and just delving into my work.

I am rather proud of myself this week. I haven't missed a class, I have been late, but I still haven't missed a class. Being there, on the other hand, is a totally different story.

He had a slide presentation last night and shot a slide of the Vietnam wall up and I saw it and started to think "I was there. With mom. She told me about Donnie Million, a boy she used to ride the bus with to school." Then I remembered taping her and there was no light so you could only hear her voice and I lost it. I don't know how I kept from the whole room hearing me cry, but I was quite successful and I suppose it helped that the lights were down. That was the hardest thing so far, in my opinion.

Well, I have class I need to go to. Hopefully I will have a new modem today so then I will respond to all the mail I have received over the past few days. I think I will go see Titanic tonight. Later...

Saturday, February 21, 1998

strange how many things can happen in a day...

So, I left the workshop early and came home and took a nap. I was just so tired I could hardly stand, that's because my mind was racing and I was coming up with about a million ideas to try things differently. So, I slept, then Pris and me went to this girl named Tanya's house so we could celebrate Chris being there and just socialize. It was intense, talking with all these people. This one Art History professor said I had a good shot at this study abroad scholarship... so guess where I will probably be going this summer? I guess I won't be happy until I can say I have spent a year of my life over there, in summer increments. He also suggested I contact the city and try to get money to go to our sister city, and I think I just may do that although Perm is a big dive.

Speaking of Perm, I am so pissed at Donnie. I talked with him on the phone about a week ago and he was like "I wanted to send you a card from our class." It was already two weeks after mom died and I was like, It's almost a little late. So I gave him my address (he could have driven the fucker over here, but...) and I STILL haven't gotten this supposed card. At this point, I am like fuck it. The reason I thought of that was that He and Trisha were supposed to stay in Perm for a year, but wussed out.

Then we went and saw Titanic, which was just amazing. Just amazing. I can see why people go back and see it again and again.

So, I have a temporary modem for now... I feel a bit relieved, but it makes me a little worried for myself, I mean if I am so dependent on being on-line, that isn't a good thing. I worry about me for this reason, but.. Oh well, I suppose everybody has to have their vices.

I went with Andy so he could get it and I went into an ice cream shop (because I can't be around crowds just yet) and I saw this man, this incredible man with such beautiful eyes just playing with his baby, then I saw the mother and said "WOW! You are both so pretty, you baby is going to be just beautiful."

She was like "Thank you."

So, I ate my ice cream, and kind of watched them just loving one another. They went to go and he came back in and gave me a tape of their work! I was so happy. He said "Here's for the greatest compliment." And I just felt so good. It's moments in time like this that make me so happy to be alive, and makes me so happy to be who I am because most people would just keep to themselves. I like sharing myself, not only in this format, but in others as well. I felt so appreciated, and that happens so little.

I bought a bunch of new music the other day. Foo Fighters, Everclear, the sound track to Great Expectations (don't count on me see the movie though, Gwyneth Paltrow, vomit!), Missy Elliot, Dead Can Dance, and (I'm only admitting this one once) Pearl Jam. I am just so happy. New music just makes me... ah!

Duncan is howling right now, I should tape that soon because he sounds like... Duncan. I think his lungs are bigger then mine.

I am sitting at home on a Saturday night, I have had an easy day. I went to the grocery and indulged, I bought Mangos! I deserve it, although they are expensive as hell. I also bought carrots for carrot juice (I got mom's juicer since she doesn't need it any more) and have been successfully drinking carrot juice. I like it with Oranges in it, Mom didn't.

I have been watching Christmas videos and shit like that, making myself deal with her dying head on. Today, when I was cutting a bowl to use as a mold for some clay pieces, I thought "I should call mom since I kind of have a free minute, or since I will be doing something mindless..." and I was just like "FUCK," so I called Granny and she said she had that same feeling the same time I did, so that kind of freaked me out. She talked about shit I don't want to hear. I just want to talk about stuff that is little and unimportant.

Watching these videos is hard, real hard. I want to go and ask her a million questions again, but I can't. I can't hear any old stories. I can't hear her tell me how I yanked out my front teeth to get a prize in kindergarten. I can't hear just stories about how I was a bitch. I would almost trade anything to have one more day where she was coherent, but I can't, and that's pretty painful.

So I am hoping that I can turn this rage into creativity, and I feel myself just getting over charged and ideas are coming out of my... you pick a body part. think I need to eat something.

I got this personality test from Haddy.

  1. You are walking in the woods. Who are you walking with?
  2. You see an animal. What kind of animal is it?
  3. What interaction takes place between you and the animal?
  4. You walk deeper in the woods. You enter a clearing and before you is your dream house. Describe its size.
  5. Is your dream house surrounded by a fence?
  6. You enter the house. You walk to the dining area and see the dining room table. Describe what you see on AND around the table.
  7. You exit the house through the back door. Lying in the grass is a cup. What material is the cup made of?
  8. What do you do with the cup?
  9. You walk to the edge of the property, where you find yourself standing at the edge of a body of water. What type of body of water is it?
  10. How will you cross the water?

If you want to take it, I will send you what it means when I get your answers, but it has to be he first thing that pops into your mind. I will post mine in a few days. I thought my answers were funny, and right on target... I have been asking a lot of people these questions, it just sticks in my head and makes me smile.

What else, what else... I can't think, so I suppose I am done for now.

Sunday, February 22, 1998

I just got back from doing my laundry. I am so tired. Priscilla, Andy, and me all worked together and it was strange because we finished so fast.

I went to mom's grave today. She used to love peeps so when I was at the grocery yesterday and I saw them, I thought to myself that I needed to take some peeps to her, so I took Nate with me. I had him go get my purse out of the car and it was funny to see him running with a purse almost as big as he is. I took some photos and he asked me if he could take some pictures and at first I was like, naw, but then I thought, fuck it, it's only film. So I gave him my camera and told him how to focus it and I suppose the rest will be history. He's only 4. I didn't think he could really get it right, but I took the camera from him and checked to see how well it was focused and it was focused better then some adults I have seen.

I just saw the new Rally's commercial... it made me laugh out loud. This woman starts bocking like a chicken, and it was just so unexpected. Then she kept on doing it and I couldn't help but laugh again. This grown woman, acting like a chicken... how funny.

I talked to Lisa a little. Thomas said she felt bad because she realized that I was the best friend she ever had (not the Lisa from the beginning of this month, but my old friend from high school) and she wants that magic that I give to her life. That cracks me up. It's going to take some doing for me to ever trust her like I used to. Part of me is afraid to trust her again because I have been hurt so bad by her, but I suppose I won't put as much into the relationship until I see that she is willing to give to me what I give to her.

Monday, February 23, 1998

I had a discussion with me mate, Peter, about how people get caught up in the trivialities of life as though they are the most important aspects of our existence. It perplexes me when ever I hear some of the people I care about caught up in the bullshit of everyday life. And I can't stand to hear shit about events that are out of people's control.

Let's take Mdm. X for example. She wanted so desperately to go to Princeton and she went and interviewed and did all the bullshit associated with getting into a graduate program and she is "on a waiting list." She is most unhappy about it, but hat's better then a lot of people, and she "got into a better school" where they are flying her to Michigan next month. She got into Columbia, for cripes sake! So, her main excuse for not going to school? Money. Money, the root of all evil, the necessity from which all life flows. I hate to hear how people use money as an excuse not to do anything. I have been poor, fucking dirt ass eating peanut butter sandwiches for dinner poor, and I detest to hear people use money as a handicap because it's just an excuse... just an excuse.

An acceptable excuse that everyone says, oh, yeah, I understand. Well, kiddies, I hate to break it to you but I REFUSE to understand. An excuse is an excuse, and if you allow any excuse to rule your life, then you are no better then any of the sheep in the field. Nobody who has gone anywhere in life will use some piss poor excuse like money to stop them. I won't do it, I will fucking claw my way to the top donating plasma all the way. But then again, it helps that mom just died because I have more of a boost then most, but I would trade that money if I could talk to her again, because I know I will find a way, no matter what. I haven't been through so much shit in my life that I will let a problem like money stop me.

I suppose I am just different because when I was 19 I met this woman, Kelly Miller. She had a house, a car, a dog, (was just 3 years older then me, mind you) and I just couldn't figure out how she did it all and she said to me "Cathy, the money comes from somewhere, when ever you need it, it's there." Ever since I changed my view, I have found she is right. I'm in debt now, which can bother me every once in a while, but I know it will all work out in the end because I believe it will.

It's all good.

So... there. I feel like today I am running at about 96.9%, which is the most normal I have felt since mom died. I can pay attention more and focus better, but I still am not at 100%.

I find myself starting to want to fuck more again, too. But I am not content fucking Andy anymore. I want someone new, but I am a little bit afraid. There is this guy in my art history class, and I know better then to desire him because he is a jock, like he plays football kind of jock, and there is no way he would know what to do with a woman like me, not that many men do, but that's OK... Patience is a virtue and I am willing to wait.

Wednesday, February 25, 1998

I had a dream that Anne died last night. Needless to say, it wasn't such a hot night. I have this major test today and I just haven't even studied for it and I don't really give a big fuck about it either. As long as I get a D...

I suppose I have senioritis really bad. Well, Mom dying didn't really help.

I have been thinking about stuff a lot lately and I think that both Melissa and Priscilla are right about my brother and sister and that I shouldn't trust either one of them.

Thomas called me up and whined for me to get him an appointment with Dr. Simon. This is like, the third of fourth time that he has asked me to do it and the third or fourth time I have told him no. There is a boundary that has to be established and I yelled at him for even asking me. "I know I am a big boy and everything but..." You're goddamn right about that. I ain't your fucking mother and I am not going to care about you like she did.

Then there is Lesli. Lesli is freaking out because she is afraid she is going to lose her house. Well, when she sold her house, she and her husband squandered that money and now they can't afford the house they live in. What the fuck ever.

Part of me wants to do like Priscilla advises and tell them to both kiss my ass. They are both users and only called me up when ever they needed something from me. Thomas keeps score of the deluded things he does in his fucked up mind. Lesli used to only call me when she needed something from me and that, in turn, has caused me to resent them both. That and they have my future in their hands at the moment.

I was talking to Priscilla and I told her how I wanted this sette mom bought while she was in Germany and how Lesli was willing to sell it to me and she got pissed and told me that if it was that important to her, then why in the fuck did she want it to begin with? You can't take it with you yada yada yada... And... well, she's right. Then she was like "Just take your fucking money and get the hell out of here. You don't ever have to look back once you are gone." And you know what, she and Melissa are both right.

I don't have to do shit for any of them. Granny makes me feel bad because Lesli didn't get her fair share, but then I talked to Conni the other day and she told me I needed to talk to Kevin Ford, the lawyer, and see where I stand. You see, she was there with Mom and Thomas one time when the will was read before mom died, and she told me that out of the four of us, Anne and me are the ones getting screwed and that Lesli got to enjoy her inheritance while mom was still alive. And she knew it, too. So I suppose once I get off the computer, I am going to call the liar and see what's up and ask to speak with him.

Conni said I should be there for every meeting they have with him, and I am beginning to think she might be right. I don't like to be fucked unless I can enjoy it and I don't think I am going to enjoy any of this.

I asked Earl, this guy I worked with, why he thought people were evil and he said "insecurity. Think about it, kids aren't insecure and that's why they aren't evil" (I can debate that one a little) but I believe he is fundamentally right.

Besides, I would like to get a NEW Hasselblad instead of a used one. AND a NEW Leica. That's about $10,000 right there. Do I really want to give that money to Lesli? I suppose for now, I will just settle for the NEW Leica, whenever I get my fucking money, which can be fucking 6 months down the road.

It just really makes me sad that this whole situation has boiled down to this, and for so long, everybody equated mom's love with money and that's not fair to anybody. I asked for the least, the least from mom while she was alive, but I demanded more of her attention and she wasn't always willing to give that properly. Oh well, I was there for her when she died, and I hope in the book where someone is keeping score, that counts for something.

After all, there's a lot to be said about a person that can hold someone they love in their arms as they die.

Thursday, February 26, 1998

Today has been a pretty bad day. A bird tried to use me as target practice and luckiy, it missed.

I walked into ceramics and asked what this one color was and they were all like "Turquoise" and one guy was like purple and I laughed. Then this woman Iam not fond of told the ceramics teacher and it embarassed me. I was kind of sad because I didn't have a piece good enough to go in the student show, so I was felling like a loser and then I have been thinking about mom more and more.

I festered over it in class and it's not like I can feel like I did before mom died. Then I figured out I was PMSing and then I understood why I was so emotional today. Before, I could just write it off to being pre menstral, but now... I don't know why I feel the way I do anymore.

Friday, February 27, 1998

"I work too hard to let someone else have my social security." That's what Earl just said and I burst out laughing. He is so cool. 1 of 11 kids! WOW!

The sun is shining... I made Priscilla drop me off at work so that would force me to walk back home, plus I was running late because I decided to dress up. We got right up there, when the cross thingies came down for a train. I jumped out of the car and ran across the tracks! The conductor was not happy and I was a little embarassed, but, it's all cool!

I forogt that I didn't have class today so when I got there, nobody was there. I also remembered that I have a write up due on Monday for an article, so I went to the art library, ran into Carrie and asked her what I missed in class yesterday(it was probably the one day I should have gone because they talked about the Russian Art stuff) went on to the library and there he was! The guy I have had a crush on since last year. I got his number yet again (to see if I could get him a job doing web crap) and who knows?

We talked about school and I told him how I wanted to go to Cal Arts and that's where he wanted to go too! It's weird. He wants to be an animator. He also applied for a scholarship to go to Italy this summer.

I told him how I wanted to call him, but that I had been busy and he understood. Then he talked about how he's at school all day and he's so busy he doesn't even have time to call his mom and I told him, "Call your mom for me, because my mom just died and I would do anything to call her and talk to her." I suppose I shouldn't have laid it on so heavy, but I am not going to listen to people talk bad about their moms and stuff since mine is dead, it's not fair because they have every ability to try to make things right (unless their mother is an overbearing Russian mom, cause you know how those old Russian moms can be).

It's so funny how we think when we met someone "Hmmm... well... is there a possible future with this person?" I would like to think there is, but at the same time I am trying to detach myself from what I value about KY so it makes it easier to leave.

It's such a pretty day today...

Saturday, February 28, 1998


I don't know why I surprised, but every year, I just think that it's never going to happen. I suppose I read too many of V.C. Andrew's books as a teenager.

I haven't done a damn thing but clean up my files, I just now fed the dog and it's past one... He was upset. I am just enjoying my time to myself, although I should go throw some bowls with people. Fuck it, I don't really feel like being around people today. I will clean and listen to loud music.

I'm a little worried... After a little over a year, I have neighbors on the other side of me. I suppose not having to worry about someone being next door has allowed me a certain sense of comfort, although I am kind of glad the house is finally occupied.

I feel so good. I had a DREAM that I was already accepted into Cal Arts... I know I shouldn't get my hopes up, but I am. I don't really care what it costs... I can make it back up and that's more then 3 years away to worry about.

GOD, I am so glad this dreadful month is over...

I got a dirty e-mail today, and it just added to my Spring time mood. Well, I am going to clean my house now. I have cleaned my pages up, so they all look pretty for the most part. I have added stuff and fixed stuff since yesterday. I added a voice file on mom's page, but it's not working on Netscape. I think I am going to add another sound file of me talking about my trips, or where I have traveled.

I am so happy to be alive... Oh no, where did the sun go?

Well, he's gone and I imagine he'll come back again, he always does.

The chill of winter is starting to leave and the smell of rain and growth surrond me when I step outside. This is my favorite time of the year, just as when everything is first dying in the fall. I take comfort in knowing myself and being alone nice).


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