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Saturday
31 July 99
11 33 pm pdt
Tonight I cut off my finger nails. They were the longest I had ever grown them, but I broke one, and so they all needed to go. I love my nails because they are the most recent addition to my visual presentation and they are the most versatile. I bit my nails until I was about sixteen and a half. In high school I did ceramics, so I would have had to cut them anyway. But they were ugly, and my mother always bothered me to stop biting. Finally I did, and so I am very proud of my nails. Additionally, they grew unbelievably strong once I began drinking soy milk, and so now I grow incredibly long and hard nails.
I don't do anything with my hair, since it is too long to be very interesting (it would never hold a curl) and I am not brave enough to do anything permanent (like dyeing it). That leaves my finger and toe nails for color coordination. I most recently had a deep brownish red which Matthew picked out. I painted my finger nails and he did my toes. I have blue and green and all sorts of sparkly colors, most of which I don't think look very good on me, but which I keep around in case I need them...
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Friday
30 July 99
1 04 am pdt
My father and I went out to dinner tonight. The street that the restaurant is on was blocked off by the police, so we drove through the alley and parked. The restaurant told us there would be a 10 minute wait, so we were waiting outside. My dad asked if I wanted to see why they had closed off the block.No.
Come on. He gestured me to follow. How could I disappoint?
A car was all set to be towed. They were hosing off the street. I was trying to figure out why. Can you hose away leaked gas and oil? I thought they always used sand.
My assumption was wrong. My dad and I realized at the same time that the car was perfect. There had been no accident.
My dad asked a passing fireman what happened. An older man had hit a pedestrian woman with his car -- very bad. She had fractured the bones in both of her thighs, and one of her lower vertebra. The clincher: she was 7 months pregnant.
I felt sick. I hadn't wanted to know. Now we had to go and eat our dinner and try to forget that someone's life was ruined tonight.
10 57 am pdt
"Men say of women what pleases them; women do with men what pleases them."-- DeSegurSeveral days ago I agreed to see Drop Dead Gorgeous with my sister and Matthew, and so we went. I don't like gross -- as in people vomiting on screen. This humor simply does not appeal to me. The movie was bearable for the first half, and the turned horrible. The second half went on way too long, and took the story somewhere it shouldn't have. Yesterday, with my mother, our dear family friend Rody, and Matthew I saw Run Lola Run which I will say is the best movie I've seen in a year. Everything was so completely fresh / new / different / wonderful. I sat there and thought, This is the kind of movie I want to make. I want to make movies with these people. I was so pleased to unexpectedly see such a fine work of art.
2 17 pm pdt
I finally updated my homepage to reflect my participation in the kaleidoscope project which is a collection of people's desktop art. I find it to be a lovely idea with a beautiful presentation.6 07 pm pdt
Last night I dreamt that I was having a conversation with David. It is vaguely dissatisfying to know the context of a dream, but not the meat of it. I would be willing to try hypnosis, or whatever other new age method, if it meant that I would be able to remember more of my dreams.
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Thursday
29 July 99
8 19 pm pdt
Just when I told myself I wouldn't write about sex anymore (it's just too easy)...We broke a condom today. Meaning we didn't discover it until we were done. I'm not too worried, because I should be getting my period very soon, but it is worrying. He was panicked, so I looked him in the face and lied so well I believed myself, and told him I was sure it would be ok.
I want him to be happy so bad, and I can't stand that frantic look.
I am shaken. Scared. Will we be nervous the next time? I will (I believe).
I will be having dinner with my father in a few minutes, and I don't want to tell either of my parents. Is that wrong? I think not. Like him, I don't want to needlessly worry my family.
I don't want to worry myself. I shall attempt to pretend it didn't happen.
8 19 pm pdt
Why I began journalling online -- an overexposed collaboration:At work as a computer consultant, we were sat in front of machines in various computer labs for several hours a day. Internet access -- swell! The only problem: we weren't allowed to do our homework on shift. We were, however not only allowed to -- but encouraged to -- work on our web pages. We were given free server space at cafe.berkeley.edu. I started in August, and by September the novelty of getting paid to surf the web and send e-mail had worn off. So out of the blue I decided to keep a diary of what happened at work, and I would put it on the web in order to be in conjunction with the rules of my job. I remember the day, sitting alone in the lab -- not a single client! I just began writing. But detailing the mundane events of my day quickly led way to personal information; I found myself more interesting than the machines. And suddenly I had a daily diary on the web. I actually thought I was the only one! Then, on 2 November 97, I learned that my co-worker Jane had her own diary (Berkeley VENTS [which has now become see jane live, see jane learn]), and I learned that there were webrings (I think I joined my first on 7 November 97) for other members of the community. Community? When did that happen?
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Tuesday
27 July 99
12 07 am pdt
Yes, I know this is getting ridiculously long, and I will have to join the masses and put each entry on a separate page. Perhaps after August, which will be broken up by my drive across the country.Tonight I watched the Sex in the Twentieth Century special on Showtime. Having had sex ed from 5th through 12th grade, there's not a lot to learn at this point, but I was refreshed to see such a historically embedded analysis. "The year 1956 had the highest number of teen pregnancies." I found an irony in the discussion of the publication of Sex and the Single Woman in 1962, which supposedly made women more comfortable with having sex out of wedlock. I'm not comfortable with that. I am at times profoundly embarrassed that I have had sex -- and with multiple partners no less. I too was raised on the romanticized notion of the woman who saves herself for marriage. There were several virgins when I graduated from high school, but very few did I encounter in college. None of the high schoolers and all of the college students who didn't have sex were religiously motivated.
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Monday
26 July 99
4 25 pm pdt
I wanted to write about my sister, so I made a page about her then I figured I had to do one on my whole family. I wanted to write about her, because we stayed up until 1:30 in the morning talking, but I suppose I shall just keep that as a sacred memory of bonding with my sister when she was 13. Today she left for summercamp.I was rather distraught. I e-mailed my thesis advisor to double check on the address I was supposed to send it to, and I received a phone message form her "personal secretary" saying she was out of the country, and would be for ten days after the grade for my thesis is due. Urg! That was Friday. I didn't get the message till yesterday, so I attempted to remain calm, and wait until today, when I could call the department, and talk to our lovely advisor Karin. I left her a message and she called me back like a miracle and alleviated all of my fears. She told me to have it waiting for Ruby when she returns (August 23rd), and that would be fine. Karin was the bearer of fantastic news. I thought i wasn't going to be able to graduate yet again! I am so relieved...
and now for more fun but still stressful concerns, I have to pack up my life to move to New York. I have no idea what I should take, what I should pack up to have shipped to me, and what I should tell myself I can live without. My main concern is clothes, and my computer.
Then there is the usual assortment of toiletries; I suppose I should be thankful I don't wear make-up. Do I need other things? Do I need photos or my usually assortment of wall clutter. Should I pack as though I am going to summer camp? I will take my camera, and my discman, and probably a good portion of my cds. I will take all of my computer peripherals (extra SCSI cables, various sized screws, RCA and SVHS cables, etc.), because who knows when I will need them. I should take my little nine lb weights. Should I take books? My grandfather has a pretty sparse kitchen, but I don't think I should start bringing my kitchen supplies from my apartment because that could easily get overboard.
8 33 pm pdt
My grandfather offered to buy me a camera for my graduation present, so I have to pick one. It was a choice between the Canon XL-1 (which I have been pining after since at least 26 April 1998) and the Sony VX1000. Now Matthew has sent me the specs on the Canon GL-1 -- out in September -- so I have something new to drool over. I know that Matthew appreciates all the computer nerdy things we have in common -- all the ways we connect and understand each other -- as much as I do.11 45 pm pdt
Matthew told me that while he was shopping today the sales woman asked his mom if he was her son and if he was single. She was disappointed to learn that he wasn't; she said she was falling in love on the spot (which I really can't imagine saying about someone to their mom!). He later asked if he shouldn't have told me the story -- as if it had somehow made me uncomfortable. I thought it was wonderful. Everyone wants to be with someone who others consider attractive. I assume that men take it as a compliment when other men stare at the woman they are with. There is also a sort of social understanding -- at least from my experience growing up here in Los Angeles -- that it is somehow ok for men to gawk at women when they are accompanied. Men have no qualms about staring if you are not alone. That is probably some sort of throwback to the 30's, when women always had to be accompanied by a chaperone. It is weird to me to think that that was such a short time ago, and how many social changes we have gone through since then.
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Sunday
25 July 99
2 56 pm pdt
Last night I had a horrible dream that I had an abusive husband. The man who was my husband was Harsha, who was the boyfriend of my roommate from freshman year. He was not attractive. I dreamt that I ran away, and rescued a pig that had lost its will to live from his house. I was going to try to run home, which was several miles, but I knew Harsha would be driving around looking for me with his father, so I was trying to figure out how to get somewhere where I could call my mother to pick me up. I had run from the house only wearing one shoe.Last night was the big party at my mother's house, which was a total success. Matthew wasn't in the mood to socialize with 40-year-old women, so we hid in the house. He slept, and I helped my mom cook. Then I watched the second half of Cube on the sci-fi channel, which was terrible.
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Friday
23 July 99
10 07 pm pdt
m and I went and saw a digital projection of Tarzan with his parents. It was simply gorgeous, and points to one of the benefits of living in LA. They said it was the first ever purely digital film, meaning it never touched celluloid, much the same as the new A Bug's Life DVD, but DVD's use a compression codec that I think looks ugly for big areas of black and such... Ah but I ramble. We went to Chevy's afterward, and m ordered me a super grande margarita and I am now in Margaritaville. We are going to stay up late playing pinochle with his family and then I am going to run errands for my mother tomorrow, which will culminate in the previously mentioned party at her house. Her car, which I have been borrowing, has been driving badly, and today the "check engine" light came on, so I had to take it into the dealer. A guy named Ray helped me, and he said with the rattling noise it was making I certainly shouldn't be driving it any more.I have a serious allergic reaction to something, almost exclusively in restaurants. I most commonly experience this when I am in Japanese restaurants, but tonight I got it at a Mexican place. What foods could I possibly eat at both a Japanese and Mexican restaurant? Perhaps it is some cleaner, or something in the grill... If I still had medical insurance, I would go get those nasty scratch tests for allergies, but alas...
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Thursday
22 July 99
11 31 pm pdt
I have been enjoying a lovely laze on the couch with m. We have been eating strawberries and chocolate -- my favorite dessert on the entire planet -- and watching Sirens, which is such an incredibly beautiful and evocative film. Every night I am here at my father's house I tuck him into bed, turning off the lights and the television after he has gone to sleep. It makes me wonder what he does when I'm not here, though truthfully I know. He falls asleep with everything on, and then wakes up a few hours later to turn them off and go back to sleep. I am sure this is how my parents feel about me -- providing for me when I am under their respective roofs. My mother especially dotes, and lives to wait on me, and I'm sure she questions my survival without her presence. Our trip across the country will be quite a wonderful adventure for us, I'm sure.
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Wednesday
21 July 99
11 56 pm pdt
Last night m and I saw American Pie and tonight we saw Eyes Wide Shut. American Pie was fantastic, and anyone with a slightly raunchy sense of humor will love this movie. I had a rollicking good time, and find it sad that high school students can't see this movie without parental accompaniment. Of course, I also found it odd to see a movie that's specific premise was a group of high school males who want to get laid. And then there's Eyes Wide Shut. I expected to hate this movie. It has gotten really bad reviews, and I went in with no expectations. I loved it! It was most definitely flawed, but I still found it wonderful and intriguing. I wish the ending had been more ambiguous and less Hollywood (yes, I know, I cried for the opposite with Limbo). The film was visually interesting (unusual film stock and use of color and light), and it sparked an entire evening of discussion between m and I. I am probably the only person in America who liked it, but there: I liked Eyes Wide Shut.
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Tuesday
20 July 99
8 45 pm pdt
Matthew and I have been enjoying a nerdy day at home -- me working on my thesis, and him working on his symphony stuff. We are sick together side by side, computers networked together, mouse pad with our picture printed on it (courtesy of his mother). This is how it would be if we lived together. This is probably how we will be tomorrow and the next day. I don't think I mind being this uncool. I think I even enjoy it, though I know I am not supposed to admit to that...
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Monday
19 July 99
10 13 am pdt
I am sad. Matthew asked me to go to Vegas with him for Ben's birthday (Ben is through whom we met). I was excited, we would finally be taking the vacation together we always talk about, and this would be our last one before I leave for New York. I was certain my mom would say it was fine, but she said it was a horrid idea -- in her mind, totally out of the question. It never occurred to me that she would object. Of course, I am a big girl, so I get to make my own decisions. She is right. This is crunch time for the thesis. So I called Matthew, sure he would be supportive. He was so disappointed he was nasty. He pointed out in a not kind way that today is Ben's birthday. I felt so bad. Now I'm forced to chose between disappointing my parents and my boyfriend. We know who the big loser is -- parents will always be there. So I call Matthew back. Can we just go for one night, to be there when Ben is celebrating, and skip the second night, where we were going to enjoy each other alone? Oh no dear, I support you, let's not go. After he made me feel so bad, suddenly my decision is the right one? I just want to be happy again.
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Sunday
18 July 99
1 38 am pdt
I again write under the veil of alcohol, only this time I am really drunk, and I write with a little ball of anger in the pit of my belly. One of three: I asked Eric to go dancing with me last night. He said he would call me. He never did. I called him this morning. No reply. Ok, so I have a pet peeve about people returning phone calls, so I try not to lose my temper. But then I called again this afternoon and said that I was worried about him, and would he please call and let me know everything was ok, even if he didn't want to talk. I have a paranoia about car accidents. No call....Gripe two of three: David. Paid me half of what I was supposed to get, and didn't ever let me do the work for which I was hired. Even worse, won't give me what he promised. Even worse than that, won't admit that he fucked up.
Gripe three of three. Max. I met you tonight. You should have taken me out dancing. It would have made both of us happy, and it would only have taken an hour of your time. You should have female friends with whom you are not sexually involved. All men should. You should have walked me to my car. You should not have let me drive home.
One good thing I can say for myself, is that when I am tipsy (which has only been once before in these circumstances) I drive in some sort of uber responsibility mode. I am the most careful driver imaginable, because I am terrified of being pulled over; you lose your license. Anyway, here I am, universe reeling. I am going to collapse into the arms of sleep.
11 52 am pdt
I just learned that there is a 72 year confidentiality rule, so the 1930 census will be available in 2003. I must say that 72 years seems like a bizarre number; why not 70? I wonder if genealogy will still be such a fad then. I have all but abandoned my research of late; I have reached dead ends. I am sure I will become much more involved in New York, especially since I will have no friends and nothing to do. I don't think it will be hard to meet people though. I have decided this morning that when people ask me why I moved there from Los Angeles I will reply, "To see what winter is."12 19 pm pdt
Max read what I wrote while intoxicated last night, and wasn't pleased. Tough! I did my best to answer his e-mail, but I'm not going to censor, not unless we are real buds. I seem to have a knack for finding wall flowers at parties (mostly because I am one). I have met a lot of incredible people this way. It pleases me to have a deeply connecting conversation with someone in the midst of such frivolity. Max was great; he seemed sad, and I latch onto that. David once told me that he though I would have liked the lovey dovey mush he gave his [now ex-]wife. I had to say no, because I like sad men. I really do. Aurora says that we women are so intelligent and talented that we need a challenge in a man. Perhaps it is so. All I know is that I seem to have a penchant for depressed and/or unhappy men. Matthew was the worst off of them all, and now he is the most cured. I always tell people he was broken when I found him, and I fixed him, so I get to keep him!Max asked me last night why I loved Matthew and I am sad that I only said an eighth of the reasons I could have listed, and forgot the most important: intelligence. Everybody has what they are into, for me it is smarts. I would date a tremendously ugly man if he was brilliant. For me there is no other quality of attraction. I like them intelligent, honest, and non-smoking. Can you imagine that those characteristics would be so hard to find. I had to look for three years to find Matthew, and I plan on holding onto him.
My dad thinks it would be great for me to break up with Matthew and have more "life experiences". I told him being in a healthy long-term committed relationship was an especially important life experience, but my dad said that he feels that Matthew is preventing me from many other experiences. Hmmm...
Oh, one other thing on Max. He told me I was a firecracker. This cracked me up because my mom's boyfriend once described her as that, and I have always teased her about it. He said, "Your mom's a real firecracker -- a real pistol." My brother and I have gotten a lot of laughs out of that. And now we see how far from the tree the apple falls...
1 26 pm pdt
I want to be a princess. I want to live in a perfectly grey castle -- a castle covered in years of ivy. I want to sit perfectly still so long that the ivy grows up one leg and down one arm. I want to be a statue. I want to be a work of art. I want to be sullenly silent.2 09 pm pdt
I once was a different girl. I envy her; she consumes me. I tried to be that big girl last night, but I have become small. I want to close back up into my world. I want to return to my safe bubble, my world where only Matthew and I exist. How, at 21, can I envy myself at 16. Was I really more of a free spirit then? Will I let her return, when I move, when I relocate? When I start over will I be her, or me, or someone else?7 57 pm pdt
I was incrdibly angry yesterday; I had a huge fight. I made my way to the shopping mall in tears. I needed groceries. I walked up to the movie theater, hoping to escape life for two hours, but only to find that no movies were starting for forty-five minutes. I haven't been to a movie alone since I was a freshman. I bought my food and came home, and I did ok. But today I got my escape; I watched As Good As It Gets. I hadn't want to see the movie because I wasn't in the mood to watch Jack Nicholson be nasty for two hours and I get enough obsessive compulsive behavior around the house (though thank god it's not that bad!). But it was wonderful, and I am glad I watched it. I feel angry and scared, and it's nice to be immersed in someone else's life for a while. I feel as though I am messing up too often, and I just want life to go smoothly. I need to make some changes, and I need to be a big girl, and I need to get everything on track, because life is going to be moving by very swiftly soon...
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Saturday
17 July 99
1 38 am pdt : scary movies
When I was little I was never allowed to see any even remotely scary movies. I didn't get to see Ghostbusters or Gremlins, because if my little brother couldn't see it, neither could I. Thus, I never got the standard desensitization to scary movies, and I have only seen about a half dozen in my life. I have seen:Well, that's all I can think of for now. But all of the sudden, I want to see a bunch of scary movies. There are several coming out that I would love to see, but I know I'll have to go to an early showing. The Haunting, The Blair Witch, even Stigmata all appeal to me, and I wonder if there is some change in my Psychology that is now attracting me to scary films.
- In the Mouth of Madness
- Scream
- The Original Friday the 13th
(which is not at all scary)- Carrie (after which I didn't sleep for a week)
1 50 am pdt : coco chanel
I have an advertisement on my wall for coco, which looks something a little like this (it is most certainly difficult to draw with a mouse, and I hope I get a tablet soon). I happen to think it is the most beautiful image of any woman ever, and I know that it's allure for me is in the curve of the hips. This image will always remain a symbol of idealized beauty for me. I sometimes run my hand over the page as though this concoction of consumption was real and palpable. I love her toes sticking out briefly from beneath the dress (a detail which I have omitted from my stylized likeness). There is something about tracing that I really enjoy. When I was in high school, the women I sketched were always modeled out of magazines, and I would simply change the clothes. Yesterday I traced an image of an old car.I enjoy drawing on my computer because the childlike nature of my illustrations seems to have taken on some sort of personal aesthetic (at least, that is what I would like to believe). I so enjoyed creating my fully illustrated movie about my genealogical research on the web, and I have since made several other creations. If I do indeed create images of my road trip, they will surely all lie in the same vein.
I am again up too late, and -- I must admit -- a bit terrified to be alone. There are so many windows in the house, and they all seem like places to be spied upon. Speaking of which, my neighbors across the street at my dad's house [which is where I am now] have moved out. I never knew them; I don't think we ever met, but once, when I was in high school, a boy came over and said that he and the guy across the street had been watching me. I will admit to being an exhibitionist, but that usually denotes invited voyeurism, such as someone watching me dance at a club. Anyway, I look forward to the new residents, and will make an effort to introduce myself before I head off for east coast destinations.
1 50 pm pdt : news
Someone e-mail one of the mailing lists that I am on to let us know that JFK Jr. and wife are lost at sea. This is how I get all of my news, from fellow internetters, or word of mouth. Sometimes I feel a little guilty for being so out of touch with the news, but most of the time I am happy for it. I am glad Matthew is also not especially interested in current events. In keeping with my sign-of-the-times efforts, my mother this morning sent me an ebay auction for a man's back hair (up to $100 with 47 bids!). They have had some crazy stuff on there -- even someone selling their soul (which ebay removed, deeming it an inappropriate auction).3 27 pm pdt
I called my grandfather just to be sure one last time. "It's really ok for me to live with you?" He said yes. What will my life be like? When did I make this decision? It seems as though it was decided all at once, rather that something I arrived at. Will I be able to go out at night? Will I make friends? So many things I haven't yet considered... I'll need to pack up boxes of clothes to be shipped there. I'll need to minimize my life down to bare essentials, and live with just those for a while. I accumulate; can I teach myself not to?3 46 pm pdt
My brother has just written me from Ecuador. He says internet access costs $3/hour there. He said he got drunk last night, and that his Spanish improved. I would love to see my little bro drunk sometime. I'd also love to go out for a drink with my mum sometime. I suppose we will have plenty of opportunity on our road trip.6 58 pm pdt
I went out today to discover that they were filming a movie two doors down from me. It's not as glamorous as it sounds; they said it was a half hour production sponsored by the American Cancer Society (or whatever it's called). Needless to say, parking is in short order around here. I have such an urge to go out that I feel as though I am going to burst. I am going to make a mission out of finding a partner in crime for the evening.8 03 pm pdt
This whole plan for going out evaporated when I realized that I have a friend's birthday party to go to this evening. I just called and told her that I want to go out dancing afterward, and I am going to try to convince her and her roommate to do so.
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Friday
16 July 99
12 22 am PDT: chop sticks
1 14 am PDT: driving (and my car accident)
1 33 am PDT: vision
2 33 pm PDT: my mother has sent me advice:
When you get stuck on your thesis, just remind yourself that you are smarter, more capable & more clever than 98% of the people who have finished their thesis.9 07 pm PDT
I am in the middle of a rather fierce dizzy spell, so forgive me if I just cut out. I shall do my best to write without moving my head. Matthew called me from Gonzalez, California today, in the middle of his drive back from Berkeley. I asked him where Gonzales is, and he said it is where his alternator blew out. Luckily, he hadn't lost it. Matthew doesn't take so well to life's little ups and downs, but he was good today... I miss him. I am going to miss him more when I go to New York. Part of our recent fight spawned out of a total misunderstanding. I kept saying that I wanted to talk about going to New York, and he kept saying no: it made him sad and he didn't want to influence my decision. I was thinking "my decision?" When did the future of our relationship become my decision? We were talking about two different things. I was asking him to share with me what direction he wanted our relationship to go when I was in NY, and he though I was asking how he felt about my going to NY. He is resigned to let me do my thing, and not get in the way, but that didn't mean he had no opinion on our future. Now that we've cleared that up, we have agreed to talk about our future, and I think I will feel much better once that happens.Some people in the journalling community look down upon those diaries that record the days events, but I don't see anything wrong with that. I see a diary as a record of the times, and I can just picture someone in 2800 saying "They ate cereal for breakfast in the 1900s?!?" Old journals have provided much in terms of historical information, and the volume of current diaries will probably serve as a wonderful time capsule of our era (that is if all of our servers don't melt on New Year's Eve).
10 35 pm PDT
I have this undeniable urge to out. I fantasize about going to a club alone, and plopping myself down at the bar until some guy asks me to dance (though knowing me, I'd probably ask some guy to dance first), but I think I'm a little chicken to do that now, and I don't want to drive, so I can drink. I racked my brain, and came up with Eric. At 10:30 I called him and said let's go out. He says he has to return a key to a real estate office and won't be free until 11:30. Perfect! He said he'll call me later and let me know. I would be so delighted to go out dancing tonight. I suppose now Eric requires an introduction. E is 29 and lives here in LA. Back in my high school days, I was on AOL a lot, and women sort of bonded together, because there were so few of us. There was a girl named Kristy who wrote to me a lot. At some point she said, "you should meet my brother Eric; he's a great guy." Kristy had a decade on me, and was a model continually flying between LA and NY, so I started e-mailing Eric. We are talking pre my first kiss here. E and I go way back. At the time he was dating a girl who wanted to marry him (but he didn't want to marry her). I always called her "the wife". E's most recent was Rochelle, but they too are now broken up. The thing about him is that we have had any sexual tension between us. I mean, I was so young (16) when we first started communicating, that I don't think it really occurred to either of us. And now, to my surprise, I think there is some of that there. He jokes about how we are going to be together at some point in the future, and he never takes any of my men seriously, not even Matthew after a year and a half. I wonder when it occurred to him to be interested in me... E and I always make plans to do something together -- from going on trips to just going shopping -- but it never seems to pan out, and I have just accepted that he has no follow through when it comes to me. I wish that wasn't the way that it was, but it is. In fact, I am pretty sure we won't go out tonight, but I like to let myself get excited nonetheless.I wonder if I could just go to a bar all by myself. That seems like such a desperate thing to do, but it could be quite the adventure. I try to believe that I could handle myself in any situation, but I know that friends and family would highly disapprove of such an activity. Of course, they are not what stop me. I stop me. Some times I am a very brave girl, but others I am a downright chicken. I look forward to the new me I can let emerge in New York.
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Thursday
15 July 99
12 08 pm PDT
Last night I opened up my own WebRing, called overexposed. I billed it as being for diarists who have been writing online for more than two years, but I am considering changing that to diaries begun before 1998; that way there won't be a whole slew of new diaries eligible every month. I like the idea of managing a small online community. I like feeling involved. I have no clue why...12 29 pm PDT
Actually, to be honest, I think the online diarist community is rather nasty. There is a lot of elitism and exclusivity. I think this is virtue of the fact that because the internet excludes face to face interactions, people tend to feel less responsibility for what they say. There have been many essays and books written on the subject. I personally am interested in how people construct their identity in relationship to the internet, especially in terms of gender, which seems to be the one categorization we can't get away from. Not only that, but gender tends to get overemphasized. But back to my current rant. I am continually shocked by how rude people are on mailing lists and in e-mail. I have given up trying to protest, for this only incites more anger -- fuel for the fire. I think that the potentials for education on line, and such activities for children, are wonderful and powerful, but need to address the issues of why some people lose their social restraints in a virtual community. I find the phenomenon to be comparable to road rage, which is another bizarre phenomenon that I have frequent encounters with in Los Angeles.We interrupt this program to announce that some church is reporting that life-sized Jar Jar toys are being used for masturbation. What nonsense! I always have to wonder who is the first person to come across a page like this, but I understand the way it spreads once it is found. My mom once told me that her biggest regret was that she didn't raise my brother and I Catholic, but I have to say that I know I would have rebelled against even more so than I did my Jewish tradition. Some parts of Christianity seem to make such a bad name for themselves as to overwhelm the whole religion. They fundamentalists certainly are easy to spoof. I don't subscribe to atheism -- though I did for a time as an early teen -- because I believe that saying that you know there is no god means that you know everything -- which would make you god. I think one has to remain open to the possibility. Although I don't subscribe to any god as defined by any organized religion, I do respect and enjoy the traditions of my Jewish heritage, and would be delighted to raise my children as such.
2 51 pm PDT
music concerts7 33 pm PDT
I just got an e-mail from the World Currency Cartel informing me that I could turn $99 into $580 legally, easily, and repeatably. For this incredible ability, all I have to do is send them $35. They have a suite number in Beverly Hills, so if I ever get really bored I go go see the headquarters of what is probably a fairly big internet scam. Ah yes, here is a web page purporting to expose their scam and another and here (with full body of the e-mail). Also, here is someone trying to make money off the scam.
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Wednesday
14 July 99
1 16 am PDT
Sometimes I really want to write, and I don't manage to. I have been cooking up plans for entries on rap, chopsticks, and driving all day. I hope I can get around to them tomorrow -- perhaps after my dentist appointment (when I should be working on my thesis, ugh). I do feel overwhelmed tonight....10 08 am PDT
My mom is pretty much the limiting factor in all of my writing. I have to ask myself, "do I want my mom to read this?" Of course, the answer of late has been "no" and I haven't let that stop me, but it is certainly a deterrent to larger projects. I would love to be a writer of erotica, but I would never want my mom to know that I was such, or be able to read my sexually charged words. That idea bothers me, and I don't think that is abnormal [oh! double negative! get the grammar police!]. My mom told me last night that her boyfriend of 10 years read this and tells her whether or not it is appropriate -- a bizarre arrangement, but I'm kind of happy for it. I don't ever mention him -- I suppose I try to respect his privacy, but mostly he's so sweet there's nothing to say -- and I wonder if that makes him happy or sad (or if he is completely indifferent).Today I have a teeth cleaning, for which I am 3 years overdue. I actually like going to the dentist, but that is a hard activity to coordinate when I am away at school. I wonder if I will be in New York long enough to have to establish these sorts of personal care routines there. I wonder if I can go a year or two without medical insurance. I suppose I will have to find a job with benefits.
4 48 pm PDT
I just called technical support to clarify some issues with my account and was helped to my satisfaction. I had been frustrated by being unable to get Fetch to work properly with the account that controls my domain name. But today they were very friendly; I asked how to set up pop accounts, and the guy told me I would have to talk to sales. I got transferred. Then a woman set up my accounts. When she was done, she said, "I hope this isn't rude, but how old are you?" I was sure she though I was a child and she was going to ask me what a 14-year-old was doing with a UNIX account. I replied "21" and she said that I was the friendliest person she had talked to all day. I was so surprised -- and complimented. She had a theory that 40-year-olds were angry at the world, but the 20-somethings were still happy to be alive. I guess I fit in with her stereotype. The weird thing about those kinds of judgements is that they usually begin by being based on reality, but they can swiftly get out of proportion.7 51 pm PDT
My internet service has been dying all day. Well ... not all day. This morning I saw Arlington Road which was really well done (especially the opening titles and the ending), but still left me feeling cold. I hate that empty feeling, especially when it is not readily apparent that it is deserved. I tend to get that a lot from web pages. They have a beautiful surface, but they don't really get me in the mind's design eye. Such is life...After the movie I went to the dentist. The oral hygienist was very personable, but also very rough. I told her that I loved my teeth, and I don't think she knew what to make of me. I have the best dentist. He is so friendly. His name is Dr. Horiuchi, and he practices in Santa Monica, CA. Since I hadn't been in three years, he asked if I had gone elsewhere. I told him I would never go to another dentist. He laughed at my loyalty.
8 04 pm PDT
I got my mom in on my conspiracy to buy a laptop. She said that she must have internet access while we drive across the country, so I spent part of the day looking into a reasonable plan (especially considering that I will only probably use it for one month). We will be a weird pair, networked and antique shopping. If ricochet [wireless] modems worked more reliably, I would get one of those. However, my attempt to get my mom to purchase a digital camera backfired. Such is life... We were going to go to Wisconsin, but now we are back to a plan of driving through the south...11 53 pm PDT
rap music
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Tuesday
13 July 99
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Monday
12 July 99
11 07 am PDT
Sometimes I want to write so much, and I am disappointed that I am unable to get it all down. It is not that I want a record so much that it is actually healthy for me in some way to be recording my life as such. Somehow getting things down on paper (so to speak) absolves me of some of my stresses. I believe that song writers record their lives in their lyrics, and I guess web designers ... do I have to finish that thought?It was a glorious, warm summer day yesterday when the skies opened up and it started pouring! I heard the thunder before, but I convinced myself that someone was moving heavy furniture nearby. My mom said my dog was out barking at the thunder! I loved the rain. It gave everything that humid musty smell that greenhouses at nurseries have (as well as my orchids). I opened up the vents on the car so that it was filled with this rich odor. I drove home carefully because my dad said it is always most dangerous when it has not rained in a while, because the water lifts the build-up of oil and such off the pavement and makes it slippery (I suppose acid rain might contribute to that too). In addition, I have been needing to get the car washed, so the rain was a nice gift. I was pounding down so hard I thought it might be hailing. Nothing like rain in the summer in Los Angeles to surprise you. There were some die hard runners and bicyclists who chose to ignore the water and continue their worship to their muscles. I love this town!
3 45 pm PDT
I feel a bit as though I am living my brother's life. I am opening his mail for him while he is in Ecuador, and in addition to his college roommate information and his prom pictures, today I received his AP exam scores. In his senior year of high school my brother received his first A-, breaking a three year streak of solid As. I was good in school in that I could get by with little effort. My brother makes comparably little effort but gets by doubly well. He simply has a penchant for school. AP (Advanced Placement) exams allow one to test out of college requirements, and are score from 1-5. A 5 means that you got 50% or more correct, which for a high school student is considered to be a great achievement. It is the highest mark. My brother took 8 AP exams between his junior and senior years, and received a single 4 amongst seven 5's. The boy is a genius!3 54 pm PDT
Today I was added to the Breasts of Doom journal 'burb. In updating the burb page, I came across Breasts of Doom, and found it fantastic that someone had decided to emphasize breasts for diarists on the internet. This month's collaborative entry (#1) has the following topic:Are you happy with your breasts? What would you like to change about them? What do you hate and what do you love? Would you get implants or a reduction if you could?and now for a discussion of my breasts:One of my only memories from middle school is when I wore a leotard to dance class (required for a dress rehearsal of some dance concert), and a girl named Tracy whispered very loudly to her friends, "She's so flat!" for years I was self-conscious about being ridiculously flat chested, and then I began not to care. I wold refer to myself as light as a feather and flat as a board [parodying the children's game "light as a feather, stiff as a board" and also making fun of how skinny I was]. I was a late developer, losing my first tooth at 8, but when 11th grade rolled around I figured that if I didn't have boobs by then, I was never going to. I really grew to accept my body, flat as I was, and be happy. Then I started to grow breasts. Anything involving my impending entry into womanhood was profoundly embarrassing to me, so I was in denial about my forthcoming breasts. I refused to wear a bra until it was more than painful to horseback ride or dance without one. The summer before 12th grade I blossomed -- so to speak. And suddenly I noticed that I was attracting a lot of attention from the opposite sex. I experimented with a WonderBra (man, did that make my chest look ridiculous!) and in generally wore disgustingly skimpy clothes. I got my first lover and in general became a completely different person from the bookworm of my childhood [though I still devour books]. I once got around to measuring myself, and discovered that I am 34c-24-34. I really couldn't ask for better breasts. They are a pain to go jogging with, or do any sort of exercise -- in fact, it is painful for me to ever go braless. But they look damn good in an evening dress, and I would be miserable if they were any bigger (and I would look silly, because 34c already looks disproportionately large on my 5'4 100lb frame). I love my whole body, and hope to keep it a long time!
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Sunday
11 July 99
9 44 am PDT
Alcohol (which I am sure is true for most people) makes me have to pee a lot, which wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have a weak bladder to begin with. In addition, if I don't drink enough water before I go to bed, I won't sleep well at all. Thankfully, last night I made it till 6 am, when I awoke from a dream of which I only remember the name River Boat Annie. I had one about a week ago (which I think I didn't write about at the time, because I didn't remember it at the time) in which I was dating a guy from my high school, who I in actuality detested, and we were all cuddly on the bus going to an amusement park (don't ask me why) and then he got all rude (like his old highschool self) when we actually got to the park.10 13 pm PDT
I just took The Keirsey Temperment Sorter II and came out as ESFP -- a performer artisan. I felt that the idea behind the test was fair, but the actually test was silly, because there were some questions that I felt equally about. I scored 10 on expressive / 0 on attentive, 4 on introspective / 6 on observant, 5 on tender / 4 on tough. I seem to be missing one on the end there, since all of the other scores added up to ten. I wish I had gotten a real personality test at Berkeley, as well as an IQ test.I disliked Wild Wild West so much because it had so much potential, and still failed! I found the Black vs. handicap jokes to be offensive, and not at all humorous, and while the models were spectacular, the matte paintings were atrocious.
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Saturday
10 July 99
11 12 am PDT
I was just reading one of my genealogy newsletters, and I came across the following:TOP FIFTEEN ETHNIC GROUPS IN THE U.S. (1990 U.S. CENSUS)
German--23.3%
Irish--15.6%
English--13.1%
African American--9.6%
Hispanic--7.0%
Italian--5.9%
Franco-American--5.3%
Polish--3.8%
Native American--3.5%
Dutch--2.5%
Scots-Irish--2.3%
Scottish--2.2%
Swedish--1.9%
Norwegian--1.6%
Russian--1.2%I am half Russian, one quarter German, and one quarter Austrian-Hungarian (plus a pinch Irish). My genealogical research has sort of slowed to a halt (many dead ends have been hit of late), but I am sure it will pick up again when I relocate to New York.
I spent a good portion of yesterday finishing up an animation for the video I am editing, and will probably be editing this afternoon and all day tomorrow.
10 45 pm PDT
I never made it to work. Matthew and I went and saw Wild Wild West, which goes on my top ten list of all time worst movies (hopefully more on that tomorrow). He also made me some daiquiris, so I am now smashed, and most definitely in need of sleep. I took on a major project today. I volunteered to update the 'burbs, which have been dead in the water for over a year. This really makes me feel as though I am part of a community, but it is definitely a large undertaking.
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Friday
9 July 99
10 24 am PDT
I put in many hours of work yesterday on the opening introduction to the video I am editing (corporate video for WeldProUSA). I will probably spend the greater portion of the morning on the same, before I go over to the studio and start editing. This job will be great money if I pull it up, but my thesis composing time is running out, and I am very nervous about how I will get everything done. Matthew is going up to Berkeley this weekend, and I wanted to go with him, since this will be my only opportunity to get up there this summer, but it doesn't look like it is going to happen. I think I am a bit sad about that, but I've gotta go where the money is, and I want a new PowerBook so bad I can taste it.Matthew helped me do my animation work yesterday, and we had beautiful sex beforehand. Things are once again good in Paradise, and he is coming over this morning to help me make lightening. Time to go tweak...
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Thursday
8 July 99
12 14 am PDT
I feel as though I have been through the ringer. David and I spoke last night, and made plans that I would go to his house and edit his corporate video today [Wednesday]. He showed up at my house this morning, shortly after I had woken up, while I was on the phone with Matthew. I told Matthew what I was doing, and then headed over there. David's system kept registering an error, so I ended up spending several hours just sitting there, while he contacted tech support and reinstalled various things. I practiced writing with my left hand, and wrote crappy poetry; I wanted to write a diary entry, but I didn't have access to a machine; he wouldn't let me use his brand new powerbook. He showed me his wedding pictures, and told me about his ex [I have a major urge to link to her web page (she is model) but I guess I actually consider that to be an invasion of privacy. Oh, I just visited it, and it no longer exists. I guess my desire to respect her privacy was in vain.Needless to say, it was hours before I actually sat down to edit, and I got very little done. We just decided to call it a day, and go have dinner. He gave me a ton of work to do at home, which I had thought I would do tonight. Dinner was lovely. I like hearing stories; they make me feel close to the person, so I asked David to tell me something. I suggested that he tell me about swimming at the YMCA, which I know he did when he was little. He lit up and went off. I know he doesn't appreciate me for sitting there and listening to him all the time, but it is a service I am normally happy to provide. As the evening was drawing to a close, he said, "Do you want to go home, or do you want to go and get a drink or something?" I said either way was fine, so he took me to a small and fantastic blues bar right by the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. He had a beer, and I got a margarita on the rocks with no ice, which I have grown very fond of, of late. We talked a lot, and sat very close. I asked him why he was out with me, after all this time. He said that it was because despite what an ass he had been to me, I wanted to be his friend. And I do; I want it bad. And all I could do was talk about Matthew. He told me stories of his ex, and I told him stories of my beautiful man. I asked him, among other things, if he would sleep with me if I asked him to. He said no, but I didn't believe him. He drove me home. Outside my house he seriously asked me to spend the night with him. He said he just wanted to be near me -- to hold me. I knew I couldn't. I told him so. He asked if it was because of him or Matthew; I told him it was both, and myself. I told him that would be unhealthy, and that I was trying to be good and do right. I feel that I succeeded. He sat there in his car outside my house for so long, and I went to the door to go ask him what was wrong. But he is sad; he has lost his love; and I am not her, so I need to be doing what is good and right for me. I wish I could talk to my man now, but no one answers at his number. Heavy sleeper that he is, he might not hear the phone ringing, but I somehow don't think he is home. I do hope he hasn't gone to Berkeley without letting me know. I am considering going with him... I love you Matthew, wherever you are tonight, and knowing that you won't read this.
1 12 am PDT
More about David. I told him several times during the course of the day that I felt that he wasn't treating me right. He told me in the bar that he liked that I called him on it. But more so, he said he had a revelation as a result of me; he said he realized how badly he had treated his ex. I hope for their sake that they can get back together, and make it work. David has had a lot of women, and he has not treated many of them well. He reached the point when he told his ex that many women had wished that he would know a broken heart, and she had shown it to him. I cannot be counted among these women; I never wished him poorly. I want him to be happy; all I ever wanted was for him to treat me with kindness and respect.I am going to go to sleep. I am worried that I depressed -- I can feel it in my sleepless nights and loss of appetite. Life is beautiful and good, and I need to snap out of my funk and start appreciating again.
10 37 am PDT
"The Hebrew date for today, 8 July 1999, is 24 Tamuz, 5759." I found a page which gives all sorts of different dates and times. I suppose I will have to familiarize myself with the Hebrew calendar if I am ever to go to Israel. I really can't wait to travel, but as I am sure I have said before [why am I so self-conscious about repeating myself?], I enjoy planning as much as doing, and so the idea of making preparations to go abroad [with the exception of standing in line to get a passport] is very exciting.
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Wednesday
7 July 99
9 54 am PDT
I had a long talk with Matthew last evening. We went back and forth, and then finally agreed that I would work on not making insensitive arguments when I am angry and he would work on not walking away while I was talking to him. Great. He was very distraught, and it took much effort on my part to calm him down. We went out to dinner; I broke my dinner date with David. Then at dinner ... BOOM! We're back where we started. He thinks I said something in a malicious way, and now neither of us are talking (we are both trying so hard to keep our composure at the restaurant). In addition, I found chicken in my salad, which has never happened at The Cheesecake Factory before (but happens consistently at Chin Chin [I am very fond of ordering Chinese Chicken Salad without the chicken, and they usually mix it in a bowl where they mix all those salads, so I wind up with a few pieces of shredded chicken]). I lost my appetite doubly. I sometimes cheat on my vegan diet and have some ice cream or something, but I know after 8 years, I will throw up all night long if I eat meat. The waiter kindly took the salad off my bill.We came home, and I was fuming. Matthew tried to comfort me -- tell me he wasn't so angry, and he understood how I felt. I told him it wasn't enough. I told him I can't keep giving 120% and still messing up; I can't spend so much time feeling bad, and being angry with myself for my latest foul-up. This is destroying me. He understood, and it was his turn to try to cheer me up. We wound up feeling less angry at each other, but I think equally frustrated by our situation.
He left, and utterly drained I crawled into bed and called David. He told me stories of his divorce (she moved out for the umpteenth -- but supposedly final -- time yesterday). I listened, which is what most people want, especially people who have few of no friends. Hours went by. I cried again, this time for the pain David had caused me. He let me be weepy. Then I got off the phone so I could call Matthew, because I told him I would. He was already asleep. I tried to fall asleep, but to no avail. I felt dehydrated from crying so much. I called David back, and we talked until 1:15. He tried to get me to spend the night with him -- told me he would behave -- but I am being good and strong, and doing what I know is right. I said goodnight to him, and after another restless night, I finally felt sleep's embrace.
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Tuesday
6 July 99
10 03 am PDT
I have a [probably absurd] notion that it is good for me to use my left hand, despite being right-handed, so I go through bouts of practicing writing with my left hand and I once tried to eat with chopsticks in my left hand. This morning I brushed my teeth with my left hand and I have now relocated my mouse to the left side of the keyboard. I continually reach for it on the right side, and I wonder how long it will take to break me of that habit. My [step] grandfather [my grandparents were divorced when my father was 9] had a stroke, and they said that he most likely survived because he was left handed. My [half-]sister is left-handed, and I distinctly remember being at restaurants when she was little and watching her mother scold her so that she would use her right hand. I asked why, and both she and my father explained that things were more difficult for lefties. She now always uses her left hand. I once asked my sister when her mother stopped bugging her about it, and she (and later all parties involved) denied that such an instance had ever occurred. What ridiculousness! As though I would make something like that up at 10!12 01 pm PDT
I am in some sort of ex-boyfriend vortex. I spent the morning on the phone with David, and have been making plans to see Sam when my mom and I drive across the country. He is in Iowa, and my mom adored him, though not so much as she does Matthew.12 07 pm PDT
Matthew is coming over to use my machine, and hopefully we can talk in a meaningful way. I don't know if we are both distancing each other or what. To make matters worse, he told his best friend Evan that I don't like him. Why? How on earth could this be a useful or productive thing to do? My dad thinks that all of this nonsense results from us not knowing what is going to happen when I go to NY, and he is probably right. Matthew won't talk about it, because he says it makes him sad, so I feel dead in the water. I just want to know where I stand, and I don't want to wait around for him to decide that he wants to dump me. I can think of no way to feel more pathetic. He has refused to talk about our problems so many times, and I am growing weary of making all the effort. Fundamentally, I don't think I did anything wrong, and he does, and I don't know how we are going to resolve that inconsistency.5 57 pm PDT
I didn't, by the way, send the e-mail I composed yesterday. Not that it matters; we are having dinner together tonight. My mood I cannot predict, for I will be having talks with Matthew beforehand. He came over to use my machine for work, since his power supply burnt out, and promptly broke my ADB cable, which connects my mouse and keyboard to the computer. His anger and frustration is a palpable gloom. I read The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and in general moped. I see no way for us to overcome our current predicament, and yet we are both so willing to try... World, wish me luck.
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Monday
5July99
The 4th of July Observed
5 09 pm PDT
Today rounds off a three day weekend, but those of us who aren't working would never notice. Yesterday was possibly the most glorious 4th of July one could ask for. I have been in much too much traffic the past two days, but besides that, the summer is going sparklingly well.Perhaps I should write drunk more often. Matthew came over last night, and we tried to talk about our relationship this morning. I realized that I wanted him to dump me, so that I could be angry with him and hurt, and so that I wouldn't have to put in the effort of trying to fix things. Our relationship has required no effort for so long; it is difficult to change things now.
This month's collaborative entry for On Display is about Desire. I shall write about David -- my first lover...
David once asked me why I chose to sleep with him -- why at 16 I gave my virginity to a practical stranger. He was in the right place at the right time. I would have taken when ever man I had come across. I was ready. I was desperate to taste that aspect of my womanhood. I remember huddling in front of the family PC, writing password protected stories about where I would find this man -- my first. One day I came home and the computer was gone... but I digress. I met David [surprise, surprise] on the internet. I didn't have a driver's license, and I didn't go out very much with people my own age.
Cut to the chase: my relationship with David was purely sexual. He taught me how to be a lover, and I taught him how to make love to me. He was my first real kiss and we sizzled. Though I tried, I never could resist him. And now I finally know why. To this day he is the only man who makes me nervous just to talk to him on the phone. I made a bad habit of going back to him, even though he was unhealthy. David is like a scrumptious desert to a dieter, and I definitely have a strange relationship to him as an addiction. It is as though I am trying to lose weight, so I keep a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer to tempt me, so that I feel as though I am living a bit dangerously, and so that I can be all the more proud when I don't falter. I like keeping him in my life -- being able to check in on him and keep tabs on the direction he is heading. He got married; he got divorced. I like to know. He had slept with dozens and dozens of women before me, and I liked it when he would tell me about them. That I can't explain; perhaps I just like stories and people tend to tell the best stories of true experiences (hence diaries...).
This whole topic seems ironic is lieu of the erotic nature of my last entry [below]. Basil send an appropriate quote:
"I want to do with you what spring does to cherry trees."and I chose to write on erotic desire because I already have a list of material desires, and sex is more interesting anyway!Pablo NerudaDavid writes [and I am posting this without his permission, but there is a link to my webpages, and hence my diary, at the bottom of every e-mail I've ever sent, so tough for him if he never bothered to check it out]:
.... there's definitely memories that we have had that resurface and consume my thoughts on many occassions. i am not sure about how many admissions to you that I should make about how you make me feel, as most will only allow you to have more control over me, and I'm not sure if that is a good thing for me or not. i find it hard to handle that such a wonderful young woman as yourself, can make me do things that I cannot control with my own willpower, not by any words, deeds or actions on her own, but by the mere fact of your existence. i think they call it magnetic polarity. one thing is for sure, i have had a lot of things in this world, done a lot of things, gone a lot of places, and have more experiences than i know what to do with, sometimes ones i wish i would not have, but when it all comes down to one thing, happiness, it is the intimate moments that i have shared with you, along with the laughter and genuine expression of your inner self that have left a lasting impression on me, unlike others. you have a sweet heart, an intelligent mind, self motivation and insatiably sexiness that spoils my thoughts of the co-existence with any other.He wrote that this morning, because I sent him that little paragraph I wrote below, when I was drunk. No, I didn't include the part after, where I say it was a lie. How would I get any control that way? You see, David has me pegged. As retribution for the way he treated me, I want him to feel bad about it. I want to be the one who got away. I want him to look at me one day and for him to say, "What was I thinking?!?"
Matthew and I fought again this morning, and I fear for our relationship. I have dated many men, been called "a man eater", and have always been without love, no matter how much I give. Matthew loves me like I never imagined, and is not frightened away as he gets to know me better. We have wonderful sex, when we have it, but the frequency has been low. Of the men I have sampled, I have always felt blessed in the sex department, and then I find the right man, and we both feel attacked sometimes, so we both reject the other person sometimes. We really have no other conflicts, but how to overcome this hurtle.
I suppose I don't really know what I want from David; I used to want to taunt him, now all I can explore is the possibility that we might one day have a friendship that is true and golden. I envision spending all the time with him that we didn't when we were together: shopping, cooking dinner at home, watching movies curled up on the couch together. I suppose I'd be scared to sleep with him again: what if it was no longer as good as it once was. He says, the passion we have known between each other...could never go away....can never burn out...
You know how people say that everyone has the one thing they are good at? There was a time when I thought that thing for me was sex. Now that I can find other value in myself, I suppose sex has lost some of its appeal to me; I understand women who give it up for warmth and security. But I miss that burning passionate desire that drives you mad. That feeling makes me feel young.
I feel as though I am rambling here. There are so many things I want to say, but I am having trouble getting them out. I am at a place of transition, unsure of what the future holds. I have a boyfriend that I love very much and I feel as though I am watching him slip away. I had a boyfriend named Mike towards the end of my senior year in high school, and I knew that he could be alone in a hotel room with a stunning naked woman asking him to be with her, and he wouldn't. Our relationship was short, and crappy, but I knew I would always miss that certainty that he would be faithful (especially because it is such an issue with me, because my father had an affair and I thus have a half-sister). Matthew gives me that same certainty, and he has said to me that he would do whatever it takes to make me happy. I don't want to lose him, and yet I keep David in my mind, and I try hard not to lose touch with him. Should I feel guilty? as though I'm being dishonest? I don't think so. I think the nature of desire is a mystery to us all.
9 38 pm PDT
perhaps i should explain more about david, now that i'm on a roll. i am not being unrealistic when i say he was a shit to me. he treated me like dirt, and i came back for more. it wasn't that he never gave me anything, it was that he didn't even bother to call me on my birthday. that really exemplifies how he treated me. he simply didn't make any effort to make me feel special, which is all any woman wants. on top of that, he lied to me. i asked him once if he was seeing anyone else, and he said no. he had in fact begun seeing someone four days before me, and the whole time he was with me, he was seeing her too. when he finally decided to get rid of her, the damage was done. i understood what i had gotten myself into, and i knew my knight in shining armor was never coming. tarnished dreams...10 11 pm PDT
i guess, since i began writing, i've been self-censoring. i try not to swear (which i also do when i talk, but i want to swear more when i write) and i try not to say god as an expression, for fear i will offend someone, and all sorts of other sillies. yesterday's entry, when i got drunk, i felt that i had an excuse to just write; i only had two drinks... that was one of the better passages to come out of my fingers of late, so i will try to be more carefree from now on. i also have a fear that people i know will read this. as of now, only a single cousin peruses my pages. i would write much differently if my parents were to read this, or if Matthew were to begin again. i suppose i feel overexposed.i have lit two candles, and i am again listening to Portishead's Dummy. why should this music take my to a realm of touch when i listen to it; the beat is a catalyst to my mood. without the aid of intoxicating libations i feel the bass in my belly stirring new emotions in me. i broke my vibrator; i took it in the shower and it wasn't waterproof. that was a short lived toy...
i suppose the conversations i am continually having in my head are a bit unhealthy. this morning i mindwalked that David gave me a graduation gift. i never opened it; i just sat there dumfounded, slowly twirling the carefully wrapped present between my fingers. it occurs to me now that my mindwalks are probably what the television show Ally McBeal is trying to portray. these internal dialogues are what give me the ability to write stories and invent movie plots.
10 25 pm PDT
i love having long hair, cascading down to my tushy. i loved being blonde, and will probably consider going back if i break up with Matthew. i like the way i look naked; love to have sex in front of the mirror, and always with the lights on. i love my long fingernails; i bit them until i was sixteen. i also didn't start shaving until i was sixteen, and i still consider it a royal pain.i saw Limbo today with my mom; excellent film, but i wanted to see the end, and it left the audience in Limbo... the film was quite beautiful, and stirred all sorts of feelings in the audience; you could taste it.
about david giving me a gift out of the blue, that is one of five dozen ways he could make me melt; but i am safe, for i know he would never do any of these small kindnesses that i was so hungry for when we were together.
10 35 pm PDT
dear david,
i have wrote you letters that i have not sent, but this once shall be yours. you say that our age difference prevented us from exploring our relationship outside of the bedroom, but i think that is an easy out. it is fine if you want to just say it was me. that was 5 years ago, and i can accept that i was not able to give you what you wanted for an adult relationship. i certainly had no experience -- no practice -- from which to base how i wanted to structure my interactions with you. i was running blind, and i thank you for what you taught me. however, when we spoke last, you said you couldn't see me if we could not sleep together. that sort of proposition is unacceptable to me. you knew about my boyfriend, and you are the worse for not being an adult, and at long last making an effort to win my friendship. i don't need or want a lover; i can find one anywhere. i want the levels of intimacy we never shared. i want to go trying on expensive clothes on a sunday afternoon, and instructing you on what to chop when we make soup in your kitchen. i want to meet your friends. i want to know your phone number. after all this time, you still don't trust me. don't you think that if I wanted to hurt you i would have by now. there were years when i could have sued you and there were occasions when i though of physical harm; i wanted to brand you in some way so that all women forever would know you were mine. i didn't need to mark you body for that, did i? i am impressed that you got married. that was a real effort to leave your days with me behind a try to build a healthy relationship. i truly am sorry it didn't work. i appreciate all of the things you taught me. i never ceased to be amazed by what i can learn from the people i love. the strongest memory for me is of when you taught me about the backing of currency with gold. how many people discuss that in a relationship? today, my boyfriend explained to me why one should accelerate out of a curve when driving. i wish that you could meet him, but that is not meant to be, and he is slipping through my fingers. do you have advice for me? more life lessons to share with your little girl?
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Sunday
4July99
The 4th of July (duh!)
12 44 am PDT
head reeling from alcohol buzz. saw Morton and the Movies with my dad; excellent play, very funny. said to dad, "can i buy you a drink?" he ended up paying. i am happy. i had good talk (bonding) with my dad. thought my brother was his favorite, but i've still got class; i was the first born; for years i was his shadow. don't want to go to bed -- want to enjoy this feeling. i must finish my thesis, get paid, and figure out what i want to do with my life. today i entertained the though of working for the 2000 census; i could be a computer specialist in NY ($50 thou a year will buy a lotta beer). i called matthew, but my baby was already in bed. he is depressed, not well adjusted to living back home with his parents in la. he did some professional work: designed an animation to play on a jumbotron during the san diego symphony performances. he feels pride in this work (as he should) and he doesn't want it to end. i am swimming in an alcoholic daze, but only a little, for i only had two margaritas (on the rocks, no salt); my dad had banana daiquiris -- as usual. he asked question about my brother: has he tried pot? does he talk to you about girls? i told him the answers, and i think he was glad to have them. my brother and dad have a relationship like no other: a completely tension free house, and a good friendship to boot.I am listening to Dead Can Dance and it is reminding me of some elusive memory -- a vague feeling too distant to really recall. I am haunted by memories of old times / places / people. I cannot remove the memories of old lovers and ancient mistakes. I am driven by guilt and fear -- and like everyone else, i am just trying to survive on this planet. hopefully, tomorrow, life will one again amuse me. tonight i must dance with the spirits of my past -- wrestling until we see who wins. primal primordial distant nothingness...
12 58 am PDT
the rhythm of this music makes me wish i were making love to some exotic man -- a dark stranger in the throes of passion. i am a movie -- watching myself. his caresses are like water, and his kisses are hot on my skin. we are humid, sweaty, engulfed in a flood of passion; perhaps i have fucked to this music before. i miss the reckless of my encounters; this long-term committed relationship is new and foreign to me. i am an explorer in virgin territory, and i know that only i can hurt myself: one false step off the trail, and i am lost forever. i feel as though i am in a constant battle not to cheat on him, but if i can make it two years i can make it forever. i am a goddess; as with all woman, i should be worshiped. i am flawed, but i know the mysteries of life, and i share them with my gentle touch...i am in a tactile universe right now; i want to run my hands along every surface: smooth / hard. i need to touch; moreso, i need to be known / to be understood / to be caught naked in the light / to be bared for all to see. i once stood naked in the fountain in the middle of Sproul Plazza at Berkeley. that is a free and innocent thing to do; perhaps i need more of those moments. i am the winter.
1 05 am PDT
what if i am never like this again. what if i lose this freshness -- this youth -- in a fit of complacency. what if i marry and have kids, but i never become remarkable. will i live a life of regret? will i feel small? will i wonder what the hell i was talking about here? ah, the effort to not swear in my writing is suppressed; sometimes profanity is just so appropriate.i am drunk and all i can think about is you making slow steady love to me -- continually pounding away at my body to the swaying music i am currently listening to. if i had your number i would call you now, wake you, and in your drowsy state you would think you misheard me when i tell you to come get me. you would be shocked by how much i have changed -- uncertain (attracted and yet a little repulsed), but the old spark would be there, and i would know immediately that you could never resist me, just as i could never resist you. i am hungry...
none of it is true. i wouldn't call. but i like to indulge the fantasy that i still hold some eternal mystical pull over him (and the rhythm of the music is driving me mad). i feel myself sobering, as my ultrafast metabolism -- which keeps me stick thin -- dusts off the alcoholic libations in my bloodstream. i am woman: ancient / beautiful / mysterious. i am calm and content and yearning with a blue flame that is too hot to look at. i must sleep.
1 34 am PDT
The cd ended before i knew it. i have started it over. matthew likes to use the word fuck, and when he says he wants to fuck me he means it in a sensual erotic way. i was taught that that was not the word for sex, and my phrase of choice was, "i want to be with you" but i have adopted the expression of fucking, because that is what my mate uses.
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Saturday
3July99
