7-2-82 10:00 p.m.|
I took care of the neighbors kids today. The’re so cute, but I was feeling a little tired so I wasnt in the mood for them jumping around all day long. But we colored and made some pictures, they both made ones for you. By the time you read this letter, you should already have the pictures. Ellen, their mom, melted down old crayons and poured them into bunny molds, so now we have a bunch of crayons that are shaped like rabbits. The kids love them.
And Ive been playing with my zen rock garden, too... Ive had it ready for a while, but I never got sand for it. Well, I finally did today, and once I started to use it I loved it, so I learned how to use Dads saws and made you one, too (but you already know that by now, too - I really hope you like it. Its quite addictive, and slightly creative - very relaxing). When I called Susan later on I told her that I made one and she said that she had always wanted a rock garden, so I made another one this evening. I feel like such a busybody.
Lets see, what else is going on? Theres still a bunch of things I have to do. See a professor about getting a job as a history professor... I dont know if I want to move to another city to do a job Im not even sure that I want, much less can get.
I wish I had other options. I wish I could get on track. Sometimes I know what I want to do with my life, and Im determined to let nothing stop me. But there are other times when I feel as if the entire world is pitted against me, that others dont want to see me happy specifically because they dont know what they want to do with their lives and they want to feel like everyone is in the same boat as they are. They want everyone to work in the same mind-set that they do, because they can only compete in their little world. If someone doesnt want to climb their little success ladder that they chose to climb up, others cant handle it because they dont want to believe that their standard is wrong.
Its like this: people dont know what they want with their life, so they do what is expected of themselves, climb the “ladder” of whatever career track they choose, mix in the appropriate social circles, work toward making money, even if they dont know if thats what they want and doing it doesnt make them feel any better. So then they see someone else that has decided to not even acknowledge the ladder that the people with no direction have decided to climb because they dont know what else to do. And this other person wont have as much money or as many friends as these ladder-climbers do, so it becomes really easy for the ladder-climbers to dismiss them and unsuccessful - and therefore they must be unhappy.
But I think that these ladder-climbers dont want to admit to themselves that they are jealous of these people that have found what they wanted with their life.
But in order to achieve their dreams (if they even chose to acknowledge them consciously), the ladder-climbers would have to give up their social circles, their prestige, probably some of their money. And the’re too afraid of not succeeding, because the’re only comfortable with the efforts that they have been putting forth in their ladder-climbing lives, the’re so afraid of not succeeding and losing what they already have that they dont see the effort as worth it.
So they hold a resentment toward someone they see as a visionary - someone who does what they want with their life.
So then what? They make fun of them for not having enough money, for having no friends. They may even try to sabotage the plans of the creative one, solely because their value systems dont match.
Its amazing how people need a mob in order to have a belief in something. Shouldnt that be evidence enough that they really dont care about their beliefs, if they need the support from others in order to live with those beliefs?
Anyway, my point from all of that was... Well, Im no visionary, and I havent decided to chuck the whole system into the toilet. But I do want to use the system for my own needs, so that I may be able to do what I want to with my life, whether or not that fits in with what people expect. And I think that scares every person I meet, and I think others resent me for that, and I feel like all these artificial barriers are put up in front of me so that I may get discouraged and quit.
And the thing is, I know what kind of work I want to do, but Im wondering if and how I can do it.
Sometimes I feel like I shouldnt even try, like the odds are against me. And I have to try to fight that.
Its a constant battle.
7-6-82 11:35 p.m.
I wished we lived in the same city. I really do. I wish we could see each other all the time, that we didnt have to deal with calling each other on Thursday nights or that I wouldnt have to pull strings so that you could stay over for a night or two. Its a pain in the ass. Okay, not that Im not willing to do it, its just that its a pain.
Although if I was with you I would probably bicker with you all the time, wouldnt I? This is a thought, now, really - are we compatible? Or are we at each others throats all the time? Now that I think about it, I dont think its really that bad. I think we come out ahead in the end when were together.
So I just got a new word processor from Rob, and its great. I can do not only a spelling check but also a grammar check. I can pull out a thesaurus if Im stuck on a word. Ive already checked, they dont have “fuck” or “shit” in the spell check or the thesaurus. Wait - I wonder if they have “penis.” Let me check.
Of course they didnt have it, but they had “penetration.” Let me see what they have in store for that word.
Well, that sucked. All they had was “entrance.” Poo poo to that. Thumbs down. Definitely down.
Wait - theres an idea. Ill look up “poo poo.” Here goes...
No, of course not. This is no fun. They dont have any good words.
bulging: projecting, protruding, obtrusive, protruding...
How about “thrust”: drive, ram, plunge, lunge, surge, burst, explode... wow, this is starting to get fun. Ill just see where this lil ol thesaurus takes me...
desire: hunger, longing, appetite, craving, urge, want, lust, passion, fire, carnality, pleasure, rapture, pant, infatuation, affection, attachment, fondness, love.
Wait, That ended on too mushy a note. Im going to look up carnality and start again from there.
carnality: gratification, sensuality, sex, intercourse, copulation, climax, ejaculation, exclamation, cry, shout, howling (I”m not making this up, I swear, Im just typing the list the’re giving me), discharge (Oh, gross!!!), fulfillment, satisfaction, performance.
Whew. Im quitting there, Im a bit worn out.
So, how are you doing with the book I gave you? Are you enjoying it at all? I hope so. I look at the main characters and I just think the’re so respectable, the’re almost inhuman for they dont ever seem to go against the value system they set up for themselves. Thats the only thing that makes it unreal for me. Its somewhat hard to believe that these characters stick so solidly to their value system when most people I know dont even have a value system. Rather, they claim to have a value system, but dont live by it at all. I want to feel like those main characters do, but sometimes I feel like Im just going to break down against all the pressure.
You know, there was a man I knew once, he was the type of guy that tried to have sex with as many women as possible, a real sexist womanizer type, and one day we were talking about the fact that hes a republican, and hes so conservative, and then he said he was a good Christian and that he prays every night before he goes to bed. And all I could think was that this this guy was such a hypocrite for sleeping with anything that moved, then praying to his God every night before he went to bed. I wanted to ask him if he prayed in front of all the women he was usually sleeping with, but instead I asked that if he believed in Jesus Christ, how could he justify having sex before marriage? Then he proceeded to tell me that nowhere in the Bible does it say you cant have sex before marriage.
And the moral of that story, I guess, is that people can justify anything they want when they dont live by a cohesive value system. This guy managed to pervert his values and the wording of the Bible in order to go against the vast majority of the Christian interpretations of the Bible in order for the value system he decided to adopt to jive with what he wanted to do at any given moment.
So I really want to do something now, I really want to feel as if Im accomplishing something with my life. I feel like Im in such a heavy state of limbo that Im going to just fall off the face of the Earth and no one would be the wiser. I hate that phrase, “no one will be the wiser,” but I just used it. Im so ashamed. Anyway, I said something to Susan about you going back to school in the fall, and then we both made a really weird laugh. Weve been so ingrained with the idea that weve graduated that it just seems so foreign to think about taking more university classes in the fall. I know Ill be there all the time, doing work there, going out and all that jazz, but its just weird to think about going back as a full time student. Im even thinking about being a teacher there, or at least at another university, instead of doing what Im doing now, so that would definitely keep me back in the university system. But being a student again - it just seems so out of the question.
I just used another phrase I hate, and once again Im ashamed. “All that jazz.” What does that really mean anyway? And why on Earth did I feel compelled to use it?
Now this has got me thinking about all the strange phrases we use in our every day language. “What on Earth.” “The whole ball of wax.” “A hill of beans.” Someones probably written about book about these things.
Speaking of books on useless things, remember how I wanted to know why womens shirts button the opposite way mens do? Well, Catherine pulled out a book she had about useless facts and in there it explained why mens shirts button differently from womens. Men at the time buttoned their own shirts, especially if they were going off to war, but rich women had maids to dress them, which wanted the buttons the opposite way to make it easier for them to dress the ladies. Interesting.
And did you know that zippers were invented to replace not buttons but shoelaces? Very strange.
Well, Ive gone on long enough. Ill write more soon -
p.s. I hate to tell you this, but today little Jeanine from next door said you have a funny name. I dont know how cool “Jeanine” is for a name, but I think youre pretty cool.
You know, I dont even know if I would want to teach at a university, live on a campus, in a campus town. I mean, I like living in a big city... But its more than that. I went through the university system, I learned about being politically correct, I supported womens groups and minority groups - I even took part in protests and rallies. But I start thinking about how giving special rights to certain groups takes away rights from other groups, even if those other groups are while men. And then I start thinking about how people in these groups blame a whole group for the problems of society, and in turn prejudge everyone and assume the’re bad. And then I start thinking about how most people in these groups are scorned people - scorned by the system - and yes, the system is often pitted against some people - but maybe the answer is that internal struggle, learning to accept yourself and not fight these enemies - enemies that are not only real but also that are created. Maybe the answer shouldnt be a fight against everyone else. I mean, if people want to fight you, thats their problem, but its your life, and you have a right to live it. Dont bother spending your life telling everyone to let you live your life.
Maybe these groups, this separation, maybe the political action on the parts of women and minorities makes people too angry all the time. Maybe these groups actually make people mare antagonistic toward one another. Maybe they remind people of our differences more than we need to. Maybe its a matter of giving the people running these rallies more power, making it an internal power kick instead of an issue of empowering the entire group they represent.
It seems like a noble things to do on the surface. I see the benefit of supporting womens rights, minority rights, etc.
I did it myself for years.
And who did fighting the system help more? The system, or me?
7-16-82 1:00 p.m.
osculate is the word for kiss, right? I looked it up in my handy-dandy word processing thesaurus and found it. It looks like oscillate. Hmmm....
I saw you last night and I wanted to let you know that every time we have a discussion that borders on an argument it seems like Im badgering you. Im not, Im really not, you sometimes seem like youre profusely apologizing when thats not what Im concerned with. I never expect an apology from you. When I tell you something, its just to let you know how I feel. Im not telling you you have to change.
Does that make any sense? Its just that if I tell you how I feel about something, its just to let you know where Im coming from, not to make you feel bad or make you apologize or make you feel like you have to change.
You dont have to change. I love you. Ill write to you later.
7-23-82 2:45 p.m.
hi, im back, and ive decided not to use any capital letters in this letter. im such a rebel. anyway... catherines such a bitch its absolutely amazing. now i remember why i didnt want to live with a roommate. i hate finances, i wish i could just go off somewhere and live and not have to worry about money. id be anywhere other than here if i had that luxury.
shes so petty it makes me sick. she lays claim on furniture we bought together, and guess what? shell probably never move anywhere because she has no initiative and no independence. and when i move on, and do something with my life, shell resent me so much for making her either find another roommate or live independently that shell fight me tooth-and-nail for things that I am just as much entitled to as she is. and i have to deal with this. why?
and the thing is, half of me would want to say its not worth the effort, that she is not worth fighting with, and that the price of half of the furniture would be a small price to pay to keep her away from me. but then again, she doesnt deserve to win this kind of petty battle solely because she is aggravating.
i got your letter a few minutes ago. once again you write such gushy stuff that Im overwhelmed. i dont think i know how to write gushy stuff. ill leave all that up to you. keep up the good work.
i dont want to be here. i dont want to work for pennies at a mindless job. i dont want to have to hate my home. i dont want to be bored off my ass. i dont want to be alone.
god, im the cheerful one today. kelly wants me to go to the outlet store with her to pick up the candles and plates for her party. well probably talk about you. rather, ill try to get a word in edgewise about you while she rambles on and on about her wedding (wedding should have been in capital letters to stress the importance of “the wedding,” but because im being a rebel i refrained from the use of said capital letters). i know, Im being strange.
geez, Im being depressing. sorry. ill try not to be so. its hard though, when im here, and when youre there. but more importantly, when im here. i hate this.
at least i have my computer here. but right now im trying to do something with a program and its not working. im getting frustrated.
i had a dream last night that i was out on the patio with catherine and i had a shotgun, or a pellet gun or something. we were complaining about animals running all over the driveway, so i aimed for a cat across the public pool. i dont know if i hit it or not, but it jumped into the pool, started bouncing around in the water, then bounced out of the water, over my head and under the fence off the patio. it was the scariest thing ive dreamed in a long time. catherine woke me up as it bounced off the patio. she started blaring the television in the other room and woke me up. i was hyperventilating for a bit. it was very strange. i dont know what it meant.
but we went to garage sales today. i didnt find any books for you, but i got a couple books for me - a dr, seuss, a freud, 1984, carnegies novel, an old dating etiquette book (that should be fun), and a sex book. wait - ill get the sex book out now.
its called “everything you always wanted to know about sex.” good name, i suppose. ill just randomly turn to a page...oops, that was on male homosexuality. ill turn to another page...birth control. geesh, im picking all the fun topics randomly, now, arent i? oops, this paragraph said that one couple when out of condoms once used saran wrap for a condom. now, i cant imagine anyone wanting anything so badly that they were willing to wrap their anatomy in clear plastic wrap.
oops, kelly just called and told me to come over so we could do the shopping scene. so...
I hope you really care for me as much as you say you do. Once or twice before I thought someone felt deeply about me, and they showed me I was wrong. I dont want you to do that to me.
Sometimes I feel doubtful. Catherine was telling me I should see other people, or at least not rule out other people, because this is now a long distance relationship. It reminds me of a long distance relationship that went foul really quickly. I didnt like that, not at all. I just read one of the letters I sent him. It was so sappy, it was starting to sound like one of the letters I send you. That frightened me. I wonder if this relationship will end as abruptly as his did with me. I dont want you to do that to me.
I have put so much trust into you, so much caring. I dont want you to take that lightly. Yeah, you talk about marriage. So did he. He sweet talked me, swept me off my feet. You dont know how much I cried when I lost him.
Granted, it wasnt love. I suppose it was some sort of infatuation, but I wanted it to be more than that. I thought that was what he wanted, too. Maybe he was frightened of having a long distance relationship when his last one ended with his fiancee having an affair with his best friend on the other side of the country.
Maybe he just didnt like me as much as he thought he did.
Yes, whats done is done. But I just cringe every once in a while when I think that you could do that to me too. Why not? You have years of school ahead of you, I have life stuck here. Where would we live? How would we match our lives so that everything actually worked out?
Now, Im not trying to talk you out of trying, although thats probably what its sounding like. I just want you to make sure you know what youre saying when you say that you want to spend the rest of your life with me. Dont toy with my emotions, so to speak. I dont think I could handle it if your were doing that.
But dont think Ill go psycho if you did turn around and break up with me, dont get a cocky head or anything, just remember that it would hurt. So... What am I saying? I have no idea. Dont break up with me, I suppose. Either that or just constantly remind me about how much you care for me. And mean it.
Oh, Im sorry for all that. It probably sounds really stupid. I just get insecure and lonely here. Alone. Without you.
Here I am again, bored. Its still the first day, and I hate looking like I have nothing to do here. I have my own office and no one else is in it right now, but Im afraid that someone will walk by and see my feet up on the desk and fire me or something. Geesh. I wish I brought some work from home to do while I was here. I wonder if this is what careers are really like - a lifetime of trying to find something to do so you look important. All this time Im sitting here trying to figure out what photographs to bring tomorrow to put up on the wall in front of me, should I bring frames for them, how will I put them up on the wall.... I really cant believe Im sitting here trying this hard to do absolutely nothing.
Im starting to worry that this is actually what people do for all of their lives. That their occupation is trying to look important, or busy. Worthy of a raise when the’re really not doing anything. This one guy, Tom, told me once that the trick to being respected at the office is to always look angry, always look like youre in a rush, that you always have a lot to do. Put extra papers on your desk, make it a little messy, always have stuff in your “in” box (even if it isnt work to do), always remember to make a phone call or jot down a very important reminder when someone is trying to talk to you. Always make everyone wait to talk to you - even if it is just for ten seconds - while you attend to some sort of made-up “business” - whether it be finishing up a fake phone call or writing something “very important” down. Act like you have to get up to do something, even if its only getting coffee. And always have a furrowed brow. Sigh a lot, try to look a little tired, or a little sick (that way you are thought of as a “trooper” for coming into the office even when youre not feeling well). People think that you have so much work to do that they want to give you time off, even when they dont know what youre doing.
And neither do you.
Urgh. Is that what life is all about?
I cant believe that this person actually thought this way, that this friend of mine had actually put that much effort into trying to look like youre doing something when youre actually doing nothing. Dont you think thats a problem to actually get to that point?
But I think Im starting to get to that point too.
I dont want that for myself. I want to do something I like. Im driven, and I cant live like this.
Or does this just happen when nothing else in your life works for you, and you finally get tired of striving for dreams that never seem to come true?
I remember having a teacher in high school and he seemed really smart, but it just seemed like he got so tired of the screaming student, and trying to make kids care, that he always walked a little slower, never smiled, just gave us our work to do and then went to his desk to finish his work. And I remember thinking then that he was burnt out on the school system, that he tried for so long to make a difference, but faced one too many kids who just didnt care. And now hes like a robot, making almost no impact on anyones lives.
Including his own.
Is this what everyone else in the world ends up like?
Theres this 8x10 of Oliver North tacked to the wall above my computer. Working here is going to be fun, I can just tell. Jared, the vice president here, shares the office with me. Hes got all these pictures of himself in golf leagues. It reminds me of what my dads office used to look like when I was little. Its strange. And there are all these newspaper clippings of his son, Steve, who used to be in a minor league baseball team. Now he works here with his dad, and he sure as hell doesnt look like an athlete (but then again, baseball players arent really athletes, the’re more like spitting crotch-scratchers, right?).
The’re going to love the things I put on my walls, arent they?
Anyway... I just talked to Jared, asking him if I can take a half hour break instead of an hour break, so I can leave at 4:30 instead of 5 and get to my other job on time. That would be nice. He said it was fine, but he didnt seem to be in a very good mood when I talked to him. You know, working for Jared and William (William is the head honcho, Jared is the vice president and the “next” head Honcho), is like working for two people that act just like my dad. Two dads, where I work, when I still have one dad that I have to deal with in my own family. Thank goodness there are all women for my superiors at my second job! And thank goodness that the two dads at work dont complain that I use the phone too much, or wear too much make-up, or that I have a boyfriend, or that I dont look happy, or WHATEVER.
Well, I just got a call with some information I needed, so Im going to actually do some work right now. Talk to you soon -
The’re going to let me go at 2:30 so I can drive back to town and get the cable that they need for the scanner. 45 minutes away. Maybe Ill read about the credit union for a bit.
Well, from what Ive read, I dont really want to bother changing my checking account. The differences arent that great when you consider that I have no charges to my account since its in joint with my savings. But the credit card does look like a good idea. I decided a while ago that Im going to cancel all of my credit cards that have any annual fee on them. Hey, that just reminded me that I have to buy new checks. I want some marbleized effect on my checks or something a bit more stately, thank you very much. I have to look into it tonight when I get home.
Now, promise me you wont complain anymore about the fact that I never write you. I dont like writing for the most part, but typing I can seem to do forever. Especially when it makes me look like Im working. Ill probably be able to print up a lot of letters for you, even if I cant type them here, if I dont have the time (I can still type them at home). Now youll be inundated with letters, you poor boy, and youll regret the day you told me I didnt write enough.
Well, before I leave here Im going to try to see if I can apply for that credit card over the phone. Then I can do it here and I dont have to worry about filling out more forms and waiting even longer. Im not a very patient person, you know.
Well, Im going to clean the office. The secretary (Sally) is a really cool lady, and everyone here is just like, “well, I wish there was something for you to do... well, do whatever you can to keep busy.” She said I can use the printer now. Ill straighten up here, call the credit union again about the credit card, and then... go. I love you, honey. Ill love to get a picture of you here, so I can feel like youre my family that I go home to in the evenings. Well, youre not, but let me think of you that way. I love you-
Hola, my beefy burrito of manliness. I think my writing you letters while Im at work is going to become a big-time habit. Ive discovered that the version of the program they have that they have here is so outdated that you cant even change the size of type that you put in it. When youre trying to make a brochure thats supposed to look good, then little details like that matter. Someone just walked in. I get really freaked out when someone comes in, I dont want them to think that Im slacking. Im going to bring in two new versions of the program they have here tomorrow, but until then, theres not much I can do (their version and my versions of the program arent compatible, so its pointless for me to work with their program today).
Two months ago this morning I found a dozen roses and a birthday present on my car seat for my birthday. I love you.
Hi. Its now 3:55. Ive been a little more busy today than I was yesterday (thank goodness), but I still have plenty of time to write. I want to go take a picture with you at a portrait studio. Okay, if you think its a dumb idea, fine, but I still think it would be nice to have a nice picture of the two of us to have around.
Jareds phone always rings, the secretary always transfers the line to his office, but hes never here, so I have to sit in here by myself and listen to the very loud ringer on his phone ring all the time. It drives me nuts. And they tell me that Jeff (the salesman that is also in this room but is on vacation this week) is a very loud talker - that if hes on the phone, I may as well not even think about using the phone myself. For a person who likes her privacy and peace and quiet when she works, I can tell this is going to be a pain.
But alas, I shouldnt complain, at least I have a full time job where I have enough privacy that I can sit and write you long pointless letters most of the time. The woman that Im doing most of the work with for the brochure is cool. I wish I could remember her name, but shes cool.
Im starting to learn the names of different types of saws by playing with their pictures. My nephew, who loves all sorts of gadgets and construction stuff, would be proud. When I got the job, all he cared about was the catalogs that I got. No, actually, he was happy for me that I got the job, but I think it was partially so that he could have someone else to talk to about saws and mixers and other cool stuff like that.
I called Ron during my lunch break. He said hed look up your new number. I gave him the address, but I didnt have the new number on me. Hes going to be in Naperville Wednesday and Thursday, so Ill probably see him Thursday night.
So now that Ive talked about myself at great lengths, how the hell have you been lately? You know that I worry about you constantly. I dont think you have to worry about finding a future for yourself. Itll happen. Just believe in yourself for once and youll be amazed at what you can do.
The more I was thinking about it, the more I came to this conclusion: Tony Stevens has a pretty perfect life. You know who Im talking about, my old professor who had that part-time business running...I dont know why that popped in my head, but it did. But this is why I think his life is perfect: hes got s good job teaching, he likes what he does and hes good at it. Hes got a nice suburban home (pretty decent size, you know) and a pretty wife. He works at his little business on the side, hes young. Good deal, I say. And driving around in the slums on the west side makes me want to live in a smaller town.
Anyway, Im going to close this letter, Ill write more tomorrow, Im sure (unless they actually figure out what Im supposed to be doing here). I love you--
Ah, crap. Its 4:40, and I still have nothing to do. I have a ton of crap to do at home, but nothing to do here. I talked to Susan because I was bored. She said we just got our diplomas in the mail today. Great. I called in at my second job to see if they still needed me there tonight. They do. Great. Its Thursday night, I should be at a club dancing, but instead Ill be working at my second job. Great.
Well, Im starting to get worried that someone is going to come in here and see that Im typing a personal letter, although I think everyone has pretty much left. I think Im one of the few people here that actually is supposed to stay until 5. Oh well. Im really going this time - I love you -
Hi, dear. Im on lunch break. I brought a couple of 5x7s to the office - one of Dan and Liz and I, one of Nancy and John. I still have to get a good one of you. I think we should go to a portrait studio. (okay, Ill shut up about the portrait studio - by the time you read this anyway, we will have discussed that matter already). It is kind of quiet in my little office. I have things to do, but it never seems to be enough. I can find personal things to do to fill up the time, for the most part.
Wow. I was just looking through a computer catalog, and it had on it a CD-ROM package of computer-generated stories. my sister knows the woman who did it, and she thought that I should try to get published this way because of the fact that this woman got published that way. Wow, shes in a computer catalog. The program she designed is a lot bigger than mine, its got sounds and stuff, its on CD-ROM, but maybe that would make mine more marketable (if it was only on one or two disks and sold for a smaller price). And her CD ROM sells for 60 dollars. I could sell mine for six. Wow, I never even thought about stores selling my work. I dont think it would be possible, because chain stores would have to get an okay from the head offices, and the head offices probably dont go for this kind of marketing strategy (in other words: like I have a chance. Sure. Just Give Up.).
Wow. What a neat idea, though. Maybe I could strike some deal with the store so that they could give a copy away with the sale of a certain product. Or maybe I could strike a deal with certain libraries to get these disks in the libraries. I wonder if there is a way to find out which libraries carry computer disks. Hmmm. I should talk to the friendly people at my local library.
Now Im really intrigued. Im almost not even tired. Well, Im still tired, and as soon as I have to do something associated with this job Ill get tired again, but for now my adrenaline is going. So now it feels like Ive got this pit in my stomach. What a nice feeling. Oh, I like feeling like Ive got an ulcer. Its so pleasant.
Someone complimented me on the ring you gave me today. I think it was because they had one very much like it in blue topaz. Her ring was pretty too. But I like mine more.
Well, Im going to sign off, Ill probably write again before I leave (at 4:30 instead of 5)...love you...
Hi there. Im very depressed. When I left work yesterday, I cried as I drove all the way home. You start classes today. I wish I was going back to school. I really do. Three people like my dad to deal with is just too many. Three too many. I got photos back yesterday, from our road trip in Tennessee. I have copies for you. I brought a photo of you and Betty to work today. My mom bought me a mug for coffee at work. Thats about all thats new. Oh, fuck. I just took a sip of my coffee and its cold. I should be doing some work anyway, so Ill go.
Hi, honey. Ive been typing in addresses for mailing lists all morning. Ooh, thats a fun job. Anyway, they had me go to the printer today. Im starting to make more connections, and its getting a bit more interesting. Mind you, its just a bit more interesting. I think I need a small rolodex. and business cards, so that when I meet people, they dont think Im a flake.
I keep looking at that photo of you and Betty. Its leaning against my keyboard. Its such a great photo because (okay, Im going to get sappy now), it just looks like youre loving playing with this kid in this photo. It just makes me think about what a great father youll be one day. The kind of person that cares about his children, that would never want to hurt them, who would talk to them, smile with them, play with them, try to be a part of their lives. Its a nice thought.
I dont know if I should be happy thinking about you like that, or sad thinking about me like that.
Ive been drinking from my new (spankin new) coffee mug all day. Ive officially declared today as caffeine day. Im going to shake until tomorrow, I just know it.
William was pleased with the work I did on the labels this morning. The’ve been having trouble with other computers and mailing lists lately. Hmmm. Maybe I scored a few points. He even said, “Hi, honey” when he first gave me the work, and he gave me a little side-to-side hug. A little refreshing.
Now Im frightened that Im pleased that he called me “honey.” What an awful name! I suppose it is better than his usual grunt, but its still degrading.
I was so aggravated when I left here yesterday. As I said, I cried half the way home in the car. Its just that this isnt what I want, not at all. I dont want to be a secretary for some pig and live with a woman that sucks and have my parents meddle in my life all the time and drive through a shitty part of town every day and basically be a very “type A” person. I dont want that for my life. I used to have this little dream float around in the back of my mind, I thought about it again this morning: being a history teacher at my old university, teaching classes. I dont think it will ever work for me, though.
Oh, shit, I dont know anymore. It gets so depressing here. I face a wall in a room by myself every day (unless, of course, Jared, dad #3, is sitting at his desk next to me, oh happiness) wishing I was with you. Get a job up here, would you? Or win a huge lottery or something, just so wed have enough to be able to be together and not be living on Saltines and chunky peanut butter the rest of our lives. Oh well, I can dream...
God, its scary that Im thinking about winning the lottery instead of doing something that I actually want to with my life. I wish that there werent so many blockades up in my way when Im just trying to live my life and make myself happy.
But I should probably go again, just to do some more work before I go. Maybe Ill write again before I leave today.. Im thinking of you -
Im bored. Ive decided to give you a copy of one of the pages Ive been working on, when they dont have me running to the printer or dealing with advertisements, or typing addresses into the computer... Its really exciting stuff. I love it.
Hi again. I just thought Id say goodbye before I left. I got a lot of work done,and I dont have to work at my second job, which means I can go out with Susan and Jessica and Ned for longer. Now Im just trying to get Friday night off...
I love you to death. Ill write tomorrow.
Its lunch. They all go out and buy food for one another and eat lunch together, and I sit here in this little room on the side, bringing my own fucking cheese sandwiches because I never talk to anyone. Like I could think of anything to say to these people. Half of them have posters of naked women in their work areas. Like I even have enough money to buy my own lunch.
Its bearable here, I was in a better mood this morning because I was thinking of you, but William had me typing more fucking mailing labels today, and trying to keep your head straight while youre typing all these stupid addresses is hard, so my good mood is shot. Maybe when I go to the printer Ill get into a better mood again. I cant wait it see you. Im going to eat now.
Hi there. I just finished one of the jobs . William and Jared are gone, so there isnt much for me to do. You should have left to come visit me by now. I hope so. Ive got a lot to do tonight: take photos of a couple of kids for freelance work, get Ellens shower present from the art store (the’re framing it), possibly work... Wait. Im going to call my second job now to see if they need me. Its probably too early to call, but Ill beg them to let me go. Hold on.
YAAAH-HOOOO!!!!! I dont have to work. So Ill go there to pick up me check, Ill go to the store to get Ellens present, then Ill go to do the photography work. Then well hang out for a bit, then well go to the movies. oh, this is nice. then Saturday morning I take photos of mom - Ill explain that one in a minute, then we take photos, then I wrap Ellens present and make a pasta salad and we go and drink all afternoon. cool.
They want me to work at my second job Sunday from 11 to 1. Its only 2 hours because a girl there just quit and they cant find someone who can come in that early. will you still be in town? oh, Ill figure it out . Oh, Im so happy now. I get to spend the evening with you. I dont have cash, though. piss. Ill get some somehow. I just got my check from working here 4 days. Its something horrendously small, like $150 or something.
Ooh... I think I hear a boss voice. Let me check. Love you -
No, no one that resembles a boss is here. I think William is playing cards with his friends anyway. Ah... About an hour to go, then Ill drive home. And then Ill see you. Jessica and Susan and I were out last night and Jessica and I were just babbling about how happy we are being tied down and everything. Susan was kind of sad, but we couldnt hold it in. Its just so nice to care about someone so much. Susan is going to see a country concert tonight. Not sure who is playing - like Id know the artist anyway. She was asking people if anyone had a cowboy hat she could borrow. I thought that was just gross.
Wow. Im almost done with my first week of full time work. Weve got copy machines here (red and black ink), a laser printer, a computer and a scanner for me to abuse. That part of the job I love.
Well, Im out of paper. Im really going this time - I love you -
8-31-82 1:20 p.m.
Hey there, baby doll. Im not going to write much now, but I just wanted to say that I am so glad that I got to see you this weekend. I hope you had fun. I did. I cant wait to see you this Sunday , go to the show... I figure well go to the lake front again afterward. Theres a jazz festival at the music shell Sunday starting at 3 p.m., maybe we can see that.
I dont know when the next time I can visit is. the weekend after Labor day is the bachelorette party, the next weekend is the wedding, and youll be coming up here. Maybe the weekend after that, after my parents leave for Mexico, maybe then Ill be able to make it. But you know I want to be there. I hope things are going well for you. Im going to get back to work. I love you.
Hi there, honey. People are talking in the other room about the new health plan were getting. It seems like it pays 100% of most everything, which is a damn good deal, if I can believe it. This is an interesting job. The secretary is on vacation, so I took a letter for William and faxed it. Ah, the many tasks I have to do. Jared just walked by. Ill work on my catalog. I miss you already-
Ive decided that I hate him. William, that is. Ive decided that I dont want to be a secretary, too. This man is a jerk. I hope the secretary is sick and not on vacation, because if shes gone for 5 weeks (thats how much vacation time she gets), I sure as hell dont want to be doing her job for that long. Get a temp, you cheapskate. Anyway... Im still thinking of you-
Hello there, my baby doll. I just wanted you to know that I love you. Eek, Im getting to say that vulgar phrase far to often. You tell me not to swear, well, love is a four letter word...
I talked to you earlier today, I wonder how much those calls cost on my calling card. But Im glad I heard your voice. Youre going to be exhausted Sunday morning. Youre going to be a dud all day, I can just tell. You really should rest more.
Rose and Jen at work told me they approved of you. They said that anybody who would bring the flowers to work to try to surprise must be okay. I assured them that you were.
Ive been working on this catalog ever since Ive been here, and Gwen (the woman telling me what to do on it), just told me to scratch 1/4 of it, they forgot they needed a bulk mailer page. I love intelligence.
Why cant people figure out what the need done ahead of time, so everyone can be more efficient? It seems like half the work I do here is not actual work, but corrections on the work I did - and its not because I did something wrong, but its because someone else forgot something and needs to rearrange the whole project. A lot more could be accomplished if people knew what they needed ahead of time.
But then I guess wed all have to fill up more of our time by faking looking busy, wouldnt we?
But the thing is, they give me changes because they forgot stuff, but the give me all these changes late when we had a deadline for getting the project done. So ninety percent of the time Im bored doing nothing, five percent of the time Im working, and five percent of the time Im running around frantically trying to get their corrections done in time for the deadline because they were late in giving me corrections that should never have existed in the first place. We could at least spread that work out so Im not bored here as much as I am.
Does that make any sense? It just seems like people are so inefficient.
Oh, poop. Someone just walked straight into this room, leaned over my shoulder and said, “What are you doing?”, but I think I managed to close the screen before they actually saw anything. Oops. Well, like I have much else to do.
Actually, I could be doing a few other things. But I dont want to do them.
William asked me if I had enough stuff to keep me busy today, and since I told him yes, he has completely left me alone. And I have been pretty busy - even though Im writing you now.
While I was working at my second job last night, I started talking to Rose, and we started in on religion (shes religious, Im not), and then we started talking about how our lives have been so different. Her father was a minister. You know my story. Well, I told her about my family, my dad, even about Alan ( and Ill tell you about all of that later), and we started talking about all these things. It was really cool. We even started talking about that whole racial thing with me at the womens rally (the black women not wanting me to walk with them...) All in all it was a very interesting evening.
Wait - did I ever tell you about that? The time when I was walking to the womens rally? It was right around when I met you, so I might not have. Well, I was walking to this rally, to photograph it, it was a huge march for womens rights and womens safety, and Im walking down the street and I see this other group of women (an organization of their own, not just a group of friends) walking to the rally too. Their group was some black womens organization group, and they were going to march in the rally as a group. They had signs, and they were saying chants, and stuff.
So, I thought Id show my support for their organization, so I walked across the street (originally we were walking parallel to each other), and walked with some of them (there were about 25 black women walking in this group). We were going to the same place anyway, so I figured I was just being supportive... I even started saying one of the chants that they were all saying.
Now, I know Im white, and yes, I was the only white women walking with them. But the group was to support the progress of black women, and I supported it enough to walk with them, even if it was only because we were going to the same place. Seems innocent enough to me.
So then a women from the group starts walking next to me, she was obviously the leader of the group, and she asked me, “Do you know what group this is?”
And I said yes.
Then she asked, “Then you know were a group for black womens rights?”
And I said yes.
And then she said, “Well, some women in this group are uncomfortable with you walking with us.”
I was stunned. I was just trying to be supportive, right? So I said, “I was just trying to help -”
When she said, “I know, but some people here feel uncomfortable.”
And I didnt know what else to do. We were going to the same place... Was I supposed to look for an alternative route?
So, I walked to the other side of the street again, and turned a corner so we didnt have to look at each other the rest of the trip to the meeting place.
And for the rest of the time, that incident just sat there, in the pit of my stomach, and stewed there, apparently with all the acids and bile and stuff in my stomach, because it just started making me feel more and more uncomfortable, more and more tense. If they didnt want help and support from all people, what did they want?
I guess it still bothers me, and I still dont know what to make out of it all.
Susan just called me - if I dont have to work tonight, maybe well do something. I think I have so many other things to do, though, that Ill just never get them done with the amount of free time that I have at home.
Im saving copies of all the old copies of flyers and catalogs to give to my nephew. Hell probably have more interest in them than I do.
Im going to tell William sometime that we should invest in some floppy disks - we have room to store everything on the hard drive, but if anything happens to the hard drive, all my work is gone. Not my letters to you, of course, because I keep them all on one of my own floppies, but all of their work. All of the scanned images, the saws, the blades, the logos, and all the page layouts for their flyers and brochures. Tee hee hee. They wouldnt want that to happen, now, would they? It is a smart idea, though, and then I can probably get a lot of money for buying a bunch of disks and a case for them. Then I could even get copies of all the work I do on disks for myself, in case I ever need them to show the work I did for another job prospect.
You know, Im sitting here working on the computers, pretty much baffling most of the people here, and I cant even figure out how to add on the adding machine. Its like the buttons dont work or something. I figured out how to multiply, divide tell it to print or not to print, but getting the damn thing to add or subtract is a huge mystery.
Yes, Im bored. But I want to be bored for a minute. I dont want to think about brochures, or what bills I have, or how I have to get home at lightning speed in order to eat before I go to the next job. I can feel myself getting aggravated already.
I dont want to look at all the crap thats around me, all the things that I dont want to be doing with my life, but its all right in front of me.
9-2-82 11:00 a.m.
Hello. Im tired. I worked last night, and I think I”m coming down with what my mother has, shes had a cold since the weekend. I dont want to be as sick as shes been. I cant afford to do that. Im trying not to talk much, and I brought soup for lunch. Yes, I”m taking my vitamins, and drugs, although I dont want to take much of those. I want to look for a more holistic means of recovery. Ill try to take a bath tonight, maybe meditate or something.
I cant do all the work they want me to do on this computer, because the screen quality is so poor I cant tell what Im doing. Im going to ask William if I can work at my house for part of the afternoon. I wonder if hell go for it, or just think Im trying to get off work. Honestly, though, I cant adjust gray-scale photos here when the monitor doesnt print gray.
I bought another pair of pants last night. Black. Its hard to find my size, so I jumped on them when I saw that they came in. Ill never save any money at the rate Im going.
And I dont know how much money Im going to get for taking pictures for that freelance job. I hope she pays me well- most photographers are paid well for their services, especially when the’re freelance. Well see.
Well Im going to go now, I told the guy here in charge of the petty cash that its a good idea to back up the work I do on floppy disks. He agreed, so Im making a trip to Radio Shack now.
Ive been screwing around all morning. I hope things get faster here.
I had the stress of getting a new job this month...PMS and a cold... Its my lucky day. And youre not with me. What else could go wrong?
Ive been writing you a letter on paper because I was doing computer work. Im taking a break from that now. Im going to see you in a few hours. Im so relieved. I want to spend my time with you. Its that simple. If all the money I make goes toward finding ways for me to spend small amounts of time with you, then its all worth it. I just want to feel you holding me. I just want to know that youre there for me, that youll be there for me, that you want to spend your time with me.
Its so good to know that you exist. That someone as pure as you exists. And that you think that Im good, too. Oh, now Im being sappy and stupid, but everything I see and hear and think of makes me think of you and makes me feel good. You just make me so happy.
I dont know what more to add to that. Its that simple. You truly make me happy. Even though we argue half the time were together, you make me happy. Really happy. I love you.
Well, Im going to go, because Im once again running out of time (but this also saves me from being even sappier - oops - more sappy - on paper). I love you so much that I cant tell if this is joy or pain I feel. I think its joy. I love you.
I just heard about your fender-bender. You really should be more careful, young man. I dont appreciate you getting into accidents - especially when I cant be there to nurse you back to health. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you said you werent hurt, but I wouldnt be surprised if youre in a little pain tomorrow, you know, soreness and all.
Okay, enough joking. DAMNIT, BE CAREFUL!!!! I know it wasnt your fault, but I still dont want anything happening to you. Christ, I care about you so incredibly much that if anything at all happened to you I dont know what I would do. Collapse and die, I suppose. I swear, I was on the verge of crying for about two hours after you talked to me on the phone at work and told me what happened. I knew you were okay, but I still worried, and I still couldnt help but think about you getting hurt, or something terrible happening to you.
I think I did cry for a while at work, and for the most part I was really unpleasant to be around for a good while. Please be careful. I dont want to lose you. I know youre accident-prone. But I dont want to take any chances with you. I dont want to risk that. I love you so much it hurts. Geesh, Im mushy, but hell, weve got a whole future ahead of us - one thats going to be absolutely wonderful - as long as youre around long enough to let it happen. Please be around long enough to let it happen.
I had a bad dream last night - one where my mother died. I normally dont have dreams that are that violent, that vivid, that scary, or that hit so close to home. I woke up a 4 in the morning shaking. I had to wake Catherine up. I talked to her, she told me to think of something nice, to get my mind off it. I went to bed, and I imagined that you were there, and you were consoling me, letting me know that it was just a bad dream, that you were there. And I imagined you kissing me, curling up next to me. And I felt better, and I was able to go back to sleep.
I want you to be there in the future, curled up with me, making me feel better. And I want to do the same for you. I want you to be there when we pick out furniture together. I want to have stupid arguments with you over nothing, and then I want to make up with you. I want to have all those dances with you. I want to go to bed every night and know youll be there, too. I want all those little times in my life, the good times, the bad ones, I want to have all those times with you. But you have to be around long enough to let that happen. Please be around long enough. I love you.
captains log, September 22, 1982, a little after 10 oclock p.m. Youre at work, and you said you were going to call me at 7 or 8. I understand that you couldnt call, but I still wish you did. I still worry about you. Im sure youre sore.
I want to see you. I dont think I can make it this weekend, but Ill sure as hell try. Im almost tempted to quit the my second job job just so I can see you on a more regular basis. My job is almost not worth it, with all the hassle it brings me.
Ive been thinking about you a lot today. Ive just been thinking about the future, spending it with you. I wish we had more time with each other, I wish we had those boring between days to spend with one another. Not just our time off.
I hope youre feeling okay. Id hate to think that you werent.
Im so tired, but Ive barely been home and I dont want my own time to be cut so short. I work two shifts tomorrow, have to go in to work early so I can leave early so I can make my second job on time. Thursday I work then go to a dinner Jenny is holding for Nicoles birthday. Friday I work, then its Nicoles birthday. Saturday I work. I think Im supposed to work Sunday, but Ill sure as hell try to get out of it.
I still cant believe there are big scratches in my car. I just found these gouges taken out of the front corner, right above my bumper. Someone must have nicked me while parking. I almost cried when I saw them.
I should tell the my second job people that I can only work on week nights, not on the weekends. If they dont like it, they can fire me. I dont want to lose the job, I suppose, but I hate waiting until a few days beforehand to find out my schedule. I cant make any plans that way.
I was so angry when I heard that I was probably scheduled for Sunday. I worked my ass off and managed to get the first half of Monday off of work at my full-time job just so I could spend more time with you. Now it seems there was no point in doing it.
Oh, well. I should probably go. My eyes are really tired.
I think Im going to tell Kathy that Ill quit today if she doesnt give me Sunday off.
Im so aggravated, and if I dont get any time to relax, Ill go nuts. Ive driven myself crazy before by giving myself too many things to do. Its happening again. Ive run myself ragged trying to do too many things at once, Ive driven myself to the hospital because if it. I dont want to do that to myself again. And I sure as Hell dont want my second job to do it to me.
I know people who gave themselves ulcers from stress, and they were in high school. God, I dont want to be like that. The more stress I feel, the more my joints hurt, the more aches and pains I have. To literally feel pain from stress manifesting itself in soreness, in an inability to move, thats horrific. Not lethargy, but pain. When you feel stress, you know you have to get a ton of things done, and then it hurts to do it. It just makes everything going ion in life that much worse, until all you can think about is th pain, and how you have to overcome the pain to get everything done in your life.
And I can feel myself going down that road again, and I dont know if I have to hit rock bottom before I can get any better.
If I had all the money in the world, Id get you out of debt. Id pay off the credit card bills, the University bills.
And then Id spend the rest of my money on myself, I suppose. But at least I was thinking of you.
Im almost liking how bored I can be here. At least I can have the time to do other things, to write you letters, to print labels, to make stationery, or whatever. And Im learning about different printing processes and costs. Today I got paper samples.
See, these things, even things that sound as stupid as paper samples, these things mean more to me than selling clothes, or doing some other stupid retail job that has no real value whatsoever. A discount is nice at the stores, I suppose, but I usually buy things on sale anyway. And while Nancy still works there, I can get an even better discount than the one I get now.
Im going to call Kathy (my manager) in a hour if she doesnt call me by then. I dont want to give ultimatums, but Im not going to work Sunday. I wont do it.
Its nice to have a photograph of the two of us in a frame on my desk. Its just a nice thing to look at.
When I come in Saturday night, lets just spend the time together. Lets dance a little, and I mean slow dance. In your living room. Oh, wait - your exciting roommates will probably stay home, wont they?... hmmm... well, well just have to dance in your bedroom then. Or go outside and bring a music box and dance by... oh, I dont know, we can go to a park or something.Well kill that remaining bottle of champagne. And just curl up with each other. I want that.
I miss spending time with you like that.
Catherines birthday is Friday, and I bought her a sweater, a pair of earrings and two necklaces. On the box I put four potpourri sachets and decorated it in a really neat way. It looks cool. And with money I had from free gift certificates, returns, etc., from my second job, I actually got about $8.00 cash back for buying her her present. Now thats what I call a good deal.
Have you listened to the tape I made you yet?
Wow. Its actually quiet around here. I think I might try to bring in a tape player, and play Big Band music in the background while I work. I think would maker the time go faster, too. Granted, Id have to turn the music off probably about every time Jared or Jeff (the salesman thats in the same office) walked in the room, but there are a lot of times when Im in here all by myself for a long time.
Its nice that I can get things done quickly on this computer, otherwise I probably wouldnt have the time to write you letters. But I want you to know that I do think about you, close to all the time. Remember that.
Sometimes I like being bored.
The rest of my life always seems so hectic that I shouldnt mind being bored.
Why is it that I dont know how to relax?
I just went into the other room with our portrait studio picture and put it face down on Barbs desk, then I left. She should be coming in as soon as she gets off the phone to bring the picture back and say, oh, you guys look so cute, blah, blah, blah...
I like showing that picture to people. I like having it on my desk.
Im going to have a pretty big portfolio of catalogs and brochures and flyers from this place by the time I leave. Thats probably a good thing.
Susan wanted me to go out last night, and I wanted to go to go sulk in my beer about having to work Sunday, but then she told me Jessica was going, and I didnt want to listen to her say, “Well, I dont see why youre complaining, my life is so much harder...” You know how Jessica gets. Its like, I know that when we go out, all the girls I mean, its often a big bitch session. But at least Susan and I have the understanding that we are each allowed to bitch about stuff, and not tell the other one that their problems arent important.
It wouldnt be so bad if Jessica didnt have such a condescending tone about her. I hear shes got a job now, which is cool. She might be calling me soon to ask if she can go on a road trip with me. Sure, Jessica, but I dont know if or when Im going.
Its lunchtime in about a half hour. Ill call my second job again in about 15 minutes. Ive really done nothing of any value today. Days like this are fun. William isnt around, and Jared has been using the outside office (and not the desk next to me) all day. The stuff he gave me to do takes about 15 minutes, so Im stretching it out a bit.
I still dont know what day I started working here. Im going to look in my checking book to try to figure it out (according to when I got my first check)... hold on...
I think it was August twenty-fourth, but Im not sure. If it was, then that means that tomorrow will be the one month anniversary of me starting to work here. Oh, joy. Well, it has its down points, but its better than my second job. It has regular hours. It has more hours. It has better pay. It has health and dental benefits. I can say I work in a major city, instead of a stupid suburb with no culture. (even though its a dangerous neighborhood... oh, wait, I was mentioning good points, not bad ones.) I have a lunch break that Im paid for. I can sit most of the time instead of running around. Sometimes there are free donuts. Okay, Im getting carried away with that one. But I do have access to a printer, a computer, a xerox machine, enough paper and supplies... and its something related to what I want to do with my life (as opposed to the enchanting career of fashion merchandising - what a joke).
It wouldnt be so bad if I quit that second job.
Well, well see what happens. Im going to go, Im running out of room on this paper. I love to to death (but not your OWN, so please be careful behind the wheel). Be careful period. I love you-
p.s. - I just called, and I didnt even have to threaten them. Im off Sunday. Ill see you Saturday night -
Hi. Im bored here, but Im starting to like that. I worked on some of my own projects this morning.
Anyway... I went out last night with some friends of mine from work and from high school... you met Ellen and Loretta, but Rich and Jack were also there, as well as John. We went to this local bar, sat around... They played darts. I talked to people, then went home. It was just something to do.
I have to go to dinner at Loris tonight for Nicoles birthday. Fun. Susan just called me at work here this morning, asking me if next weekend (October 2-4) Id want to rent a car and drive to Minnesota to see a football game. I guess Im getting old, but Im not in the mood for all the driving just to see a football game. Besides, I know I have to work Saturday morning (the 3rd), and I probably have to work Sunday (the fourth). Oh well.
I hope your car hunt is going well. I wish you had more luck when it comes to things like this. Every time you try to get ahead, something unexpected goes wrong, something backfires... Doesnt that seem like the way it always happens? Not to get you down or anything, at least you still have me (or is that another problem?).
Geez. Its not even eleven in the morning. How am I going to fill the next six hours? Maybe boredom isnt such a wonderful thing after all.
Hi. I went to work for a while (well, I just kind of created stuff for me to do, actually). Now its about 3 in the afternoon. I think I could have sat here all day, acted like Im doing things, and really have done nothing at all. Im amazed at how some days the’re on my back like you wouldnt believe, and some days I think I could walk out into the main office naked and no one would notice.
I cant wait until Christmas, when you come to visit me. Well decorate the Christmas tree together (well, it will probably be after Christmas when you visit, so well just admire the tree), well have nice long evenings by the fireplace with lots of quilts. Well spend New Years eve together downtown. Well have a great time, and I wont even have to go anywhere to do it.
Ill invite all my friends who will be in the area at Christmas time over for a nice dinner, maybe. Okay, a buffet maybe. Okay, maybe cheese and crackers. But the point is, Ill get people together and actually have a pleasant time over the Christmas holiday at my own place. That will be novel.
Hi. Im back again, its almost 3:34 in the afternoon. I know, it hasnt been long since I had written last. IM BORED..... Not that I dont want to write to you, of course...
I want to see you this weekend. Two days from now Ill be even worse about - Ill be at my second job just itching to leave. Oh... tentatively keep next Saturday night free, too, and dont schedule yourself to work Sunday night until later. I figured I better remind you a few times. Thank you. I really do love you, its just that sometimes I think your brain is made of brick. or wet cement. One of those.
Catherine said you at times are pretty tactless. I know your intention isnt to be rude, but it really comes off that way sometimes. You should be careful about the way you say things sometimes, and be careful to sometimes know when its not a good time to throw your opinion in.
Geez, its bitch about you time. Im sorry. But I thought youd want to know what Catherine said about you. I know that you have to deal with her when you visit me, and I know that sucks, but if you care about making any attempt to get along with her (and thats entirely your decision), you should just be careful with what you say and how you act.
Its 3:45, Im still bored.
Amanda just called me asking me to work Friday night. I told her I had to go out to dinner for someones birthday.
I got pictures back. Remember when we were finishing the roll in my office Monday morning? I took one of you, and its absolutely adorable. Ive pinned it up on my bulletin board. Now all we would need is a few burning candles and people would think you were a demi-god and we were trying to reach your spirit or something.
Well, maybe I am.
Theres not much else that I can think of. I want to write something, though, because I dont want to sit here bored.
I write a sentence, pause, try to think of another damn sentence, and then I feel bored again.
Oh, sorry, I just said Damn. I know you hate it when I swear. Oh, I just wrote it again. Sorry. I apologize.
Geez, its only 5 minutes to 4.
Maybe I could go to the bathroom, waste some time in there.
But I really dont have to go.
At least I dont think I have to go. Maybe if I go in there, Ill suddenly have to go, and I can waste a few more minutes.
I dont really want to get up, though. Geez, I think Ill leave early. This is stupid. It cant be too early, though, or Jared might actually notice. We wouldnt want that.
Okay, I just went into the bathroom. The whole “bathroom environment theory” failed. I couldnt bring myself to go to the bathroom, so I just kind of stood there for a while, looking at myself in the mirror, thinking how ugly I was. Then I noticed there was an old padded living room chair in the corner of the bathroom (yes, I noticed it was there before, but I never bothered to “test it out” before), so I sat down on it. It was comfortable, but after about a minute of just sitting in silence in the bathroom in a padded chair staring at the wall, I realized that this was pretty stupid and I got up.
So here I am.
Its 4:11 and a half now.
If I thought I could keep my head still long enough, and if I thought no one would walk by the door to my office, I might have tried to scan my head. Or maybe my butt. Oh, okay, I wouldnt have scanned my butt. Or my face, its a bright light in that scanner. But Im almost willing to try anything to keep myself occupied at this point.
Hm. I could think perverted thoughts about you..
Great!!! Why didnt I think of this before? Ill even write them down for you, so you can get all excited.Okay, now I have to think of something. Hm.... Oh, no, I cant even think of anything perverted. Well, I suppose I have an obligation to write perverted stuff for you now, now that Ive just started to make you think about it and all...
I know. I just got a picture in my mind of us sitting by the fireplace at Christmas time. Its evening, were curled up by the fire, I brought a ton of quilts from upstairs to the floor next to the fireplace. Its warm. Weve got blankets up to our noses, but I start to take your clothes off under the blankets. Unbuttoning your shirt. You do the same to me, and before you know it, were naked under piles of padded quilts. It feels so good, just to feel your flesh, just to touch your skin. We sit up, but keep the blankets wrapped around us as we make love to each other. Everything just feels so perfect, I can just imagine it now, my arms around you, my hands running through your hair, me kissing your forehead. I can feel your arms around my waist, your hands on my back, pressing my chest closer and closer to you.
Shit. Its 4:25, and its not even close to Christmas.
And now Im all excited, and I have to sit here at work. Why did I do that? Now I cant get this image of you and I making love out of my head.
Well, Jared just came in and gave me something to do for the last ten minutes. Making love is now out of my head. But my love for you never leaves me. Time to sign off -
Hi. I just wanted to tell you that I love you. I think about you all the time, I miss you something violent, and I always want to see you. Ill be visiting in less than a week and a half. But the time until then will seem like forever.
This is just a reminder to you, a reminder that Im always thinking of you, that I always want to be close to you.That I miss being able to curl up next to you and feel your arms around me. I love you -
Hi, there. Im expecting to see you in less than three hours. Im tired; Ive been feeling really sick lately. I woke up the past two nights at 4 in the morning freezing, and then I wake up a 6 or 7 dripping with sweat. Im tired, my body is trying to fight something off. I hate being sick. This is worse than a head-cold, there are times when I just want to pass out, at least when Ive got a cold I can still work, Ill just sniff a lot.
Everyone told me at work yesterday that I looked really sick. Pale, you know. Catherine said it, too. Please dont constantly ask me questions about it or anything, for then Ill think youre really unhappy with my body and you really want me to lose weight. Im just telling you this because Im starting to get a lot of pain again, like I did last year because of stress. I think its because at this time of year is when I start getting more and more sedentary, and I think exercise will make the pain go away (at least to some extent).
Its amazing how stress can make someone physically sick. We as Americans like to pop a pill for everything, and we like to assume that we just have to handle the stress, like something is wrong with us if we cant handle to pressures of our work or something. I think stress should be paid more attention medically. We should do more for ourselves to eliminate stressors in our lives, and them our health problems would probably go away a lot faster.
Im finding myself taking a lot of medication again lately because Im in a lot of pain. I didnt like having to take medication before, and I dont want to get into the habit again, even if it is over the counter medicine. There has to be a better way to feel better, right?
Last night I wanted to get so much done, I wanted to clean my apartment, Jessica was coming over, I wanted to do computer work... I felt so bad that I sat on the couch almost all night. I finally dragged myself out from under two blankets to get drugs and dinner at 8:30. But then I took a shower, tried to relax, and I started feeling better. I think having a positive attitude will do a lot more for me than fretting over it. I tried to dress up more today, put on make up, just so Id feel better about myself, my appearance. That might have a positive psychological effect too.
Well, I also get dressed up for you.
But you probably knew that.
Geez, my bedroom is a mess. There are clothes piled all over my bed, some of which Im throwing out, some I just didnt have the time to put away. Sometimes I have to run from one job to the next, and all I have time to do is throw some new clothes on. And throw the old ones on the floor. You know, I havent even unpacked from my last trip yet. I hate this.
I think its colder in my office than anywhere else in this place. I just asked someone to come in here and tell me if Im crazy; they thought there was no difference in the rooms. It must be because of the way Im feeling. I must begetting even more sick. Great.
Anyway, I think Im going to go, I want to find something to do. Im going to see you in almost two hours. Youre probably on the road as I type these words. I cant wait to see you. I love you -
Hey, there, darling. Im starting to feel a little better than I did yesterday. I got to work here at 8 a.m. and Im going to ask Jared today if I could leave at noon Friday, partially so I can get my oil changed Friday afternoon. I am due for another oil change. I dont see why he should say no.
Im revising my resume today, too - and Im going to make copies and start sending them out to places in the want ads. Id like to see what my other options are. I cant afford such a cheap job.
And Im almost even thinking of quitting the my second job, if all the’re going to give me when it comes to hours is every other weekend. I havent worked a weeknight in the past two weeks. If this keeps up, theres really no point. Getting a paycheck for 4 or 5 hours is stupid, especially when it gives me no time to rest.
So... Friday. Even if I go for the oil change first, Ill still be there before dinner. Lets have a cute little romantic dinner, PLEASE??? Oh, thank you. Youre so good to me. It doesnt have to be fancy, well make spaghetti, maybe have a little bread, Ill bring lots of candles. Itll be nice, and there wont be any of my friends or any of your roommates to bother us. What a pleasant thought.
But... Jessica and Susan will be in town for the weekend. I have Toms number on file, and Im sure we can get a hold of Susan sometime. I told them to bring their swimsuits. I think we should all get together and carve Halloween pumpkins. Maybe, if the weather is nice outside this weekend (I think its supposed to be), then maybe we could carve them outside, throw pumpkin guts at each other, stuff like that. Should be fun.
Thank you again for the candy and the books. I didnt even think about the fact that it was the only chance Id see you before Sweetest day. Hope you dont mind my stupidity. Hey, were all allowed it sometimes. It doesnt mean Im not madly in love with you, though.
Anyway, I guess I should go. There isnt much else for me to say, and I want to be sure that this gets out in the morning mail. Im thinking about you, honey -
10-19-82 7:45 p.m.
I cant stand Catherine. Shes driving me absolutely insane, Ive got a huge migraine from her (I mean, I cant even turn my head without being in pain), and she HAUNTS me. I mean, she wont let me be in a room by myself. I tried to start this damn letter to you and SHE came in, talking about something really pointless and stupid to me.
Shes just such a moron. She cant do much of anything right, and then she gets so stressed out that she gets even less accomplished, and then she feel like she can do nothing, and she becomes less successful, and the vicious cycle goes on. But its all her fault. And I cant pity that. It only makes me sick.
I designed a new resume today. You would almost think I was someone successful or important or something by looking at it, too. Someone who wasnt earning an income below the poverty level. I guess I shouldnt complain about Catherines inability to succeed until Im no longer living in the glass house, right?
Fuck. She just came in again. She keeps coming in and she keeps bothering me. Why does she think that I actually want to talk to her? Its like she has to be in the same room as me. I just want my privacy. Now Catherine just told me she wants to use my computer when Im done. Nice of her to ask. Well, at least I know shell be busy using the computer and Ill be able to just sit and read without her bothering me.
Fuck, she drives me nuts. I know Im swearing a lot, and I know you dont like that, but Ive got a lot of emotion here, and its hard to let it out and feel better when all Im doing about it is typing at a stupid keyboard. Im very emotional, and this is one way to keep me from blowing up.
Its just so irritating to deal with a roommate that is so incapable of living or excelling when I feel so driven.
But what am I driven by?
Speaking of being driven, I almost cut off my boss on the street as I was driving home today, yes, Im the type A driver... This guy in a wagon was going slow, so I eventually passed him, thought nothing of it... Then he came along side of me, rolled down his window, honked and asked, “Where did you learn to drive like that?”, and then he drove away. It was actually kind of funny.
I should have said “your mom,” but I didnt think of it until now. Damn, another opportunity lost.
Of course Im going to be driving as quickly as I possibly can when Im trying to get away from that boring job.
But of course my fun-loving mood was spoiled when I came home and had to deal with THE BITCH. BITCH, BITCH, BITCH, BITCH, BITCH, BITCH, BITCH. I just dont like her. I was telling her how she prods me to do things, and how she treats me like a child when I seem to have more of a head on my shoulders than bitch does. Thats it. From now on, shes not Catherine. Her new name is bitch. Its that simple.
Bitch is in here again, I dont know why, probably under the guise of cleaning or something, although more of her shit is around this apartment than mine. I really have to move this computer into my bedroom and out of the living room, in order to have more privacy. But theres no room in my bedroom... And when she would want to borrow my computer (and its not like shes going to stop using it just because its in my bedroom), shell be in the only place in this apartment where I can have some privacy.
And she yells at me, often for no reason at all. She vents at me, but somehow transfers her anger toward me, instead of facing her problems.
The heating went out in our apartment. Catherine got to calling someone about it, since she works less than I do. Thats another thing I dont understand, but I wont get into it now, because bitch keeps walking in and out of the room. LEAVE ME ALONE, BITCH. DONT YOU GET IT???
I think it would kill her if I said any of this to her. I think she would just shrivel up and die or something. Shes not very healthy. Im glad Im not like her. I mean, I know I have plenty of faults, and I know Im not the best at a lot of things, and I know I get stressed very easily, but at least I TRY to be the best and I GET OVER bad things. Bitch doesnt try, and if anything goes wrong, she flips out for weeks. Shes still flipping out over the leak from our bathroom, which was over a week ago. I mean, its a leaky faucet. Dont cry over it. Its fixed. Get on with life.
I could still be flipping out about the towing of my car and the taxi money, but Id self-destruct if I did that. Did I tell you about that? My car got towed when I went out with Susan and Jessica, so we took a taxi to get my car, and I left in the taxi my silk blouse and a bottle of wine while we checked to make sure we were at the right place, but the taxi car drove off. Great... Now some cab drivers fat wife is spilling good wine on my short.
Even that stupid problem, and other stupid small problems, aside, though, enough bad crap has happened to me that if I lived that way bitch does, I would never get anything accomplished. You cant wallow, or at least you have to eventually get past it and do something with your life. You have to move on. I guess I just made a decision that I couldnt live like that.
She never made that decision.
Shes exercising right now. Exercising for her mean walking in place for a half hour. GUESS WHY YOU DONT LOSE WEIGHT. Lets see... Could it be because you EAT LIKE A PIG? Or could it be because you need to do more than WALK for a half hour a day to make a difference?
Once again, I should move out of my glass house, but Im not in as desperate shape as she is.
Move out of my glass house? How about just move out of my apartment? God, I want to get out of here so badly. You know, my friend Chuck said to me before, “You really hate your life, dont you?”
If he was here listening to this, and asked me that question again, Id have to do a really good job of hiding my true feelings until he left. Than Id have to cry for a very long time.
Oh, crap, I should go. Try to relax. I think if I do this right, that typing could be a draining for me and I can fully relax now. I think Ill have some tea, sit in my bedroom with a book, and imagine you coming through the door. I love you -
10-20-82 8-something a.m.
Hi. Im here, at work, again. I think I had a better night sleep than I did the night before, but lately all sleep just hasnt been up to par. I tried to read after I finished my letter last night, but Catherine twice needed help working on a program on my computer. “I swear, I was about to start throwing things,” shed say,”It just wont do what I want it to do.” And she says I have a bad temper. I twice fixed her problems immediately, but my tea got cold while I was doing her work for her. Shes just such a... No, I wont use that word again. I dont know what word Id want to use to describe her anymore. A pain, I guess.
I tried to read my book, but I gave up at about 10-something. Besides, getting up before 7 a.m. means I should go to bed early, so I went into my room and tried to go to sleep. Thats when I cried.
I mean, I was just trying to have some soup and watch the debates last night and she wouldnt let me. Everything is a horrid problem for her, and she inherently makes it my problem by being a constant bitch, a pain, a nuisance. I dont know what Im supposed to do about it anymore.
I brought the newspaper with me this morning. Im going to look at the want ads at lunch and start sending out more resumes. I think Ill print some up now. Ill be back in a minute-
I just printed about 4 copies. I dont want to get caught doing this and have to explain why Im making updated copies of my resume.
Right now I just cant seem to be happy or enthused about anything. My job doesnt make me happy, being at home doesnt make me happy, going out gets my car towed, well, you make me happy, but youre too far away, which make me unhappy... This is just stupid. I dont like this at all.
Im so bored with my life. Its quite a depressing one, you know. (I hope you realize that Im writing all this depressing stuff because this is the only way I can ever vent it out and otherwise I wont be such a sorry depressing case. I dont think Im depressed all the time, but I cant seem to find another way to vent my frustrations. Thank you.) Im looking forward to seeing you. I want to just have a nice, quiet, relaxing dinner with you, maybe rub your temples, curl up with you, kiss you, rub my hands along your shoulders... hmmm... that would be nice. Tonight Ill make sure I get all my candles together. Maybe Ill even get around to cleaning our glasses.
Wow, even work here makes me feel better than staying at home and having to deal with... HER.
This new catalog is coming along pretty well. The other project is at the printers shop now; itll be finished in about 2 weeks. The new municipality project is the one Im getting quotes on now. Its cool to see these projects get done, to get back from the printers and look cool. Its neat to think that a hell of a lot of people are going to see it - see the work I did. I think thats nifty.
Well, Im going to work on it a little more... Ill write again soon...
Hi. I just had lunch, and I cant do much more of the tile catalog. I need more images, which are being mailed to me. Im going to use cool paper and cool ink. Itll be nice, I hope. A catalog that someone did came back from the printers and arrived here today. I designed the cover for it. One more thing for my portfolio... Its really ugly looking, its bright red and bright blue ink on bright white paper and it just gives me a bright headache. But thats what they wanted, something to jump off the page and attack you, as if it had a big stick or something. But its still nice to see a finished product.
Almost as nice as it is to see you (that was a pretty good transition, wasnt it?)... This weekend will be nice. My car will be clean, my oil will be changed, and I wont have anything that Ill HAVE to do for 2-1/2 days. And Ill have you. What more could I ask for?
I want to learn how to make paper. I want to mash stuff into a pulp, put it in a press, roll it out, dry it and make my own paper. Ive been thinking about that for a few weeks. I want to learn how. I could even put scraps of the potpourri into the paper and have potpourri stationery.
Wouldnt that be cool, though? I could make my own paper, my own note cards, the paper would probably have to end up being thick, like card stock, so it would be sturdy and unique. It probably has the potential for looking really cool. I wonder if a kit is necessary, if all I might need is a bucket, a rolling pin, stuff like that.
I know, Im weird. I cant help it. Im just like that. I get these weird ideas in my head and I cant help it. I like being able to create things, being able to say, “I did that”, or “I made that.” “That wouldnt exist if it wasnt for me.” I become woven into the things I make, they are inherently a part of me. That is my livelihood. That is what makes me feel like Im alive.
Paul (the gay guy with the bicycle you met last spring) - when I was going out with his roommate, Paul would always be talking about the paper he made when I was over there. Hed be showing me little sheets, and he even put potpourri into some of them. The final product looked really cool. I want to try it.
No, I dont know what Id do with it when I made it. Dont worry me with those little details now.
Maybe Ill force myself to take some photos this evening as soon as I get home from work, just so I can get myself started in the thinking process of what I want to do with them.
Im bored now. I want to make paper. God, that sounds really stupid. Go to the store and buy yourself some paper, idiot.
Hey - an evergreen bush... I could make paper with needles of an evergreen bush in it (you know, the needles that are about an inch long, we have them all over our courtyard). That would be kind of neat. I wonder if they have to be dry, though. No, they shouldnt have to be, because the paper has to be in a mushy-wet pulp in order to make it into new paper.
Mushy-wet. That just got me excited.
blah. Im bored now. I dont think I want to do any work related to my job for the rest of the day. There, I have said the word, and it shall now be executed. What should I do instead?
I could put human hairs in my paper. That would look kind of cool. I could cut the hairs so they were kind of short, mix them in there with the paper. That would be weird if it worked. I could even put stuff in there like thin ribbons (just woven in and out of the top of the page), or... I dont know, but there have to be more ideas. I wonder if I can have two different batches of pulp - paper in two different colors - and make one sheet putting the two pulps together, so that parts of the page were, say, blue, and parts of the paper were, say, pink. Nifty. Ugly color choice on my part, but nifty concept. Okay, new colors: light army green and dusty salmon. There. Better. Or Balsa. Or Hawthorn, or Aspen, or Cypress. How about Ash or Thistle? Okay, Ill stop.
Okay, I havent done any work since I said I wouldnt, but its only quarter to three and I dont know what to do.
OH!!! Ill call you. Ill be back in a minute.
Okay, Im on hold, your roommate is waking you up.
Okay, I just got off the phone with you, and you were very groggy. I was going to say that it was an unfulfilling conversation at best, but you started to perk up toward the end, and you actually put me in a better mood.
Hi. Im still bored. I tried to play on the computer for a while, make a new background for a program Im making, but it didnt really work out well, and now Im bored again. Man, Ive got an hour and a half here still. Poop. Super-duper-pooper-scooper. Plooper.
Oh, my. I think Im getting delirious or something.
10-20-82 11:34 p.m.
I just got myself out of bed because bitch has been in my room pushing me into another argument. Just driving home today I got myself into a horrid mood thinking about having to actually be in my apartment and be with her. So then she comes into my room at 11, just when I think Im going to be able to rest and be able to say that I made it through another day without killing her, and she comes in and start in on me. Basically, she wants to be my friend, to know everything about me, but then I tell her I need my space and she doesnt understand it... Well, first of all, its called PRODDING, not concern. Secondly, does she really think that we can be
FUCK!!!!! She just came in to the living room and started bugging me AGAIN!!!! Its like she cant fucking leave me alone!!!!!
Oh, and then my sister called. And how I wish shed get over this “But I took care of you when you were little” kick. Im not little, and... Does she really think we can be a family? Does she think that I can erase my resentment toward her? She probably doesnt even think that I hold any resentment toward her, but obviously I do, and I dont think I could get rid of it if I tried. Why does she think that I WANT to be close to her? She wants to be “Sisters” with me. What DOES that mean anyway?What does the sister-relationship mean to her even? After the way shes treated me all of my life, I dont know what she wants to get out of this relationship. I dont really know what its like to have a sister, Ive had a mother for a sister because my mother left me when I was little, so Im not very good at understanding this whole sister thing.
God, her and Catherine should get together. I want to be left alone most of the time, and she refuses to respect that. Shes overly concerned. And she makes me feel bad by saying that shes just concerned and trying to be a good sister. No, shes hurting me, I told her that, but not once did she hear me. I said to her, “Are you trying to hurt me? Well, thats what youre doing.” And she still doesnt get it. I dont know how much else Im able to spell out for her.
Between Catherine, the roommate from hell, and the unexpected visits and phone calls from my sister, I think Im going to go insane.
Oh, crap. I was in a bearable mood when I went to my room to go to bed. Why does she do this to me?
And why do I do this to you? Thanks for being an outlet for me. I might sound psychotic, but Ive needed this.
10-21-82 10:28 a.m.
Hi. Catherine even got psychotic this morning - she was throwing her coat throwing things on the stairs and SCREAMING, I dont mean raising her voice slightly, and she was swearing constantly (which isnt something she often does), and she was running back and forth slamming doors and pretty much crying right before she had to go to work - and why? Because she couldnt find her checkbook, it was somewhere in the house, she used it last night. It was insane. And then she dropped something in the garage (I think a computer disk), and she was flipping over that. I tried to stay as much out of her way as I could. What else am I supposed to do?
I tell you, that cant be a healthy thing to have to deal with on a regular basis. It cant be healthy for her, because shes going to kill herself after a while. But its not healthy for me, either, for I dont like the stress of not knowing how shes going to react to anything, whether or not it be my fault. Yeah, I would like to live alone instead of this. I would like to have my privacy, to not have to worry about offending others or having to listen to people throw tantrums because they cant find their checkbook, or have to listen to someone like that. I actually enjoy being here at work because I dont have her around. Its frightening when this place gives me solace.
I wish I could afford to live on my own. Four years of college, one of the best schools in the country in my field, graduated with honors, and this is what I get.
Ive been looking in the want ads, and there is NOTHING in my field. I mean zero. Theres nothing that I could think to apply for. Maybe its just a bad time of year for hiring. Crap. It feels like Im going to be stuck with this life forever. Promise me youll take me away from this. Promise me that, please.
Hi. Im feeling a lot better, since Ive been away from her for a good five hours. I just got back from lunch, and I was sitting in the telemarketing room with Gwen, telling her about Larry and his psycho computer list of women.
You remember the list - this guy I knew made a list on his computer of all the women he ever had relations with, then he accidentally gave me the list when he gave me a bunch of other computer files... What a freak. And he doesnt even know I know, and he wants to be pals with me. Like Id want to be pals with a guy that writes up lists of women who have given him blow jobs (although I did have to laugh that there were only two women on the blow job list). What a pervert.
I just feel bad for all the women who didnt know what a freak they were dating, and now they have their names on this list of his. What was his point in doing that? Id love to go to his computer and destroy that list. On behalf of all the women on it.
I really want to thank you for reading this. I guess I could have written all of this and then just thrown it all away, but its nice to know that there is someone out there that will actually read this, it kind of helps verify these feelings I have. You probably think that Im psycho after reading all of this, its just that sometimes I cant handle the crap people like Catherine and my sister throw at me. If I never vented this all out, I would probably explode someday, and maybe someday soon. Thank you for being there to write to, thank you for just being a sounding board. Catherine cant be a sounding board because she finds fault with my problems. Hell, shes the cause of half my problems... And no one else wants to be my sounding board. So thank you.
And you can do the same, you know, you can tell me when something is wrong and what it is. A lot of times I dont want to tell you my problems because I dont want to spoil the time we do have together. I dont want to think about the problems, so I just put them in the back of my mind. I had to vent stuff out now, and I thank you for letting me do that. But I do want to listen to you. I want you to know you can talk to me. I want to be there for you.
And on that note, I think Im going to close this. I love you -
10-28-82 8:38 a.m.
I feel like Im selling myself every day here. The work I do, if its good, people dont appreciate it, if its crappy looking, the’re in love with it. They ask me to change the good stuff. I hate that. And I take it as a personal slam on me if they dont like what I consider to be good, and I know I shouldnt do that, but I cant help it. Everything I do becomes a part of me because I created it. And they tell me its crap, a bunch of losers in this stupid business, and Im not supposed to take it personally.
I dont like being at my apartment, either. Great - where is there for me to go around here that I can stand? One of my jobs, maybe? I think not. And I dont feel like socializing around here.
Fuck, this is a pretty miserable life. And the scary thing is that I know it could be a lot worse. Something to look forward to, I suppose.
Why do I have to be here? Why does my life have to go like this? I want something good to happen, something to change in a positive way. I dont want to be depressed with my life. I dont want to hate everything I do. I dont want to feel like Im settling for anything.
Isnt it amazing that I never talk about this when Im visiting you? I never want to talk about my life while Im there. Its a little escape.
10-30-82 9 something a.m.
Boo. did I scare you? Here I sit, at my boring old office, wasting time because I dont feel like doing work. I wish I was with you instead.
My friend Max is in town for a little while, hes staying at the Hyatt, I dont know why hes there and I keep leaving voice mail for him but he hasnt picked it up. Ill be he doesnt know that he has voice mail, that he doesnt know how to use it. Geek. Itd be nice to see him again, if he ever gets the message that I called. Im on the phone right now with an operator, and yeah, they probably dont know how to use voice mail. but she said that as operators they have to tell them if they ever use their phone that they have x number of messages. But that means I have to wait for them to use the phone in order for them to be told that they have voice mail. Hope they get in and make a call.
Jared now keeps changing everything that I do. For the past three or four days I have given him a completed copy of the new catalog, and the next day every day he would give me the copy back with changes on almost every page. Yesterday he gave me a copy of the municipality flyer - the day it was going out to print - with changes on every single page. Crap like that takes a lot of time to do, especially when its a change like “add something here” instead of “change this word to x”. So I rushed around like an idiot all day trying to get it done on time. I gave him the stupid flyer weeks ago to stop that from happening. And if he changes around this new flyer any more, I think Im going to just have to kill him. Its that simple.
See, it all goes back to people not taking the time to figure out what they want on any given project. That so much time could be saved if people only thought coherently the first time. Then they wouldnt waste the time and effort of a number of people after the job had been finished.
Thanks for listening to me bitch in all my recent letters. Its just easy to get aggravated here. Im supposed to be going out after work with everyone from work because its Barbs last day here. Barb is the one who thought I looked 50 in my picture with you. Shes actually a big air-head, she cant even figure out how to match her clothes (she had a pair of socks that were sky-blue colored with little white clouds on them, for instance), shes got the really annoying voice... I really dont like her much at all. Oh, boo-hoo. Shes leaving. Sorry to sound so rude, but I even have to chip in money for a going away gift certificate for her. So she can buy some more ugly clothes, I suppose.
I know they wouldnt get me a going-away present. They wouldnt even take me out.
Yeah, now that I think of it, what do you want for Christmas? Im stumped.
Hi. got a hold of Max. Will see him tomorrow night. I dont even know if Im going to see you tomorrow or not. Maybe it wouldnt be a good idea, I mean, its a long drive for you for a short amount of time. I worry about accident-prone boy driving around so much, I shouldnt want to make you drive the distance for such a short time, right? I do want to see you, though.
I just saved Jared a lot of money - a 12 page catalog someone else just did for them - 10,000 copies cost them $7,000. 17,000 copies of my 12 pg. catalog will cost them $6,100 - thats almost half the price of the other ones - and it will probably end up looking better, too. He better like me.
I just compressed a bunch of their old programs and stuff they had on disks before I got here and I saved them a ton of computer space. I think its a blessing that they have me around, actually.
Im dressed in orange and black today. wow, she got festive. Happy Halloween.
So Im going out to a local bar (and Im not frightened? Should I pack heat?) after work here for this womans last day. I want a beer. Then Im going out with Susan to a party that her friends from work are holding. Shes going to the party as an expressway, wearing black and putting little matchbox cars all over her with the hood up or overturned. Creative. All I could think of that would be easy and not very costume-like would be to wear all black and a beret and go as the rhythm method of birth control. Just an idea.
11-16-82 9:17 a.m.
Hi. Im back at work. Things are sometimes difficult to understand. I read a letter from Bob today (oh, youve met Bob a few times, hes just a buddy from college). It was addressed to another person, but it was all about the things he has been going through for the past few years. He was so panicked in his letter that it makes me wonder if sometimes I am losing it. Sometimes I wonder if my mood swings verge on panic attacks. I dont think so, because usually my mood swings are caused by something; I can understand why Im feeling the way I do at any given time, even if the mood is extreme.
There are times when I want to take positive steps toward making me feel better, I want to take charge of my life again. And sometimes I feel as if there is nothing I can do, and my mood becomes more and more depressed and I feel like its never going to end. If Im successful, my vacation time with you is a departure from my depression. I just wish I could be happy here.
Which means I have to try. I think Im going to start today, when I get home from work. Ill just have to avoid Catherine at all costs and do positive things for myself. Exercise. Read. Im halfway through “The Power of Positive Thinking”; I should keep reading it. Listen to my meditation tapes. Burn some incense. Maybe I should burn a candle every once in a while.
I think Im missing something, though. Something more mental, something that faces the problems I have more. All of these things I mentioned are stress relief methods, and reading may be construed as positive for helping me mentally and helping me get along with other people. But I need to keep thinking about how to get rid of the problems I have instead of learning how to cope with them. Some of them I shouldnt have to cope with. Feelings about Catherine, or feelings about my sister or my father. I need to get them out more, to study them more, to understand them more and maybe to then Id be able to put them to rest. I dont know how to approach doing that, though.
I cant afford a therapist. Its that simple.
Maybe I should devote a certain amount of time every day to writing about things, things about my childhood, things about my family or whatever. It would get very personal.
Maybe Ill write mine to you, if you want to listen. Or read. Or whatever. Maybe Ill write an hour a day. Or a half hour. And Ill have to write for at least that long. Maybe Ill start now.
I remember sitting in the basement when I was little. I was really little, because mom was still around at this point. I stayed in there all the time, especially when dad was expected home, or home, you know. Mom always had a manhattan ready for him for when he got home. Shed put the glasses in the freezer so they were cold and the edges were frosted.
I remember him always being a beast when he got home. Didnt talk much. You had to make sure you didnt bother him when he first got home.
A lot of times I remember sitting in the basement crying, wishing it was Thursday, when dad didnt come home from work. Thursdays were his night out with the guys, and I was in bed by the time he got home. I never had to see him on a Thursday.
Friday mornings werent so easy to handle, thats when you tried not to get in his way, but usually he was sleeping in and I didnt have to see him anyway.
Actually, I dont think I saw him that much when I was little.
I just read the paragraph about sitting in the basement crying and I remembered that Id think about dying then, too. Killing myself. Id think of different ways to do it, getting a big knife, or taking pills. But I knew I wouldnt like the pain, and the thought of dying scared me, too. Whats after it? Nothing? Can I really think of ending my existence forever? Id probably screw up anyway and then be in pain and have to try to explain myself to my parents. I didnt want to have to go through any of those things.
This is what I thought about when I was really little.
I knew Id never really try to kill myself, I was too chicken. Maybe I wanted to scare them. Maybe I wanted them to realize how much they were hurting me. Maybe It would make them feel guilty, look, we didnt pay any attention to her, and look what weve caused. If only we showed her we loved her, if only we paid her some attention, if only we made her feel like she was a worthwhile person...
Thats the one that always gets to me. They never made me feel like I was a worthwhile person.
Mom was never an affectionate type, she barely ever talked with me, she was just a mediator between everyone in the family, she just tried to smooth things over all the time. Usually didnt work, although I probably would have been killed by dad if she wasnt there. Or just abandoned.
Dad was never involved with any of my life. Only if I needed to be punished for something, If I did something wrong, dad had to know about it, and dad had to do something about it. She might have told him the good things I did, but if she did, I dont think he remembered too many of them.
And then she left. I think all of the mediating got to her. One morning breakfast wasnt ready, and by evening we found out she went to visit her sister. And so my sister took over the role of mother. And with that brought a whole new set of problems.
I remember how bad I felt when I got caught stealing. I was little. I didnt feel bad about what I was doing, I figured the stores wouldnt even miss these little things, besides, why shouldnt I have them? If I could get them, more power to me, I suppose. It was when I got caught that I felt so bad, I knew I was in trouble, I had no idea what they were going to do to me, but I knew they were going to tell my dad. And I thought I was going to have this criminal record for the rest of my life. I was so afraid of what they might do to me. I didnt want to see dads reaction. I was 12, I think. a stupid 12 year old stealing small things for Christmas presents. Where was I supposed to get the money to buy everyone Christmas presents? Why was I made to feel like I was supposed to but everyone Christmas presents? Everyone else was older, and working, I was young, and I had no way of getting any money. Too young to baby-sit or work, and they didnt give me an allowance for cleaning or something. So my sister made me feel like I had to buy Christmas presents for everyone and I had no money. They all bought me things, things they could afford when they had an income.
Oh, I just cried and cried when I got home after stealing the stuff. I was so ashamed, I didnt want anyone at school to know what I had done, I figured that every time my dad looked at me he was thinking I was a thief and that I failed him. I was a failure. Dad had to leave from playing cards at a local bar. I wonder if they knew, the people he was playing cards with, what was going on, but I didnt even think about it. My dad must have been mortified. I kept apologizing, I kept crying the whole night. They drove me home, and everyone just told me to sit in my room and try to relax. I just needed to be by myself. I was up there crying, I think they came in every once in a while. I dont remember what they said to me.
I think everyone realized that my own fear and pain were punishment enough.
I do remember a couple of days later I was walking up the stairs in the front hallway, and I almost bumped into dad by the door. He stopped, he kind of grabbed my face and said he was so disappointed in me. How could I do this to him?, he asked me, and he was crying. Then he just walked away.
Failure. I couldnt do anything right. Nothing I did made anything better between us. He always had reason to hate me, to make me feel like I was worthless. Christ, I was just a kid.
I always liked to play in small cramped places. I liked playing in the basement, because at the time part of it was closed off with a bookshelf and it made the corner like a little room at the far end that was hard to see into from the door. It was my private space. Id decorate it like it was my own home, and I always had private things, secret compartments and codes so no one could get to my stuff. I was very secretive. I even liked to play in my closet, because there was a shelf in the back of my closet used for storage I could sit in if it was empty. It was like my own private room, in my closet. I decorated the walls, put pillows in there for comfort. I always kind of hoped they didnt know I played in there, that they didnt know it even existed, that they could come looking for me and they wouldnt know where I was.
I think Im going to take a break from this for a while. Its been over an hour, and Im starting to run dry. Ill write again. Thank you.
11-16-82 3:47 p.m.
Hi. Ive had a relatively positive and productive day. Thats strange, because writing about when I stole stuff almost made me cry this morning. Ive been dwelling on how aggravating it is living with Catherine, at a job Im not too fond of, so having a happier day seems a little strange.
I leave here in less than an hour, and then I see my dad. He might take us out to dinner. If only I can stand the company.
I feel like I should continue on like I did this morning. That seemed to make me feel a little better, even though it made me think about things I didnt like. I had stuff to do today, which may be what made me feel better today. Maybe I shouldnt spoil this mood. Ah, well, itll be spoiled soon enough when I go home and have to deal with Catherine and then with seeing my dad, so I might as well dive into my childhood again.
My childhood friend Nancy was over all the time. We always played Barbies or house or something, and I was never over there, although I wanted to get away from my family. She had a way of convincing me it was best for her to come over. But that put me in control of the friendship, in a way, because they were my toys, it was my house, she was only a guest (even though she almost lived here). I think I used that advantage to exert some sort of power over her, to make myself feel superior to her at times. I was smarter than her, even though I was a year younger than her. I wonder if I treated her second-hand. Its hard for me to tell, because I wasnt objective. Besides, it was so long ago. But if I was, I might have been because I wanted to feel strong, that I had power over something. It was hard to feel as if I had any power over anything in my house when I was little. Intelligence was all I had, I guess. But then again, in my house everyone was older than me and smarter than me anyway, my parents had been through all of this child-rearing stuff, this was just another kid, nothing new.
Actually, it was a little worse than that. I wasnt just another kid, I was the last kid, which meant that as soon as they were able to get rid of me they could start living their life. I dont think they wanted to make me feel unloved, but thats exactly what they made me feel. Tired. They were tired of raising children, so they just wanted to kind of dump me off on someone. Is it their fault that they were tired? I guess not... Was it their fault they wanted to live their life? I guess not... Should they have aborted me? I dont think so, well, at least not for my sake... But when Im at the receiving end of all this hidden hostility I want something or someone to blame other than circumstance. You cant yell at circumstance, or punch it in the face, or wish it dead.
When I was little mom and dad would go on vacation and I would be left with these house sitters. Mary was the womans name, I think John was the guy, oh, I could be way off, I dont remember that much when I was that little. I dont even remember how old I could have been. But they would house sit for as long as two weeks, I think, watch me, the house, while mom and dad went on vacation. I dont know where my sister was.
And Grandma would stay when my sister was a little older and they just needed someone to watch me.
My parents would have people over, cocktail parties, I suppose, couples would be over, and they really didnt want me around then. Who would want a little kid around while the’re entertaining guests anyway? Whenever I was in front of guests I would be very respectful and polite, and they would think I was a perfect kid. My parents would either agree (the only times I got compliments or even acknowledgments from them) or make a joke, like “Oh, shes a terror. Next time she leaves the house were changing the locks on the doors.” They were charming all right.
Sure, it was a joke, but thats the only kind of stuff I got from them, and after a while, even comments like that will hurt. A lot.
When I went to school, I acted the way I did at home. I wanted to learn, I was intelligent, and I respected my teachers. Which made all the other kids hate me, of course, and that didnt make things any easier. Ellens friends didnt like me because I was a geek who was 2 years younger than them. They treated me like shit. The kids at the bus stop would push me around every day - I mean literally push me around, the’d throw rocks at me, the’d shove me until I fell and had cuts and scrapes. And I was always told not to fight back, the’ll keep fighting if you fight them back, just ignore them. Its hard to ignore them when youre picking yourself up off the ground and the’re pushing you back down again. And then Id go home crying, cut, bleeding, and my mother would do nothing. I dont even think my father ever even knew about any of it. My sister was the only one that got mad, and every once in a while shed call the parents of the person that did it and make them apologize, or walk with me to the bus stop if she could. How fucking humiliating. And I always hated the fact that my mom didnt even seem angry, or concerned. Hey, mom, someone is beating up your daughter for no good reason. Arent you mad? Dont you feel anything? Dont you feel anything for me?
Why didnt I ever fight them? I wish I did. There were so many things I could have done without even laying a hand on them that could have gotten them back. But I never did anything. I was told never to talk back, never to hurt people. I never talked back to my family, If I did I would have gotten hit, or screamed at, and nothing would have been better, and it all would have been worse. I was too afraid to do something to those other kids, I didnt know what it would be like, I didnt know what would have happened if I did.
If my family was civil to me, it would be through making fun of me. It was their way of being loving, I suppose, but when you never feel any love, being made fun of is pretty damn degrading.
Adultism is what they call it, treating children like the’re shit because the’re not as old as you and they dont have your experiences and the’re not as knowledgeable. Thats why I try to treat children more like adult, and I dont use child voices with them and I dont give them ultimatums and I dont threaten them and I dont cut down their ideas. I listen to them, even if their ideas are obnoxious, hell, at least the’re original ideas, I mean, they are THEIR ideas. Making a fort in my closet as a stupid thing, but if anyone in the world respected it they instantly earned my respect. It helps when people dont treat you like an idiot.
When children ask me questions, and I do my best to answer them. They deserve that.
Well, its getting close to time for me to go. Im sure Ill continue this soon. This is so emotional for me. Its strange to think of all these things, to make myself think about them in detail. I usually try not to think about them. My stomach feels tense. Ill write soon-
11-16-82 9:40 p.m.
Hi. Here I am, this time at the computer at home. It makes a lot less noise than the keyboard at work. A quality computer, I have. I think this writing about my past is starting to prove to be very interesting. I didnt even think I really had any resentment toward my mother, but some seemed to come out in one of the writings.
Not surprising, I guess, considering the fact that she left us.
Saw dad today. Took me and my sister out to dinner. He bitched to m about things that were out of my control. Not surprising.
Nothing is good enough for my father.
I remember when I was inducted into National Honors Society in high school. There was going to be a huge ceremony, lighting candles, the whole deal. My dad was out and said he couldnt go. I drove the wagon to school by myself.
I just wanted someone in my house to give a crap about what I did. I didnt want to push them to go, because that wasnt proper for me to do. But going to things like that alone made me feel horrid. Like no one noticed I was doing anything good. I didnt even have to be there. It wouldnt have made a difference.
Well, the ceremony was going on, and I walked off the stage with my candle and I had to go to the back of the gym, through the audience, to make a ring of people around the gym, it was part of the ceremony. And Im walking down the aisle, and in the back is my dad, he came in the middle of the ceremony. Then he left before it was over. It was nice, I suppose, because dad was there, even though he never went to any functions of mine, it it was also strange, like it was forced. It wasnt right that he was there. I didnt know what to say to him.
As if I ever know what to say to him.
I was in the plays my senior year. It was pretty mandatory that my family go to opening night. They went, and afterward all I heard was dad complain that it was too quiet, that he couldnt hear. Get a hearing aid, you stupid man. Sorry, but why is he trying to bring me down by complaining about it to me right after the performance? Thats when you feel the best, you probably want to cry with joy, and hes telling me he couldnt hear, and he wasnt even in the back of the auditorium.
I dont know. Its just that after a while they made the appointments that they were supposed to make as family, but it still wasnt good. They were at graduation, but it was nicer to see Nancy there, or my boss at the Plush Horse, who came to see me and a co-worker graduate.
I went to a retreat weekend once, and Sunday there was a family day. We got back to the school after being away for the weekend talking about things, and our parents were supposed to be there so that we could talk to them about what we discussed. The whole point of this retreat became “how to make it better for kids to grow up, and how to like your parents, and how to like yourself...” It was a really positive experience. I liked it a lot. But mom and dad werent there, of course, so I was adopted by a friends parents for the day. They liked the program so much that they helped run it the next year. My parents knew nothing about it.
It was that weekend, my junior year in high school, that I finally said something about my family, the first time ever. Wed have a lecture about a topic, and then wed have a small group of about 10 people that would discuss our reactions to it, our feelings. Whenever wed get on something about our parents, Id clam up. Finally one of the guys who was running our small group made me talk. I dont know what he said, but when I started talking, I lost it. I was crying and crying, and trying to spit out stuff about my family, and everyone there was very supportive. Lots of hugs. It was over all a good thing. People asked me to read poetry, and sing, and people were complimenting me on my talents, and people were telling me I was a good person. It was such a high. I never thought I could feel so good about myself, I never thought I could have such good friends.
Well, yeah, I lost those friends. And for the most part I lost those feelings. But it was nice to have those feelings, even if they were just for a little while. I went back after this weekend of revelations and no one from my family was even there. It was like everything was instantly the same, even though this whole weekend stressed change.
I guess I was depressed before I went to on that weekend, but after the weekend I knew why I was depressed. And that didnt make anything better.
Ill talk about more tomorrow. Thanks for listening.
I hate being the baby. Im always the one who is considered last, I am always the one whos opinions are discounted. I am always the one who suffers on behalf of everyone else. The last time I checked I as an adult. Im tired of it.
I was always the last for everything. Dad used to visit my brother at college, the way that normal parents visit their children, spend time with them. If my parents came to help me move I was surprised. They didnt do that for a year. They didnt even see my last apartment until I was moving out, and they never even saw my first apartment. Wait. Dad never saw where I lived period. It was too much of a hassle for him to drive to see me.
Damnit, I hate this family, I just want to get away from it so much.
Half of it already left me, and I still feel this way.
Every year I visit them for Christmas. And every time I have gone there until about two years ago dad would get so mad at me that things were miserable. I was 17 and he grounded me for the length of my visit. Things are just miserable when Im there.
And my sister has always been the agitator.
When I was little, I used to look up to her. She was all I had, mom and dad never wanted to spend any time with me. She became my mother. When I was arguing with Connie, my girlfriend, she would be the one who came in and tried to settle things. Granted, it was only because mom didnt want to deal with me, but at least someone was there.
But shed always find so much fault with me. Am I really that bad? Shed always tell me to do things. Was she my mother? Put your socks away. Help around the house. We shouldnt have to tell you to do things, you should know what should be done and just do them. And when I did something wrong, Id get hell for it.
It would go like this: She would get mad at me because she found a pair of socks in the front room. Shed ignore me all day, and during the day I wouldnt have the courage to confront her about it. By night I knew that if I didnt resolve this that day it would just be ten times worse by the next day. So as I finished getting ready for bed, I knocked on her door. She would be laying or sitting in her bed, wide awake, just waiting for me to come in and apologize. And Id cry and cry because I had to stand there in the dark for two or three hours while she told me about how wrong I was and what a bad person I was and how I should learn to be better. And Id have to apologize, and I never wanted to, and I never meant it, but I had to do it to shut her up and I had to make it sound convincing or shed go into an argument about how I had to make my apology sound genuine. And shed still be going on even after I apologized, after I promised Id be better, that I wouldnt do anything like that again.
I hate her for doing that to me. Shes such a fucking bitch. I hate her for the way she made me feel. She did this to me almost two times a week. For I dont know how many years. Id be standing there in her room in total darkness, Id be wavering as I was standing because I was so tired. Itd be one-thirty in the morning, Id be sniffing every 5 seconds because I had been crying for the past three hours, and I didnt learn anything. I dont even think there was anything to learn. Looking back, all the things she argued about with me were silly, stupid little things, and she degraded me so much by doing that to me all the time. Talk about making a person feel worthless. Do that to a person from when the’re 5 to when the’re 17, and the’re going to be messed up.
And I hate her for it, because even if they were valid points she made, she has no right to cut my life because she has no life of her own. Shes unemployed, friendless, boyfriendless, she still lives at home, shes fat, bitchy and anal retentive.How can a person take advice from that? How can a person listen to that yell at you?
She still does it, every day, while I visit. She tries to make me feel bad for everything I do. When Im there shes making me feel like I always have to hide.
When I was 17, it was the summer before I left for college, I was driving mom and my sister home from a restaurant once because they had too many margaritas. So Im driving toward the driveway and were approaching the garbage cans. They were empty; garbage was picked up that morning. I noticed that they had to be picked up (normally, my sister would yell at me because I didnt notice that they had to be put away). So I saw them, and since we were at the end of the driveway, I thought that this would be the best time to get the garbage cans. Since I was driving, I said something to the effect of, “Should we pick up the garbage cans since were at the end of the driveway?” And my sister thought it was extremely rude that I assumed someone else should pick them up (well, I was driving, it was kind of pointless for me to get out and do it, unless someone wanted to drive the rest of the driveway, and in that case it would have been easier to just walk from the stupid house and get the garbage cans anyway). So she stormed out of the car, because mom shouldnt have to do it, of course, and she got into the house and she stormed upstairs. She wanted to watch a movie that evening but wouldnt even come downstairs because she was so mad at me. I told mom what she was doing, probably the first time I ever told mom that she did this kind of stuff to me. Mom said to just let her sulk, not to go up there to talk to her. So... I didnt. And for 3 or 4 days my sister ignored me. It was almost nice, I didnt have to deal with her. Then one night I wake up in the middle of the night, sensing that someone was in my room. I put my hand on my pillow to get up, and theres a paper on my pillow. I turn on the light, and my sister had left a note for me. It said something like, “Fine - if you dont want to be my sister, fine - Ill never do anything nice for you, Ill never buy you presents, Ill never talk to you again. Dont ever ask for everything from me!!!”
At this point I just thought all of this was so stupid, so I went over and told her - rationally - that she was being childish and stupid. Its insane to make such a big deal about bringing in garbage cans. And she tried to argue with me, and she cried and cried and cried, and she said she might as well kill herself, and shes always wrong (that one was said sarcastically, of course), and I just kept saying, youre being childish, and no one can have a rational conversation with you when youre saying such childish things. It was 5 in the morning and I was winning. It was the first time I ever did anything like that.
After that, from then until now, shes been different. Much more pathetic. She still argues with me, she still complains to me, but now she couples it all with, “youre my best friend, I want to be friends with you,” and shes sobbing and sobbing, and shes acting like a fucking idiot. I suppose I should pity her, but she brings everything upon herself. She doesnt have a job - not because the market is so tough (It is, but not that tough), but because after all these years shes still unwilling to move out of her parents house and look for a job outside of a ten mile radius of her little safe suburb. She doesnt try anything new. She got a part-time job at the local department store one year because a friend of hers filled out an application. My sister was so mad when her friend backed out of working. She couldnt even take a jewelry making class this year unless she made someone else take it with her. She wont drive downtown to visit her few friends (I personally think they just put up with her because they pity her, because they all have lives and new friends of their own, and she is just this remnant friend who has failed in life) because she doesnt know where to park and someone is bound to hit her car and she could get lost, and worse yet, she could drive into a bad neighborhood, she could get killed if she took the wrong turn, you know, or someone could mug her, or steal her car. And even if she did get there and she did have fun shed have to drive home, and thats such a long drive that shed lose sleep and feel miserable the next day.
She spends her time obsessing over her nails, spending insane amounts of money on jewelry. She makes jewelry, but now shes got stacks of jewelry she wants to sell but never will. And shes got yards of fabric for dresses and shirts and all sorts of clothing, but she never has the time to make anything because shes so busy. Busy? Shes got nothing to do, how can she be busy?
My sister called me and wanted to have a talk with me last night. Its so incredibly difficult to tell someone you dont respect that you dont respect them. She says she loves me. And things would be extremely difficult with my family if I told her the truth. Probably more difficult than if I just lived with it and lied to her all the time. Its better when I dont have to pussy-foot around her because shes decided that shes ignoring me again.
I was telling Susan about all this last night, the way my sister has been acting around me lately, and Susan was just amazed. She said it was probably the most unhealthy sibling relationship she had ever heard of, and that I should get away from her as soon as I could. What am I supposed to do? My sister is unhealthy, but its going to make me unhealthy, too, unless it already has, in which case it will make me more unhealthy. I dont want that, but she doesnt change, even though she says she tries to, and its taking its toll on me. What am I supposed to do? Tell her to get a job? Some friends? A boyfriend? Her own place? A life? Tell her to leave me alone? I dont know if I want to deliver that blow.
And what makes things harder when it comes to this family is that despite all of her shortcomings (and there are plenty), everyone still treats her with more respect than they treat me. Mom and dad do it, and the’re the ones that are letting her be dependent on their income. They give her the opportunity to live there for a decade, no questions asked, and they let her waste her life that way. I think Im more developed as an adult, than she is, and I think thats partially because mom and dad coddle her. Granted, coddling, might not be good, but why didnt they coddle me? Why did they give me the cold shoulder?
I remember my father always drinking. No one else in the family seems to think he is an alcoholic, but I do. He drank so much. Beers at lunch (or martinis), beers during the afternoon while playing cards with the boys, two martinis when he got home, wine with dinner, after dinner drinks (some heavy liqueur-type stuff) until he was ready for bed, then a shot of night-time cough medicine as he passed through the kitchen. Cough medicine. God it was so pathetic. Granted, the drinking has slowed down ever since he had the heart attack, but he still drinks a lot.
And the frightening thing is that I think I carry some of his traits - alcoholism being one of them. It always cuts me to the quick when someone sees me drinking and says jokingly that Im an alcoholic. Its what Im used to.
I find myself having a drink a day if its there, then going out on the weekends to drink more. Or even on a weeknight. I find myself coming home from work wanting to have a beer, and if we dont have beer, fine, Ill make myself a mixed drink. Last weekend I went away for the weekend to visit friends, and while I was waiting for them I drank whiskey mixed with orange juice. I never do that. It was just that I wanted to get drunk.
Im not drinking in the house any more. Ive decided that. If I go out with people, Ill drink if I want to, but I dont want to drink alone, the way I have been. I wonder how long this feeling will last, though.
Ive been getting along with dad a lot better lately - its my sister thats been driving my nuts. Hes mellowed out in his old age, and only occasionally does he revert to his old ways around me. Hes not around me that often, which is a big help.
When I was in high school I didnt date much. I was a part of a group called Feedback; it was a school group that met once a week at a different persons house. We talked about teen stuff, troubles in life, almost like a therapy group. Alan was involved in it, and one night I was in a particularly good mood and was talking to everyone (the way I normally would now), even to the seniors, even though they were a year older than me. And I went over and talked to Alan, sat down next to him for a minute.
Then he offered to give me a ride home, I didnt have one, I never did, my parents never let me use the car. Thats another thing. Id ask to go out on a Saturday night, and the’d say I couldnt have the car and I had to be home by 11:00 when I was 17. That was unless I worked Friday, then the’d say I was already out one night this weekend and I couldnt go out. They didnt trust me at all.
Thats probably why I joined so many activities, that was the only way I could spend time with my peers.
But back to Alan. He offered me a ride home, he lived only a mile away, so I accepted. He got to my driveway and tried to kiss me. I was shocked - I didnt have the idea of him being more than a friend in my head. And I told him that, and he agreed to it, and we both felt sorry, and within a week we were considered dating each other. We went out four months, then he broke up with me because he was going to college (it didnt bother me, though - I thought it wasnt working out anyway).
I found out that right after we broke up he started dating a classmate, Vicki. She was fat, and ugly. She considered herself such a sexual creature, and I thought she was really gross. And Alan started dating her. What was wrong with me that hed want to go out with her? I came up with a good (and probably accurate) guess - she blew him. Pardon that. But our relationship wasnt sexual, it was romantic. Like puppy love, but it wasnt love.
So he went away to school, and hed always come back to visit, and he broke up with Vicki quickly, and hed always want to take me out to dinner, and he was glad we were friends, and hed talk to me about how all the other guys made fun of him because he was from a suburb. And they were all ass-holes.
But over that year I saw a slight change in him. He was hardening.
And he wanted to be more than friends with me, and I didnt want that, but I couldnt hurt his feelings, so... by the time he got back from his freshman year we started dating again. But this time it was different, he was a bit of an ass-hole himself, which meant he was cooler, I suppose, and he was always trying to make a move on me. Hed do things to me I wasnt ready for, and I didnt know how to politely say that I didnt want to do anything. I kept dropping what I thought were subtle hints over time that I didnt want to sleep with him, I wasnt ready for that. But his hints that he wanted it were probably stronger than mine.
The first night I moved into my dorm with my new roommate he came over, and the two of them had liquor. Loretta had grape schnapps, thats all I remember. And we were drinking out of plastic cups, and I remember that he kept refilling our glasses. But he was refilling hers faster. I even thought about that that night - why is he pushing drinks on my roommate? I could see him wanting to get me drunk, but why her? I know hes not attracted to her.
I dont know when we decided we had to go to sleep. I dont remember much from the evening. I think we might have gotten the cue from my roommate passing out in her own bed. Im not sure. I had no idea what was going on. I figured he wanted to stay over, that wed mess around or something. I hadnt thought about it.
One of my guy friends as a joke gave me a condom as a going away to college gift. He thought it was funny. He was trying to be cute. I told him Id keep it, and I knew I wasnt planning on using it.
I think Alan knew I had it.
I think I even told him that night that I had it. I was just laying there when he got the God-damned thing. God, I wish I knew what was going through my head. I know I wasnt thinking clearly; I just wish I was. I didnt fight. I was too drunk. I didnt know if I should be fighting, or why I should be fighting. I knew I didnt want it, but I had no idea of what to say. I almost felt like I was resigned to it.
I remembering him telling me to relax; it was hurting me. I was so tense that he was hurting me, and he was telling me to calm down, to relax. I remember him trying to push my legs apart with his. I didnt want them to be apart, I resisted, but it just seemed like there was nothing I could do. I was still dadd’s little girl, I couldnt tell anyone I didnt like something or that I was right and they were wrong. I couldnt raise my voice, I couldnt even think of what I would have said if I could get up the courage to argue. This was how it was supposed to be, wasnt it?
Now I know why he was pushing liquor on both of us, but my roommate more. He wanted to make sure she passed out drunk, so she wouldnt hear anything. She didnt hear a thing. And I never told her.
I didnt even find him attractive. I thought he was a geek. I went out with him because he paid attention to me, and he was there when no one else was. I turned to him as a friend countless times. His family treated me like a daughter. He was smart, was going to be making money one day. I was going to be an engineer, like him. Wed be set. I thought this would be the man I was going to marry, I was resigned to this, even though I didnt love him.
That night messed me up. I didnt know why I resented him, but I did, and minute by minute I could stand being with him less and less. He was happier than ever when it happened, but I started “needing space”, thats what I told him, I wanted to meet new people, I just got here, give me some room. And I started wanting more and more room.
I dont want to write about this any more.
I hate myself for not stopping him. I might not have wanted to do anything because thats the way I was taught to be all of my life, but they never prepared me for this, they never prepared me for anything, but I still wished I did something. Why did I let this happen? Ive worked on rape hotlines because of this, I know it isnt my fault, but I think I will always look for something or someone to blame. Yes, I blame him. But theres also a part of me that blames my family for making me feel so inadequate that I felt I had to stay with him because I would never find better. My family made me feel as if I couldnt fight back. I could have fought back. They never wanted me to fight back, the best thing to do was ignore it, right?
They might be right anyway. Who am I to judge?
My father said that if he or one of his siblings came home and said a teacher hit them, his father wouldnt get angry at the teacher for hitting him, his father would hit the kid and ask, “What did you do wrong?” He must have done something in order to get hit.
What did I do wrong?
God, I wish I could go back in time and change all the things I did wrong. Are they all my fault? If my actions are based on the way my parents did or didnt raise me, then I wish I could go back and change the way they raised me. How can you change bad things that happened to you? How can you go back and change the past?
I didnt tell anyone what happened to me for a while. I didnt even know what happened to me, I didnt know why I was feeling so depressed. Thats when I changed my major, thats when I changed my hair color, thats when a got a whole new set of friends. Alan still wanted to be friends with me, and I couldnt think of a reason why I shouldnt be friends with him, except that I didnt want to, but that didnt matter, because it was just me. Occasionally wed have lunch in the cafeteria, but after a while I didnt want to spend any time with him, I didnt want to see his face. And I told him so. I was dating someone else by then, and I gained enough confidence to be able to say to him I didnt want to see him. I told him to get out of the past and not talk to me any more. Hed call on the weekends in the middle of the night, high or drunk, telling me he loved me. I hated it. Id see him on campus and hed try to talk to me. I remember one time I was yelling at him on campus, screaming during passing time when everyone is out on campus, yelling at him to leave me alone, not to talk to me anymore, to give me some peace. I dont even know if I knew why I was yelling at him.
Josh was a beacon to me during that time. He was a good person, a genuinely good person, and I knew he wouldnt hurt me the way Alan did. He just wouldnt. But he also chose religion over me, and once again, I lose out.
It was by March of the next year (a little over 6 months) before I told someone what happened to me. I told Colin, my friend from high school, and I sat there and cried for two hours. After that I told Richard. I didnt tell anyone else for a while.
I remember that in the end of March I got a card and a mix tape in the mail from him. The card was for our anniversary of when he first tried to kiss me in the car after the feedback meeting, in my junior year of high school. He remembered, sent me a card, and made me a mix tape of all the songs that “meant” something to us during the course of our “relationship.” There were dates on all the songs, dates for when we heard them together, concerts we went to, things like that.
That disgusted me so much. I threw out the card. And I sent the tape back to him. It was scary giving the envelope back to the mail carrier, knowing then it would get back to him, because I was fighting back. That scared me. But I had to. I didnt want him thinking it was okay to send me things. To talk to me.
As soon as he got the tape back he called me. I had to tell him to stop living in the past, to get over it, to leave me alone. I think he was making me cry. Forget I existed. Go away. Let me be.
I wish I could stop living in the past.
The next year he went to Germany for the year to study. I think a big part of the reason he left was because of me. Could re really have liked me? Was I hurting him? Ive never told him he raped me. Ive never just said it. Maybe he doesnt know. Did he mean to hurt me? Did he even know what he did to me? How it affected me?
I remember him writing in a letter to me once that he was going out with this girl he really liked, she was about my height, the hair was the same, hey, even once when he saw her at the right angle she looked just like me. Well, they werent really going out yet, he just kind of liked her, but maybe they could go out.
I had to avoid him. This was unhealthy. I didnt know what else to do. When he came back I did everything I could to just avoid him. Hes in Germany again, this time for good, I think. I still feel like he lives a mile away.
By that next fall (over a year later, when he was in Germany) I was dating other people as well as Josh (our relationship was rapidly falling apart due to religion, him working at a pizza parlor weekends and him being an engineer - he had no time for me), but I could never get close to any of them. Physically. I didnt mean to lead them on, so I told them they werent going to sleep with me, it was that simple. It worked out okay, for the most part, I think I annoyed a few horny men, but oh well. I was going out with a guy named Ben for about 4 months in the fall, and he started noticing signs that it was more than a personal preference. Once we were watching a movie where a woman got raped and I had to go to the bathroom to cry. He made me talk after that.
Ben was a typical guy, a dick, so to speak, the type of guy that would just stop calling one day because he was bored with you. Not very romantic. But he was fun to go out with. I didnt expect him to be responsive when I told him about last year. It was amazing how nice he was, he said I should go to group therapy, that hed go with me if I wanted him to (that wouldnt make him feel too awkward, would it?). It was very nice of him, but I was sure I didnt need to see someone professionally, I mean, if I cant handle stress... I rejected the idea of seeing someone.
January, right before classes started second semester, I saw an ad in the paper that said you could take a class for credit that would train you to be an acquaintance rape hotline operator. I thought this would be my own sort of therapy, and it would be constructive as well (and I got credit for it).
In that class we went over so many things that Im not sure if I was ready for. Pornography, incest, basically the entire history of hatred toward women in a single semester. By the end we talked about how all of this, all of the conditioning of society, manifests itself in rape, especially acquaintance rape. It happens so often.
Id come home from this class every Tuesday and Thursday at 5:30 and would rush to the cafeteria to meet my friends. You could always tell it was a Tuesday or Thursday, because I was either grouchy and silent or argumentative, starting a discussion group about sexism. I started doing more in my spare time about it. I ran a pornography workshop. I ran rape workshops for the sororities. I did more and more art work about it, trying to get that exposed. I did advertising for counseling groups.
And I thought I was getting better. I was behaving more and more like a normal person, even though I was a bit strong-willed. A bit of a feminist. I thought I took my cause to a more acceptable level than a lot of other violent feminists do. I thought I could make a difference.
Well, I dont know if I thought I could make a difference, but I knew that I had to try, that if I didnt Id explode, or die.
And then I look at what Ive done. Sure, Ive done a lot. But have a really made a difference? Probably not. And then I start to feel like a failure again, I start to feel like people find me worthless again. I start to feel like a child again. I start to feel looked down upon, degraded even, like a child, like a little girl. Like someone who is mentally abused by their parents, physically abused by their boyfriend.
Thats why I act so dominant in a relationship now, I think - I dont want to be looked down upon again. Nothing is ever good enough for me. I have to be strong, I have to be stronger. I never want to tell my problems to the person Im dating because I dont want them to think less of me, I dont want them to view me like Im a beaten child. I want to have a healthy relationship, and I guess I think that if I cover up what could potentially make the relationship unhealthy, then theres a better chance of the unhealthy stuff not happening. If I act like a normal person, Ill have normal, healthy interactions, which will make me more of a healthy person. It sounds like it would make sense.
But its still there, buried, in the back of my head, and every once in a while it comes out and theres nothing I can do about it. Anything small can set it off. And then Im crying, and I cant even explain why.
I guess my determination in my work stems from the fact that I want to fight, I want to get over all these feeling I have. This is my way of doing it. But I think my depression stems from the fact that Ive been taught all my life that my work isnt important, wont make a difference. That I wont succeed.
Now Ive got a job that pays me under 10,000 once taxes are removed, I live with a roommate I hate, and people like my sister still hang around - people that I cant respect, people like her that have caused me to feel most of the pain Ive felt in my life, who continues to give me pain whenever she speaks to me. How am I supposed to heal now?
I want to get on with my life. I want to get away from this limbo Im feeling. I want to start progressing. I feel like Ive already hit a huge brick wall and theres no way Im going to get around it, over it, through it. Im going to work here forever, live here forever, be miserable forever.
And then I feel so bad when I think of all the suffering other people go through. Jim tells me stories, other people tell me stories... Is everyone out there suffering from some sort of mental or emotional problem? Who am I to complain? Ive got a roof over my head, Im not on lithium, Im not having panic attacks, I havent had my car stolen, my boyfriend doesnt treat me like dirt. But sometimes I feel alone, even if Im not. Sometimes I break out and cry, and I try to stop it, but I cant help it. Yesterday I cried in my office because William hit me on the back of the head. I thought it was rude, sexist and entirely unprofessional. But if I was in a good mood Im sure it wouldnt have bothered me. It was a tap. He meant it as playful. And on the way home yesterday from work I just cried and cried. I didnt care what people in the passing cars were thinking. There was no point in worrying about it. There was too much else to think about.
And I flipped in a restaurant because they messed up my order. Big deal. But I started swearing, raising my voice, then I started crying. Why?
Why anything any more?
I went to a bar tonight with a few friends of mine. Ive been there for a while, I just got home, I had a good time. They know nothing about me. Thats probably a good thing.
I miss you. I want to feel your arms around me.
I was driving tonight and I thought about suicide. I mean as an option. I havent thought about that since high school. Since I lived in my parents house. I thought Id break up with you, try to piss you off so hed hate me and wouldnt be hurt by my killing myself, then try to kill myself when no one was at home. If they found me before I died, at least the’d know how serious I was. The’d know how much they hurt me, how much I hated them.
There are times when I wish I wasnt afraid of death.
There are other times when I wish I wasnt afraid of life.
Tomorrow Im going to have Thanksgiving dinner with my family - everyone except my mother. She is out of town. Every family get-together is always pointless. We eat, maybe watch T.V., the women cook and clean, the kids fidget and leave the table early. Its not as if we bond in any sense of the word when were together, if anything, I get bored or aggravated about something.
Thats even how funerals are. Youd think it was a holiday the way my family acts at a wake. They chat and laugh, talking about current events or whatever. No bonding. No feelings.
I was almost 10 when my grandfather died. I was devastated. Someone died. I talked to them last week, now the’re dead. The last thing my grandfather said to me was “youre the most beautiful girl in the world.” My sister tells me now that he once held my grandmother and my dad at knife-point, threatening to kill them.
And I was at the wake, and everyone was laughing and talking about stuff that had nothing to do with where they were or what had happened. I just wanted to say, “Hey, theres a dead man in the front of the room. And youre related to him. Doesnt that bother you?” But I was 9, and I didnt know anything. My parents wouldnt let me go to the funeral because it was on a Monday and I had to go to school. They wouldnt let me take the day off to go to my grandfathers funeral. I thought they were heartless.
I just want to ask my family: you mean it wasnt obvious? Were you just that uninterested with things in my life, or were you actually afraid to think that someone actually did that to me? That you all did these things to me? Or did you care?
“Maybe if I dont think about it, it wont exist.” Well, that doesnt work, everyone. Its still there, whether or not you try to ignore it. Im a shining example of that. How much longer do you think you can avoid me?
All my life, whenever I dealt with my family, I felt like I could never say anything to them. They made me feel as if they didnt want to hear, they made me feel like I shouldnt talk back, they made me feel as if my opinions didnt matter.
I cant love someone I dont respect. I have to be able to like someone as a person, to admire their achievements. Thats why its so hard to say I love my father. I respect him as a person in some respects, he was a hard worker, he has a flair for getting along with many people... other than his family, which is why its hard for me to say I love him. My sister, I can respect her as far as I can throw her, which isnt far since shes so fat, but hey, Im pretty strong, so that statement might even give her more respect than she deserves. Simply put: I dont respect her, all the problems she has in her life are her fault and no one elses, and I cant love her. I cant even pity her.
My father used to always yell at me because I didnt smile. “Smile, damnit, you have nothing to be sad about.” First of all, I wasnt sad, a straight face means no emotion, not negative emotion. Secondly, do you really think youll make me happy by yelling at me, by forcing me to smile?
I always put up a front whenever hes around. I usually want to hit him, or run away when were in the same room. But I put on a fake smile, act happy. As long as it looks good for other people. As long as his friends dont think he was an unfit father.
I wonder how many affairs he had. It wouldnt surprise me if he had a few. And hes my father. I have some of that in me. And I hate it.
I hate the mood swings, I hate my stubbornness, by bossiness, my temper. All of my bad traits I got from you. I learned from the best.
God, I dont know if I can do any of this.
I dont know whats right for me anymore. sometimes there is just a part of me that wants to get out of here so much, to start my life. I just want it to begin. But I dont know which path to take.
I want my own place. I could decorate it the way I wanted to. I wouldnt have to have anything ugly in it, like lights from chains or silk lavender poinsettias. or a brass elephant statue. or any of Catherines shit. or Catherine, for that matter.
I could go out places without having to drive 40 minutes.
I could see you more.
Im anxious. I need to relax more. Im very impatient. Its just that I want everything to happen for me, and I want it all to happen right away. Yesterday, actually.
I could have my own apartment. I could imagine my place now, with a desk with my computer. Maybe take a spare bedroom and convert it into an office/library room, with a book shelf with all of my books on it. and vases. and the living room would have all of my stereo stuff, and photos of mine all over the walls. and the kitchen would be my kitchen, and the fridge would be mine. Id actually have room in the cabinets for all of my glassware. and food. Ive never had a fridge to myself before. I think id have to live in a place by myself, I just want to have a place with no roommates. I want some space. It would only be messy when I wanted it to be messy. It would look how I wanted it to look. I could live in an old house, in the middle of nowhere, if it meant cheap rent and a lot of space and no roommates. I dont need the best of everything. no cable. no call waiting. a 13” t.v., my stereo, my computer, fine. but I can deal with shitty furniture, an ugly couch, a small desk. I could put a sheet over my couch. I could paint and clean up some garage sale furniture. hey - I could get an unfurnished place for cheaper and just get any kind of furniture from garage sales. I could put a shelf over my desk for my computer monitor. I could make it some place id actually want to be in. Its sounding more and more pleasing to me.
I could have Christmas in my own place. that would be nice.
Im going to ask you to do me a big favor - could you get the Gazette on Sundays and check out the classifieds for me? Jobs as well as apartments. Ill talk to you more about it later.
I just feel so lonely here.
Tomorrow Im going to contact the village hall about getting space for an art show. I think Im going to bypass the local fine arts society, because they drag their feet, and I have no patience. I could probably do plenty of my own flyers. and id be doing all the setting up on my own, even if I was sponsored by them. Id have to pay for drinks and crackers, but then again, id have the whole place to myself, instead of being one of four artists or something. I could have all of my work, my gallery program running on my computer, and later do a reading.
I like to dream, dont I? I get the feeling that I wont ever have any show in town, and I wont go to grad school. I think I just need to dream about these things so that I can keep what little sanity I have left.
Why do I think I can get any of this accomplished?
What can I do? What can I do to make myself feel like Im accomplishing something? What can I do to make myself happy? What other steps do I have to take?
Should I hand-deliver every resume I send, and give them a little speech about how great I am? I dont have time to go to all those places in person.
I cant afford to move to a better place with the pay I make here, and if I quit to move far away, it just means that Ill have no money at all instead of 14,3 a year. Ill be even more in debt. I cant do anything. Im stuck in a hole. Am I supposed to go back to school? Am I supposed to spend my savings on that? Going to grad school is no guarantee that Ill have a decent job when I get out. Hell, college alone used to be a guarantee of a good job. Now look at me.
I was saving all that money for my house. So when I got married, when everything started to happen for me, I wouldnt have to struggle quite as much to make ends meet. Maybe it could mean that my children would have a better chance of going to college. I dont know how Im supposed to save any money for my childrens future with my life going the way it is. I know Im thinking too far ahead into the future, and the next thing youll say is that Im not going to stay at this job for the rest of my life, but at this rate, nothing better is going to come along for me and Ill be stuck doing this fucking job forever. I left engineering because I hated the field and I didnt want to sell myself just to make more money, and what has happened? I went into what I wanted and now Im doing something I hate and making thousands less than I would have been if I stayed in engineering!
Do you know why I left engineering? ive never told this to anyone. Alan. he was in the same major as me. I dont want to be associated with anything that was related to him. he was taking classes in the same building as I was freshman year. I wanted to get away from him. and all the stress of dealing with him made me not care about classes. I was slacking off, and you cant do that in engineering. It just didnt matter to me. I wanted to change myself. I changed my hair, my clothes, my friends - my major.
I couldnt handle engineering. Ive never wanted to admit it. I didnt want to handle it, it didnt want it enough to try for it. I felt like a failure because the schoolwork wasnt coming easily to me, like it always had.
I shouldnt blame him. I should blame myself. I should have been able to do it, and I just let myself down. my life would have been so incredibly different if I stuck with computer science.
Or if he hadnt hurt me.
I think of all the ways it has affected me, and it drives me insane. Do you think I like being emotional? Do you think I like my mood swings? Do you think Im happy with the direction my life has taken? I feel so alone, and I feel like everything has just gone so wrong. Should I blame him? Or is he a cover in my own mind for my father? Or are they both just a cover for me not wanting to blame myself for my own inadequacies?
Its times like this when I feel I cant do anything right.
Why is is that I cant see myself as a success? Why is it that I find myself unattractive, fat, and unsuccessful?
Why is this happening to me?
Okay, maybe what I need is a big move, a move maybe to a warmer part of the country. Start a new life. I could lie on my resume, tell them I was a nuclear physicist at my last job, and boom - id be raking in a shitload of money. Theres my solution.
Im going over to Ellens place tonight, Im supposed to cheer her up. shes going to be cheering my up by the end of the night at this rate. Nancy asked me yesterday if I ever had a day at work where I was just about to cry. well, yes, actually, and Im having one right now.
Lets go to that new bar this weekend. I think I need to go out, even if it does mean that Ill end up spending a lot of money. Or maybe I just need to talk, get drunk, and cry a lot. That might actually be what I need. Think you could do that for me? Get really drunk with me this weekend, and let me just be a drunken fool? Maybe then I could spit out some things that I probably need to, but havent had the heart to spit out.
I just want to figure out why I get like this. What Im supposed to do.
A psychologist would have a field day with me. With the pages I typed for you before and this, hed have a field day. Make that SHED have a field day.
Today I feel so persecuted, and I cant explain why. I feel like everything is out to get me, to sabotage my happiness. Not like Im delirious and having delusions of grandeur, or having some paranoid feeling like people are out to get me, if anything I feel like people dont care. Because they dont. The feeling is more that I have to fight with the very nature of things in order to get something accomplished. Im not just fighting a person, Im fighting the world, Im fighting the way things have always been done, the way Ive always been taught to do things. No one is particularly against me, but no one is receptive to change, and would rather not deal with me because of it. And now I feel like Im failing.
I get tired of fighting. What am I supposed to do then? give up? I dont know how to. I dont know how to change the way I feel. If I gave up, it would be me resigning and then losing all touch with reality. I couldnt do it any other way. I couldnt just become a cog in the wheel, and be happy with it, like all the fucking peons here at work. Id die. I couldnt do it. I could never be happy here.
Is something wrong with me because I cant just be happy working, making money, and there you go, thats life? It doesnt seem right to me. I wish somebody could just show me the steps Im supposed to take. I think Ive proven that Im willing to try.
I want to be with you, I really do. I want to try to make this work. And maybe its just that Im so incredibly impatient, but I dont want to have to wait for you to start your life so we can start ours. I want to start my life now. Maybe I could start to do that if I was at least with you. Being with you all the time would be one way for me to find out if thats what I really want out of our relationship.
Hell, I might find out that its the dumbest thing ive ever contemplated doing. I can find a negative side to everything. But I think Im actually starting to sound a little more cheerful. It cant be.
I dont know what the solutions are anymore, but I dont think I ever did know. And it drives me crazy not knowing. You mean more to me than I want to admit. Youre my best friend, right? So, best friend, tell me what I should do. I cant think clearly anymore.
I feel like ive hit a brick wall. I dont know what the next step is. I think I need a vacation.
I like to plan things. I like to know what is going to happen next. I like to feel secure. I hate not knowing where my life is going. And thats exactly how I feel right now. And how ive felt for months. I can put it out of my mind for a while, but it always comes back.
Who knows what I what to do. I know I want to live out on my own, but who knows how I want to do that. Working, school. I hate this. Ive felt awful all day. My head hurts. I really have hit a wall.
I have to work at my second job tonight. I dont remember what the place looks like.
Im so depressed. I was crying over at Ellens, and I was just bawling on the phone with you. Crying on the way home last night. I dont have the energy to cry anymore. I think ive even lost any motivation I might have once had.
Im hungry. I just finished some pizza today. Pizza and an apple for lunch. Ill have noodles tonight. Exciting. Spinach and tomato noodles. And wheat noodles. And shells and elbows. Dont forget the all-too-exciting tomato paste with mushrooms. Maybe Ill eat some bread with it, too. I might as well try to make it is creative as possible, because its all I get. I hate this diet. Then again, there are a lot of things I hate.
Ive drank almost 100 ounces of water so far today. Ties me over. Gives me something to do while Im here at work. Ive been playing on the computer all day. I created some clip art from ads that were sent to me. gothic letters, pictures of dragons... Its interesting. Has nothing to do with work, but its interesting. As far as interesting goes when Im here, that is.
Hi. I just set up the appointment with the new job prospect downtown. yes, its downtown, and the computer set up they have is about 3 times better than the other place I interviewed at - at least 3 times better. In fact, I was looking at the two three-dimensional programs she has in a catalog today, to see which ones I would want to get.
I have to wait a week for the interview, though, and that wait is going to kill me. Im going to put a ton of stuff together on my computer to show her next week. I want to show her how fluent I am on the computers. Shes going to have me do work on the computer while Im at my interview, too. Test me. Wow. Now instead of being depressed Im going to be manic for the next week, until she turns me down, of course, or until the president hires a buddy for the job.
You know me, I just like to work, and I like to work a lot. I can just sit in front of a computer for hours doing one task and the time will just fly by. This is exactly what I want to do.
And id have access to all the great computer stuff. Its like having all the tools id ever need to do anything I want. Id love it.
Lunch time. I should be social. If there was something here that drove me to do work, believe me, Id do it, but until that day comes, Ill take my time at lunch with the girls. Im sure theres so much more to say, but I think by now you know it all. Ill talk to you soon.
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