Age 26

The first 10 minutes of 1992 flashed some unpleasant thoughts through my mind.

What have I accomplished?

Nothing.

Where is my life going?

Nowhere.

Why do I feel as if I’ve accomplished so much but am getting nowhere in life? Silly question, huh? I still don’t know that I want to live a life of nothing or second best. Should anyone try to pretend and make themselves settle into a life they’re not happy with? If you knew for sure all the things you really want and that matter to you will never come true? If you knew you’d live your life either miserable or in between. Never really happy. Never any kind of life, fun, adventure or excitement. Just a nothing nobody on disability who knew what she wanted but couldn’t have it. Just a girl who’d like a little lust here and there and nothing more as she has self-respect, enjoys her space, can’t tolerate head games, lies and geeks. But all I get are offers from people I’m not attracted to. God just can’t allow me a person who I’m turned on by for one lousy night. A decent person and say, “ok, I’ll send her someone fairly decent that she wouldn’t be good enough for on a regular basis. All she wants is sex and that way that “decent” person won’t have to put up with her and she can have her space without this decent person trying to change her and condemn her.” Yeah, right. But I should be allowed at least some lust rather than be sent all the uglies or so-so people that are keeping me celibate. I need some fun, too.

Boy, am I mad at myself upon reviewing all the dumb things I did during 1991. The phone calls, the phone bills, losing my tapes, moving here and reality slapping me in the face.

Fucking Kim couldn’t have offered to do something with me seeing that Mark’s at work.

I have lost so much both material and non-material-wise.

My New Year’s resolution is a deal with God or whatever the fuck’s up there. I still can’t bring myself to settle happily and willingly. This was gonna be my “settlement” year. Doing all the stuff I don’t want to do and letting go of my dreams and having good sex. Instead, God will either grant me my wishes by sending me an attractive person as well as help me get my foot in the door (appropriately) with my music. Then I’ll work my ass off from there. If none of the above starts happening for me this year, I exit this boring life. As if God’s gonna answer my prayers for once and for all?

I am so pissed off at Kim and my parents never called. Has Tammy given them my new number yet?

Fran called at around 11:20. Some girl showed up at his place and he said he’d call me later or during the week.

I know I’m cursed. I know for sure. Forget about why though as I’ll probably never know why. What do I do to get rid of it? Goddamn, do I hate this life! Being sure in my mind of the things I want and knowing I’ll never achieve things. I’d never know where the fuck to begin. What an ass for believing I’d get connections somehow just cuz I could sing. This idiot thought that two years from now (1994) she’d have her foot in the door. Man, do I feel like a complete jackass!

Can’t I have just a little more than a nice place to live and some decent clothes? Material things are great. It doesn’t replace being a singer and sex, though. I’m only human and I can’t help the way I feel. I have a right to my feelings and if God’s determined to make me settle, he’d better miraculously change those feelings of mine or else I’m gone before 1993. I mean it too, as I have hung on long enough to see that nothing will ever change

Later...

I am listening to the tape that was made earlier with Fran and Nervous. It’s pretty funny.

Fran at the CC and I spoke for a little while.

Again Fran insisted that Nervous lives in a “complex.” Since he has no phone, Fran couldn’t insist the phone company was in his building ready to snatch his phone. Rather than that story, he insisted that Carabetta was buying out his building. I love Nervous’s line to Fran at one part of the tape. He says, “There’s gonna be a dead P.” Also, I was reminding Nervous about his wonderful cooking. He was cooking bacon for me when I lived on Oswego St. When he got through with it, it looked like cigarette ashes.

Later...

Not much has been happening. Still the same old boring shit. Andy hasn’t called, but I called Jessie. She’s been trying to call me but didn’t know the machine wasn’t here for a while. She then tried after that but got the recording saying the phone’s disconnected. She was eating dinner and says she’ll call me back. Kim, naturally, isn’t home. I haven’t heard from Mom and Dad either so maybe Fran will call later.

I think I hear Kim home now. It cracked me up how she feels so guilty, she tells me, and how she should’ve known better as far as her busy schedule’s concerned. Not only am I angry with her and feeling very let down and led on, but I’m also angry with myself. As much as I love this place and wanted badly to get out of Crack Alley, I should’ve known better. Never fall for anything someone tells you, you’ll only end up trapped.