Feb 1991

2/1/1991 Fri. 8:22 PM

I called and talked one-on-one with a psychic, and you know I believe in them after the “strange” things I’ve done. I’ll write more about what I’ve done another time. Meanwhile, this woman told me everything I’ve always felt. Here goes:

1. You will try to quit smoking again and fail, and you may feel bummed out, but don’t, because in six months you won’t be smoking anymore.

2. If you ever have a baby, you won’t be a young mother; you may be between 33 and 35.

3. Fame will come in seven years, and when I’m just starting to make it in 1994 or so, I’ll meet Linda. Maybe not Gloria for a while, as she’s skittish about meeting new people.

4. I may live in L.A. for a while, then maybe have a huge home in Santa Barbara.

5. Be prepared for a potential break-in in March of 1993. I won’t be living here at the time.

6. This March, I’ll meet a woman with very long dark hair, 5'2" - 5'4", and see her on and off for six months. The problem will be me, as I’ll be unsure, as usual, or thinking, “This woman’s too good to be true.”

7. I’ll meet another woman at the end of this year or the very beginning of next who has light to medium brown hair just below her shoulders. She’ll be 5'6", and we’ll have more in common, although she won’t be as well off financially.

To me, it sounds like another Kacey followed by another Brenda.

2/5/1991 Tues. 6 PM

I feel like my whole life’s come to an end. In a month, Andy’s moving to Phoenix, and the only place my mother will move me to is Connecticut. Here I watch my best friend go and follow his dream, while mine gets further and further away. Maybe what I swore was meant to be for 25 years is only a dream I’ll dream and never do. But if it isn’t really meant to be, then why is the vision still so damn clear? It gets clearer and clearer all the time. My voice gets better and better, but it’s like a tease if I can never use it the way I want to. I never said I wouldn’t work for the music, but if I’m never going to be in the right place, then what’s the point?

My mother’s so hung up on controlling me and having me where she wants me to be and doing what she wants me to do. Hey, it’s better than Valleyhead, right? And if anyone’s used to having to settle for second best, it’s me. Some people get everything they want. Some people get some of the things they want. Some people get none of the things they want.

2/8/1991 Fri. midnight

As usual, I have another horrible cold where I just can’t stop sneezing or blowing my nose.

5:44 PM

I really want to perform tonight, believe it or not, but I still don’t feel too good. I woke up at 11:00 this morning with a bad attack that lasted till 5:00 this afternoon. I put my humidifier on, took some Sudafed, and drank two cups of tea.

Andy will be over later so I can record his Dark Shadows show, and so we can call Tammy. I’ll write more about what we’re going to talk to Tammy about later. Right now, I have to go pee and make some more tea.

What I had was bad withdrawal too, since I had not smoked for 18 hours.

2/12/1991 Tues. 3:40 AM

Well, I was right about the snow date I predicted right after the big snowstorm on December 28th. The vibe was really weak, though, probably because it only snowed for 10 minutes yesterday, February 11th.

Andy’s going to Phoenix at the beginning of next month, and I doubt I’ll be going too. My sister and my parents refuse to help me. You know how Ma is—it’s either her way or no way.

Jimmy’s buying a house, and he’s offered to store my stuff there, which is nice, but then how am I going to get it cross-country? It’ll take me quite a while to save the money to ship it. I’d rent a furnished apartment, but Andy wouldn’t get an apartment until he gets a job. He doesn’t have guaranteed money as I do from disability (he’s taking the money his folks gave him and is going to stay with friends he knows who used to live here until he gets on his feet). The other alternative would be to sell all my stuff, and I really don’t want to do that. The last alternative is to wait and save the money to move out by shipping my stuff and flying out, but that would cost a pretty penny. I’d have to work part-time for several months, as Tammy said. If I do get out there, I’ll work part-time, hopefully in a restaurant with Andy. Perhaps I could call Philip, but I seriously doubt he’d help me. I want to go to Phoenix not only for my music, but I also need a change. It’s cheaper to live there; it’s warmer, there’s no humidity, it’s great for asthma and allergies, and all the apartments have pools and air conditioning.

Tomorrow I am going to see a mediator with Russ about our so-called heating problem that he’s dying to resolve. I told him I know he’s sincere, and he is, but I’m going to tell it like it is. I have to meet him there at 4:00. Brenda’s taking me.

I feel bad for Brenda because I know she’ll miss me if I move and that she still loves me. I’ll miss her too, of course, and I love her still, but not like she does. She’s a very honest and sincere person, but I’m not overwhelmed by her looks, and she’s not quite my type, as great as she is. But of course, you know there was something there, or I’d never have slept with her in the first place. I’d have only been her friend. She’s far from ugly or a bad person, but that’s the way it always is—they’re either way more into me, or I’m way more into them.

Bonny has been a major sweetheart for a long time now, ever since I confronted her about her lies and offered for her to “try” and kick my ass.

2/14/1991 Thurs. 2:10 AM

The last week has taken a weird turn, but a nice one, I hope. First of all, I’m definitely not going to Phoenix because I just can’t see myself selling every single thing I own except for the clothes on my back. A move should be happy, exciting, and adventurous in every way. It should be much more secure, especially as big a move as that. Not sad, stressful, and miserable, too. You know me—I either take my time and do it right, or I don’t do it at all.

Russ and I went to see that mediator, who was a very obvious butch—ugly as all hell, but very nice and very much on my side. I simply told Russ that if he drops the eviction, I won’t press charges in small claims court. He did. After getting home from that meeting, I made a stop by the apartment Eddie and Jo L used to live in. Before I explain why I stopped there, let me back up a bit. About a month or so ago, I met this girl, Susan, in the laundry room. As we were talking, I learned she’s a singer who has performed quite a bit in Springfield and also in New York. I told her I sang and that it was my goal, and she asked me to stop by, but I was on my negative “I give up” streak due to all the shit I’ve been through.

It’s going to be so hard losing Andy despite the differences we’ve had in the past. We love each other to death and always will, even though I’ve had many desires to mutilate him here and there. I hope, however, that he goes to Phoenix, discovers it’s all he’s wanted it to be, and I can save money and join him someday.

As far as Sue goes, I finally thought, what the fuck? If I don’t try, I have nothing to lose. I stopped by, left my number with her roommate Jen, and she called me when she got in and came up. We harmonized together, and it sounded great. She had a cold, and I felt I sang a little better, but she’s still good and probably much better with no cold. She sings pretty much all over, though usually not in the winter. She has a band and performs three weekends a month. I asked her how much she usually made a month, and she said $1,600. I don’t think she meant the whole band, either—that was just her money. She said she did an anniversary and made $200 in just three hours. Hey, I don’t care if it’s the shittiest pay as long as it’s singing and not doing nothing or doing something I hate.

Kathy, Bonny’s sister-in-law, trimmed my hair today. She did a great job, and she also did a great job on Bonny’s hair and her daughter’s hair. Kathy trimmed my bangs and a half-inch off the bottom. God, have I got split ends—probably 8 out of every 10 hairs are split, some up to six or seven times.

By the 23rd of this month, it’ll be 120 days since the police exam I took, so I guess I’ll be notified soon. I always knew I’d make a good cop, but I also figured that at the same time it wasn’t meant to be—not now, for sure, since there’s going to be a default warrant out for me because of Jenny’s shit on March 6th. As I said before, Jenny got all she deserved, and I’m not giving her the satisfaction of coming to court. Andy says the cops I know will take care of the warrant. I thought about that, but I can’t count on it. Most of all, I very well may have flunked that test—you know my math sucks.

I spoke to Jai and Jenny. Jenny’s now living with Jai on Mattoon St. I hope they like it, but I know Jai hates the landlord. I left a message for Debbie at PCS to call me. I spoke to her a few days ago and told her, with my “feelings,” that she was gay—and she is. She’s now on break.

11:07 PM

Andy came over stoned out of his mind but in a good mood. Tomorrow is Andy’s birthday; he’s going to be 29. I gave him a card and a bag of hard candy. He’s leaving next month, and he’s still saying how much he wants me to come with him. Of course, I wish I could go too, but I just can’t sell everything. Even though Jimmy offered to store my stuff in the new house he’s buying, he’s still not sure he’s getting the house, and it may not be for several more months.

I thought of calling Philip about storing my stuff but never bothered, figuring he’d say no.

2/15/1991 Fri. 5 AM

Brenda is a major crackhead. About three or four months ago, Bonny and Dave got her hooked on crack by tricking her into it. They, I guess, put it in a bowl without telling her what it was. I assume Brenda figured it was pot. Now, Bonny blames Dave for this, but I believe Brenda when she says Bonny knew exactly what Dave was doing. I know Bonny’s type, and she’s already proven herself a pathological liar to me, Andy, and other people.

Let me also say that ever since I confronted Bonny with her lies and offered her a “try” at beating my ass, she’s been a major sweetheart to me. I told her if she wanted to be nice, I’d be nice, and if she wanted to fight, we could do it at her place, my place, the hall, outside, or wherever.

So, anyway, as I was saying, Brenda smokes pot occasionally and used to do coke here and there, but quit two years ago. I know Brenda’s no liar and she knows she has a problem and wants to do something about it, but goddamn it, is that all I ever can get?! Don’t I deserve better for once? All I can get is dope heads, loud, obnoxious mental cases, or shy, geeky, wimpy-type mental cases. Damn, can’t I get anyone both emotionally and financially stable for once? And when—oh, when—am I gonna get someone I’m really attracted to? I’m 25 years old, goddamn it. I want to feel that true sexual spark and overwhelming feeling for once. I’m bored with the so-so-looking ones. I feel I deserve my ideal type of person with the qualities I want. Of course, I’m not asking for Miss Perfect, but can’t I come close for once?

Other than Brenda’s problems—which are ten times worse than mine—she is a good person who’s far from ugly, and I know she still has true feelings for me, but I’m not stupid. She always comes over saying, “I miss you, and I love you,” when she’s horny. She hardly comes over just to visit, and we never do nonsexual things together, and we never really talk. She’s too quiet, although she has been talking more. She told me she noticed I’m talking less and have changed a lot and that I don’t push her away as much. Then what did she do earlier? Yesterday, I mentioned I got my hair trimmed and said she did a good job, and Brenda went, “Yeah, but I’m not in the mood to talk about your hair.” I told her she’s been talking to me non-stop about the fights she and Bonny have been having for the last month or so, and I haven’t pushed her away or jumped down her throat. So, I got up and left, and she called me, apologizing, saying she felt shitty from withdrawal.

I have fully accepted that I’ll never get first best, but damn, am I sick of second best! That’s why I’ve been spending so much time alone, too. There’s always way more bad than good when I get involved with someone, and there shouldn’t be. That’s how I know I’m with the wrong person. They say when you meet the right person, you’ll know it, and I believe that. I’ve met them—they’ve just been taken or not interested in me. Again, I either do it right or I don’t do it at all. Better to take care of yourself than to be taken care of by the wrong person.

2/17/1991 Sun. 1 AM

I am now in the ER waiting for Brenda to get her nose checked. It feels good to be here, not needing to be a patient for once. Brenda and Bonny were babysitting for Paul and Kathy's kids, and Brenda went to the store and got punched in the nose. She called me from Kathy's, asking if I would go to the ER with her. Naturally, I said yes since she’s taken me here before. While I was waiting, Andy came over. At first, we both thought she had gone to buy drugs and had been robbed or beaten up. According to Brenda, though, she went out to get cigarettes for her and Bonny when a guy approached her, and she rolled down her window. I asked why, and she said she thought he might have been asking for directions. The guy insisted she buy drugs; she refused, and his girlfriend punched her in the nose. She also spat on her window, and as she tried to back out, her car stalled, and the girl threw a bottle at her windshield. The windshield wasn’t broken, but something spilled on it.

Brenda insists she wouldn’t lie to me, Gail, or Bonny and has mentioned that she does drugs. I was over earlier, and Gail was begging her to get high, and she refused. I don’t know why Brenda associates with people like Gail. Brenda says, “She’s got problems; you can’t push her away for that.” I said she could, especially if the girl is only out to hurt her and be a bad influence. Bonny agrees; Brenda’s friends will keep trying if she isn’t firm. It’s too bad Brenda’s wimpy and has this problem, because she’s such a good person. She deserves better and deserves to be better.

9:14 AM

Earlier, I was all set to go to bed, but now I’m wide awake. I’ve had plenty of cigarettes, and I pray I don’t wake up sick.

While listening to music, a strange feeling came over me. I remembered the fire we had here a little over a year ago. Then, as I took off my headphones, I heard yelling and sirens. At first, I thought it was a drug bust, but I looked out the window and saw tons of fire trucks and smoke coming from a fourth-floor window. Firemen were on a huge ladder with hoses. It’s one of the major crack buildings on Locust St. near the Red Lion Café. I hope no kids or innocent people were hurt. I don’t think anyone was, and hopefully the building was evacuated. One less crack house on the street.

I’m going to try to get some sleep now. I want to be up by 5:00 or 6:00, so I have time to wake up, eat, and shower. Andy may come over, but I told him to call first; he'd better, because at 9:00 I’ll be watching a movie while taping another, and I can’t tape both at once.

Oh, one more thing: Kevin H got a subpoena today to appear in court on charges of annoying phone calls. That’s the name this phone is now using—Andy’s idea, choosing a name from one of the characters of Twin Peaks.

2/18/1991 Mon. 6:13 AM

Well, sure enough, but not surprisingly enough, I woke up with a bad attack yesterday. It wasn’t the worst attack, but it wasn’t very fun either. I had too many cigarettes. I didn’t get up till 7:00 because I kept waking up a billion times. I fell asleep near 10:00 yesterday morning, and if I had been able to sleep straight through, I’d have woken up at 5:00. It’s going to be a heck of a while before I fall asleep, and I’ve got Bill coming around 6:30 tonight.

I need to psych myself up to quit smoking again. I hate this feeling of having pressure on me and feeling like I can’t take control. These cigarettes have such power over me, and I don’t like it. But then again, look at all the other powers and controls I’ve had over other things. I don’t mean just psychic powers either. Speaking of psychic powers, it just gets weirder all the time. It’s developing more and more, and it’s almost too hard to believe and accept. My Nana Bella always told me that if you have a gift, don’t question it—just accept it and use it. I guess she’s right, and I have to consider my “bad vibes” as a gift when I remember the fire.

If I ever do run into Mark B, who set that fire, I don’t think he’d want to look in the mirror for quite a while.

2/19/1991 Tues. 6 AM

Not a whole heck of a lot has happened since I woke up last night at 7:00. I spoke to Brenda briefly, watched a movie while taping another, and talked with Steve.

I’m totally wiped out of food. I may go shopping this morning. Brenda’s going to take me, I guess.

Bonny says she’s moving on March 1st, and Brenda says she’s moving on April 1st. I feel like I’m losing everybody. Andy’s moving, Brenda’s moving, Jimmy’s moving. Before I know it, Steve will be moving, and I’ll be left behind with no one. I’ll be damned, though, if I’m going to move into a project. I don’t care if the neighborhood is better or not.

About singing—yeah, well, ha, ha. That Susan girl will no doubt not come through. I don’t think I can count on anything coming up with her. But will I ever be able to count on anything about music? Sometimes I wonder. I wonder how I can keep surviving and when I’m gonna break down and lose my mind. I have absolutely nothing to look forward to or live for. If there is truly a God, I can’t even compromise with him. I prayed for him to take away the right woman and a baby if he must, but please let me break into the music business. Why was I dumb enough to keep hoping and believing in the first place? I keep telling myself there’s no way, and why, but the vision won’t go away. Why? Why, oh why, oh why? What’s left for me now?

I wish Nervous would call me. I really miss him despite his mouth and his attitude. I haven’t seen Nervous for many, many months. I called him at the Bucket of Suds Laundromat. He still works at Feinstein’s Leather, too. For the last couple of months that I’ve called him—by myself or with Fran or Andy—he’s hung up instantly on us, but this time he spoke to me. I simply told him I was sincere about wanting him to visit me and that any shit I’d pulled in the past had been because of his mouth and his attitude. I never hated Nervous—just some of his ways. To tell the truth, I miss that sucker. I think back to the days when he was in the worst of his obsession with me on Oswego St., and it really was funny. I had a lot of fun playing with his head, and everyone knows he enjoyed it too. Anyone not enjoying it wouldn’t have stuck around as long as he did.

What made him flee, though, was definitely Andy. He got tired of competing with him, and he knew he could never mean to me what Andy does. And you know Andy and I have had our share of problems, too. Another thing is how I finally let him start meeting my girlfriends, if you know what I mean. I miss playing “dead phone line” with him and also the cross-call-waiting game. I wish I could make things like they used to be with him for a while and then get rid of him once I started getting really sick of him again. True, there’s only so much of the guy I can take before I want to kill him.

I want to get some more really heated-up fights over the phone with him and Fran so I can tape them. I need more edits of him. The old ones are classics, and I’ll always love them and find them funny as all hell, but it’s time for new ones. Nervous never liked his edits. He just never had that kind of sense of humor, even if they were never played for his boss, among other people. But then again, maybe he would. It’s not as if he has no sense of humor. Of course, Nervous is not the type to make prank phone calls, other than the calls he made to me. He never said anything, though. It was simply a case of wanting to hear the girl’s voice that he was so obsessed with: to see if I’m home, who I’m with, what I might say. But to call people with funny last names, people you hate, or just dial random numbers—no way. It just wasn’t in him.

I can say I’m really quite proud of myself for sticking with something besides music or music-related projects for so long. I’ve been keeping journals since 10/27/1987. I was 21 years old. In fact, I think I’m going to go read back on some entries to kill time.

2/20/1991 Wed. 2 AM

I feel shitty, so I’m not going to write much. I couldn’t fall asleep until almost noon yesterday, and I had to get up at 6:00. An hour later, I went grocery shopping. I’ve felt very groggy all day—or night, I should say.

Kim called about a vacancy next door to her. She’s going to talk to the owner, but it’ll no doubt be too expensive.

I’m dead tired, so I’m going to bed now.

2/23/1991 Sat. 1:45 AM

I have got the news of my life!!! The news I’ve been waiting for for 25 years! I got into that band with Susie!!! Yes, I really, really did! I feel as if I’m dreaming such a fantastic dream that I can’t wake up from, but this is all real. It’s really happening. The band’s name is ERA, and there are five people in the band besides Susie and me as the singers. She’s going to be taking me to a recording studio to meet the other band members. When she’s going to do this, I don’t know. She’s going to call me. They perform 2–3 nights a week starting March 9th, and she said I could expect to earn $600 a month on average. That’s $1,221 a month, counting my SS and Bill!

I called everyone about it, including Tammy, Mom, Andy, Brenda, Steve, Philip, and Martha. Next, I’ve got to tell Jai and Jimmy.

Believe it or not, I’m not done with the good news, so let me now mention that I saw Kim’s apartment. Man, is it huge!

I spent the day with her and her husband, Mark, who’s a cop in the town of Greenfield. They live in South Deerfield. I felt an unusual yet immediate comfort with him and felt as if I’d known him for years, like with Kim. Many people have told me that they’ve felt as if they’d known me for years, but you know me. I feel as though I can truly say that about someone once in a lifetime. Then again, I also know someone’s character the second I lay eyes on them. Besides psychic vibes, I’ve had a lot of experiences.

2/25/1991 Mon. 9:37 AM

Due to being up for 21½ hours the last time I wrote, I never got to write more of my good news. Yes, believe it or not, I’ve got two fantastic things to share. If all goes well with both, this will be my year for record-breaking luck and happiness—things finally going my way. I deserve it, and I have a good feeling about both. Once again, I know I can count on my feelings.

I even called Anna about my good news, and she was happy for me and said she’d like to get together. I told Jim and Jai, too. Steve said, “What did I always tell you about wanting to be a singer? I told you it would all work out.” He also said it was so nice to see me happy. It’s great to finally feel this way. My horoscope hinted at this the day before Susie told me I was in the band, and now it’s hinting at the so-called relationship coming up in mid-March. That’s what the psychic astrologer said over the phone. I think maybe Steve can foresee things too, as he said he feels I’ll hit the peak of fame by 1996, and then afterward I’ll meet the “right” woman. I never told Steve that year was the one I felt would be mine, as well as the psychic astrologer. He also always said he felt I’d move before him, and I may very well be moving—I’m 80% sure of it. That’s my other good news, but I have something to say first about my predictions. I’m always either right or very, very close. I always had a feeling I’d get in a band by accident, when I least expected it, and I always felt it might happen at home. Since I’m a homebody 95% of the time, fate would lead it to me at my door, and I’d take it from there. I was right all along.

10:51 AM

I took a quick break to talk to Brenda, have a bite to eat, and smoke a cigarette, but I forgot to mention speaking to Mary D. I called and said, “What’s up, butch?”

She said, “Who’s this?”

I said, “Just because it’s been a long time, do you think I’ve forgotten what happened?” I expected her to start screaming at me, cursing, or threatening me, but she was friendly. I knew it was sincere and not a trap.

She said it was done and over with and just wanted to be friendly. I said if she wanted to fight, I’d fight her, but if she wanted to be friends, fine. I’ve got to call her back Tuesday night and simply tell her what I wasn’t able to say years ago. I’m just not into butches as lovers. Being friends is one thing, but if they’re in my bed, they must be feminine.

The night I made prank calls to her while Margaret, her sister, was in the hospital in labor was wrong, and I can see if she came over to yell at me to knock it off, but you don’t try to beat someone up and trash their apartment over that. Of course, I’d have defended myself. Mary knows I did not hurt her; I simply restrained her. If she’d come back a second time, I would have defended myself further.

Ok, now on to my other good news. As I mentioned before, I feel as if I’ve known Kim for years—and her husband too. I’ve only known her for a few months, but if I gave her my keys to take care of Shadow while I was away, I know I could trust her.

She knows how desperately I want to move and why I decided not to go to Arizona or Connecticut, and now I have the band too. One day, she told me to come see her place, which is one of only two apartments on the top floor of a three-story office building. She said the guy could easily ask for $1,000 if he wanted, but because of who they are in town, I could have it for $525. Jesus, you’ve got to see this place to believe it! I thought my place was huge and beautiful, but my place is a joke compared to this. It’s 1,200 square feet with a washer and dryer, Jacuzzi, dishwasher, trash compactor, central AC, burglar alarm, sprinklers, and a microwave better than mine. Everything’s glamorously modern, not just plain modern, with skylights too. Everything’s electric, and I assumed the heating bill would be $50–$100 a month, especially with cathedral ceilings, but she showed me both her electric and heating bills—they’re both around $23. I know I’d be saving on the monthly phone charge since they don’t offer 3-way, call waiting, or call forwarding out in Deerfield.

I called Tammy and told her about it, and she seemed interested. I told her everything I just wrote. Deerfield is 40 minutes away. It’s like Longmeadow, where everyone knows your name, but it doesn’t have the stuck-up attitude of most ritzy towns.

2/26/1991 Tues. 7:50 AM

God, that apartment has so many features that, reading back a few pages, I realized I forgot one—ceiling fans.

I’ll write more about the apartment later, but first, I passed the police officer exam! Can you believe it—I scored 81%?! I wasn’t sure how I did, especially with how I struggle with math. Tammy even said not to be upset if I failed, since those are tough tests to pass.

Everyone’s asking what’s next, and I guess it’s just waiting—seeing what they say and, if I move, what they’ll decide.

That night at Kim and Mark’s place, Kim played the piano, and I sang and played too. Kim is an amazing piano player. I’d listen to her play songs without looking, then show her how I play by ear. She’d play songs while I sang along—it was a lot of fun. After a great home-cooked dinner, we went to the Hampshire Mall. At first, I told myself, you can look, but you can’t buy. Then I thought, wait a minute, I’m not buying a new stereo yet. I just got into a band that looks promising. I haven’t bought anything but Gloria’s new CD since last August. Fuck this—I’m going shopping!

Perfect timing, too—I got a fantastic deal on a beautiful party dress, or evening dress as you’d call it. It’s perfect for performing. It was regularly $54, down to $10, and it’s a little big. It’s a 7/9, though I’m a 3/5, but for $10, I’ll make it fit. I’ve got to hem the sleeves and take it in at the bust, since I’m so small, but it fits fine at the waist. I also bought a red skirt with a wide black belt—the ruffled kind I like—and two pretty journals at a really nice price.

2/28/1991 Thurs. 12:51 PM

I’m so bored, impatient, and excited! I want to hurry up and check out that apartment. I hope Peter, the owner, whose cousin is undecided, gives the place to me—I know I want it for sure. I don’t know if I remembered to write about this before, but his cousin, who’s getting divorced, saw the place and may be interested. I hope not.

Yesterday, Kim spoke to Peter, who said his cousin was still undecided and needed another day or two. That may be a good sign—his being undecided. Hopefully, he’ll go back to his wife and kids or maybe move out of state. Kim, however, seems to think he’s more on our side and would never have bothered to discuss it with us or have us come see it if I didn’t stand a chance. Let’s hope his cousin made up his mind for the better today!

I also hope the guy who’s in there now moves out before April 1st—the sooner, the better.

All I’ll have to take care of, besides physically moving, will be SS, the bank, fuel assistance, and whatever happens with the police exam I passed. I also need to follow up on my doctor’s appointments, which I should have done a long time ago. I’ll need a new asthma doctor, and I need to see a GYN for this recurring yeast infection. I also need a dental checkup and need to call fuel assistance to find out what’s going on with my checks. I really need them, and I’m sick of waiting.

Jan 1991

Springfield and S. Deerfield, MA

Age 25

1/3/1991 Thurs. 1:22 AM

New Year’s Eve sucked. First of all, Jimmy, downstairs, and I made the big mistake of picking up Fran and bringing him over. Fran embarrassed the shit out of Jimmy, who had Mike and Lisa over. Mike and Lisa live next door in #11. Jimmy’s in #10, directly below me. He’s getting evicted, which sucks. He turned out to be an OK neighbor. With my luck, some jackass will move in who’s the type that’ll freak if I have the stereo on the lowest volume.

Fran was drunk off his ass. He couldn’t stop playing with my hair, slapping Andy and me on our heads, and he fucking raided the kitchen as if he hadn’t eaten in years. He’s never coming over here again.

Tracy was over tonight. She lost a lot of weight.

Andy and I had a huge fight, and we shoved each other. Much later, when we were calm, we laughed about it, admitting we were glad we shoved each other to get our frustrations out.

I really do hate having a roommate, and I explained to him that it’s going to take some serious getting used to and adjusting. I’ve been alone so long, and I do prefer it that way. Three years or so ago, I’d have jumped at the thought of having a roommate, but as I’ve gotten older, my desires have changed. Just like I really don’t care to be with a woman or to have a baby anymore. I do want to very occasionally have casual sex, but not with just anyone. I really wish someday I could have one night—just one night—with a woman I’m attracted to and feel that spark with, rather than a woman who’s just OK. I know it won’t happen, though, and I accepted that a long time ago. Well, like I always said, better to fantasize about first best rather than to settle for second best. Another reason fantasy is better is that if the relationship is getting rocky, you can simply click it off and out of your mind. You certainly can’t do this in a real-life relationship.

1/4/1991 Fri. 8:39 PM

I just took some decongestant medicine Brenda gave me, and I'm so drowsy now.

1/7/1991 Mon. 9:39 PM

Well, it didn’t snow today like I felt it would, but they say it may snow on Wednesday.

I met this really nice nurse named Kim at Baystate ER. She’s super nice, open-minded, and the type you feel you’ve known for years the second you meet her.

She was on her way home when I was standing outside the ER entrance, and I saw The Joy of Signing book in her hand, and we took it from there. It turns out that we have a lot in common, and I’m giving her sign language lessons. We’ve met three times so far, and today she took me to Valley’s for baked stuffed shrimp in exchange for my teaching her sign language. However, she really is doing me a favor too, by giving me a chance to use my sign language and to keep on top of it.

10:25 PM

From now on, I must learn to be my own therapist. I shall try to discuss as much as I can about my feelings with myself or write them in this book. I always admired myself for being able to speak my mind, but now I find it’s better to keep my mouth shut most of the time. Communication only starts fights and arguments. People often misunderstand the things I say and do and take me the wrong way, so what’s the use? I’m gonna just start going along with as much as I can, except for things like sex with an ugly woman or a man. I want to learn to talk less and be able to cheer myself up when I’m depressed or sick as independently as I can.

I’m really proud of myself for last night. I had a massive asthma attack, and I was terrified. I mean fucking terrified. I was crying tears like a leaky faucet, but I didn’t wimp out to anyone. I was about to dial 911 and say, “Look, it’s been hours that I’ve been trying to fight this off, and I just can’t.” Yet even after being told at the ER what a risk it is to your heart and in other ways, I beat it on my own.

1/9/1991 Wed. 2:44 AM

It started to snow a few hours ago, so I was off by one day, but that’s still close.

Right now, I’m listening to Andy, Fran, Tracy, and Raven make prank phone calls. Raven was in the lip-sync contest and never won. She made a pitiful drag queen and literally froze on stage, but she seems to be a nice person. Fran’s taken him in for a month till he gets a job. Well, like Tracy said, Fran’s good at taking people off the streets.

Last night was a hell of a night. I had a severe migraine and was crying for hours in bed till I finally threw up twice. Of course, Andy didn’t give a fuck, and I knew it, so I held it in and suppressed the urge to scream out. I needed someone so badly last night. Well, I had to puke instead, cuz Andy would’ve freaked if I woke him up. Plus, he’d rather make me feel worse than better. I get shit on whether I speak positively or negatively about myself. The guy who’s supposed to be my best friend’s busy turning my friends against me and constantly talking shit to Brenda, Bonny, Steve—you name it. He said, both to me and others, more negative shit about me than positive.

I’ll write more later, since all I have to talk to is this book, unless I hold it in till I puke. But puking is better than trashing things, though I can’t believe I didn’t. Reaching out to people and communicating with them only gets me in trouble and misunderstood, so I’d rather puke and lose weight.

1/13/1991 Sun. 12:48 AM

Well, I’m still feeling like shit, unfortunately. There’s no feeling worse than wanting to pick yourself up, be happy, be productive, but you just can’t. My asthma’s killing me, and I’m still under mega stress—way more so than I’ve been in a long time. I mean, this has got to stop, but I feel helpless, like I don’t know where to begin to help myself. It just isn’t always easy. I miss those days when I was productive non-stop and could physically bounce off the walls for endless hours. I was a dancer. Now I take two steps, and my heart’s racing, or I’m wheezing, or both. I wanted to kill myself for getting so out of breath with only two bags of groceries to carry up. Two years ago, I could’ve run up those stairs 20 times.

I still can’t stand having Andy here. Even if I lived with Brenda, I’d go nuts, even though she’d be easier to live with cuz she’s more easygoing and calm compared to Andy.

Andy looked at a room on Mulberry St., but I’m afraid he’ll be here much longer than I can stand. Andy and I will remain friends, but I may move to CT since there’s nothing for me here, and Andy and I will save money and then maybe move to PHX.

1/16/1991 Wed. 3:40 PM

While I’m waiting for Martha, I can tell you how well I woke up. It was 5 a.m., and fucking Andy asked me to wake him up at 7:00. I told him to set his alarm in case I fell asleep, and I did. I then woke up briefly at 9 a.m. The next thing I know, the little fuck is saying, “Hey! Hey! Don’t you have an appointment?” It was 1:15 p.m., and my alarm had another 45 minutes to go. I wanted to kill him! Then the little fuck goes, “Thanks for waking me up.” I told him it’s not my fucking responsibility to get him up. I also set his alarm, and he said it didn’t work, so he took his anger and frustration out on me by waking me up. Then the immature brat plays the answering machine messages back loudly, stomps his feet, and sings at the top of his lungs. Is this guy ever going to grow up?

His favorite show had 20 more minutes to go when he left, and I had had it with his bullshit, so I stopped the VCR from recording.

He’s got two days to get the fuck out.

As for the good news—and yes, believe it or not, there is good news—very, very, very good news. I have not smoked since January 14th!!! No, I do not feel like I want one!!!!!

7 PM

I let it all out in therapy today. About how, even though there’s a lot of good in Andy, he’s also an immature, spiteful, selfish little boy who will only hear what he wants to hear. And how he’s got to either condemn or make someone miserable in some way when things in life aren’t going the way he wants.

He’s over there crying on Brenda’s and Bonny’s shoulders now, as he’s not man enough to face me. Like last night, when he said how his mother said it was wrong for him to go to Brenda. I simply said, “Andy, you’re gonna do what you’re gonna do, believe what you want to believe, say what you want to say, and hear what you want to hear.”

He’s a wimp, and even though he’s turned Brenda, Bonny, and Steve against me, I know they’re really fed up with him crying on their shoulders and needing a babysitter. Of course, God help someone if they should be upset or sick and go cry on HIS shoulder.

1/17/1991 Thurs. midnight

Well, in an hour, I’ll have gone 72 hours without smoking. The reality of it all still hasn’t quite hit me, but everything’s gone just as I predicted. Just like with the Navane and other things, I’ve predicted how, why, and when they’d happen. Some predictions, for example, with the Navane and smoking, I predicted three or four years before they happened. Before I quit, I mean. I could see how it was gonna happen too, and why.

1 AM

Am I ever psyched for Andy to get the hell out! He’s supposed to move this Saturday to rent a room on Dickinson. Yeah, sure, but I’m like, get this wacko outa here! Andy never really was a true friend—not in all ways, but in some ways. The reason I’m running around calling him a liar about this and that so much lately is cuz he’s done it so much to me. He can’t take his best friend’s word for anything, so now he’s seeing how he likes it. Why would I, or any other 25-year-old, need to lie to a friend? I’m not a child who has to fear punishment if the truth is told.

I cannot wait till he’s outa here, and I will never let myself get into this situation again. I, of course, should’ve known better with a person like Andy. Or his type. Andy just freaks out over anything and everything. I know plenty of other people with whom I have much less in common, but could live with them so much more easily. However, I will never live with anyone again. That’s how I felt before Andy moved in, so I sure as hell won’t change my mind about that now. He has lived here for almost a month.

4:16 AM

The last sentence got cut off cuz Andy and I started talking. We also played the piano and sang. I still say, though, that yes, he has a lot of good qualities, yes, we have a lot in common, but God, he can be an asshole!

1/18/1991 Fri. 4 AM

If I’m such a cruel, nasty bitch who has so many bad points and not too many good ones, as people like to tell me, then why do people bother with me? Why not go find someone like themselves? I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel guilty or selfish cuz I want to live alone. Or be myself.

I haven’t talked with Steve or Jessie for the longest time. I’m not good enough for them. That’s how I feel. I can’t help but always feel that way with everyone, even though I know I have good qualities. If I dump all my friends, I won’t have to worry about communication and being misunderstood or feeling like I’m not good enough or a burden to them. People can be so contradictory, too. They play with my head. I’ll say something that they’ll say they agree with 100%, then the next day they’ll use it against me and play me for a fool. Like, “How dare you say that, Jodi!” But yesterday they agreed with and fully understood what I said. I’m no longer gonna be made to feel ashamed, foolish, or guilty about the way I feel about things. The way I feel is the way I feel, and who and what I am is who and what I am. Not what others want me to be, say, act, or feel.

7:12 AM

The little wimpett is going to start moving today and be out by tomorrow. I’m counting down the minutes.

Another reason I haven’t spoken to Steve is that I’m tired of the “Andy said” bullshit. It puts me on the spot when I’m all of a sudden hit with something Andy said. Then I have to defend myself and explain something he made up or twisted around to make them dislike me or misunderstand me. He loves to turn people against me, and he’s dropped plenty of hints that he’s had some pretty long and heavy-duty talks with his friend Adam concerning me. With many others, too. If you typed up all he’s ever said to people about me, he’d have a 3" thick book. Of course, in the long run, as far as Andy thinks, he’s 95% right, and I’m 95% wrong.

6:18 PM

Tomorrow, Mr. Melodramatic is out of here. Thank fucking God! I can’t wait to have this place back to myself. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here, but God only knows I’m counting down the minutes till Mr. Antic is out of here.

It shocks the shit out of me to say that as of 1 a.m. tonight, it’ll be five days, going on six, since I last smoked. Amazing, huh? Not that I’m not getting urges here and there. I am. But the urges are very brief, and five days is fantastic, seeing that the longest I’ve ever made it before was just a tad over two days. My back pain is gone. And I am no longer so severely short of breath. I’m still a little tight in the chest, though, and a little wheezy and still coughing and sneezing some. Besides having bad withdrawal, I also have a cold. The cold is subsiding much quicker than it would’ve if I still smoked. It’ll be really nice to only have a cold for four days out of the year rather than 300 days out of the year.

9:15 PM

Jesus, I’ve been up 22 hours! When am I gonna fall asleep? I think part of it is cuz I’m so psyched for Andy to get the fuck out tomorrow morning. Wait till the people he rents from find out he doesn’t do chores and breaks things. Or tries to when he isn’t getting his way. Wait till he himself finds out our friendship is over.

1/19/1991 Sat. 12:24 AM

Sure enough, I fucking woke up hacking my brains out about an hour ago. I had fallen asleep right after I last wrote. I definitely have a cold. No doubt about it, as I can really feel it now.

Andy said that even when I feel I’ve kicked the smoking habit, I’ll still have urges. Of course, I know I will every so often, and Andy’s been supportive, but I think he’s starting to get somewhat jealous. God knows he’s very capable of that too, as I’ve seen him display jealousy before. It’s OK to feel a little jealous of someone now and then, but it depends on how you handle that jealousy. Andy has quit for 10 days on two different occasions. Depending on the situation, I sometimes will look at a glass of water as being either half full or half empty. Andy will always see it as half empty.

Well, the street animals are out playing musical horns as usual.

Thank fucking God Andy will be out of here in less than 12 hours!

5:20 AM

I wish to hell I could go back to sleep for a while. I have a lot of shit I need to do today, and I want to sleep tomorrow night to be awake for Sunday’s voice lesson.

I started to get really pissed off with my urges to smoke. Even though they’re not intense, they’re still pretty frequent, and I know it’ll be this way forever. The thought of always craving a cigarette pissed me off to the point where I held one and stared at it. I told myself if I smoked it, I’d have a severe attack, which is true. I told myself I didn’t want to ever have to go to the ER again and be within inches of death 24 hours a day and in so much constant pain that I WISHED I were dead. I also thought of my singing. Yes, craving one is a better way of suffering, but it’s going to suck just the same. Since I do not drink or do drugs, it’s hard not to have something of some kind to do, and watching others smoke.

1/21/1991 Mon. 5:30 AM

Yesterday, my niece Lisa turned 8.

The day before yesterday, I had about four cigarettes. I was terrified to go to bed, thinking I’d wake up with a wicked bad attack, but I woke up fine. In fact, I feel better than I have in a long time. My nose and lungs are clearer, and I’m not tight in the chest, and there’s no back pain. Today I’ve had only one, but I could really go for one now.

11:22 PM

Right after I last wrote, Jimmy gave me a cigarette, which was my second. I fell asleep at 9:00 this morning, figuring it’d be easy to get up at 1 p.m. cuz I’d slept so many hours the day before. How wrong I was. I was dead tired. I didn’t get up until a few minutes before 4:00, when Bill rang the buzzer. I remained tired ever since, but at least I got my grocery shopping done. I want to do more laundry tonight, but I’m too beat. Last night I did two loads from around 12:30–2:30 AM. It was quite convenient, as I’m a night person and knew no one would be using the machines.

1/23/1991 Wed. 5:39 AM

I have therapy today, yet I don’t know how the hell I’m going to get there. I slept till almost 8:00 last night.

Andy came over last night, and once again, things are fairly good between us now that we’re not living together. See, when you fight with someone over the phone, you can just hang up on them. It’s not that simple when you’re living with someone.

Since Sunday, I’ve been having 2–3 cigarettes a day, and it’s catching up to me, so I’ve got to be careful again. My back pain’s back, and I’m waking up coughing again.

1/24/1991 Thurs. 2:34 AM

When I finally fell asleep, I’d been up for 20 hours. I awoke at 8:30 this morning. I’m surprised I didn’t sleep longer since I couldn’t fall asleep till 4:00 this afternoon.

I called Community Care and left a message for Martha saying I wouldn’t be back. I figure, how am I ever going to learn how to suppress my feelings and be independent if I continue therapy? Yes, I know I’m already what most people would call mega independent for a girl my age, especially all except for my source of income. I’m not gonna get into my income, except to say yes, I’d much rather earn it by singing, and someday I will, but for now I do not feel guilty. The state owes me. They fucked me over. And over. And over.

Although I’ve known all my life that being a famous singer was destined, I also knew it wouldn’t come young. I figured I’d be between the ages of 30 and 32. I knew it’d be fast once it all started. That may be why it’s not coming till 30 or 32 rather than now.

Also, I knew that the Gods had lots of learning experiences for me and survival tests lined up for me, and boy, have I now had five lifetimes of that! However, I am grateful to have learned some of the things I’ve learned. What you don’t know can hurt you or severely frustrate you or raise false hopes for you.

I am surprised Andy and Fran haven’t tried calling. Also, there was no message on the machine from Brenda.

7:28 AM

I am going to try to stay up till 9:00 when the Western Mass legal aid office opens. I need to speak to a legal intern who’s got some advice for me. I don’t know if I wrote about it yet, but Russ is being a prick by trying to evict me. I know it’s cuz I’ve been demanding the heat that I pay for in my rent—which I haven’t gotten, along with several other tenants. This may also be for tax purposes or to get people out so he can raise the rent. My parents and Tammy are pissed at him, and Dad referred me to legal aid. The little fuck, though, wouldn’t speak to Tammy or me and never called Dad back. He refuses to give me a reason, but he told Andy it was cuz I didn’t like the neighborhood, and this way I can move out. I was in the ER at the time, so he handed the notice to Andy.

I went down to the housing court, and the woman there said that cuz I pay on the 1st, he can’t evict me till February 9th. He gave me a 30-day notice on January 9th, but by law, the little fuck can’t do shit till March 1st. Hopefully, Russ will hurry up and take me to court so I can sue him there and try to get back rent payments for the months I froze my ass off. That’s probably what Wendy at legal aid will tell me to do. I mean, what the fuck does this prick expect to say or do in court other than make a spectacle out of himself? Steve says the jackass will drop it. Bullshit. I know how people are. When they start trouble, they start trouble, but this little fuck obviously doesn’t realize he’s fucking with the wrong girl.

Same with Jenny C. Court on March 6th? HA! Jenny got exactly what she deserved, so she’s going to have to enjoy going to court herself, cuz I sure as hell won’t be there.

8:51 AM

Andy and I are performing at the Pub this Friday night. He’s gonna do If I Were You by Stevie Nicks, and I’m gonna do Words Get in the Way by Gloria.

Speaking of Gloria, she’s got a new album due to come out in five days. I hope there are some songs in Spanish on it. I wish I could’ve gotten that album with a lot of her songs in Spanish on it, including Words Get in the Way (No Me Vuelvo a Enamorar). It would be better to do the Spanish version for the contest. I’ll need to order that album.

Brenda gave me two ciggies, so now that makes seven. I’m really gonna pay for this. God, please don’t let me have a bad attack till I can once again get up the will to try and quit again.

Ok, time to move me, my coffee, and my phone to the bedroom where I’m nice and comfortable.

11:30 PM

I woke up feeling fairly good. I slept with my humidifier on.

Little fuck Fran’s up to his shit again. I woke up to a message from his neighbor, Debbie, accusing me of saying I’m gonna hurt her two-year-old daughter and that Fran got a call from DES. I then had to explain to her how long I’ve known Fran and how little she knew him and that she had quite a bit to learn. This poor girl was terrified. Fran got her all worked up, and it’s obviously a sexual issue or the fact that Fran had a horrendously lousy day. Debbie said I sounded sincere, and I told her not to worry about Fran’s BS and not to let it get to her. I also told her to tell Fran that not only is he not welcome here anymore, but he’s not welcome to call me either. Between the shit Fran pulled with my mother, along with other stuff, and now this, that’s the final straw, and I don’t need him.

Andy left a message about returning the videotape of his show so I can record his soap. I called over where he lives, and Gail says he’s not there. I also called over at Brenda’s, assuming he’d be there, but there was no answer.

1/25/1991 Fri. 3:35 AM

Shadow’s climbing all over me. I swear this cat is so affectionate and loving. He follows me everywhere. I should’ve named him Glue instead. Earlier, I was running around the living room with him. We have several games we play.

I spoke to Andy a little while ago for the second time. I told him I’d record his show for him on one of my tapes.

The reason I’ve been sleeping during the day, which of course is never hard to do, is cuz, as I mentioned before, Andy and I are performing at the Pub anoche.

Andy told me another bizarre thing. First, let me back up and mention Angie. I don’t think I mentioned her. A while back, not even a month ago, we went to the Pub, and I eyed this girl; she seemed prettier than usual and had Andy speak to her for me. When he came back to where I was sitting, he said she was a rude bitch. He said she said, “Well, after I dump this asshole, I’ll think about it.” She was with another girl. Angie was totally smashed, and the next part of the story will tell you so.

As Andy and I were leaving at closing time, we walked by Angie and her girlfriend, and Andy goes, “Now, here’s the better-looking girl,” and she saw me and insisted I come back to the bar. She hadn’t seen what I looked like till then.

Now here’s the sad but typical part, especially for a bar person and a fairly good-looking one. She screamed out so the whole bar could hear, “Will you lick my pussy?” Then she did the usual trick people do and gave me the wrong phone number.

What’s bizarre is that Andy was cutting through this Laundromat to his mother’s store that I’ve been to before, and it turns out Angie works there. That Laundromat is a dump. I used to go there when I lived on Oswego St.

He said her name to be sure, and she said, “Yeah, I’m Angie. How’d you know?”

Then Andy told her, “You don’t want to know.” Andy said she had no makeup on and looked tired.

He also said that maybe God sent him to walk through there to find out where she works, so I can take it from there.

I definitely don’t want a relationship nowadays, even with the right person. I just wanna have fun here and there, but not with just anyone. Right now, what’s most important to me and mainly on my mind is having what I’ve never had in my entire 25 years of life—sex with someone I’m really sexually attracted to and turned on by, if only for a night. I’d rather have a few one-nighters here and there, even if it’s only five a year with someone I’m attracted to, rather than get serious with someone who doesn’t really matter.

6:25 AM

I went through all my journals, and I’ve kept journals for three years and three months now. I went through each one and wrote the entry dates on the covers. I guess that’s gonna be my new thing. I’ve written 360 days of the three years and three months. On the cover of each book, I wrote the month and then each day of that month that I wrote.

I think I’m gonna go lie down. It’s fucking freezing in here! That little fuck of a bastard landlord of mine. Boy, do I ever want to hound the shit out of him!

9:52 AM

The housing people are coming on Monday, and I called Mom, who was being her usual bitchy self, and asked if she’s heard from him, which I doubted, and she hasn’t. This shit Russ is pulling is definitely tax-related, as well as raising the rent when I’m gone. But I’m gonna be here for a while, and if Russ keeps this shit up, it’s gonna cost him more money than a profit.

A few years ago, when Nellie and José pulled their crap on me by ripping me off, I brought up charges and was able to drop them over the phone after being paid back by Nellie. Well, I just tried that by calling the courthouse, saying I was Jenny, and it didn’t work, but all is still well cuz I’m not going to court.

I will not give Jenny the satisfaction of showing up for a lousy slew of prank phone calls. Jenny got exactly what she deserved, and I know lots of other people have done the same.

I haven’t heard from John R since he got fired from Mercy Hospital.

I tried calling the Laundromat where Angie works, and no one’s there now but this retard janitor. Guess they don’t open till 10:00. I’ll try again soon.

1/26/1991 Sat. 4:18 AM

Andy and I performed tonight. Neither of us won, but it was fun just the same. The audience and the judges didn’t dislike us, but we both felt we were nothing special and could’ve been better.

It amazes me how many people I know. People came up to me before the show and talked to me, and I didn’t even know who knew me from previous shows. This one guy remembered when I signed and said that was “fierce.” I saw tons of people I knew who complimented me after the show, and I was also complimented by people I didn’t know. Raven was there along with Emie, Loopie, Candy, Jasmine, Miles, W.C., Scott, Rachel, Dedra, and at least 20 or more other people I know.

I met this incredibly feminine girl named Lisa, who gave me her number, if it’s the right one. I wasn’t too impressed with her hair, which was short on top and spiked with a long tail in the back. Her body and her face were beautiful, though. She’s not bi either; she’s just gay.

Last year, though, I would have really been into her and meeting others. I used to be so eager. Now my heart’s just not in it like it used to be. There’s still a great part of me saying, “All I want now is to be alone, and I’m not even quite ready yet for a one-night stand.”

I saw three other girls who were even more gorgeous, and yes, I would do a one-nighter with them right away (one at a time, of course). One was straight, as usual. The other two were a couple, also as usual. They were so feminine, though, and each one had such nice, long, dark hair.

Also, I chatted with the cops.

10:26 AM

I broke down in tears thinking about this shit with Russ and finally said to myself that I was going to put an end to this, either the easy way or the hard way. So I called Russ and asked to speak to him. He said, “Sure,” sounding very friendly and sincere. I figured he’d more or less have nothing to say to me.

Anyway, I said to him, “How can you be so cruel and vindictive when you never were before? You’ve done me favors, such as not having me pay last month’s rent and getting me movers. So why are you so eager to see me out on the streets when you know I have nothing, no money, no family, and nowhere to go? I have never hurt anyone or anything, and I don’t know what you can say in court or if this is a tax-related thing or what. You even said so yourself that it would get cold in here when it got bitterly cold outside, and you know there have been several other tenants complaining. If you’d stop putting temperature recorders in here that say it’s a temperature it’s not, then I’ll forget about taking legal action if you’re willing to drop this and turn up the heat.”

He sounded friendly, as I said, and said he’d like to stop by and see me sometime before noon. I have no idea what he’s planning, but I’ll write about it once I know.

1/27/1991 Sun. 5:15 AM

Russ came over yesterday before noon. He asked me to write down every time it got cold and what the temperature was after putting a thermometer in each room.

He told me he was prepared for the judge to allow me to stay until October, but that he hoped it wouldn’t come down to court. There’s nothing solid or valid he could do or say in court, and I told him I would move when I’m ready to move.

Tomorrow, I’m going to call Legal Aid.

12:32 PM

I was over at Brenda and Bonny’s place, and I played them the edits I made early this morning. They’re not bad. I gave Bonny this T-shirt she liked, and she gave me a denim mini skirt. She also gave me little bulletin boards in the shape of the letters L and R. L and R can stand for Linda Ronstadt.

Kim will be here any moment for a sign language lesson.

Lisa, the girl I met at the Pub, said she’s home all the time. Well, she must have her ringer off if she did give me the right number, cuz I tried four times and there’s no answer. She’ll have to call me.

I’m starting to get a little tired. I hope Bill’s not here too long. Also, Andy needs to bring over my videotape along with his so I can record his show.

7 PM

I’ve had a great day today. Bonny and I have become pretty good friends. “It’s better than fighting,” as she said.

Andy and I had a nice visit, although the woman he’s renting from is really treating him like shit. He’s moving back in with his parents by Valentine’s Day.

Bill, Andy, and I had a nice talk, and I played them my new edition of the edits.

I’m beat, cuz I’ve been up since 2 a.m., so I should sleep quite well. I just hope that none of these fucking street animals wake me up.

1/29/1991 Tues. 8:15 AM

Yesterday I woke up feeling like shit. I was really congested. I took my asthma pill and some Dimetapp, and Brenda gave me some Anthramycin, which is an antibiotic. As long as I eat a little before taking it, it doesn’t bother my stomach.

Yesterday I woke up at 7:30 a.m. Today I woke up at 6 a.m. Nice, huh? Now, wait till I have to perform this Friday night. But my point is that even though I woke up with a coughing fit after I’d slept for four hours like I usually do, I woke up later feeling great! The antibiotic really helped with my congestion. I haven’t sneezed yet and haven’t blown my nose 5,000 times.

I’ve had half a cigarette, though, and I’m gonna do the 2–3 a day thing rather than 5–6 to really lower my nicotine level and try quitting again. Kim offered me five bucks a day if I quit. That does make it more encouraging, besides the idea of being able to breathe and sing without clearing my throat or sneezing.

Speaking of my voice, God, is it really developing! I’m really getting to be quite a good singer. It gets more and more brilliant and vibrant.

1/30/1991 Wed. 12:05 PM

Andy had better hurry up. His show starts at 1:00. If he’s not here, I’ll record it. He’s supposedly coming over with...(interrupted by phone).

2:40 PM

I was interrupted before because the phone rang, and two seconds before Andy’s show came on, he walked in. His show wasn’t on anyway because of the Gulf War update. He was pissed, and I don’t blame him, because that’s what the news hour is for. They shouldn’t keep interrupting the shows. News belongs on the news.

He’ll be here for six hours editing his tapes.

I got a call from Martha, and I am going to see her later at 4:00.

5:37 PM

I’m glad I went to therapy after all. I got a lot of shit off my chest. We basically discussed how I view myself and how others view me. I told her how and why I thought I was a quality person who may appear goofy and playful but is mature and good at knowing other people’s characters. We talked about how there are many types of people that I dislike, but I still understand why they’re the way they are.

I also discussed how I get the types that are loud, obnoxious, and desperate, or the geeky, shy types that can’t speak for themselves and aren’t firm enough when they need to be. I told her I need someone more outspoken and loving and understanding, yet as rough and as tough as they need to be.

My sister called. I told her if worst came to worst, she could check out apartments for me.

1/31/1991 Thurs. 4:33 AM

God, I am so tired. I fell asleep at 9:00, and sure enough, I woke up at 1:00 after sleeping four hours. I woke up sneezing and blowing my nose. My lungs don’t feel bad, and I’d rather wake up to sneeze and blow my nose than cough and wheeze.

Andy came over, saying he thinks he may be catching a cold, and I hope that doesn’t worsen mine, because you know how weak my immune system is.

I need to try to quit smoking again soon and also see Dr. McGovern. I need more Theodur, and I guess I’ll also discuss allergy shots. I wish I could do the natural cure by quitting smoking permanently!

Russ called tonight, sounding sincere again, saying he’d really like to resolve our dispute. I told him once again that if he’s willing to drop it, I’ll drop it, and that I surely do not plan to live here forever. I also told him that for the last three days, it hasn’t been bad in here because it’s been a little warmer outside, but as soon as it gets bitterly cold, it gets cold in here. I reminded him again that the other tenants and I wouldn’t complain for no reason, and hopefully it sank in this time, and he’ll give up his spiteful tricks. But as long as he’s going to push the eviction, I’m going to push small claims court. If anything, he owes me money that I’ve paid for the heat that was supposed to be included in my rent and that I never got.

Boy, is it ever windy out now. It sounds like someone’s screaming.

I really do need to try and go back to sleep, so first I’ll make coffee, smoke a butt, listen to a little music, and then I should be more than ready.

Tomorrow I’ve got to go to Food Fart.

Dec 1990

12/2/1990 Sun. 8:21 PM

Well, two more days and here comes a birthday I sure as hell thought I’d never see. A quarter of a century. I get smarter, more talented, and more experienced with each year, but all in all, I still feel the same as when I was 10 or 15 or 20. Despite my lungs, that is—but today I don’t feel quite so bad. Of course, it was kind of miraculous that I even made it to my 18th birthday with all the shit I went through, what with jumping out of the window, overdosing, and other people trying to kill me physically or mentally.

Well, although I won’t have my foot in the door with fame and fortune till 1994, as my vibes tell me, I have a feeling that 1991 is going to be a special year for me in a different but very good way. I’m 100% sure now about smoking, but there’s other stuff scheduled. I’m not going to be so cursed anymore. The shit that happened to my lungs wasn’t meant to be just because of my singing, but maybe it was also a testing period, too. I’ve done my time with survival tests; that’s for sure. No, I do not think 1991 brings a woman I’m infatuated with and who’s my ideal type person-wise. That was never meant to be.

12/4/1990 Tues. 9:09 AM

Do I get snow for my birthday? No. Instead, it’s raining cats and dogs out there.

About half an hour ago, Tammy called. At 7:30, Brenda called. Oh, by the way, Brenda and I are just friends now. At 5:30, Andy called because he couldn’t sleep either. I’ve been awake now for 16 hours. I need to go to Food Mart desperately, but can’t till noon, and I don’t think I can hold out till then. I just don’t feel like going to bed, though. Oh, what the heck? I’ll sleep for a few hours—not too many, because I have therapy tomorrow.

12/9/1990 Sun. 1:26 AM

Brenda and I went to Tammy’s today. I got the upright vacuum I’d been wanting from Mom and Dad, and Tammy, Bill, and the kids gave me a gorgeous necklace with matching earrings, another pair of earrings, and some perfume.

Tammy was upset because she could sense something was wrong with me, and at first, I wouldn’t talk to her. I explained how I broke up with Brenda—I’m so used to being alone that I felt I wasn’t stable enough for her. I told her that because I’m a night person, I don’t have a bigger sex drive, and I’m not calm 24/7, I felt I wasn’t good enough. Tammy said that in every relationship I get into, I run scared when someone gets too close. She also said my past has affected me badly and that I’m too negative.

I told her I didn’t feel I was pushing Brenda away and that I felt I was doing her a favor. I also said I was being practical, not negative. After being alone for 25 years, it’s too hard to jump into a relationship—I no longer care to put the effort into one and deal with trying to communicate and compromise. I never felt overwhelmed in a good way by Brenda, and I’ll never have anyone I’m overwhelmed by. What good would it do me anyway? All they’d do is dump me, or I’d end up dumping them.

Andy will be moving in within the next two weeks, so we can save money and move to Phoenix.

12/24/1990 Mon. 6:53 AM

Andy will be moving in next Saturday and storing his furniture at his old house, which his brother owns. Starting tomorrow, he’s going to be bringing things over.

Ma doesn’t know, so she’ll continue paying her part of the rent. She’s been a major bitch to me and was incredibly rude to both Andy and me over the phone when we spoke about Phoenix. She really pisses me off. Especially since last year she said she’d help financially with the move to Arizona and agreed with our reasons for moving; now she wants nothing to do with it. I bet her anger has to do with good old Miss Jennifer C and other members of this sick family, whom Andy and I harassed to death over the phone. But if I receive any subpoenas, I’m not going to court.

I have not smoked since yesterday, the 23rd, at 2:30 AM. It’s been 28½ hours.

12/30/1990 Sun. 7:30 PM

Boy, is having a roommate ever going to take some getting used to! Two or three years ago, I’d have jumped at the chance to have a good, decent, honest roommate such as Andy is. And you know how compatible and how much alike we are. Lately, though, I’ve been wanting to spend more and more time alone. The desire for company and for going places is vanishing like water running down a drain. The desire to have a lover and a baby is also being flushed down the toilet. At first, I was beginning to think something was wrong with me, but I now think it’s just a case of my not wanting any bullshit.

As far as a lover’s concerned, like with Brenda, for example, I know I’m a decent person. I don’t hate myself, but at the same time, I feel I’m not good enough for her. I don’t want to be with someone and have to be constantly asking myself, "Did I do or say something wrong?” Also, I don’t want to have to worry about her or anyone else not understanding me. I know and understand myself, and that’s enough. What others don’t know or understand won’t hurt them. All I want is casual sex here and there. Of course, that’ll be once in a lifetime cuz I’m so picky and don’t go to bars, and cuz there are so few feminine ones. I have my fantasies, though, which are the most fulfilling.

12/31/1990 Mon. 12:08 PM

I fell asleep near 6:00 this morning, only to wake up at 10:00, so I do need to try to sleep more.

Also, I’m psyched for New Year’s Eve tonight, as I realize I’ve got three more years till fame and fortune, and you know I’m right with my premonitions and predictions. Speaking of those, I’ve been having more and more—bizarre ones too, that kind of freaked me out a bit. One night, Brenda and I were lying in bed when I just came out and said, “Someone lost money.” She said yes, a guy in CVS. I said it was a $20 bill, and she said yes, it was, and a lady picked it up for him.

Another thing was that a few days before December, I predicted we’d have a major snowstorm on December 28th. I was right.

Nov 1990

11/2/1990 Fri. 6:05 AM

Yesterday was awful. I was so pissed at Russ. For the last five mornings, during the wee hours, it was freezing. Later, between 7:00 and 11:00, it would turn into a sauna. I woke up for two reasons: the fucking radiator in the kitchen would clank so loud you could probably hear it downtown, and I’d have major asthma attacks because of it. It would get so hot in here that my windows would be wet. I yelled on Russ’s machine, asking what it was going to take for the heat to be evened out, and he stopped by to adjust the thermostat. If this happens continuously, I’ll make partial rent payments, and if he fights it, he’ll wish partial rent problems were the only problems he’s had with me. Otherwise, he’s a nice guy and the best landlord I’ve ever had. He doesn’t do this deliberately; he just has no brains when it comes to heating.

Today, later on, I’m definitely going to get the fuck out of this apartment. Where to, I do not know, but I’ve got to get out.

11/6/1990 Tues. 3:18 AM

I fell asleep shortly after 11 PM, after watching the Tai Babilonia story. At 1:45, I woke up for no reason at all. At least it wasn’t an asthma attack like yesterday morning and several mornings before. I feel much better now, and over the last five days, I’ve had only 4–6 cigarettes.

Soon, I’m going to try to go back to sleep so I can join Andy on his job-hunting trips—not for me, but for him, and it’ll get me out of the apartment.

I’d like to sleep with Shadow, but he keeps waking me up.

I had a great visit with Tammy and the kids, and also a great day with Brenda. Sarah’s adorable, and she has so much hair on her head. Everyone in the family was born with lots of hair.

John came over for a half-hour tonight and met Brenda and Bill.

Oh, I wish I knew my test scores! I want so badly to go to the academy. I suppose, though, I won’t be going for whatever reason, because I want it badly. Of course, that is, until I can get anything going musically.

11/11/1990 Sun. 5:22 AM

Well, I’m not going to be sleeping for a hell of a long time. I didn’t get up yesterday until 9 PM. I had woken up in the early afternoon but felt like shit, so I went back to sleep. Not too much has happened since I last wrote. I’ve done some pretty nice drawings, been pissed at Russ because he turns the heat off from 11 PM–6 AM, been a little depressed from being cooped up at home and wanting to sing, and been frustrated and scared over my bronchitis.

11/14/1990 Wed. 10:45 AM

I am waiting to have my hair trimmed at Hair Performance by Linda. My top layer is incredibly fried, and I also need my bangs trimmed.

Brenda is very sick today, so I’m going to Martha by bus, and it is incredibly freezing out!

11/29/1990 Thurs. 7:39 AM

I haven't written in a while, which I sometimes don’t. The last thing I wrote about was getting my hair trimmed. Linda trimmed my bangs and my top layer. My top layer was—and still is—pretty much fried with split ends. I have split ends everywhere. She was shocked at the weight I’ve lost and how long my hair has gotten. I hadn’t seen her in about three years. Linda hasn’t seen me at my skinniest, though, since I’ve gained eight pounds. Funny thing is, it looks like I gained double—16 pounds—of course, that’s because I’m so short. I no longer despise being short, as I’ve realized the many advantages to it as I’ve gotten older.

Andy’s here now, asleep. He came over two nights ago, too. We made some calls this time. Last night we played Crazy 8s, which we haven’t done since we were kids at the beach. We also played the piano.

I’ll write later, as I’m exhausted. For the last two months or so, I’ve been sleeping at night, but I was up all night because I slept too many hours yesterday.

Oct 1990

10/1/1990 Mon. 2:50 AM

My mother said something astounding. Not only was I shocked, but I also shed a few tears. I called Mom and told her that I bought a tiny fork and spoon for Sarah and socks for Becky and Lisa. Then I told her that I agreed about having money and someone to help if I were to have a baby. But I also told her I didn’t like being told what I should or shouldn’t do at this age.

So I finally asked the two questions that concerned me most, in blunt, plain English. I said, “If I have a child someday, are you going to disown me or call the state?”

She said no. I freaked out with shock and joy. I absolutely and totally could not believe it.

Otherwise, no news lately, just that I had a very nice weekend with Brenda and also Gail and Judy. Gail and Judy are so nice—you feel as if you’ve known them for years. They, of course, don’t turn me on, but they’re very attracted to me, so I hear. It’s obvious by the way they look at me. Same thing with Bonny. I did their nails for them, and a couple of weekends ago, Brenda, Judy, Gail, and I went to Jam’s. We had fun, and I ran into Tracy there, who said she had broken up with Nancy. I guess Nancy was an alcoholic and a troublemaker. She seemed a little irritated talking to me and left with another girl who seemed slightly offended when I asked if she was single.

Tracy said she was in California on the 4th of July and was shocked at how feminine the gay women were there. That’s what she likes, too.

She also told me to leave a message with my number at the dentist’s office where she works on Maple St., but should I really leave a message that I seriously doubt will ever get answered?

My friendship with Andy has been excellent over the last several months. He admitted he was being cruel and selfish for a while, then realized it and didn’t want to lose me as his friend. He was also jealous of my looks and abilities, but instead of being negative, he’s encouraging and appreciative of what I do.

It’s too bad his relationship with Miles isn’t going well. According to Andy, Miles is too clingy and constantly wants sex. Also, because Andy didn’t give Miles sex for two days, Miles cheated on him. Andy’s pissed and is on the verge of dumping him. He says he thinks Miles is the way he is because his father molested him. Also, Miles has a big mouth and blabbed some sexual stuff about him, and Andy really loudly, in Friendly’s. He talks ten times more like a fem than Andy does.

Tomorrow I want to go see Paula and get something for Brenda, but I still can’t sleep, and it’s now 3:17 AM. I was beat before. Sometimes life as a night owl sucks.

10/4/1990 Thurs. 11:16 PM

Right now I’m on the phone listening to Fran talk to Bobbie. Andy and I wish to hell Tracy would call us.

I’m turning into a very, very slightly okay artist. Of course, some of my drawings are a little explicit. Guess what that means? I’ve been so fucking horny lately.

10/5/1990 Fri. 3:43 AM

Gee, I have exactly one day short of two months until I turn 25—a quarter of a century.

My new little kitten, which Brenda got me, is sitting here in bed with me, and he's so loving and affectionate. The one thing you couldn't do with Sasha was pick her up and cuddle her, or have her come to you and let you cuddle her for more than three seconds. His name is Bandit. He's now trying to distract me from writing by rubbing against my book and me and giving me kisses. He's fairly gentle with his claws, but when he gets a little older, I'd like to get him neutered and declawed. I hate getting clawed while playing. I mean, they can just sit or stand on you, but their claws hurt like hell. Now he's playing with my hair, which all kittens, cats, and babies seem to love.

Brenda's cab broke down yesterday afternoon, and while she was at the office, the owner's wife happened to be giving away kittens. That's how I got him, the day after Brenda's birthday. He's six weeks old and looks a lot like Sasha, but Sasha was gray and white. Bandit is orange and white, with slightly shorter hair. It's the same pattern as Sasha’s, and I think they’re both tabby cats. He's so loving and follows me everywhere. He's calm and gentle, and he knows how to pee in his litter box, though he still has to learn not to go on furniture or chew wires.

I’ve had absolutely no sneezing fits! And this cat is here to stay till death do us part. My mom was right about all my problems being due to smoking, and I’ve known it for some time, but it was too scary to admit. Dealing with withdrawal is terrifying, and my congestion is getting bad, so I’ve only had seven or eight cigarettes today.

The pigs were a little jealous and depressed about Bandit, but otherwise, they’re still the usual loving troublemakers.

I bought Brenda a pair of earrings and some sexy underwear for her birthday, and we went to her sister Donna’s house in Palmer. I’ve known her husband Kevin for four years, and he knew Crystal, too.

Donna's a great person, someone you feel comfortable talking to about almost anything, and who accepts people as they are. The kids were great too, and I’d have loved to have someone like her as my mother.

Tomorrow, I have to call John R, maybe try leaving a message with Dr. Goodman's receptionist for Tracy—just once. I also have to call Philip and go to Food Mart. I wonder if Kathy will fix my bangs if I call her. She works at Food Mart, gave me her number, and we went to La Baron together. She hated it too and only does it on the side. My bangs look pretty stupid, so maybe she can trim and layer them.

10/6/1990 Sat. 3:15 AM

Yesterday, I only smoked seven or eight cigarettes. Today, even though I still slept until 9:00 p.m., I’ve had three so far. I am very, very congested, which is part of the reason I’ve smoked so little. Also, I’m having sneezing fits and wheezing. In 48 hours, I’ve smoked only 11 cigarettes, which is why I’m constantly blowing my nose like there’s no tomorrow. It gets worse before it gets better after you either quit or cut down, because all that tar and gunk start draining.

10/7/1990 Sun. 4:06 AM

Tracy called Andy and me last night. We were both thrilled to hear from her. I played her the edits, which she thought were great. She said she hadn’t contacted us because she needed space and time to sort things out.

Last night was awful. I was so full of congestion. I never knew one could have to blow their nose so much. It’s red and sore now, and I feel much better now that I've drained out all that shit, so I guess it was worth the misery. Tomorrow—or today, I should say—Bill will be here at 1:00, so I hope I can get a little sleep. I had to sleep all day today because I was so miserable. It’s called “sleeping it off.” I’m thankful I feel much better, though, and also thankful it wasn’t the flu. Anything but the flu. Smoking very little also helped get rid of it quicker, but I couldn’t have smoked much even if I wanted to. The funny thing is, though, the last three days I really haven’t had much of a desire to smoke. Today I had five or six, and psychologically I still think of it, but the physical part isn’t too bad.

I love this little kitty of mine to death. I’m so glad Brenda got him for me.

10/12/1990 Fri. noon

It’s been one week now, and I still feel like shit. Oh well. It also looks like I’m going to have to cancel going to my sister’s tomorrow. One reason is that I feel like shit, and the other is that it’s contagious. I don’t want to stand and just look at my nieces from three feet away; I want to hold them and hug them. Tammy mentioned going next weekend if I couldn’t make it this time.

Then I’ll be seeing Mom and Dad on the 15th, and it fucking figures I’m sick, so I can’t sing.

Yesterday I got three journals at an excellent price. I mean, a really fantastic deal. Normally, the three of them would’ve cost close to $24, but I got them for $12 in the secondhand department. I’m glad I discovered that they sell them there, which is weird because these books are brand new and just as nice as the regular main part of the store.

10/22/1990 Mon. 1:44 AM

I was exhausted before, but as usual, I woke right up. Man, oh man, I just went through a hell of a nightmare since the last time I wrote! I had to go to the ER three fucking times, and I was terrified! I literally thought I was going to die, and it hurt so bad I wished I would drop dead until it was over. I had the worst asthma of my life. They had to take me immediately (usually you wait forever) to give me oxygen treatments, and last time I had an IV. It was really scary. I could only smoke three cigarettes in one week. I'm on Prednisone for 12 days and Bactrim, which is an antibiotic, for 10 days. Also, I'm on Theodur and Alupent, which are the same stuff as in my inhaler. Theodur and Alupent are the two most common drugs used for asthma.

I saw Mom and Dad on the 15th, and we had a fairly good visit. They came up for about an hour or so. They're back in Florida now.

I may be going to my sister's this Saturday. Tammy's really sick now, too.

Steve and I spliced a wire today so I can edit from the CD player onto the stereo, and it sounds great, too. I have plenty of editing to do, as well as story writing.

They raised my food stamps to $114, so I did a huge grocery order, and I never had so much food in my life, but I really need to lose weight. I'm getting pretty chunky lately.

10/23/1990 Tues. 8:20 PM

Brenda brushed out my hair for me, and God, it’s getting long. It’s almost to my very lower back, and the layers are growing out. The very top layer, though, is destroyed. I have massive split ends.

Shadow’s climbing all over me. I changed his name from Bandit to Shadow. He’s like glue. He loves to be near me constantly and follows me everywhere like a shadow. However, when I go to bed, I shut the bedroom door because he always wakes me up.

One thing that’s starting to annoy me is that I’m very bloated. I want to hurry up and get my period, so I'll drink some water. I don’t want to take my water pill while I’m still finishing up my other medications. I did some exercise, and I’m going to do more later. Also, I’m going to get more Slim-Fast and eat very little until I drop 10 pounds. It’s funny to say I’m chunky at 105 pounds, but then again, I am very short. It’s not that I weigh too much pound-wise—it’s my shape, I guess. I have so much water, too.

I took all my pictures of Gloria down last night. There are only a few in the bedroom. I wanted a change and a break from them, so I put them in my file box in my closet. I’ll never throw them out because I’ve put so much time and money into them, and it’ll be really neat to look back at them someday. Maybe I’ll put them back up in a matter of months or someday. I still wish I could afford a duplex; I’d make the cellar the music place with the posters, stereo, and keyboards, and I wish I had a washer and dryer. By God, I’d love to be able to afford that. I’d have two bedrooms, one and a half baths, and a dishwasher too, no doubt.

10 PM

I’m now watching the premiere of Law & Order. Before this, I saw In the Heat of the Night. Brenda left after Matlock. I put Brenda’s hair in a braid—it looked nice.

I still haven’t received any notification about the police exam. I’m not stupid, though; they’ll never notify me worth shit.

I’m going to make some angel hair pasta. It’s so good.

10/24/1990 Wed. 3:20 AM

Well, I’m going to need to go to sleep as soon as possible, so to help myself, I’m going to listen to music for a while.

Tomorrow morning, I have to call Philip about fixing my stereo. I can’t put it off any longer.

Also, I see Martha at 4:00. I’m not sure if I mentioned it, but I think she might have a thing for me. It’s just this feeling I get, and it’s also certain things she says and the way she says them. Oh well. Of course, I’ll keep my mouth shut about it. She is married, after all, and she also swore she never mixes business with pleasure, which I respect.

I want to go to Caldor’s too, to see if Gloria’s new album is out. I’m not sure of the name of it, and they’re not new songs—just old hits—but they’re all in Spanish.

11:36 PM

I just finished killing a spider, which, like most spiders, was on the ceiling. I sprayed it with lots of Lysol and perfume to get it down so I could swat it.

Today, I got this awesome—and I mean totally awesome—speakerphone I ordered last week. Now I need to make four payments of $22, but it’s worth it. I love it. I can be doing something like writing or making coffee and still talking to someone. I can also play the edits to people so they can hear them well, and I can hear their reactions, and if it’s an answering machine, I can hear it beep when it ends. Another thing: if my call-waiting beeps, I’ll hear that too.

This insurance company has a hell of a long answering machine message. Brenda and I passed it on the way home from Baystate Waste after I saw Martha, and I said to myself, “I bet they have a machine.”

By the way, Martha definitely has no desire for a woman. She’s 100% straight as an arrow.

Andy’s got company now, so he’s going to call me later, and Fran’s not home. I’m bored, and I love this phone, so I may as well have a field day with it and look up insurance companies in the Yellow Pages. It seems like a lot of insurance companies have answering machines.

10/25/1990 Thurs. 2:07 AM

I’m still wide awake and probably will be for a while. I’m just having a grand old time with the new phone. There’s a mute button on it too, and you don’t need to keep holding it down like on most other phones. You hit it once, and a red light glows to show it’s in use; to turn off the mute, you hit it again, and the red light goes off.

A little while ago, I listened to the 45 of Take a Chance on Me by ABBA. I bought it today at One Stop Records. I’ve always liked that song and used to have that record. I don’t know what happened to it, along with tons of other records. They either got old, I got sick of them, or they were stolen.

2:53 AM

Why, oh, why didn’t I stay the fuck off cigarettes?! I had three cigarettes in one week, and now I smoked a whole pack yesterday, and today I’ve had close to a pack. What a jerk, huh? I’m going to chuck the rest of my pack, try again until I absolutely can’t fight the urge to smoke, and listen to music.

10/26/1990 Fri. 2:32 AM

I’m going nuts just sitting around here, so since I can’t have music, I’ve got to find something. Those dickheads never sent me my notice for the police exam, but I figured as much from the start. I don’t know who’s responsible, so I don’t know who to call to bitch about it. Oh well—like I said, I figured I’d never be notified, just like I knew I’d never get that security job at Mercy with John.

Why is it that anything I’d be good at and want to do, I just can’t? It wasn’t meant to be. If I were smart, a long time ago I’d have chosen a career I hate, never wanted to have a baby, and, if I were ever single again, I’d pick all the ones I don’t want, or that are just okay. Actually, they pick me, so I should say.

9:53 AM

I tried calling Philip about the stereo, but he’s not at work and isn’t answering his phone at home.

Today, I’m going to Food Mart for cat food, stamps, and paper plates. I also want to go to Brightwood Hardware in Longmeadow for pig and mouse food.

I’m getting tired as hell, but I want to push it as far as I can so I can sleep somewhat into the night. With my luck, however, after three or four hours of sleep, I’ll bolt wide awake and not be able to fall back asleep.

I’m really starting to want to work. I need extra money, and this being at home all the time is really getting to me. But since I can’t sing or be a cop and am too chicken to drive a cab, what can I do other than work at McDonald’s or something really boring and stupid?

I’m going to call the apartment rental people for general information about duplexes. I know I can never afford it, but it never hurts to get some information. I’ll go get the Yellow Pages.

10/27/1990 Sat. 2:50 AM

I fell asleep at 5:30 PM after being up for 21½ hours, and of course, almost an hour ago, I woke right up. I was kind of hoping I’d sleep till 5 AM. Anyway, guess what I’m doing today at 9 AM? Taking the police exam. I called Boston after talking to Tony today, out here on Locust St., during a car accident. He said the people weren’t hurt too badly and that it had to do with insurance, and he was tired of supporting the welfare recipients. So I mentioned the exam to him and some other cop, and they said the test might have been canceled due to all the layoffs and suggested I call Boston to check. When I called, I told the woman I never received my notice. She said they’d had trouble with their mailings and asked for my Social Security number. I gave it to her, and she read back my name and address and said it was tomorrow at 9 AM at Converse High on State St. They allow three hours for the test, but you’re free to leave when you’re done. There are 100 questions, which means I cannot get more than 30 wrong. She said it’ll be 120 days before they mail my marks—that’s four months—and around 2,000 people are taking the test. She also said to bring a birth certificate, a photo ID, and some number 2 pencils. Brenda took me to Shopper’s Drug, where she met Emily, and Emily gave me the pencils. I bought them, of course, along with a pack of cigarettes like a jerk.

I was going to go to Tammy’s tomorrow, but Brenda’s got a visit with her kids she can’t cancel, and Bill’s here tomorrow and Monday. Maybe Tuesday. Tammy’s going to be pissed, and I understand that—I’m dying to see Sarah, but this test only comes up once every two years.

5:09 AM

It definitely doesn’t look like I’m going back to sleep, so I’ll write for a while. I’ve got a CD playing: Fleetwood Mac’s Greatest Hits. It’s pretty good; I like most of the songs, though some are boring.

Tomorrow, after the test, I still need to get pig food and a heavyweight bowl for Tigger. I’m getting pretty sick of him either knocking it over or slamming it against the side of his cage. I also need food for Gremlin and Shadow, plus stamps and paper plates. It’s also about time to buy another big bale of sawdust. There’s always something to buy, such as Gloria’s new record.

I think maybe I’ll hem some more of those pants Kacey gave me.

6:06 AM

Well, I didn’t hem the pants—one pair didn’t quite fit since I gained weight—but I did take my measurements and found I’ve gone down an inch since three days ago when I started exercising hard and taking Slim-Fast. I hemmed an old shirt that was almost to my ankles, bringing it up to mid-thigh. It came out better than I thought, but I’ll have Brenda check it to make sure it’s not crooked. I’m not too thrilled with the way it falls, but I’ll ask Brenda.

After my shower, I’ll put on another coat of nail polish and decide what to wear—something casual. I hope after the test and errands, I can catch a couple of hours of sleep so I can go to the Halloween party at the Pub tonight. I want to wear my new black lace skirt. Part of me hopes Brenda ends up too tired to go, so I can observe others without her observing me observe them. But then again, we mutually look at other women and are honest with each other. In the long run, Brenda will never have anything to worry about because gay women are a major turn-off to me in general, and it’s against the rules for me to be attracted to someone. Oh well. At least God allows people to be attracted to me, which is nice as long as they’re not major sickos. As time goes on, I’m having an easier time encountering better people, even if I don’t quite meet my desired standards.

Okay, time for my second coffee, then my shower.

3:20 PM

Brenda dropped me off at 8:30 this morning, and they made everyone who didn’t get their notice go into a room. They gave us an “appear” card after checking our names against the list, and they checked our photo IDs and birth certificates, which I need to photocopy and mail to Boston.

We had to print and sign our names, which they compared with our signatures on our licenses.

There were several butches there, and I got stared down by guys and butches alike. A Hispanic girl sat next to me. I’m not sure, but I think she was gay from the huge smile and wave she gave me as I walked in. We chatted here and there before the test. She urged me to choose South Hadley for one of my four choices of cities or towns to work in. My first choice was Springfield, but I had no choice because I had to pick where I’ve lived for the last 12 months. My second choice was East Longmeadow. I would’ve chosen Longmeadow, but it wasn’t listed. My third choice was West Springfield. My fourth choice was Chicopee.

There were two classroom monitors, one man and one woman. The woman constantly stared at me; I caught her once, and her face turned bright red. After the test, as I was leaving, I could see her grinning to herself with the same red face.

We didn’t start the test until 9:30, and I finished at almost 12:30. I’m not sure whether I passed or failed. Some tricky questions had me going over and over them. I’ll know sometime in February. I’m anxious and have never wanted time to speed up so badly in my life. I usually don’t care about time or wish I could stop it and drop dead.

The landlord will be here any minute to fix the heat. Today and all last night, I froze my ass off.

I told Tammy I’d be down next weekend; she said she wasn’t mad, understood, and told me to think positively about the test.

After the landlord leaves, I hope to catch a few hours of sleep so I can go out tonight.

I called Philip and told him about the test; he’s happy and asked me to keep him posted. He also told me to call him tomorrow. I called John too, and he was pleased and proud. Lastly, I spoke with Andy.

10/30/1990 Tues. 4:41 AM

I wish I were just waking up, but instead, I’m wide awake. I slept until 6 PM. I’ve been so zonked out because I’ve had to be up at a certain time for specific reasons and wasn’t getting enough hours of sleep.

I have many errands to do, such as buying pig and cat food. I also need a bale of sawdust, stamps, and to make a photocopy of my birth certificate.

The mouse, who’s getting bigger, is now riding his wheel, and Shadow is growing so fast.

Andy came over earlier, and we made some phone calls to people who had ads in the Advocate to sell things.

Andy’s really upset. He’s having trouble with Miles, needs to find a job, needs to pay bills, and got in a car accident that he’s going to have to pay almost $1,000 to fix. It’s not fair—a drunken girl, who did get arrested, slammed into a parked car, then Andy slammed into her, yet Andy’s at fault. He was wearing his seatbelt, and the scary thing is, if I had been in the car, I probably wouldn’t have had my seatbelt on and could’ve gone through the windshield. Who knows how many stitches I’d have needed in my face? There are so many terrible drivers—it’s amazing and very scary.

I’m so pissed at myself because I just remembered I was supposed to call Philip and John three days ago and see Paula.

5:33 AM

I’m writing here on the waterbed. I put the mouse on the floor inside his plastic ball, and Shadow is having a hell of a time watching him and wishing so desperately to play with him—or eat him. It’s quite a funny sight to see him running around with Shadow chasing him. It was also cute when Shadow sat in Toffee’s cage. He doesn’t want to harm the other animals, but he might accidentally, since his playing can be too rough because he claws and bites.

Those drawings I did really blew my mind. I never could draw a line on paper before, and I feel good yet weird. It’s like—what’s next? I discover one thing after another that I can do. If not perfectly, then better than most.

Here comes Shadow again, checking on Gremlin after he took a dump in his box.

Andy and I may go to an audition together early this evening, so I hope I get some sleep before then. Right now, I’m going to listen to music. I haven’t listened at all today. After that, hopefully I’ll get some sleep, wake up early in the afternoon, get my errands done, call John and Philip, and maybe even see Paula.

10/31/1990 Wed. 2:04 AM

I deliberately slept until 8:30 this evening since Andy and I couldn’t audition—he’s without a car until it’s fixed. Brenda’s also without a car, but tomorrow morning at 7:00, she and Kevin are going to pick up a car a guy is selling for $600. I made myself sleep long and late to reverse my schedule for a week or so; after that, it’ll go back to nights until I want or need to reverse it again.

I’ll tape Unsolved Mysteries, but I’ll have to miss Hunter. I’m also going to cancel Martha.

Early in the morning, Brenda’s going to call so I can get stamps to mail my mail, which is all set and ready. She’ll also take me to Food Mart, and when she brings me home, I’ll do laundry.

Tonight, I finished putting up my pictures in a different way, and it looks really nice. I also changed the cat box and swept the kitchen floor. After I finish my tea, I’ll listen to some music and do some drawing.

8:30 AM

John isn’t working today. I also tried to get a hold of Dr. Statz, but she’s on vacation for a couple of weeks, I guess. One of the three times I was in the ER, she treated me. I’m 100% sure the male nurse working with her was gay, and I’m about 85% sure she was too. I was totally touched by her—it was weird because she wasn’t overly attractive. There was just something about her. Like Linda’s song goes: it’s not that you’re attractive, but my heart grew active when you came into view. I had a crush on her. Sweetie pie.

Ever since then, I haven’t forgotten her. I can hear God saying, “Uh-uh, against the rules.” I think He wants me with someone less attractive so I can focus on personality. But I’d never be with Brenda if she were a bad person. Maybe another reason God has is that if I get dumped, I won’t be hurt as much. I still long for someone with the character and personality I desire and to feel that once-in-a-lifetime sexual spark.

Please, God, please! Answer my prayers. Do it someday, very soon. God, what if I made a deal with You right here in this book? If I promise to try my hardest to quit smoking, will you think about it? Also, a beginning break with my singing, then I’ll pursue it from there. I hope you give serious consideration to my requests. If singing, having that special person, and a baby is too much to ask, I’ll understand. I’ll settle for singing and the special person only and give up the baby without asking for anything else.

4:33 PM

Around 9:00 this morning, Kevin and Brenda came and got me and dropped me off at Food Mart. I waited a long, exhausting time while Brenda brought Kevin to Palmer and back to pick me up. After that, she brought me to Shopper’s, where I got a photocopy of my birth certificate and stamps for my mail, which I mailed in the box outside the store.

While waiting for Brenda at Food Mart, I saw Allison. We spoke briefly, and she said she’d give me a call soon.

All my errands are done except for Friday, when I’ll get more food for the pigs and their big bale of sawdust. I still need to call Philip and John, and tomorrow I’m definitely going to see Paula. Jessie’s probably going to call today, too—she’s another person I need to see, and she and Brenda can meet each other.

I finally got back home at 10:30 this morning and fell asleep until 3:30. I’m exhausted, but I’ll stay awake so that at 11:00 tonight, after Hunter, I can go to sleep. I'd better not wake up at 3:00 AM and be unable to fall back asleep until 6:00 or 7:00 AM, then sleep until mid-late afternoon. I want to be up in the mornings from tomorrow until next Tuesday, for the next five mornings.

11:06 PM

When I got up, I made a pork chop and some angel hair pasta and got a call from my sister. Tammy said Mom told her, “I don’t want Jodi alone for her birthday, Chanukah, or Thanksgiving.” Tammy also said Mom told her to drive in and get me in the morning and bring me back the next day. Tammy tried to explain that it’s impossible with three kids, the business, and Bill working until 6:30 PM. Then Tammy said Mom pulled her typical line: “Good-bye, Tammy.”

I guess Mom fails to remember that I’m not alone, I’m not single anymore, and my girlfriend is fully willing to drive me down this Saturday—and for Thanksgiving and my birthday and Chanukah, which Tammy says she’ll combine into one big party. Tammy’s right—she can’t just go and drive that amount of time. It’s strange why Mom’s so concerned about me not being alone for all these things.

I’ve spent holidays alone before, but when your own aunt and uncle invite you over like they did last year and then forget to call and pick you up, that’s not my fault.

Another case of taking the bad with the good. Fuck that.