May 1991

5/1/1991 Wed. 8:53 PM

Kim, Mark, and I went to Hampden Beach today, and I got only a little bit of color. I would’ve gotten tons of color if we’d left earlier and if it were warmer. Mom was right about saying it gets easier to tan as you get older. Despite the bees, which I hate to death, I’d like to lie out in the parking lot tomorrow, but they predict rain. When we left here, it was damp and foggy, and at the beach, it was so chilly that I got to the point where I needed to put my shirt on. I was still cold after I did that, too.

Before we left, I had an appointment with my asthma doctor, and he also agreed that I’m getting much better. I was so incredibly tired today, as I had only two hours of sleep when I got up this morning. I also slept an hour and a half in the backseat on the way back home. I hate long rides, and man, did it seem like forever getting there and back. Surprisingly enough, though, my schedule’s been fairly normal since I moved here.

I can breathe so much better, and my skin looks better too. I no longer wake up so congested, and I don’t get one cold after another anymore. Because of my lack of sleep, I figured I could catch up, but I can’t yet.

There’s a fitness center next door, and a woman from this place left a message while I recorded Unsolved Mysteries and tried to sleep. I’ll wait for her to call back, as she said she would.

Now, for a quick update on what’s gone on since I last wrote:

1. Andy’s moving into his new apartment today.

2. I got a musical mobile from Kim, which her grandmother gave her—quarter notes, eighth notes, and G-clefs hang from it.

3. Kim also bought me a beautiful spring jacket, a dress, and a bracelet.

4. I went skating with my new roller skates, and what a grip! They feel and handle the rink like heaven.

5. That girl at the mall, whom I “felt” was gay, never called about the signing lessons she wanted. She was so flattered when I told her how nice her figure was!

6. That cop with information for me never called Kim.

7. That guy Kim and I spoke to who works at Food Fart in Greenfield never called about band information.

8. God never failed to have that guy who hit on me at the skating rink call twice. He got the machine, though.

9. That cop Jamie’s real name is Laurie. I called her at home one night, and her voice sounded deeper than I remembered, and she was a snotty bitch, denying she was gay. Although she tried her best, she never got any information connecting my call to Kim or me.

5/4/1991 Sat. 11:43 PM

I am currently on Kim’s bed, and we are both writing in our journals. She says she’s been inspired to write by me.

Earlier, I spoke with both Tammy and Mom, and I guess Dad’s not doing too well. They’re gonna keep me posted. I also spoke with Tony, whom I met while roller skating.

Yesterday I had a wicked bad day with horrible cramps. It went on and on for hours until I fell asleep. I shit my ass off and threw up twice.

I lost a couple of pounds. I usually weigh between 97 and 100. My measurements are as follows:

• Waist – 26

• Thighs – 21½

• Bust – 32½

• Hips – 33½

• Lower gut – 29

Andy left a message two days ago saying he wasn’t moving till June 1st, rather than May 1st.

I also called that guy Kim and I met at Food Fart about bands. He gave my number to two bands that he says are drug-free. One’s called The Radiators, which makes you think of a football team. The other one’s called Free Press, which reminds you of a magazine or newspaper publishing company.

Since I’ve been here, I’ve gotten quite a bit of editing done, but I think I’ll go listen to music now, then go to bed.

5/6/1991 Mon. 6:49 AM

Boy, sometimes I really feel like a complete waste product. Not only is the past depressing to think about, but the future is, too. The future is depressing and a bit scary. If I never become a singer or have a child or a woman (first best), what will my life be about? Will I be on SS forever?

I know I’ll never have the last two things mentioned above in my last paragraph, as I know the difference between fantasy and a vision. For example, when I think of a woman, it’s a fantasy, cuz I know it’s not meant to be.

As far as singing goes, I know it’d be easier to say “fuck it” and settle for some stupid job I hate. I feel helpless, and like I’ll never get anywhere with it, but the vision just won’t go away. When I picture myself as a singer—performing, rehearsals, traveling, studios, interviews, Grammys—it just seems so real and so natural. I’m already 25 now, and I feel like my voice isn’t a gift I can use. It’s more like a curse and a tease to me now, even though I’d never stop singing. Could I ever make it by being poor, anti-drugs, and by having no car, no money, no sex, and with all the fears and lack of trust I have in people?

I know these bands, Free Press and The Radiators, will never call me. If they did, they’d turn me down cuz I have no car, no experience, or maybe I’m not the type of singer or person they’re looking for. As I said before, some people get everything or some things they want, but I’ve never been granted one wish. I mean a major wish—a wish that really, really matters. Yes, I have made more personal growth than I expected. Yes, I have gotten more of a voice and other abilities than I expected. Yes, I’ve moved to a great apartment in a nice town, but should I give up? Is it now really time to give in to a job I hate? A nothing, nobody job?

5/15/1991 Wed. 1 AM

I’ve read back in my first few journals and found not only that I’ve changed so much (which I already knew), but that I’m not as good at spelling as I thought. Also, my punctuation is poor, which I still rarely do correctly. What I noticed most importantly is the lack of detail pertaining to certain events, people, or places. For example, in my first book, the first thing I mentioned about Nervous was, “Nervous is coming over soon.” I never wrote about how we met, where, who he is, or how he got his nickname—although that’s quite obvious after reading not even one page about him.

What I’m going to do now is go back over the basics of life since I moved out on my own. That was December 3rd, 1985, the day before I turned 20. I’ll run through it as briefly as possible, but with all the essential details. It’ll be quite fun and adventurous, even though I’d never want to relive it. It’ll make me laugh, which is good, as a reminder of how far I’ve come in life—how much I’ve grown and learned due to experience and, of course, my sixth sense. As you know, I’ve been a victim of everything except child molestation as a kid. My parents weren’t alkies or druggies, and neither was I. I, of course, experimented, but by that time, I had tripped.

Some of these people have been friends, lovers, neighbors, or roommates. No person I’ve slept with—whether it was just one night—has been left out, but many names of non-importance have been omitted.

I think it was around February of 1985 when I was hired at the Harley Hotel as a housekeeper. I’d had other jobs that I quit. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m sick of second best.

On December 3rd, 1985, the day before I turned 20, I moved out on my own to the first floor of Locust St. I still worked at the Harley, where, 2–3 months later, I took in a 17-year-old girl named Michelle. She wanted out of her home fast, as she said she had been molested by her father. We got along okay until she met my brother Larry. It started as Larry and I having problems, with him getting in the way of Michelle and me having a good friendship. He was also cheating on his wife, Sandy, with Michelle. Finally, I just wanted to be alone, and to get rid of him, I had to get rid of her. She went to live with Larry and Sandy.

Shortly after I moved upstairs, around the corner on Woodside with the same landlords, I never saw them again. A few months after I kicked Michelle out, I was fired from the Harley. After suppressing my past, the impact finally caught up with me. It all came out very hard and got in the way of my job.

A few months later, Dad got me on SS and SSI and secured a back payment of $6,100. According to him, my disability checks were terminated when I was 18, which they shouldn’t have been. Of course, Dad lies by saying it’s because of my ear. Even back then, when I was gullible, I knew it was because I’m supposed to be a “nut head”—an unbalanced joke of society. In a way, I was, but my version is different from theirs.

I don’t know the exact date, but it was late May of 1986 when someone began knocking on my bedroom window very late at night. I believe my brother was behind it. At first, I was scared, then I became furious. One night, I vowed not to give this bastard the reaction he wanted, and due to my fury, I planned to wait outside my bedroom window just before what would have been his third visit. I think it was his third. Right after the first incident, I told Larry and John, the owners at the time, who had an apartment available on the 4th floor around the corner. I freaked when I saw it—it was so big and so much nicer, I had to have it.

Even though I forgot about the sicko’s visit and moved up right away, I knew from then on I’d never cower to anyone again. I learned that if you show fear to any kind of troublemaker, or are naïve or vulnerable, you’ll be taken advantage of. I moved up there with the help of Jenny, Jim, and a friend of Jim’s.

Right after that, I met Nancy next door. I also met Emily, who lived down the street in a building owned by the same brothers. I became friends with an old couple on the 2nd floor, Jo and Eddy. Jo was always sweet and sincere, but Eddy went out of his mind due to Alzheimer’s. I met a girl named Mary, a few buildings down, who had a young son. Whenever I could, I helped her with food or gave her things I didn’t want or need.

Jenny and I had been friends since I was 9 and she was 10. Jim was her boyfriend.

At this time, I had discussed being gay only with my brother and my therapist, but I wouldn’t act on it for a while. I was too young to know about gay bars and all the other stuff I know now. All I knew was that I’d always been attracted to women, but I’d take whatever I could get for a while. Jenny also told me her sister Robin was gay, and I found out Shelly was too. Shelly is the daughter of my mom’s best friend, Charlotte. They go back way before Larry was even born.

I met Ron in July 1986. He was okay at first, then changed, as most people do. He was never brutal, as he knew just what I’d do to people like that and was patient in bed. The sex was boring, and all the while he was “down there,” I continued to fantasize about women. It took three months or so before he could get inside me without pain, and he was small too—only 4" hard. His goal was to be married and have kids, and when we went over to my parents’ house, he told them he wanted to marry me. I was shocked they didn’t say anything against it. I wasn’t shocked that they told me to wait 5–10 years before getting pregnant and to get it medically approved. That was their way of saying, “You’re not rich, and you’re not good enough to be a mother.” Of course, to them, money is the number one thing, not love. They asked, “Do you want your kids to have the same problems you do? Or have no ear too?”

I said, “First of all, my kid won’t have the same problem because they won’t be raised the way you raised me. Also, I checked with a doctor, and this ear bit is bullshit. You guys never had a missing ear. Yet you produced a child with a missing ear.”

This was around my 21st birthday, and Dad said if we still felt the same by his birthday, April 5th, he’d set something up. Something small, so we could be given the money that would’ve been spent on a big wedding. Mom said Tammy got a big wedding because Bill already had a home for them and a good job. Tammy, in some ways, was more screwed up than I, but could always get men with houses and money. Ninety-eight percent of the people I meet, male or female, are broke.

By the end of January, Ron and I were finished. He was just too immature, flaky, naïve, possessive, and pushy. He was into pot and booze too, which I was done with. He may have cheated on me, but I doubt it. I called Mom, told her why I kicked him out, and laid it out right then and there about being gay.

11 PM

Just to quickly update, I’m doing laundry now and had a nice chat with Steve on the phone last night. I guess he’ll be up this Saturday.

Other than that, nothing’s really new. I’ve pretty much maintained a day schedule for the last week or so. However, I think I’ll be up most of the night. I was up till 6 AM yesterday but got up at noon, so that wasn’t too bad. No, actually, I think it was 5 AM, but that’s enough sleep, usually.

Now, let me go stop my VCR, get a cigarette, then I’ll continue with what I began last night.

5/16/1991 Thurs. 10:30 PM

I got a little lazy last night, so I never wrote. By 2:00 or 3:00 late last night, I fell asleep. I woke up at 11:00 this morning and went grocery shopping with Kim a little later.

Right now, it is absolutely beautiful. It was horrible earlier—too hot. My central AC took care of that, though. The breeze in here is amazing. Funny how I freaked out over the breeze in my last place, which is nothing compared to this. This is like my parents’ tropical island in Florida, and it’s not polluted. It’s not a once-in-a-while breeze either. It’s every day and night.

Now, two more things before I get down to business. When Steve and I spoke the other night, I mentioned Kim and Mark moving out and getting a house this summer. I’ve already told him about the apartment and the town. Steve told me to talk to Peter, and I did. He sounded pleased about it. If Steve didn’t get in next door, he could afford to get a house or something else nearby. He despises Springfield too, and we miss each other.

The other thing is Tony, whom I met roller skating with Kim. He was interested in me, especially because I was shorter than him and he’s not more than two or three inches taller. He called, and I told him, “I know Kim already spoke to you about my being gay, and I have no problem with being friends as long as you understand that. But I’ll make a deal, and that is, if I meet anyone who’s looking and who’s my height, I’ll let you know. Also, let me know if you meet any women who are not butchy and drug-free.”

He agreed. The funny thing about it is that last night I saw a vision of him calling me about someone, and today he did. But guess what? I’ve really had it with second best, and you know that’s all I’ll get. I’ve also had it with relationships and everything that goes along with them, and I just need to be alone. I feel I’m better off, as I said before, and that I’d rather fantasize about first best than settle again and feel that great void—realizing I was better off alone and saying, “Is this all I’m ever gonna get?” Also, she’s not into blind dates, which is understandable, so he said I should go to one of their AA meetings.

If I speak to her, as Tony gave me her number, I’ll have to tell her no, as I have no car. If she came to pick me up here, that’d still be a blind date. I would like to be friends if it’s a mutual possibility. I called and left my number with some girl who answered.

I guess Tony’s known her for quite a while, and it’s funny how earlier I was thinking of all the people I’ve slept with or who wanted me that I said no to, and most of them had one thing in common: they were ex-alkies. I really know how to attract ex- and current alkies and a few good dope heads, don’t I? Why do half the people I meet have to be members of AA?! Well, anyway—no more stress, arguments, or compromises. No more of my getting smothered by desperadoes or geeky, shy wimps. No more sleeping with people I don’t feel “the spark” with, and no more being dumped by the “decent” people I’m no good for.

5/17/1991 Fri. 1:25 AM

When I came out and told Mom I was gay, she really wasn’t too surprised. I guess a lot of people aren’t, with all the “hints” a gay person drops when they’re younger—all the female idols I always had and never being enthusiastic about males. Mom, Dad, and Tammy have no problem with it. At first, however, Dad and Tammy suggested, like most people, that maybe it was due to being hurt. I simply explained that sexual attraction was one thing and emotional attraction was another. Also, I’ve known plenty of other girls hurt by men in the worst possible ways, but they’re as straight as an arrow. I told them you don’t just go with women to go with them—you have to have attraction.

Mom, I know, was immediately thrilled. She never questioned my feelings or experiences with men. It’s obvious why, too. She knows most guys are assholes, especially in today’s world. She knows I do great at attracting losers. She also knows you can’t get pregnant from a woman. I’m not stupid. Even if it had been Tammy, they’d have gone along with it and handled it okay, but they’d have been more shocked. If you’d given them a choice a few years ago and asked them who they’d prefer straight, they’d say Tammy. Tammy’s not only their favorite daughter, but she’s “good enough” to be a mom—at least in their eyes—because she’s got a rich Jewish husband. In my eyes and in the eyes of many others, she’s too much like Mom.

5/22/1991 Wed. 8:20 AM

Yes, I’ve been slacking off again with updates. Actually, I’ve been quite busy—typing up my journals. It’s going to be a long project, but a fun one. I’m already on number two, and I type pretty fast, too.

Last Saturday night, Steve came up. We had a great time. He was here from 5:30 until 11:00 at night. We talked, watched a movie, and he gave me $40! I was broke, too. He loved the apartment, of course.

It was weird, too, because at the very beginning of May, I had a prediction that May 19th was going to be a great day. I had no idea at the time why, and I saw blue and green. This is part of a new “prediction system” I’ve come up with. So far, it works. Here’s a list of the colors and what they represent:

• Blue – calm, happy

• Green – money

• Red – pain

• Black – anger, irritability

• Gray – depression

• Purple – sexual desires, having sex, sexual frustrations

• White – nothing good, nothing bad, boredom

• Yellow – something new, new opportunity

• Orange – fear, anxiety, risky situation, bizarre adventure

When I saw blue and green for May 19th, the first thing that crossed my mind was a band, but I was doubtful. The blue really was my being happy to see Steve, and the green was that $40.

I also described people and events at the ER and even told Kim there’d be a shooting in the next 24 hours. I was right.

The next night, Jai came up for an hour or so. That was nice, too.

Jai didn’t meet Mark, but he met Kim, and they know each other—or at least they’ve seen each other here and there. Steve met Kim in Springfield before I moved, and when he was here, he met Mark.

I was up late yesterday afternoon and stayed up all night, so I don’t know when I’ll sleep. I doubt we’ll go to Northampton tonight to that gay bar. From what I’ve heard (Kim’s been there before), it’s gay night on Wednesday and straight on the other nights. You know how I feel, and there’s no point in it. What’s meant to be is one thing, and what’s not is another. I hate gay women—and once you’ve seen one gay woman (butch), you’ve seen them all. I need to keep away from people and the stress they bring for a while.

5/29/1991 Wed. midnight

Speaking of gay women, which I noticed I last wrote about, I never did go to Northampton, as Kim was tired that night. I’ve also chickened out permanently, I guess. A lot of times, when you put something off long enough, you never get back into doing it.

However, I called the woman Tony told me about. I spoke to her but never met her—and I don’t have to. I already know I wouldn’t be attracted to her. She was a major turn-off over the phone. Not geeky, but someone perhaps insensitive, one of those “you better be calm, quiet, and stable all the time” characters. Someone who would only want to be there through your good times and run when you’re having a bad time.

I also met a butch—really a butch—who, by accident, dialed my number, and I didn’t like who she was either. She, too, came across instantly as someone who wants you to be what she wants and can’t let people be themselves.

Kim met her too, and before this woman came over, I made up a signal: I would shake my bracelet if she were pitifully ugly, shake my right earring if she was so-so, and my left if she were gorgeous.

Of course, I knew my left earring would never get a shake.

Kim agreed with me on her character, and she was a cross between the bracelet and the right earring. Tracy K was a 0. A so-so woman is a 5. Beautiful is 10, but this girl was a 2.

I wish I had an electric typewriter so badly. I had to stop typing these journals, which I really wanted to do, because the keys were sticking and jamming, forcing me to make mistakes I wouldn’t have normally made. There weren’t tons of mistakes, but a few per page. Maybe one for every five pages. I might use Kim’s, but it’s huge—one you can’t carry easily. I’d have to use it there. That’s okay with me, though.

I have tons and tons to write about—lots of stuff—but I’m exhausted. Also, my breathing hasn’t been too good lately. I’ll be seeing Dr. Leitch on Friday. Time for antibiotics again. It’s also causing my yeast infection to get worse. My nose is jammed up more, and I’m coughing up stuff and wheezing more. I’ll write tomorrow for sure.

5/31/1991 Fri. 12:15 AM

I had a fantastic day. For starters, I went to a lake with Kim. Her grandparents live there, as well as in Florida, and it’s exactly like where my parents live. We went on the paddleboat, and I swam like crazy—finally got some color. I’ve been dying to go swimming for ages.

From 8:00 to 10:00 this evening, Kim, Mark, and I went to Interskate 91, and I had a blast. I really skated up a storm, though the music was terrible. I met an older man there who’s a dancer and knows my uncle Marty. He also knows a lot of bands, so he took my number.

Afterward, Kim said she knew him—he’s super nice and really well connected. I thought, “Here goes nothing, once again.” I’m used to it, though.

My biggest and best news is that Dad’s coming up on June 6th—that’s my mom’s birthday. Mom isn’t coming, which is fine with me.

I haven’t forgotten about writing in more vivid detail about past people and events. I’ll get to it, but not now, as I have to be up early to see Dr. Leitch.

Apr 1991

South Deerfield…

4/5/1991 Fri. 1:05 AM

Boy, do I ever have lots to write about. Yes, I’ve finally moved, and man, oh man, is it quiet here. No people yelling. No horns honking. All you hear 2-3 times a day, but only during the day, is a train passing by. It runs right by Kim’s apt. I like trains, though.

Today is my father’s birthday. He’s 60, but he says he still feels young. No one in the family looks their age except for Tammy.

Tammy had told me she was writing a farewell letter to Mom, but she and Dad could call to keep in touch with Lisa, Becky, and Sarah. However, she must have spoken to them, or maybe only Dad, cuz he said earlier tonight that Tammy said she was gonna drive up this weekend, but Lisa got sick.

I feel like I’m on some luxury vacation in a big, beautiful hotel. I mean, this place is huge! I never thought I’d laugh my ass off about the Woodside apartment. I had so much fun using my dishwasher, Jacuzzi, trash compactor, and my washer and dryer.

It is also easier to breathe here for sure, and the temperature was 72° today. Therefore, I had my big window door open and other windows, and I got a hell of a breeze. We are higher up in the mountains, and cuz it’s further north, it’s colder, and it snows more in the winter.

Shadow loves it here. He seems much happier here and causes less trouble. No more eating my napkins or going in the pails.

As I mentioned before, we each have our own stairwells. 30 stairs go straight up, and Shadow loves it when I toss his balls down, and he chases them. His litter box is down there too, along with Gloria’s pictures. I keep him there at night with a bowl of dry food. His canned food is up in the kitchen. And, of course, the toilet paper is in the bathroom.

The day before I left, Jai came over, and we had a great visit. I saw his place too, and he says he and Jenny will come up sometime. Also, Steve and Jessie, and hopefully Brenda, too. Also, Nervous came up the day before I moved and helped Kim and me drain the waterbed. It really was easy and lots of fun. I really enjoyed Nervous visiting, too.

10:48 PM

I just finished listening to my stereo. I used that $488 fuel assistance check, but I got a great deal on it anyway. It’s sort of like my old stereo, which Brenda now has. It looks a lot like it, and it came with the same kind of stand. I got it all for only $275, and that includes a turntable, dual cassette, AM/FM radio, and the CD player. The CD player was a separate unit. Editing works out great, and the only thing I hate is the continuous play. I can’t rewind a tape while I’m listening to another. I have one speaker on top of the bedroom. The bedroom is the only one with a lower ceiling and is basically in the center of the place. The cathedral ceilings slant down over that and the rest of the place. The bedroom ceiling does slant too, and part of it is straight. It’s super hard to describe. You have to see it.

Earlier, I had pork chops for dinner with Kim and Mark.

Mark saw the place since it’s all been fixed up and decorated, and he freaked. Kim saw it when I got it all done 2 days ago. I love to decorate. I guess it’s the creativity in me and also being artistic.

So that’s it. Other than that, I spoke with Tammy and Hank, painted my nails, and drew a picture.

4/6/1991 Sat. 9:46 PM

I just spoke with Andy, who’s still doing just fine and loving Phoenix. He reminded me that our clocks here go ahead an hour, but they don’t change out there. Weird, huh? He’ll now be 3 hours earlier.

I played him the slurred edits, where I had the pause button partially down. They are so funny. I may do more editing later now that I have two tracks in working condition.

I fell asleep near 5 AM yesterday and woke, as usual, 4 hours later with an attack. Not a killer one, but a very annoying one. Kim is picking up a refill of Alupent for me on her way to Springfield to work at Baystate. I’ve got a doctor that Kim called to follow up with this Monday.

Also, I stopped my Theodur like a jerk, but you know I hate any kind of drug. After the Navane, I’ve been really paranoid, although that too has been better since I’ve moved. What a major curse Springfield was.

Kim is so great and so sweet. She’s everything I look for in a person. I feel I can never express how grateful I am for all that she’s done for me. It’s like being rescued from Valleyhead. She’s a person who comes rarely and far between. I will just repay her by being a good friend.

Also, I was right from the very beginning, as I may have mentioned before. She is very attracted to me and to who I am. It’s amazing too, as I’ve always said, “Is there anyone out there who’s sane and upper class but yet will accept me for who and what I am?”

Sure enough, as we both agreed, we’re a lot alike. Not all serious, not all nuts. We’re both half sane, half insane. Also, she’s like me in always wanting to help others. I feel guilty, though, as I have no money to give her if she needs it. She doesn’t need it, but part of me wishes we could swap incomes for a week or so, so I could do for her what she’s done for me.

I wish she were here with me now. I could use the company, and I’m bored, but I don’t do walks at night, even though I can usually defend myself quite well. I did cruise up and down Elm St. a bit today at around 2:30. It was 80º today, and I got a great breeze through my windows, even though Kim and I have yet to figure out how to open the skylights. Thank God cats are sure-footed, as Shadow went roof cruising for an hour or so. Can you believe it? I was scared shitless for him at first, but even though he enjoyed it and was not hurt, I’m getting him a leash. That way, he can also accompany me on walks. I tried taking a big ribbon and tying it up to one of the posts on the deck, but he just kept slipping it off his neck and going about his tour.

I feel so happy and safe since I’ve moved, but at the same time, a little lonely. I miss my friends, and I can’t lie—you know me—but the urge for a lover is picking up here and there. I hate that feeling. I’ve learned now that those feelings don’t mean I’m weak, and yes, I know you can be with someone and still be independent, but I still wish I could want to be alone 100% of the time. Oh well. I couldn’t get someone if I wanted to, as I’ve written about 10 billion times before.

Getting back to Kim, sometimes I wish she were here to hug me and just hold me, but I try to keep my feelings inside. There’s no point in saying anything. The last thing I need to do is make her feel depressed or burdened in any way, and I don’t want her to feel used. I only hope I haven’t talked too much already. I also feel like a jerk because all my bottled-up frustration came out earlier today when I had that attack. Sometimes that’s the only way to vent it out, though, and get it out of me, rather than trash my place or do something stupid. Those days are over, and I haven’t slashed my wrists since age 17, and even though I was trapped as a minor and couldn’t and wouldn’t hurt the ones hurting me, those days are over.

I don’t want to lead Kim on either, as I am not attracted to her.

Time for some hot chocolate.

I want to be a singer!!!

Wait till I tell Kim about that call.

4/8/1991 Mon. 9:39 PM

Damn, am I bored! I wish Kim were here more often. I guess I’d still much rather be bored here than in Crack Alley. I am, however, going out Wednesday and Thursday nights.

Shadow didn’t go roof climbing today, but he sure did once again yesterday. I made the perfect leash for him too, or so I thought. I took an old necklace that wasn’t too tight or too loose for him to slip off over his head. Then I tied a long ribbon securely to the necklace, but he managed to snap the necklace in half. I’ve got to get a real leash.

Other than that, I did nothing spectacular today, other than walk to the store to buy smokes and watch A Current Affair.

There is something Kim and I are working on. The same fun project as what we did with Dr. Ingrid Statz. You know, snooping. Of course, as I mentioned before, Ingrid is gay. Or bi, I should say, but she is married to some rich lawyer. Well, it’s this cop, and you know I’ve always had a thing for them. I don’t know her name; therefore, I’ve given her the name Jamie. Like I said long ago, now and then I’m attracted to one where you can tell. Remember? It’s once in a million years with a feminine one and once in a billion years with a half-butch one. Never a diesel butch. Well, maybe I should keep that last line and change the rest. Every 15 years with a feminine one and every 50 years with a half-butch one. You can tell, but she’s pretty at the same time, and Kim agrees.

Kim tried snooping around yesterday but couldn’t get her alone. She did hear Jamie say how much she hates Springfield and that when she has kids, she’s not raising them in Springfield. Kim then asked her if she was married, and Jamie said no, and then quickly changed the subject.

Kim is like me. We both know things instantly about all kinds of people—things that most people never know unless they’re told or find out somehow, some way. My gut feeling is that she’s spoken for. She’s a cop. Not that God would allow me to have her anyway, and if he did, I’d dump her real soon, of course. Or, of course, she’d dump me if I didn’t dump her. Anyway, it all comes down to what I said before about snooping and playing detective. It’s fun, and the chase is always better than the capture. I like to wonder and guess, even though I know I’ll never have her.

Oh, I never mentioned how I ran into her, but it was by asking for a light at the ER while waiting for Brenda to pick me up. I also think I may have seen her a little over a year or so ago, late at night, when Andy and I were out. Another thing is - and I hope to hell I’m wrong - but I think that when I was dragged into jail for calling that pig, she might have seen me there.

I’ll keep writing about what happens (nothing).

4/9/1991 Tues. 1:22 AM

Kim came over, and we chatted for a while. This week she’s gonna take me to get the discount form for the heat/AC bill. Also, I’ll go to SS and welfare about my food stamps. I don’t need to sign up for next winter’s fuel assistance program till this July or August. I will not transfer banks till my book of checks runs out, and I’m now on my last book. The other thing I’ve got to do is get a new address label for my license. Thank God I don’t need to renew it till ‘93 or ‘94. All I have to do is get this little sticker you stick on the back of it. I remember that when I moved to Oswego St., then after moving back to Woodside Terrace, all I needed to do was peel the sticker off.

I watched a little TV earlier with Mark, and when Kim was here, I played her the slurred edits. Of course, she was amused. I mean, they are so funny. I’ll never get sick of any of my edits, although I need to start doing more, which I’ve got to send to Andy along with other stuff—old stuff that he never got, which got edited right after he got the tapes I made for him, and that was quite long ago. I think the last thing Andy got was Abbott, so I’ll pick up from there if that’s where I left off.

I’ll write more about my hair and weight later. I may verbalize it a lot but haven’t written about it in a long time.

4/11/1991 Thurs. 1 AM

I had a really good talk with Kim last night, and she bought me something that cost between $20–$40 and has 20 or 30 pieces and also 5–6 colors, but insists it’s a surprise. She says I’ll love it and that she can’t wait till I see it. She also said it was something I mentioned once or twice when we first met. She kept giving me all these weird clues and even drew part of it at two different angles. I still have no idea what the heck it is, but I guess it’s music-related.

Tammy also called to tell me she may be here the weekend after next, but she’ll soon let me know for sure. Lisa still has strep throat, and I spoke with her too, briefly. Tammy also said that a cat she’s been feeding had two kittens under Lisa’s bed. She may give them to me, but I have to wait 6 more weeks before they’re done nursing. I also told Tammy how Kim feels about Mark and how she feels about me.

4/23/1991 Tues. 11:41 PM

It’s so hard to believe I’ve only been here for 23 days. It seems like so much longer.

Kim and I have continued to have great times together. Can you believe she bought me $75 roller skates?! They’re so nice, too. They’re the boot kind, and they’re indoor skates rather than my old outdoor sneaker skates. The boots are white with neon pink wheels. Since I’ve got my schedule pretty much normal, I’m gonna go roller skating this Thursday night.

Next, she’s talking about a new spring jacket. You know me; I never ask, and she won’t take no for an answer, but it feels weird. Only my parents would buy me stuff like that. But then again, Brenda bought stuff here and there till she came into money problems, and I helped her out. I was more than happy to return the favor, but not for crack.

Kim may have gotten a job at the doctor’s office where I went to follow up on my asthma. He gave me a new inhaler, and in between that and the clean, fresh air, my breathing is better. Also, my skin looks and feels better; my hair is growing faster, and my hair always grew like a weed to begin with.

This Earth Day thing has hundreds of people spending many hours cleaning up the Mill River. They wait till I leave to do it.

I spoke with Jenny, who called earlier, and we had a nice chat. Bill hasn’t called back yet, but I’ve spoken with Hank and Nervous and have yet to speak with Jessie, Steve, or Brenda. I’m not sure that I will, but I’ve got to contact Jessie to arrange for her to either bring the bathing suits she borrowed up here or mail them. I don’t know yet when Tammy’s coming up, or when Mom and Dad are.

Oh, almost forgot—I spoke with Andy yesterday, and I played him my newest edits.

I do have more to write about, but I’m in one of my phases where I’m not in the mood to write, so I’ll continue updating later.

Mar 1991

3/4/1991 Mon. midnight

I got that apartment!! It’s gorgeous, but it is a little different than Kim’s. I like it better.

Kim and I spoke with Mom, and at first she refused to listen. Then Kim melted her right down to the ground. I knew she would. Mom was impressed with the area, which she’s familiar with, everything the apartment has to offer, the price, and Kim and Mark. She kept telling Kim she was a guardian angel. That is true in a way.

I’m moving on April 1st, and I’ve sent Russ a written notice. Brenda and Jimmy are also moving on the 1st. Jimmy bought a house here in Forest Park, and Brenda’s moving to Palmer. Bonny moved on March 1st.

The night I saw the apartment, Kim and I went roller skating at Interskate 91. I had a blast. I hope to get new skates, though, cuz mine suck. They’re outdoor skates anyway.

Kim came over today and brought back with her some odds and ends. Big, bulky stuff that’ll take up valuable box space.

I forgot to mention I had a really good talk with both Nervous and Mary D.

Also, I was right all along about Kim. Kim is very happy with Mark. He’s a great guy, but Kim feels he’s too quiet and not exciting in bed. Even though Mark’s 28, he’s only been with one other girl before Kim. Kim also told me that she had a wet dream about me and that she’s fantasized about both males and females. Whether Kim is married or not, she’s definitely my type of person, but why are they always plain or ugly? I mean, Kim’s not ugly, but she’s plain. Even Brenda’s better looking. It goes to prove more and more that God forbids sexual attraction for me personally for some reason.

3/6/1991 Wed. 3:45 PM

Well, now there’s a warrant out for my arrest. I wonder if sweet little Jenny will call me about it? Oh well. When I’m ready to take care of it, I will.

I am now at CC waiting for Martha. I took the bus here, as I am in no mood to associate with Brenda. She’s doing everything I used to do, which I haven’t done for many months. She pushes me away, and she takes her anger out on me, and it always comes down to sex. She said she wanted to make love to me one more time before I move. I told her I didn’t feel it would be a good idea cuz of how she always says she’s all or nothing. She says she can’t have sex now and then. She says it’s for memories and that she’s not asking for sex once a week. I told her again, as a reminder, that I broke it off with her cuz I felt I wasn’t what she wanted and that we didn’t have enough in common. I also told her I felt it was the right thing to do. It’s happened to me so much, and it happens to everyone else all the time, too. This is the 90s. So, last night she was grouchy, and she snapped at me.

My hatred towards people only continues to grow and grow. I’m sick of people!

3/16/1991 Sat. 5:07 AM

Since I haven’t written in a while, I shall update the last two subjects I wrote about. First of all, I guess there isn’t an arrest warrant out for me. It’s really weird, though, as I came home one afternoon and found a subpoena shoved under my door. It said I must go to court on March 21st. That’s crazy, as I never knew they gave you second chances. I’m not sure yet what I’ll do about it, but I sure as hell ain’t worried. Nor do I really give a damn, as again, Jenny got what she deserved.

As far as Brenda goes, I did not speak to her for a few days after she snapped at me, but after that, we had some decent talks. She said it’s the coke that’s screwing her up and ruining her life. I admire the fact, once again, that she can admit she’s got a problem, but I don’t want to be involved with her cuz of it. Also, the fact that I’m not attracted to her and that she’s not my type still stands. I guess I can now understand some of those who dumped me, all the while saying I wasn’t a bad person. I’m not a bad person, just not their type. I just want to be alone more than ever for 10,000 reasons. There’s nothing wrong with being alone, though. Me, myself, and I make a great team.

So, my other news is that Andy left on March 12th. I feel he took a great piece of me with him. I feel alone. I miss him. However, I’m happy for him at the same time. Also, I’ve had a lot of problems with him, so I’ll enjoy the break from that.

3/17/1991 Sun. 3:47 AM

Well, Andy’s now in New Mexico and will be arriving in Phoenix tomorrow. I haven’t spoken with him since he left on March 12th, except for last night. He either calls collect or I call him, since it’s “Kevin H’s” problem. I don’t know if I remembered to write about that or not, but when Andy was here, he got the phone put in that name, and he gave a phony Social Security number.

When I move, the phone will be under Maria S, and it’ll be listed. My monthly charge will be $16 and whatever cents. I will not have call-waiting, as that has become a major annoyance—especially if I’m talking long- distance or having a serious talk and don’t care to be interrupted. Call-forwarding, I don’t need, as Kim and I plan to keep our front doors open; therefore, I’ll hear my phone if it rings. I can live without 3-way calling for a while. In Deerfield, they only have pulse dialing anyway.

When I went to call the phone company here in Springfield, they insisted on speaking only to dear old Kevin H himself. So I called Hank, my old neighbor from Oswego St., to be Kevin H, and he did.

I have arranged for Nervous to collect my final bill and either ditch it or keep it. Of course, he’ll keep it. Of course, he’ll probably open it and read it, but that’s fine with me.

Nervous hasn’t gotten his butt up here yet, as he’s been working almost 70 hours a week. He says he will as soon as he finds the time. Also, he sounds impressed by Deerfield and my new apartment. I wish Feinstein’s and the Bucket of Cruds would fire him till April 1st.

I have had some very pleasant talks with Mary, who still feels bad about what she did. She should, too. I told her that after what happened, I was tempted to go to her workplace and make mincemeat out of her there, but didn’t want to get jumped by lots of people who worked there or were customers. I also didn’t want to get arrested. She said, “I don’t blame you.”

3/18/1991 Mon. 5:08 AM

Boy, am I pissed at myself and frustrated in general. I just can’t kick my schedule back on days. Bill’s coming tomorrow and I need to go do some food shopping. Also, I want to see Jessie before I leave to get my bathing suits back and see if she wants Toffee. I’m sick of taking care of him. Besides that, I have not seen Jessie or her son in ages.

Both Kim and Andy probably aren’t too happy, as I was sleeping when they were due to call.

Yesterday I woke up after 4 hours with an attack. It’s always 4 hours after going to sleep. I woke up mega congested and was so bloated that I could say I was 4 months pregnant and be believed. So, Kim called on her break and came and brought me to the ER.

That doctor I liked took care of me in Fast-Track, as the main ER room was swamped. Even though she’s married, I, Kim, and several others who work there feel she’s bi. She drops enough hints anyway with the way she was looking at me and asking me all kinds of questions about my being gay with utter interest and fascination. She even told me she liked my underwear and thought they were quite cute.

My problem turned out to be not a yeast infection, but rather a urinary tract infection, and I let it go too long. That’s why the congestion never got any better. When you have two different infections, and you take medicine that kills only one of them, the other one worsens while the first infection comes back. She gave me Seldane to take along with my Theodur, an antibiotic called Bactrim, and crotch cream to ease the irritation.

I received a check from fuel assistance for $488.

I really want to get a new stereo, but first I’ve got to start getting boxes.

Kim came over after Friendly’s, after the ER, and took back with her some packed boxes. She was supposed to bring them back over and get more stuff when I fucking overslept.

3/19/1991 Tues. 2:15 AM

Now I’m even more pissed than I was last night, as these antibiotics are like speed. I’ve only slept for 2 hours in 30 hours. I just spoke to Kim about it, and I think Andy tried to call me this morning. I know he called Brenda, but when he called me, I never got to the phone in time. It turned out that Kim wouldn’t have been able to come down last Saturday anyway. I pray I don’t sleep too late tomorrow. I need food, and then on Wednesday, I see Martha.

Kim is such a super person. I’m so grateful for her helping me take care of this infection, getting me out of Crack Alley, and much more. I told Kim about my ear surgery on building my outer ear and about going to Mass Eye & Ear Infirmary 3 years ago. I told her how the chief of ear surgery took CAT scans, which they didn’t have when I was little, and determined that if he opened the closed-up opening, I should hear. I also told her the operation never got done, as no one wanted to bother taking me and I didn’t want to disrupt their lives. There’d be a few visits besides the operation itself and several follow-ups. I explained I was too chicken to go alone and didn’t have the money for all these bus tickets back and forth from Boston. Also, the hospital people would never let me go home by bus after having major head surgery. Lastly, I told her that with Mom being 1400 miles away and Tammy with 3 kids, a husband, and a business, there was no help there, either.

She was just as thrilled at the thought as I was, even though I tried to block it all out of my mind. I tried telling myself I was born partially deaf and that I would stay that way; it’s nothing new. Her eyes watered as well as mine, and she half begged, half demanded that she take me through this operation, maybe this summer. She said it would thrill her and make her just as happy.

Also, she said I’m stuck with her no matter what. That’s ok with me, as she’s one in a billion decent people that I can ever get. I told her 3 or 4 years ago she’d have run like hell, and she said, “You never know. You may have been surprised.”

3/20/1991 Wed.

I feel shitty, so I’m not going to write much. I couldn’t fall asleep till almost noon yesterday, and I had to get up at 6:00, and then an hour later I went grocery shopping. I have 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.

3/24/1991 Sun. 11:41 AM

God, I wish moving day would hurry the fuck up and arrive. 8 more days!

I spoke to Andy last night. He’s really happy. He says it’s beautiful and that there are so many stores; everything’s cheaper, including a movie theater with current movies that only cost a buck. He also says that even though Phoenix is a huge city, it’s spread out so you don’t feel claustrophobic. He says maybe I’ll be out there sooner than I think and says he misses me. I miss him, and Donna sounds really nice. I had spoken to her here before Andy left. Her mother, Diane, sounds nice, too. He says there are tons of singing contests and that, no doubt, talent agents go there, and there are 22 gay bars. Can you imagine 22 gay bars?

I’m so psyched to move, but wanting to be what I want to be means I’m gonna need to get out of the area in a few years. I don’t want to ever have to say goodbye to Kim, either. Or Steve. Steve sounds really eager to check out Deerfield for himself, too, after I told him all about it.

Kim’s so in love with me. I mean, really. She told me how she had another wet dream about me, but she really is sincere and true, straight from the heart. Even though I’m not sexually attracted to her, she’s so right as a person. That’s the way it always works. Sexual attraction may be forbidden, but no more settling! I’ve done that for 25 years. If not getting someone who I’m both attracted to inside and out means being alone, I’ll be alone. Plus, why get what I want for just 2 or 3 weeks?

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.