Boy, I guess I haven’t written in a while. I left off about going to Hampden Beach, and man, did I ever get so much color. I was cooked, but it looked so good—more of a tannish red rather than bright red, and I didn’t peel. I’ve lost some of it since then but still have a lot of color.

I got my new checks from United Bank, and they’re so cute. Also, I thought I’d have to pay $1.50 a month, but because I have Direct Deposit, I don’t need to pay anything.

I had a couple of nice talks with Andy, who saw Gloria last July fifteenth on Linda’s birthday. He said she sang well and was very energetic, and her sound system was excellent. He did say that she looked tired, but she tours for so long. I hope I get her tour books today in the mail, as he tells me he sent them out last Tuesday.

Last Saturday, Jai and Jenny came up, and we had a nice visit.

Right now, they’re putting in a new countertop for me. The guy will be here for two hours, and the sanding machine is so loud and obnoxious.

Yesterday, I rearranged both the pictures that I have in my stairwell and in my photo album, along with family pictures. Also, I did many other odds and ends and was up just about twenty-four hours before I could finally fall asleep.

Before I fell asleep, I was crossing Maliheh with so many people, and she was freaking out and going hysterical. Maliheh is convinced, though, that the wires are crossed and not that someone’s fooling around. She’s such a hysterical bitch and a crab, and at this point, I’m so glad we never even had a one-night stand. She’s too spastic, and I can’t ever picture her calm and loosened up with a sense of humor for one second. She’s either serious or tense and irritable all the time. Torturing her is so fun, and she deserves it so much—not because of leading me on, but just because of how she is. I cannot see even those who “behave” feeling guilty.

I’m gonna take a trip to the store now for my usual brand of cigarettes, as the kind I got yesterday causes attacks. I’m wicked tired too, as I only slept six hours after being up for 24 hours. I also need to get some soda and some munchies as usual. I’ll write more later, and once again, I can’t wait till I get those tour books!

Kim and I are on our way to Hampden Beach in New Hampshire. It is awfully hard to write, so I won’t write too long. 

I will be embarrassed on the beach, as I feel so out of proportion and bloated.

Yesterday I called Tammy, as I realized that this inability to pay for what I need has got to stop. Wishing it all away wasn’t going to make it go away—as far as making ends meet, I mean. I discussed with her how the owner flattered me with such approval on my first day of work. He complimented me on how I learn quickly, while other employees were saying he isn’t punctual or a great businessman. After all this, he tells me to call him but never returns my call. That job would’ve been a real bore and a drag anyway in no time at all, especially when, once again, it’s nothing I live for wanting to do.

I told her how the real thing that was upsetting me was the band. At least they’re saying that I’m good but not their style, rather than that I need work. The thing, once again, that upsets me is when they cry about my not having experience, which I’ll never get till someone gives me a chance. All these people had to have their first time being hired into a band. Of course, I was hired till they moved out of state.

So Tammy gave me a suggestion, as well as others in the past, which I may consider. Rather than looking for ads where bands are looking for singers, I should put my own ad in saying I’m a singer looking for a band. She also said for me to put that I’ve had no experience, so I’m honest right up front. I was considering lying next time around and saying that I have been in a band.

Then, when I least expected it, she asked me how much extra a month I felt I needed. I told her, and she’s sending a check for $50 monthly to supplement me. That’s fantastic! I’d normally be upset at needing help like that and didn’t want to ask Mom for more money, as she just added an extra $10. I hate having to take and not being able to give, but at this point of desperation, I’m more grateful and relieved than upset.

Also, I have taken care of SS and the food stamps successfully over the phone, so now the only place I need to go is Food Mart when my food stamps come tomorrow or the next day. Tammy’s check will be here tomorrow, and God, does that ever help. So now, from the end of each month till the twelfth of the next month, I don’t have to practically starve. I sure feel like shit when I have to do that. I’d use my food stamps up, then have very little cash left for my non-edible stuff, then go broke. Then get my checks on the first and third, have no food, and need to use too much cash for food till my food stamps arrive.

As far as changing banks is concerned, it was much easier than I thought. My new bank is right across the street. SIS in Northampton charges $8 a month; my ATM card got too scratched up, and I was down to only three checks left. Perfect timing. My new bank is small; they’re friendly, and I got nicer-looking checks for cheaper, and they do the food stamps there. I called SIS, and they said to open with the new bank first and fill out the direct deposit form, which I did, and wait till the checks go to the new bank before closing SIS. I had $50 in SIS, so I wrote a check to the new bank (United Bank) for $40. I took $20 and left $20 in the account to cover the cost of the new checks. So as soon as the checks get put in the new account, they’ll write a letter to SIS, which I’ll sign to close out my account. Instead of $8 a month, I pay $1.50 for six checks. If I go over six checks, which isn’t that often, it’s seventy-five cents for each additional one. This is a better deal.

For the last handful of days, there have been a lot of mixed emotions. There’s that little ounce of faith and hope. The voice that says, as far as the singing goes, it’s not over yet. The voice that says, “It must be meant to be. Why else would I have the voice and be a night person and love to travel? Why else can I do so many other music-related things and not want to do anything else? Also, I cannot ever have a relationship, part-time or full-time or one night. I’ll no doubt never have a kid. I’ll always be alone, and I know God sends me second best to keep me alone, and you need to be alone to be a singer.” It has to be meant to be.

Then there’s that other voice saying, “Don’t be a fool anymore. Give up before you lose, and you know you’ll always lose. Be smart. Be brave. Be realistic. Walk away. Think of how you have no money to buy your way into the business. Think of how you’d never sleep your way through, even if you were straight. You’re not a slut. Think of how you fear people and are tired of their lies and false promises. Remember how you’re cursed as far as singing and a woman’s concerned. Don’t exhaust yourself by fighting a hopeless battle. Don’t embarrass yourself or be made to feel like a fool. Don’t be a sucker and let yourself take yet another fall. Never think positively and that you can do anything. Since you’ve been scared off as far as approaching people, if you’re approached, don’t have a heart. Of course, anyone who approaches you will be someone you’re not attracted to, but be cruel. Tell them up front you’re not going to take their false assumptions about your intentions and your character. Tell them you’ll not be accused of asking too many questions. Make them feel foolish and ashamed of the way they feel. Tell them they deserve to be alone and they’re too persistent.”

Now, I realize I have three choices left. I could be poor and struggling on disability for the rest of my life. I could settle for second best by getting a good-paying job through financial aid and going to school. Or I could die.

I will grant myself just a little more time, but if I die, it’ll no longer be something I consider to be the easy way out. It’ll be the ONLY way out. I’m too trapped at this point, so if things are ever to turn in my favor, which I doubt, other than with the apartment and Kim and Mark, they'd better hurry up. I need and want some action fast, and I feel I’m overdue and deserve it. I do not feel one tiny bit like I’m being selfish.

Fuck the kid and the woman, I say; just get me singing! I’ll work my ass off; just help me with the first step. Whatever’s up there, guide me into a band that will hire me even though I’ve never been in a band. They all say, “You sing well, and you pick up well and are versatile, but you’ve had no experience.” How am I going to get that experience if no one’s willing to give me a chance? Maybe I should lie and say that I have been in a band before.

Well, aside from all that frustration and bullshit, I had a great talk with Kim, who really keeps me going. She’s amazing. Also, I got a great letter from Andy.

I mentioned how I met Tanya through the personals, then met her at Pearl St. As nice as she was, I wasn’t turned on.

After speaking to the woman with the nice long hair, I went back over to where Kim and Tanya were sitting, and there she was. I usually like them to be taller than me, but she was my height. At the time, it didn’t matter, as I was so attracted to her. She was the perfect example of the masculine yet quite feminine type I go for. She was shaped like Brenda, less curvy than me. She no doubt weighs less than me but doesn’t look like a toothpick. She wore jeans and a simple gray T-shirt, appearing very casual, yet so pretty. She had long, straight brown hair that fell to the middle of her back. Brown eyes, tanned skin, and a beautiful smile with teeth that made mine look sick.

It turned out that she and Kim were in sign language classes together at U-Mass. She lives in Amherst, and it’s a local call from here in S. Dfld. Kim said she was honest, outspoken, and friendly, and we exchanged phone numbers. I was, like I said, instantly curious, excited, and tempted, but wary.

This was last Wednesday night, and she told me she’d get together with me the following Monday or Tuesday, as she was going to be very busy. She plays the guitar and has a 4-track and said she’d bring it over. Meanwhile, we both agreed on calling each other before we got together.

But now that’s all done and over with. Yes, I threw it all away, and Kim said, “Are you going to do this every time you meet someone?” That feeling of, “Oh my God, is this really happening to me for the first time after 25 years? Someone I’m attracted to and possibly interested in?” Kim told me that there’s a first time for everything, and I wasn’t looking 25 years ago. She’s right, but what I’m about to say is, in my opinion, more important than considering that. First of all, I’m not even sure that anything ever would’ve happened between Maliheh and me. Also, true that she could’ve been very busy, but I feel if she was that interested in me, she would’ve met me by now. I did call her, and she did call me, but tonight I felt it was time to be honest.

I called and told her on her answering machine that I’d done some thinking and that sometimes one must not do what’s easiest and what they want, but what is best. I told her I didn’t feel we should see each other and that I was considering her as well as myself. I told her it may sound cruel and as if I were judging her by experiences I’ve had with other people, but that I didn’t want to be hurt. I don’t want to get into anything I may regret. I said that I was not implying she was out to harm me, as I don’t even know her. Lastly, I told her how I’ve been alone 99% of my life, and it would no doubt be less awkward for her. It’d be too awkward for me, not that I don’t like someone older and more experienced. I do, but how many people are going to be patient enough with me and willing to understand me? I don’t want to be worrying about what someone else is thinking or wondering if they understand me. I don’t want to go through the hassles of them getting to know me or of me getting to know them. I’m not motivated to put the effort into it anymore. Especially when, sooner or later, one of us is going to dump the other. Like I always said, all I need is me, myself, and I. Only I can know and understand myself, and I do. I don’t want to have to communicate with anyone other than friends. What others don’t know or understand won’t hurt them. The only way for me to be happy, carefree, and independent is to remain alone. That way there’s no fear, anxiety, or guilt. I also realized that even though other people did shit to me that I didn’t ask for, in a sense I did ask for it. I did bring it on myself and deserve it cuz I was stupid enough to get involved. Never again will someone get the chance to hurt me, and I will never be a sucker for it either.

So, when I hung up, I cried and was hurt and pissed off at myself. I said, “Oh no. Now, why did I do that? That was mean, cruel, and unfair. You pushed her away and never gave her a chance, and you’ve blown it for sure now that she knows you’re scared and not confident.” But then I kicked myself in the ass and told myself I did the right thing, and I wished I’d done it when I did, if I had gotten involved. How can you cry over someone you only met once and only spoke to for an hour? This is the only way I can protect myself, and at least I can be honest about it. I’m good enough for myself. I’m good enough as someone’s friend, but not good enough as someone’s lover.

Later...

I hate her! I hate her! I hate her! I hate her and the rest of this whole stuck-up world! It’s amazing how much nerve and lack of respect people have. How harshly one can judge another and condemn them. How can one make you feel so ashamed and blow so much out of proportion? How can one exaggerate and make you feel like some crazed mass murderer? Slap you in the face for your good intentions? Condemn you for asking a few basic questions when you meet them and make it sound like you asked for their whole life story? Make a cruel, harsh, incorrect assumption about you after you’ve only spoken to them a few times, and you know you carried yourself well? Tell you you’re persistent after only speaking with them three times for five minutes in one week? Tell you they may consider a relationship and drop other hints suggesting that, then totally contradicting that while lashing out at you? It’s like grabbing someone and hugging and kissing them, then two seconds later they pummel you with 20 bullets.

Maliheh calls up saying she didn’t appreciate the Dear John message when there never was a relationship and never would’ve been. I tried to explain that it was to prevent one, and she did seem interested, and even Kim thought so, too. She said I was the one with the 20 questions, and I tried to tell her that I was only curious to get to know her. They were basic, simple questions that weren’t overly personal. She said I wouldn’t listen to her and that I’m alone for a reason, and that’s because of me. She wouldn’t even listen to me. And I’m alone cuz of people like HER. How dare she say that shit to me, and why is she alone? She told me she got her AIDS test and it’s negative, and reminded me that her next partner was going to do the same, though I’m not sure what this has to do with anything, especially if she was never interested in me.

This is how I know God is punishing me, and it’s too late at this point, as someone gorgeous and right for me could beg on their knees. No one will ever have me! No one! From now on, I’m going to condemn people for their feelings or for asking me any questions. I’m going to make them feel ashamed and foolish. I could never be in a normal relationship with anyone, no matter how right and attractive they were. This was the final straw, and my mind’s been played with enough. If God’s goal was to keep me alone by not only sending me the wrong ones but also by driving so much fear and paranoia of people into me, he did it. See, it is the same pattern, and now not even Kim can say I’m wrong about what’s meant to be and what’s not. Congratulations, God, or whatever the hell is out there. You’ve finally been 100% successful. Of course, I’d never have to beg for you to never allow me a singing career. I’ve only come to know the plan all too well.

Now, to tell the story about the band, which is why Mark gave me The Advocate in the first place. Mark had said that he likes to read the personals just for kicks, so as I mentioned before, that’s how I met Tanya. I tried calling at a decent hour for three days, so when that failed, I called at 2 AM. I was goofing off totally, figuring things probably wouldn’t work out anyway, but of course, nothing too scary or raunchy. I played the guy some edits and gave him a few crosses. I guess there are three roommates—a girl and two guys by the name of John. The John who was forming an alternative band was on the line the bulk of the time.

So finally, I came to realize how nice he was and how well he handled me, so I got serious. I sang a bit over the phone, then he took my number, telling me I sounded quite good but might not be what he’s looking for.

Last Friday, he came over, and he really is a nice guy, and we share a lot of the same philosophies and beliefs. He’s not gay, but he has gay friends.

I liked his lyrics. They were very free and open. He writes a lot like Stevie Nicks and Andy would, and he played me a demo of his last band, which was in New York City. He just moved here, but I noticed right away that his last singer sounded a lot like Stevie Nicks. He told me that he felt I was a really good singer, had great pitch, and picked things up quickly, but he would continue the ad for a month. I guess he originally planned to do this beforehand, no matter what. Comparing what people say now about my singing to a few years ago, there’s a major difference. Years ago, it wasn’t good enough or developed enough. Now, some people say it’s too dynamic and too vibrant. John is really looking for someone with more of a voice like Stevie Nicks. Stevie has had no real training and never really fully developed her voice. Gloria would be hired for this right on the spot. So many people prefer so many different styles that it can be hard to be one extreme or another. It’s sort of like being too good for certain bands, such as in this case, so it’s both a compliment and a bummer. Maybe he won’t call, maybe he will. Who knows? It’s cruel to say this, but I hope whoever else calls for an audition sucks. That way, hopefully, I’d be hired.

I’ve been doing journals now since Oct. 27, 1987. I know this is something I’ll always do and want to do. Even though not quite each and every page of these journals has been filled, 98% of them have short little love stories that I never had the patience to finish, but that’s ok. It keeps my mind and attention focused on things I really want to write about. However, I’ll always continue to combine certain things with real and important issues—issues that, in my mind, mean a lot. The other pages were used for drawings or lyrics or names of people or charts of some personal or fun kind. Drawings from now on will go on a sketchpad where they belong. Ending this journal, I’ll say that since I’ve slacked off on writing about my past in more detail, it’ll surely be done in the next one.

Also, I will write about Maliheh, the gorgeous girl I met the night I met Tanya in person at Pearl St.

Later...

Before I write all about Maliheh, the next thing about my past I’ll write about will be Andy, Jessie, and Tammy W. Now, believe me when I say there’s not too much to write about Tammy W. I know I was reunited with Andy and Jessie before I met Tammy over the phone, as well as Linda J. I miss Linda a lot, and I’m sorry she had to just toss our friendship out the door. I know why she chose to throw it away, of course—cuz she wanted me as a lover. I miss her, though. Even though she was quite mysterious, I miss our talks and the laughs we shared.

Tammy W was a 19-year-old girl I called one night who told me she had a little girl whose father had left her. I told her she ought to find a woman. I also thought she’d hang up on me, but instead, she told me she thinks about that. She was too messed up to even think of getting involved—getting involved seriously. I was too naïve still at the time to know that you can’t get involved seriously, and you’re lucky if you can get a few weeks or a few months with someone. Breaking up was just as common as meeting someone—no doubt more common. By now, she probably has been with a woman, as well as more men. Again, you know philosophy, and that is: if you can fantasize, you can do it. Except for the times I fantasize about strangling my mother when she gets on my nerves, but that’s just me, of course. That’s how I operate. It’s probably like being gay. You have a choice whether or not to act on it. Tammy was young, confused, abused, and so viciously controlled by her mother. Also, she had so much legal shit going on with the father of her daughter. She was pretty, though, and looked an awful lot like Tiffany. I haven’t seen her for almost three years now. She was wild, though, and hung out with such creeps.

I miss Linda and Tracy more, and you know how pitifully ugly they were. Now that I've covered Linda and Tammy, I’m too tired to go on. I’ve done quite a bit of writing tonight, but next time around, I’ll discuss Andy and Jessie and Maliheh, too. Don’t get me wrong, as I do not feel Maliheh will be any big deal, but the moment was fun. Maybe I am wrong for once, but why, and how can I be? I’m 25 years old, not 18. You know how I feel about that matter. The chase is much more fun than the capture. It’s really weird, but with me, it’s one way or another. Either I’m bummed out cuz I’m not attracted to someone, or I’m scared when I am. Yes, it is exciting to finally have it be mutual. But can this actually be happening to me once and for all? It’s too good to be true, and I’m tempted and curious but scared at the same time.