Last night I spoke with Tammy about the feelings I'm having about Andy, Phoenix, music, and how much I love the apartment, but I'm so bored and feel so cut off. She was very understanding and encouraged me to keep my chin up, saying it'd work out. Well, who knows, but she asked me about state training and asked about teaching music till I could move. I told her it wasn't that easy and that there's literally no transportation unless you have a car.

I did decide, however, to place an ad in the Northampton Gazette to teach music or sign language here at home.

Perhaps, and I mean just perhaps, as I'll probably chicken out, and also because whether I fear people or not, since it feels pointless to try meeting anyone new right now, I'll call Every Woman's Center in Northampton. Or maybe it's at UMass in Amherst. I hear they have all sorts of groups for women.

Aside from my fears of people, there are two things. One is having no car, and the other is how much I still feel gay women are none other than a major turn-off for me. Again, why go to a group to discuss my feelings when I already know how I feel? I don't want a part-time or full-time relationship with a butch or a so-so. I want a one-nighter every few months with a feminine gay woman. They'll laugh at me and say, "Good luck!" Why do I always want the impossible? Of course, there are still meant to be and not meant to be. I know there could be thousands of pretty feminine gay women, and God will never let me have one for one night. Then, he'll send me one who's ugly or just another spot on the wall and laugh. Andy did say, though, that he met this feminine and attractive girl who goes into Denny's named Saundra, who speaks Spanish, Japanese, and French.

I'm back on a night schedule as usual. I should try to get back on days, as Mom's coming within the next two weeks. I also should be in court within a few weeks, as I spoke to Carol today. She told me it won't drag on for weeks and weeks, but I sure hope it's before or after Mom's here. That's all I need: for her to say, for example, September 5th is the only day she'll be able to be here, then right after that, I get a subpoena for that day. I hope I get that subpoena fast so I know when I gotta deal with this shit.

I spoke with Andy, and that helped, as all day today and yesterday, I've done nothing but sit and cry. It isn't just about the tapes either. More and more, I miss him and want to move out there. I miss the things we do together, and I could easily get a job at Denny's with him. I'd have plenty of places to explore and be able to go swimming all the time. He could get me an apartment. The chances of getting singing jobs are much higher.

The last three days I’ve been out, believe it or not. Yesterday I went to an elderly couple’s house for a cookout. These people are friends of Kim’s. Kim and Mark, though, had gone to Vermont, so Bob and his wife Sandra picked me up, then brought me home afterward. Yesterday was Kim and Mark’s anniversary.

The day before, Kim, Bob, Sandra, and I went to a fair in Cummington, where I got some cute things.

Lastly, on Friday evening, the four of us went out bowling. It wasn’t too bad either, as we were the only ones there and I didn’t bowl as badly as I thought I would.

However, last Thursday was a living nightmare. The chief of police, a female detective, and two uniformed cops, all of whom I’ve met before and who know Mark, came here with a search warrant. I could not believe it! They never did that in Springfield, but in Springfield, and most other cities, prank phone calls are a joke. Murders are their major thing. Here in a small town, prank calls are a big deal. Traffic problems and a little bit of vandalism are all they really have here. In this town, all those things are as serious as murder.

They were here for almost two hours, and they ended up taking every single fucking tape, except for tapes of singers. The weird thing about it, though, is how nice they were to me, complimenting me on how neat I am and on my drawings, the Spanish, the sign language, the music, and how I’m good-looking. It sort of reminded me of Springfield. They were really trying to understand me, telling me how they had an EMT standing by, as they knew I had asthma and they cared about me and my safety.

They took pictures of the evidence and also my keyboards and guitars, which I could not figure out why, but they did. Officers R and L searched out the tapes while Chief B and Carol sat and talked with me at the kitchen table. They were all in uniform except for Carol, who, amazingly enough, did not look like a butch.

I felt like a kid all over again with my “mother” or “staffers” going through my shit and helping themselves to whatever.

I don’t know what’s going to happen, but they said I could write a letter explaining my feelings and bring it to them to give to the DA, and they’d say how cooperative I was. My main goal is to get those tapes back, and I told them I’d erase the pranks if I could get the edits back along with convos with me, Andy, Fran, and Nervous. I also told them I’d help them if they needed someone who signs as well as speaks Spanish or if they needed a housekeeper. I’d gladly go to court if I had to, as I’m not worried about that. It’s the tapes that worry me, and I can never and will never make any more prank calls again, being in such a small town like this. Those tapes are so therapeutic, as Andy and the others are far away now, and those edits are creative, and they took a long time to make.

Last night, I spoke with Steve, and when I called, I had no intention of bringing up Maliheh or the tapes. I figured it would deepen my anger and bum me out even more. Anyway, Steve just came out and said, “Ok, what happened?” It’s amazing how he knows when something’s wrong, when I can explain to almost everyone else something good or bad, and they still don’t get it.

So I told him, and that really did make me feel a lot better. I told Steve that even though Maliheh’s a major asshole and I sometimes lash out on the phone at strangers when I’m bored or upset, I’m not making any more calls here in this tiny town. I told him how I told the cops and read him the letter I brought to the station today. They have their job to do, and I respect that, but if only they could understand and believe how much I need those tapes. I’d gladly go to court, but to never get my tapes back would be too much of a punishment in my eyes. I’d be so miserable and angry, even though, yes, what I did was wrong, whether Maliheh deserved it or not, and they’ve got to do their job.

I’m constantly paranoid now, knowing things are different in a small town. Even though they did try to be pleasant and talk to me and try to understand me, the nightmare will never end till I’m holding those tapes in my hands.

I told both Andy and Fran, and they’re both just as upset as I am. Andy only has edit tape 1 and part of edit tape 2. He has none of edit tape 3, and I had some classic material on that tape. I had side A completed the last time I spoke to him before this shit happened, and he loved it. It really came out great. At the time the cops took them, edit tape 3 was almost complete, and I had edited down everything. It was a major project that I finished the night before they took them.

There is one thing I can say about that night, and Andy said he had the same feeling. A horrible vision of the cops confiscating these tapes crawled over me, and it was so bad that I tried to block it out. I tried telling myself that it couldn’t be. I wouldn’t accept such thoughts as possible. No. No. No, it can’t be true, as they never did this in Springfield, I thought. I know it does me no good, but I cannot help but think of all the things I could’ve done to save the tapes had I acted on my feelings. From now on, no matter how good, bad, scary, funny, or bizarre a vibe I get, I’m not ignoring it.

All I know is that a big part of my life’s gone, whether it’s wrong or right. No longer can I play those tapes to make me laugh or cheer me up when I’m upset. I can only remember and hear them in my head. Andy will have to mail me back what he has, and it’s not much. There are still lots of arguments between Nervous and Fran that are so funny. I told Tammy the tape got eaten up and said she’d mail them back to me. She only has one tape, though. At least Andy has the Rick and Nervous argument and himself leaving that message on Nervous’s boss’s machine. I hope he’s got the complex argument too, along with “East Shnoanok” (Andy singing backward) and the voice exercises I’ll need.

Even Kim’s so bummed out about it. Steve told me not to worry, but how can I not?

Later...

I called Andy a little while ago at the Denny’s he’s now working at. He told me he’d call around 9:00 this morning, my time.

I remembered that I have a Steve Perry tape with only one song I like. I took the tape, played it, and there it was. I cried, laughed, and smiled, but it’s not much. Only a few crossings. I won’t be completely happy till they’re all back, if they ever are.

I miss Andy so much and never thought I’d feel so empty. Even emptier than in Springfield. As much as I don’t miss Springfield and I love this apartment, I feel so much more trapped at times. The vision and the feeling that I’m destined to be a singer are never gonna go away. I feel so much more cut off from my friends and my musical possibilities. I miss doing all the things Andy and I used to do, even if nothing spectacular came out of it. I miss all the things we did. I miss Steve.

I never figured I’d be so much more miserable and empty, even though I’m grateful for this apartment and this area. Other than the violence and the drugs, I miss certain things about the city. The phone calls were easier, and no search warrant was ever obtained. Also, it’s much more convenient for people with no car.

Mom and Dad always said you’ve got to take chances in life, yet they’re so afraid of the idea of me moving to Arizona. They always have to control me. Like they give a damn about what they know I’ve wanted all my life? Whenever I’m upset about something, no matter what it is, they condemn me and make me feel ashamed and like a fool for it. All they want is for me to be in a great mood and perfectly happy 365 days a year. They always put false words and ideas and thoughts in my mouth and in my mind. I feel like they don’t believe in me, and all they want is for me to be grateful for living here, have no life, be here 24 hours a day with four walls and nobody, and accept it.

After having told me a year and a half ago, over the phone with Andy when I was in Florida, they’d help move me there. It doesn’t matter if they said it 2 years ago or 10 years ago. The fact is, they said it. No one ever does anything they say they’re gonna do. And Mom says she can’t afford to move me to Phoenix? Bullshit!!!

Well, I’m not gonna accept this life and kiss their assholes much longer. I wish I were dead! I’ll be damned if I’ll live a life of settling for second best anymore! I’m tired of doing things I don’t care about. I’m not gonna accept this life that they want for me! Oh, why couldn’t I have wanted to be anything other than a singer?! Why couldn’t I just be able to sleep with someone every few months, if possible, without giving a damn about looks?! I’d really rather be dead than live the many years I have ahead feeling so unfulfilled.

God, give me a break!!!!!!!!

The last 3 days I’ve been out, believe it or not. Yesterday I went to an elderly couple’s house for a cookout. These people are friends of Kim’s. Kim and Mark, though, were gone to Vermont so Bob and his wife Sandra picked me up, then brought me home after. Yesterday was Kim and Mark’s anniversary.

The day before, Kim, Bob, Sandra and I went to a fair in Cummington where I got some cute things.

Lastly, Friday evening the 4 of us went out bowling. It wasn’t too bad either as we were the only ones there and I didn’t bowl as bad as I thought I would.

However, last Thursday was a living nightmare. The Chief of police, a female detective, and two uniformed cops, all of whom I’ve met before and know Mark, came here with a search warrant. I could not believe it! They never did that in Springfield, but in Springfield, and most other cities, prank phone calls are a joke. Murders are their major thing. Here in a small town, prank calls are a big deal. Traffic problems and a little bit of vandalism are all they really have here. In this town, all those things are as serious as murder.

They were here almost two hours and they ended up taking every single fucking tape, except for tapes of singers. The weird thing about it though is how nice they were to me, complimenting me on how neat I am and about my drawings, the Spanish, the sign language, the music, and how I’m good-looking. It sort of reminded me of Spfld. They were really trying to understand me, telling me how they had an EMT standing by as they know I had asthma and they cared about me and my safety.

They took pictures of the evidence and also my keyboards and guitars which I could not figure out why, but they did. Officers R and L searched out the tapes while Chief B and Carol whatever-her-name-is sat and talked with me at the kitchen table. They were all in uniform except for Carol, who amazingly enough, did not look like a butch.

I felt like a kid all over again with my “mother” or “staffers” going through my shit and helping themselves to whatever.

I don’t know what’s going to happen, but they said I could write a letter explaining my feelings and bring it to them to give to the DA and they’d say how cooperative I was. My main goal is to get those tapes back and I told them I’d erase the pranks if I could get the edits back along with convos with me, Andy, Fran, and Nervous. I also told them I’d help them if they needed someone who signs as well as speaks Spanish or if they needed a housekeeper. I’d gladly go to court if I had to as I’m not worried about that. It’s the tapes that worry me and I can never and will never make any more pranks again being in such a small town like this. Those tapes are so therapeutic as Andy and the others are far away now and those edits are creative and they took a long time to make.

I really haven’t been writing much lately, but I sure have been doing quite a bit of taping. Not only am I now working on edit tape number three, but I’m also going to be making a tape for Kim and Mark for their anniversary. Also, I have been editing down, which means getting rid of the boring stuff. Certain conversations and crossings are old, boring, and not funny. When I omit stuff like that, along with ringing several times until the person picks up, I save a lot of tape. All that ringing alone can really add up. I’ve gotten new blank tapes too, so I’ve put numbers on them, labeled them, and given them their identification names. I’ve also torn off old labels from Linda Ronstadt tapes as well as others and have replaced them.

Lastly, I have a few other projects to work on. First is Gloria's new medley. Second is going through the edit tapes to remove and edit just the one- or two-word sentences, followed by editing the longer sentences. Finally, I need to edit out all the laughing, which, of course, is mostly mine. That ought to keep me busy for a while.

Now, I do have much more to write about; however, I need to start editing more, so I’ll write later.

I got the beautiful tour books, and I just finished writing Andy a letter.

Tammy, Bill, and the girls came up last Saturday, and we had a great visit. The girls looked really nice, as did Tammy herself. I figured they’d bring up a little something, as they usually do, but instead, I was quite shocked. I’ve never had so much food in a long time! What perfect timing, too! The fifty dollars she sent me would’ve been gone by now, and I’d be waking up starving, and if my kitchen could talk, it’d say, “Have some maple syrup or ketchup or mayonnaise.” I guess she’s going to be shipping up food too.

They loved the apartment and agreed to spend some holidays here, as Tammy agreed my kitchen was better for it.

I gave the girls some pictures of Paula Abdul and some perfume, barrettes, lipstick, and nail polish. I also gave Lisa a skirt that shrunk, an old one-piece bathing suit, and a pair of shorts. They all looked good, and Tammy seemed much more relaxed.