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Tag: Lake Erie

Excerpts From A Diary 38

[Fall, 1989]

[October]

I have been busy all morning.  I really thought I’d sleep in after what was a bitch of a weekend – Darryl fucked us again – a party cancelled – I caught the guy in a lie & had to tell him to fuck off & die – Teddy & I had a major argument Friday night – I walked out & want to Falco’s & got really drunk – Mike Taylor was there – he used to live with Maryellen but I guess they’ve broken up – we were hustling pool together – hustling college boys – I was the partner who played most of the game – making pretty good shots but always setting up the other guy – & then near the end, Mike would go in for the kill.  Gambling’s not allowed at Falco’s but we were playing for drinks & I got smashed.  Mike walked me home – he was drunker than I am.  Since he & Maryellen broke up, I thought that maybe he was trying to hit on me but he was so drunk I don’t think he was able to think in those terms.  He was barely able to walk a straight line.

Anyway – I was sick all day on Saturday – I had three parties to work – the last one started at 12:30 a.m. – I could barely walk yesterday – but the Bills kicked ass & we got some ass-kicking weed – so I guess the weekend ended up OK – well it ended up great – I was almost asleep when Teddy started making love to me – I was so surprised – twice in one month!  I guess his sex drive is returning because we’re not doing as much coke – or maybe he’s just relieved because the money’s working out – who knows, who cares – I’m not complaining – you know me, I can never get enough – I guess you could say that the weekend ended like it started – since I was with Jesse Friday morning – but that’s another thing – really nothing alike at all when you think about it.  All men are not the same.

Shera never called me – you really have to wonder about some people.  Not even to give me a call.  Well – that’s life – I can’t worry about her – or anyone else – I’m too busy.  I started packing to move this morning.  The pictures are coming off the walls – the books are getting packed.  Some of these pictures have been on these walls for 8 years!  Oh – this place is already beginning to look strange!  It’s such a bittersweet feeling – part of my life is being packed away.  8 years.  I have certainly gone though some heavy changes here.

***

Totally upset.  Totally depressed.  The money from Mom hasn’t arrived.  Without it – there is no trip to San Francisco – there’s no vacation at all.  All is not lost, I suppose – it could come tomorrow – & we could still go.  But we have to get the weed tonight – Pat works until 9 on Thursday – I am totally beside myself.  I am so sick of things fucking up.  This trip is so fucking stupid anyway.  It’s all my fault.  I could have worked all weekend & gone out to dinner on Monday but no!  I had to have a stupid honeymoon!

Jesse called – last week he offered to help financially – but this week – “I’m all tapped out” – sure you are!  Fuck off & die!  These assholes & their stupid bank accounts!  Ya’ll love me so much but can’t spare a lousy $100!  Fuck no!

Darryl hasn’t called either.  We’ll never see that $100 again.

***

Well everything worked out.  I went to Anthony Falco – he always helps me out.  I have to pay him back – of course – but he always helps.  I told him I’d do anything to help him – with my limited resources – a man like that deserves my best blow jobs! – Whatever he wants! – He’s a fucking sweetheart.  I’ve loved him for a long time.

There wasn’t much wood at Mack Lumber – now that it’s cold – & people with wood-burning stoves are burning everything in sight.  But Jesse had saved pieces for us – half a truck-load – stuff from his Christmas presents – mistakes – really nice wood!  & of course – we got weed – a quarter & a gram for $70!  Oh well.  At least we have a little bit.

I have to continue packing – not camping – I did that yesterday – but more packing for moving – I’ll finish taking the pictures off the walls today.  So much to do!  So much to pack!

***

Evangola State Park.  The joys of camping.  We are the only people here.  We had a few neighbors last night but they’ve left.  There’s a Coleman camper set up half-way around the circle but no people.  It’s so quiet – a quiet filled with sound – the sound of the surf – the sound of the wind in the trees – birds – bees – crickets – we are on a point, about 40 feet over Lake Erie – a rocky ledge – so you can’t see the water unless you walk through the woods to the ledge – actually to the fence – & there is Lake Erie – blue-grey & magnificent – white heads on the waves – spray in the air – & the smell of fall – not the crisp, dry fall of the inland but a damp, moldy fall.  The trees are red, orange, yellow, maroon.  The bushes bear berries – red, purple, blue.  There are wild-flowers everywhere.

***

It’s funny how we wake up at our regular times – our internal alarm clocks work really well – we lie in bed & cuddle – it is so toasty warm – the bed is made with flannel sheets, my stag blanket & the camping quilt.  The furnace ran all night, so the inside of the trailer is really warm.  But outside!  The wind’s blowing cold off the lake – the water looks so cold! – I’m wearing layers of clothing – underwear! – my old blue tights – red socks – my warm navy blue sweater with the collar up – jean jacket & vest.  Also my gloves – my writing gloves with the finger tips cut off – & my sneakers, of course.  We have a fire going already & I’m sitting close by!  A hot coffee thick with half & half & sugar warms my insides.  The colors of the leaves are more brilliant than ever.  Blue sky with puffy clouds – white, grey & black – moving quickly away from the lake.  The sun – bright & warm – but behind a cloud at the moment – the wind seems colder than ever.  Winter’s on the way!

***

Teddy’s still in bed.  I’ve made coffees – mmm. As soon as he’s up & about, we’re going to get a paper.  He’s up!  The smell of the coffee must’ve gotten to him.  Charles Kuralt is on TV.  I love that man!  Such a smooth, comforting voice!  Such an excellent bald head!  I’d love to stick my tits in his face!

It’s a grey morning.  The wind has totally died down.  It’s eerie – the lack of sound.  You can barely hear the surf.  Everything seems to be waiting – for what?  The rain?  Gee, I hope it doesn’t rain.  Not that it would bother me to have to spend the day indoors – not with books & football – but tomorrow we pack up & you never want to fold up the trailer when it’s wet.  Well – we’ll just have to wait & see!  Charles Kuralt just said that tomorrow is going to be a beautiful October day nearly everywhere.

Afternoon.  It has turned into a beautiful afternoon.  The clouds have broken up & the sun is shining – brightly through the breaks of clouds – or diffusely through wisps of clouds – now the sun it struggling to shine through a big grey mass.

We have killed the champagne.  Now we are going for a walk – it’s half-time.

***

Getting packed up.  My worked is essentially done – the dishes – cleaning the inside of the trailer – folding the blankets – etc.  I can’t help but feel a little sad.  But I’m looking forward – moving into a new place.  Making new memories – Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas.

It is another lovely day, although cool.  We’re burning up the rest of the wood.  Soon it’ll be time to go – home to see our babies.  I miss them so much!

Noon.  Time to go.  Such a beautiful day.  A lot like our wedding day – seven years ago.

Evening.  Out of joints.  Not likely to get any – that’s life!  I’m in a good mood anyway – got a vodka & tea here – got TV dinners in the oven – just glad to be home with Shadow & Missy.  Tomorrow – cleaning out closets & packing continues.

***

Busy.  I finished cleaning out my dressing room closet – going through every box – discarding or packing my fashion & porno mags.  Mostly discarding.  I don’t know where I’m going to have room to keep all this stuff.  Now I’ve started with the office closet.  It’s 100% worse than the dressing room closet – almost completely filled.  My office is such a mess – a dumping ground for every other room – it’s all get cleaned – tossed out – or packed sooner or later.  As much as I want to keep everything, at this point I am ready to throw 75% of everything into the garbage.  I just don’t have the energy to pack it all – or to find places for it in the new apartment.  We don’t have any storage in the new place & it’s just so much smaller.

Right now, I’m going through my Rolling Stone magazines – of course I am keeping those – putting them in order by date – reading articles – watching a movie – smoking bowls.  I’ve got a cold – I feel dizzy – my head aches.  I just ate some chicken soup & took some more aspirin.  I should take a nap.  But there’s so much that needs to be done – everything has to be packed up & ready to go by next week.  At least I have the time to do it all – if I stay well.  I’m glad I’m well-organized – everything’s been catalogued & put in its place years ago.  There’s just so much of everything!  Oh, I’m such a pack-rat!  I am tossing out less than half of what I have – but I haven’t collected, catalogued & stored all this stuff for all these years to throw it away now.  I just wish Teddy had found us a larger apartment!  What was he thinking?  Of course – none of this stuff is important to him.

Oh, I am tired!  I think it’s time for a nap.

***

I just finished going through all my magazines & newspapers.  What a chore!  It took me days.  As much as I wanted to keep all of them, I just couldn’t.  It really made me cry.  Anyway – now I can get back to packing books.  I have to finish taking the pictures off the office walls & pack up all the knick-knacks.  & the kitchen hasn’t been touched yet.

We got the keys to the new place today.  The electricity was turned on yesterday & the gas will be turned on Monday.  On Monday, Teddy’s dropping me off in the morning – I have to be there for the gas company – & I’m gonna clean the place.  Not that it’s really dirty – for which I am thankful – but it needs to be power-played – vacuumed – the fridge & oven need cleaning – the bathroom – I might even do the windows.

***

At 8:10 p.m., we got the news that a major earthquake hit the San Francisco area – the Bay Bridge collapsed – it was 5 p.m. there – rush hour – massive damage – people dead & wounded – fires burning out of control – we have been watching the news all night.  Keith hasn’t called us but he called Mom – who called us & reported that he is fine & so is his home.  How I wish we had been able to get out there!

Later.  At the new house.  I am so pissed off.  I forgot to bring the ammonia.  I’ll have to ride home – but then I might miss the gas company.  Fuck!  I’m pissed!  I was up half the night – trying to get the packing done – plus with the news from California – & my period – I’m just so fucking out of it.

Fuck it!  I’m gonna clean the rest of the house first & then go home.  What a fucking drag!  I’m so sick of moving!  I can hardly wait until it’s all over!

***

Depressed.  It’s freezing in this stupid fucking house – I can hardly wait to move into the new place with its gas furnace – it’s pouring rain – it’s supposed to rain all day – how are we supposed to move in this weather? – I have a sore throat & a congested chest – I also got my period – fucking bullshit!  Jesse was supposed to show up last night with some weed – but he never showed – never called – fucking asshole!  Why can’t people at least call?

I lit the fire in the living room & made a bed for myself with a sleeping bag & blankets.  I’m gonna sleep this morning – hopefully it’ll stop raining soon – I still have to clean the bathroom at the new place – we have a lot of moving to do today – I have to conserve my strength.

Packing up the kitchen – wrapping each dish in newspaper & then setting them into a box.  Makes me think of working at Sibley’s – packing sets of dishes – crystal – other breakables – to be sent UPS to whatever bride awaited them – oh, I learned my lessons well – even though that was almost 10 years ago – oh, how time flies!

I ought to get back to work.  I’m watching “Perry Mason”.  I feel so fatigued.  My throat hurts so – I should take my aspirin & some more cough medicine.  Maybe a shot of vodka.  Cognac or Drambuie would be better – not that I have any – but that’s life.

***

Sitting in our new living room.  Things are really beginning to look great.  The only room left to set up & unpack is the front room – the office/library.  Tomorrow I’ll start on it.  The job I have been waiting for!  It’s gonna look so great.

The boys upstairs seem nice.  They’re frat boys – TKE.  I had to laugh – TKE was the first party I attended at UB.  Official party, anyway.  It is really weird hearing footsteps over my head.  The kitty-cats were really freaked out by that sound too – they have been freaked out all weekend anyway – the more furniture that disappeared from the old place, the more they were freaking – & Saturday, I shut them up in our bedroom while everyone was here moving stuff & then they got put into Danielle’s cat carrier & then to the new place.  It was cold & rainy/snowy – Danielle took us over in her car – they meowed so piteously – I had never heard that cry from them before.  When we got to the new house, I took them into the new bedroom, closed the door, set up the litter box & left them.  After everything was moved in, I released them.  They have been exploring ever since.

Later.  We started on the front room.  Teddy hung a lamp & I started arranging my desk.  I had two desks on Minnesota Avenue – one in the dining room, which was basically a correspondence desk & the one in my office.  The dining room desk is now in the dressing/sewing room – the extra bedroom – & will be where I keep & fix my jewelry, make-up, costume design & altar to the Goddess.  So now my correspondence – address books, desk calendar, stationary, etc. – has to be added to my work desk.  Not a big deal & it’s probably better that I do everything at one desk anyway.

I’m tired but it’s so hard to stop – I don’t even want to sleep in tomorrow – I want to get up early & set up the office.  But we’ll see.  I’m pretty exhausted – I’m running – have been running – on nervous energy.

It’s so nice here.  It’s nice being in a place that is all there – all the windows – nothing broken – constant hot water – wall switches & outlets in logical places – a big fridge – a stove that heats up quickly – I never realized how slow & uneven that other stove was.  The main thing is – it’s warm & cozy here.  It’s carpeted in every room – including the bathroom.  I think we’re gonna like it here.

***

Too busy to write.  I slept until 11:30 a.m. yesterday – I was so tired – 2 cups of coffee & a shower later, I was unpacking books & setting up bookcases.  I worked until 12:30 a.m. – pretty much non-stop – except for when Teddy & I went over to the old place to pick up the mail & get the messages & bring back a few more things – & of course when I made dinner.  I got right up this morning & right back to work – I’m up to the R’s – I’ve been drinking coffee all morning but soon I’ll break for some eggs & toast.  I’ll be working on the office all day.

Yesterday I also cleaned the oven – what a job!  It took four applications of Easy-Off & I still had to scrape off the burnt on grease & food.  It’s hard to believe that people can be that slobby.

Night.  Smoking a joint – drinking a beer – eating an apple – watching a program on Channel 17 about the 1906 San Francisco earthquake.  I have my Tarot cards with me – it’s been eons since I tossed them – since October 2 – I’ve been sleeping with them under my  pillow to get the vibrations up to date – oh, moving certainly has disrupted my life – my habits – my cycles –

***

The end of another busy week.  We’re gonna move a lot of stuff today – lots of stuff that’ll get stored in the cellar – plus the rest of the picture, the frames, my collages – whatever we feel like.  My office – the office, I should say – is now a dream office – plants & books everywhere – it’s beautiful.  I have been waiting my entire life for a room like this.

Every day when we’ve been going over to the old place & playing back the messages.  There’s a strike going on with NY Telephone & we can’t set up new phone service yet.  So we have to keep the old service in the old place so I can keep working.

I got my bike & rode home.  I was just arriving when a truck drove by with two guys in it & they were hanging out the windows to get a look at me – I thought – that one guy looks like Jesse!  Well – guess what!  It was Jesse!  He was out to lunch with a guy on his crew.  They parked the truck & came in the new place to check it out & smoke a doobie with me.  He said he had some fabulous new weed – the joint we smoked was killer – & he would be calling Teddy soon to do a deal.

“Call me,” I said, as he was walking out the door.  “Or maybe you don’t want me anymore.”

“No, it’s not that” he said.  “You know I want you – that hasn’t changed. I’ve been working my butt off, trying to support my family – & I’m getting pretty tired of working all the time!”

“Poor buddy,” I crooned – but inside I was laughing.  Poor buddy, indeed!   He’ll be here – soon enough.  I’d be amazed if Doreen wasn’t pregnant again by the middle of next year.  & then he’ll be here all the time.  If only to complain about her.

***

I’ve got so much to do today – baking a Samhain apple pie – setting up my Goddess wall – typing up my Tarot notes – writing a poem to Hecate – raking the yard – I should get going!

Jesse stopped over yesterday.  He got me totally stoned & left me with a nice bud.

We moved the rest of the plants yesterday.

[November]

It’s snowing.  In the 70’s on Monday & snowing today!  It looks so pretty.

It’s been a busy week.  Tuesday – of course – was Halloween – I baked an apple pie – with a pentacle etched into the top crust – any feelings of disappointment I had because I’m not in a coven & couldn’t participate in a Samhain ritual disappeared while I was making the pie.  For if cooking & baking are not acts of magic & transformation, I don’t know what is.  The same with sewing – all needlework – & gardening & writing & painting & making love – all the things I excel at.  & performance.  I create magic every time I do a show.  & isn’t that what witchcraft is all about?

I have 2 jobs tomorrow night & a few next weekend but that’s it.  Not having a phone is really beginning to hurt.

***

We were in an accident last night – on the way home from our parties – on Bailey Ave – a black dude hit us – he was completely wasted – he was driving a white Lincoln – he U-turned right in front of us – Teddy veered but couldn’t help hitting the dude – he’s inconsolable – his beautiful truck –

We almost went out to Darryl’s – we were in fact on our way – but we turned around & went home – we came home!  We’re real glad we did – things are bad – the truck will cost a lot to fix – but at least we resisted temptation – another futile act – besides we bought a half an ounce today – & tomorrow we go to Wegman’s.  We’ll be going out to Darryl’s much less in the future – if at all.

***

My tapes came!  Well – all of them except the Don Henley one – Patsy Cline, Roy Orbison & U2.  I put the Patsy Cline on immediately – this is the way radio sounded when I was a real little girl – before the Beatles – well the way WBEN sounded – which is what Mama had on in the mornings – in the kitchen, as she made breakfast for all of us.

The drapery rod fell down today – the one in the office – so I thought I’d put in the traverse cord.  Should be easy, right?  I can’t get the damn thing correct & I’ve tried three times – I guess I’ll have to wait until Teddy gets home – he should be here soon.

***

Jesse stopped by this morning.  I was in the middle of work & really not in the mood for him – but he told me that my phone was disconnected – not temporarily disconnected – but totally turned off.  My career is over after this weekend.  I have no more bookings!  I don’t know whether to laugh or to cry!  I mean, this is what I wanted, right?  But – not yet!  Not this way!  Teddy says that the phone will get turned back on & people will be calling again – presumably people who haven’t tried in the last week – or heard that the it’s disconnected – or think that I’m out of business – or whatever – well, there’s nothing I can do about it – goddamn phone strike!  I mean, people move & need to move their phones & with the strike, it’s impossible – what are businesses doing?  Are we supposed to just go without a phone?

Anyway, I decided to look for a job – not that I really want to work – but cocaine or no cocaine – we can’t live on what Teddy makes – well, not comfortably – I’m not really sure how to go about this – I know I don’t want an office job.  If I have a sit at a desk at work, I’m not gonna wanna do it at home & I gotta do it at home – I’m not sacrificing my writing for anything.  I’ll fucking dance in a club before I do that!  & I certainly don’t want to dance in a club.  I mean – without a car – what am I supposed to do – take the bus to work?  Or cabs?  That gets real expensive real fast.  I’m looking for a job as a barmaid – I’m gonna hit near-by taverns first & then spread out.  Teddy hates the idea.  I can’t help it.  I gotta have constant cash flow or I get nervous.  I get worried.

I’m nervous & worried right now.  I supposed I’m overreacting – as usual – but I was never one to wait for trouble – I’ll take off before it gets here – or meet it head on – whatever happens.

***

A lot has happened since Tuesday.  I went looking for work & found nothing – well not a job – but I found Mark Miles – he’s been around – his marriage broke up a year ago & he split town but now he’s back – he works at The Skeptical Inquirer/Prometheus Books – he wants me to write my autobiography!  He says I’m famous – everyone has seen Cori.  & how!  Talking to him improved my mood – I’ve been in a bad mood lately – being with him renewed my confidence – made my future look brighter – if not less vague – oh well – my future’s always been a blur.

But one thing he told me really shock me.  It’s been a while since I’ve talked to Jon but it’s not like I’ve had a phone.  I was trying to remember the last time we spoke – maybe it was six months ago – maybe more.  I’ve been so busy that I haven’t really noticed.  Of course – I read his columns about local music in the Buffalo News.  Honestly though – I’m so busy with my own career that I don’t have time for local music anymore.  It’s not like 10 years ago when I was actually part of the scene.  I wish I still was but I just don’t have the time.  Anyway – Mark told me that Jon & Sara just had their first child – a little girl – with the stripper-sounding name of Brandy.  What – is that their favorite thing to drink?  I know it’s not Jon’s favorite song.  “Did they get married?” I asked.  “Yes,” Mark answered.  “They didn’t have a wedding – I guess when Sara told Jon she was pregnant, he insisted on getting married – they just went to City Hall & did it. Strangers off the street as witnesses.”

I felt really weird.  I remembered telling Jon I was pregnant – it may have been 11 years ago but it was like yesterday.  & he certainly didn’t “insist” that we get married.  He “insisted” that I get an abortion.  Of course – we were both in college & neither of us had good jobs – Jon was working at a bowling alley & I wasn’t working at all – of course it’s not like Jon is making much money right now – as a music critic –  but apparently Sara is – graphic arts is a lucrative career.  Mark told me that Jon was a “house husband” most of the time, “taking care of the baby & writing.”  I thought about Jesse – taking care of the babies when he was laid off while Doreen went to work as a nurse.

“Hey, you OK?” asked Mark.

I laughed.  “Yeah, I’m alright.”  But I wasn’t.  I knew I wasn’t.  What happened with Jon so many years ago had broken me in a way that had never been repaired.

“C’mon,” he stood up.  “Let’s go have a drink.  You look like you need one.”  We went to Falco’s.

***

The phone is back on – I’m glad!  Maybe I will work this coming weekend.  I had a pretty lousy time this weekend – my bad mood again – I need an adjustment in the worst way – every joint & muscle aches.  It’s an effort to stretch every day.  My back is so out of whack that every move hurts – try dancing like this.  & no coke, too – we can’t afford it – don’t want to afford it!  I gotta hang in there – if we keep working & keep away from coke – everything will work out – including a good Christmas – & I will be able to afford to see Dr. West again.

***

I went downtown yesterday.  It was the last beautiful day – today it’s raining – blowing – snowing & freezing – I went out to lunch with P.W. – I called about a typist job, too – I have a job interview at 3 today.  I got bunches of books out.  I had fun – it was a great day!  I took the #13 Kensington bus to the Utica Station & then the train downtown.  Coming back, I took the train to Amherst Street, then a #32 Amherst Street bus to Bailey Ave.  I had to wait a half-hour for the bus but I read until it arrived.  I stopped in a Falco’s for a beer & to make some phone calls – oh & I am working this weekend!  Teddy was right – I did get upset about nothing.

How the wind is blowing!  Winter is coming!

Night.  I forgot to mention that last night Pat stopped in.  He brought 2 joints & a tape – the new Dead album on one side & Live Dead on the other.  Pat’s not even a Deadhead but he knows I am – I thought that was sweet of him to bring those over.  He’s really more into jazz & rhythm & blues.  He stayed for a while – it was such a nice visit.  We really haven’t had that many people over yet to see the place – something I’ve been rather upset about – but anyone who’s been here is amazed that we’re already so settled so maybe they think we’re still unpacking or something.  I’m gonna get the Chistmas & Solstice cards out really early this year – right after Thanksgiving – & add a little note inviting people over.  I love this place so much – I’m really proud of it.

***

No work tonight.  It feels so weird to be staying home.  We worked last night.  We spent our money on food & home necessities.  We joke about how we would love a line but it feels better to eat – to be warm – to have the bills paid – to have a bag of weed.

***

I’ve been under the weather all day.  I really need an adjustment – I decided to borrow money from Anthony & go to Dr.West’s tomorrow.  I have continual headaches – my neck is stiff – my whole body aches.  With Thanksgiving shopping on Wednesday – a party on Wednesday night – & cooking all day Thursday – I just don’t want the pain – I want to relax & enjoy myself on Thanksgiving.  Not hurt – I hope Anthony can lend me the money.

***

I couldn’t get the money from Anthony.  Oh well.  I feel a lot better today anyway.  Well – actually – I felt pretty bad this morning – a really bad migraine – I woke up with it – so I slept in – I didn’t get up until 10:30 a.m. – & I still had the stupid migraine – everything went wrong – every little job – the cellar fridge – the litter box – turned into a large job – I didn’t feel good until I got into the shower.  I did my nails while I watched “Perry Mason” – then made up & went out.  I looked really good & my headache had gone away – so even though Anthony wasn’t able to help me out – I felt so good – I barely cared.  & Anthony was really sweet about it – he always is.  I know he loves me – which is all that matters.

***

Tired.  Depressed.  A bad headache.  A stiff neck.  I’m homesick.  This time of the year is so tough on me – on one hand, I’m happy we’re staying home – I’m doing a turkey dinner & everything that goes with it – & on the other hand, I miss my family.  Teddy keeps saying, “I’m your family, Shadow & Missy’s your family” & of course he’s right – but still – I miss Mom – I miss everyone.  It’s been – how long? – since June, 1988 – when I saw them last – & it wasn’t the best reunion – but oh well.  Dwelling on it won’t make me feel any better.

I suppose things would look brighter if I had a joint to smoke.  & I suppose having my period is contributing to my depression.

I guess I’ll go bake the pumpkin pie – gotta be done anyway – besides – baking always cheers me up.

***

Feeling much better.  After I wrote for a moment, I laid down for a moment & was out cold for an hour.  I woke up & couldn’t get up – I finally dragged myself out of bed & started making the pie.  I put on my Patsy Cline tape to keep myself company – with the boys upstairs gone, the house is so quiet — & the next thing I knew, I was sitting at the kitchen table – sobbing into a towel.  I was totally gone – a complete wreck – then the doorbell rang.  I wiped my face off & answered the door – it was Jesse.  Yes – I’ve been avoiding him – trying to pretend he doesn’t exist – but at that moment – I was never happier to see anyone.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?”

“Oh Jesse – I’m so depressed – I’m so homesick!”  & then I was in his arms – sobbing, sobbing – oh, his comforting bulk – his physical largeness – my face pressed into his sweater smelling of cigarette smoke.  He started attacking Teddy – saying how insensitive he was – not going to my mother’s house for Thanksgiving when that’s where I wanted to be – & of course the more he denigrated Teddy, the more I defended him & Jesse started to laugh – “Get off your high horse,” he said.  “I see you’re feeling better,” he added dryly.  Before he left, he massaged my back & cracked my spine & neck – it was such a blessed relief – a release of tension.  I have been so tense – so tense – too tense.

The rest of Wednesday was great.  Teddy took me out to lunch at Cayuga Snack Bar – a Thanksgiving tradition.  Then we came home & napped all afternoon.  When we got up, we went to Falco’s.  I was hoping to run into Mark Miles but never showed – his boss M.B. did & I introduced myself.  We went home & Pat showed up with a half an ounce of weed & a gram of coke.  We went to that party in a great mood.  I’ve never danced better.  It was a really good party.  Afterwards, we stopped back in at Falco’s & then home again to party & play backgammon.  I was definitely under the weather for Thanksgiving though – the turkey didn’t get in until 1 p.m. & I went back to bed after that.  But when I re-awoke at 2:30, I felt great.  We smoked joints – munched on cheese & pepperoni & crackers – pickles & olives – celery & carrot sticks & Marie’s blue cheese dressing – until dinner was ready at 6 p.m. – & dinner was great!  Everything tasted wonderful!  Of course – cleaning up took a long time – but I did it in stages – in between joints – but it was nice – a really nice Thanksgiving.

***

Watching the Bills-Bengals game.  We’re on top – 17-0.  We’re almost out of weed again – down to roaches – Pat says there isn’t anything to be had – at least for today.  That’s life.  Curtis turned up again – he has some acid!  I really hope we can get some!  It’s been close to 2 years since we last tripped.  Is that possible?  We used to trip all the time.  Cocaine has really ruined the drug market.  I mean – it’s all anyone has – there’s little weed – even less LSD or shrooms or buttons or any other hallucinogens – you can get pain killers, but that’s about it.  I miss tripping.  I really do.

I’ve been working on a collections of poems called “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Seductress.”  I want to have it done & in Mark Miles’ hands by the end of the week.

I also need to get laid.  It occurred to me that I’m constantly hungry & constantly eating because I’m constantly horny.  I really have to do something about this.  It doesn’t help to masturbate more.  In fact – it makes it worse – I want to be with someone – not by myself – I want passion – there really isn’t any passion in masturbation – except in fantasies – & I’m sick of fantasies – I want the real thing & I want it regularly – & often – not every few months when Teddy finally feels like it.  Or once a year!  I mean – what the fuck!  I love him so much & I don’t want to hurt him but I can’t go on like this – I’ll end up as fat as a sow if I do – not to mention completely out of my mind.

Something else – I keep thinking that I’d like to have a baby – especially if I’m not going to be dancing anymore.  Teddy doesn’t want children – he’s said so many times – but I still think about it.  I would really love a daughter – I already have a name picked out – Janine Rebecca.

***

I slept in today.  I didn’t plan to – but something about Mondays makes me want to sleep.  Maybe it’s just a habit left over from our drug days.  It just feels so good to lie in bed & drift off into fantasies – hope that they come true – masturbate & call for Jesse – I can’t help it – fall back asleep – & wake hours later – feeling guilty because I have so much to do.

But I’m up now – drinking coffee & writing.  I’m ignoring the housework today.  Oh – I’ll probably straighten up the house during “Perry Mason”.

I just finished a poem called “Shadow”.

***

I just finished my book.  Well – I have to type up the table of contents – but the all the poems are typed & in order.  The sections are:  High School Lovers, The Knight of Cups, The Rainbow, & Man on a Motorcycle.  I only used a fraction of my poems – maybe around 100 of them – & I’m already thinking of the next book – the wild life – love affairs – dancing & drugs – & eventually I want to do one about spirituality – maybe called it Myths, Dreams & Visions – include my Goddess poems & my dream poems.  But that’s all in the future – I’m just glad to have this book done.

I’m scared about showing it to Mark – or to anyone for that matter.  I’m afraid he won’t be interested – or he’ll read them only as a courtesy – or he’ll think they suck – or they’re amateurish – or immature – or something else that will make me feel like shit.  I’m so scared.

***

I’m finished.  I did the table of contents after my shower this morning & corrected the only two typos after breakfast.  Then I cleaned the house for the first time in days – housework always gets neglected when I’m writing.  Now I have the new Dead album on.  I should go out & call Mark.  I’m just so frightened – really scared – of rejection.  One thing I realized when I was working on this book was that the pain & rejection I suffered ten years ago still burns.  Also – I am amazingly angry about it – I used to be depressed – but anger & depression are really the same emotion – kinda like positive & negative poles of the same lousy feeling.  Anyway – I’m not over the pain – I’m not over wishing that things could have different.  Also – the feeling like no one’s ever really taken me seriously – least of all Jon – which is why some of my most extreme anger is directed at him – that affair almost destroyed me & what for?  Things would be so different now!

I’ve been having really telling dreams lately – dreams in which I’m angry – I’m fighting – I’m jealous – & I’m acting on my feelings instead of getting depressed or ignoring them or partying away the pain.  I’m not always right in fact in some dreams I really overreact – like beating the shit out of someone for $12 – but it does show that as happy as I am with my new home – with Teddy – with the cats – I am really angry – angry because I want to be taken seriously as an artist – & I want sexual passion – I think that’s one of the reasons I’m so angry.  I’m working out the anger I feel in my dreams instead of in my conscious life because I can’t work it out in consciously – I’m so afraid of hurting Teddy – I really love him – but I can no longer deny – if I ever did – that this marriage is not what I really want.  I mean – within 6 months of my marriage – I was having an affair with Jesse.  & one of the poems I wrote for Jon – do you keep on wanting me? – was written a week before the wedding & published in the Buffalo News shortly afterward.  I mean – I told the entire world that I was thinking about a past lover – just as I was getting married.  But Teddy – I love him so much – he loves me so much – why can’t it be enough?  & what’s missing?  Because I know something is missing.  Something is very wrong & has been from the very beginning.

Well – this isn’t getting my poems published.

Noon.  I just called Mark.  We’re getting together on Friday at noon.  He’s enthusiastic – at least he sounded that way.  I’m so nervous!  Oh Mother!  I want everything to turn out well!

Night.  At turns exhilarated & scared.  Afraid I’m making too much out of nothing – my imagination is going nuts – running wild – I don’t know how I’ll live until Friday.  Oh, I wish I hadn’t gotten so fat!  Actually – I look pregnant.  Oh well – I’m still thinner & in better shape than I was at any time up until April & May of 1980 – when I was doing those great black beauties – oh how I wish I could still get those! – oh well.  I’m still great looking!  I still have a great figure – just a little more of it.  Besides – I’ve always been sexy – large or small.  I just feel a little more confident when I’m small.

I know – I know – it’s my writing that’s important – not my looks.  It’s just looking good makes me feel better & more confident in all areas of my life – hey, I need all the help I can get!

I’m just dying – Friday can’t get here fast enough.

***

Bored.  I finally finished a poem I’ve been working on all summer long & now I just can’t get into anything else.  I shoveled the driveway & front walk & put the garbage out.  The cats are crawling all over me.  I’ve got a lot of books out from the library – I guess I’ll read the rest of them this afternoon.  I’ve got chicken rice soup on the stove – I’ll have lunch & read & probably take a nap – I’d take a walk, but it’s blowing cold & snow.  I should transcribe a diary – or inventory some books – I just don’t feel like doing anything.

***

[December]

All made up.  I must have changed my clothes a dozen times – now I’m in my green sweater – green, the color of money – color of life – the color to attract love – & my jeans & boots – I considered a dress but fuck! – I’m comfortable in jeans & let’s not get carried away here – plus it’s cold out & I dress for the weather.  I’m so nervous!  There – I just put on some perfume.  A shot of perfume is a shot of courage.

Noon.  At Falco’s.  I’m so afraid he’ll never show.

Afternoon.  Well, he came over & we talked – mostly about people we both knew – but since he had to get back to work, he couldn’t stay long – he took the manuscript & left – he said he’d read it over the weekend & get back to me – I have such a feeling of anticlimax – & oh god – I am dying for a drink – dying, dying, dying!  Oh, I am so sick of being broke!  I can’t even borrow any money off Anthony because I’m not working this weekend.  All I have is a bicentennial quarter.  Oh Jesse!  Where are you when I need you!

Excerpts from a Diary 13

[Late Winter – Early Spring, 1980]

Oh, I feel so much better now.  I just couldn’t take it anymore, I had to get stoned, really stoned.  I only used a little bit of pot – it’s funny how you can make a little bit of pot last & last, while when you have a large amount, it goes by so quickly – but I held it in so long, & believed so hard that I got stoned anyway.

I thought I was gonna go crazy.  I think I did go crazy.  Way crazier than I did last year – but it was a totally different craziness.  You wanna go completely nuts – get sober.  I am not joking.  Sobriety fucks you up in a way that nothing else does.  Well – it didn’t help that as soon as I was out of Buffalo & arrived in Cleveland that my mother packed me off to a hospital somewhere in Pennsylvania – in one of the National forests they have down there – all I remember is that the trip took forever – winding around on Route 6 for hours & hours.  & then stuck there for 28 days – group meetings, one-on-one counselling – & my counsellor was no mellow Marc – it was her was or no way – & she was all AA – I learned within 48 hours to keep my mouth shut & only share exactly what I had to & just get through it.  Which I did.  & I really did need the rest & time away from the booze.  I admit that.  But instead of feeling “sane” like they promised, I just felt crazier & crazier.  & so depressed.  Incredibly depressed.

I couldn’t wait to get home & roll a joint.  & then I had to face the reality of being in my mother’s house – & being in an urban area like Shaker Heights – a rich urban area – so I couldn’t just go outside & smoke – even if the winter weather wasn’t enough of a deterrent – even if I went over to Shaker Lakes park – which wasn’t exactly close to the house.  So it’s been just a few hits here & there – although on the bright side, it’s really stretched this bag much longer than usual – it’s hard to believe that I bought this bag two months ago.  It seems like a lifetime that I was at Falco’s waiting for Teddy.

With this depression lately – & these dreams of Jon & Barrett – & my delayed period – & the pain in my side & cramps – my loneliness & god, everything else, I’m getting more & more tense, & that scares me.  I miss Buffalo much more than I thought I was going to.  Well – it’s not so much that I miss it – at least not in the usual sense of homesickness – there’s no overwhelming desire to go back – but I was decidedly calmer.  When I was economically secure – well, at least the wolf from the door from the door for another month, I was relatively stable.  I mean – I had my ups & downs – but generally I was OK – or else I could keep myself stoned enough not to feel it so badly.  But now – being low on pot, no rock’n’roll, no Chaotic Bliss to dance to – oh, I haven’t danced, really danced, in so long!  It’s been hard.  It’s gonna be a while before I can get any pot – I don’t have any connections here – so I had better get used to it.  I hope I don’t have to wait a month.  Or longer.  That would be terrible.  God, who knows what craziness I might go through.

***

This lack of marijuana problem is really getting bad.  I can barely get to sleep at night although I’m so tired I’m falling over.  And that always happens when I’m not getting high.  In fact, it happened all those years before I started getting high!  I just don’t know what to do.

When I finally fall asleep, I dream vivid, true-to-life dreams, so that sleep is ultimately just cancelled out.  It’s so terrible to sleep all night but to have such brilliant & dramatic dreams that you don’t feel like you’ve ever slept at all.  I wake feeling like death.  Every morning.

I dream – I’m in a room with people I know from UB.  I’m talking to a guy I knew minimally – we are getting to know each other – I’m enjoying myself.  Then Mark Miles walks in & tells me to walk somewhere by myself.  I’m puzzled, but he taunts me: “Are you afraid?”  So I go.  As I walked out the door, I am seized by a sudden joy –  I run to my destination & it is Jon.  He reaches for my hand & leads me to him & we kiss.  A kiss that lasts forever – We walk & talk, holding hands & I feel complete, secure, cherished & desired.

Later, my dream changes.  It is chaotic.  Something terrible has happened & Jon is gone.  I wake & my pillow is wet underneath me & it is time to get up.  I am more exhausted than ever.

I know – I know –  that Jon was the one & maybe someday there will be someone else but it won’t be the ONE.  He was IT, & I can never get back to that.  I might as well forget –

But I can’t – I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.

Another night, another dream.  Or maybe it’s the same night.  They all blend into one another.  I am sitting in the living room on LaSalle Avenue & the band is all there.  It is summer & the windows are open & there is a nice breeze – the curtains are moving just so – those Irish lace curtains Bard had hanging there – I don’t know why I can remember that – but I do.  It is the rehearsal before a gig & we are getting high & having drinks.  Barrett has the joint & smoke is swirling around him & he is reciting “Bold as Love” – “My yellow in this case in not so mellow, in fact I’m trying to say it’s frightened like me & all these emotions keep holding me from giving my life to a rainbow like you” – as he hands the joint to me – smiling into my eyes & then giving me a shotgun – blowing sweet ganja smoke into my mouth – but then it’s a different dream altogether –

If only I had a joint!  If only I could smoke these dreams away!

***

I hate sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea, not quite tired but soon I will be – it’s after dinner & I want to smoke a joint – part of one or a bowl and catch a little buzz & take a nice bath & go to bed & read myself to sleep.  It’s almost as bad as taking a bath & getting all warm & soft & going to bed alone.

I want, I want, I want a lover.  I want a kindred spirit.  I want my own place & the freedom to be Cori.  & the luxury of sharing myself with someone who appreciates me.

***

I must strive to control my emotions.  I simply can’t go around uptight & angry because I want a lover!  I guess I mean control the emotions that are negative.  I guess I mean controlling them to a degree that I can be upset – no, you can’t be upset & not feel upset.  I guess I shouldn’t even try to talk myself out of it, they’re there, they’re not meaningless.  It’s just I hate feeling this way.  I wish I could take it, be content – at least, not unhappy – when I can’t take it.  But I don’t know how.  I just want so much.  I feel like my body is open wide, screaming.  I wanna be touched.  I could scream.  I don’t want to go to bed alone.

I’m so tired.  Now that I’m working I don’t have time for anything.  Once in a while I get together with M.  He’s working here in Cleveland now.  I take the bus downtown & meet him at the studio & we go out for a bite to eat or something.  I never drink but sometimes I do a small line of coke.  M always has the  best cocaine.  I love the way it feels but then I never sleep & the next day at work I am dead on my feet.

M gave me a book, The Sensuous Woman, for crissakes, which I’ve been reading, & it’s really boring – nothing new as far as I can see.  I’ve been reading erotic literature since I was seventeen & this is really lame compared to Anaïs Nin & Francine DuPlessis-Grey & some of the other women I’ve read.  But even more so, how the fuck am I supposed to be a sensuous woman if I’m never having sex?   Well – not exactly never – maybe twenty minutes a week if I’m lucky.  & it’s not like I’m having sex – I’m giving him blowjobs which is not the same thing at all.  He likes me to “talk dirty” to him – he likes me to call him up when he’s on the air & talk all kind of kinky stuff to him.  Which gets real boring real fast, let me tell ya.  I was better off before.  Now I’m wanting it all the time again, cuz god knows, if you have it once you gotta have it all the time – like dope.  You gotta have your fix.  I’m so keyed up – I’m like a junkie.  I just want it & want it.  I am becoming more & more aware of certain men – men at work & men on the street & men everywhere.  I am vibrating right now.  It reminds me of when I was sixteen & Paul & I had just broken up – for the third or fourth time – & I was standing against the lockers in the band hallway & John R. stood next to me & I was so aware of him – his muscular body – everything about him.  & god, the trouble I’ve been in – the hurt – just about every single major hurt in my life has been caused either directly or indirectly by sex.  Yeah – really.  The way everyone hated me when I was fourteen & going to Manchester Junior-Senior High School & that prick Cortney Adams said that he had sex with me – which was a lie – & then the entire football team was saying that they had me.  I denied it – of course I did – I couldn’t believe that anyone would even listen to anything so ridiculous.  But everyone did – even my teachers treated me differently – most of my friends dropped me – just a few loyal girlfriends stuck by me.  It was a terrible time.  I almost killed myself.  I was only fifteen years old.

& It was just sex – cuz I was sexual & they weren’t.  Not that I was having sex – because I wasn’t – although I had – but only with my boyfriend – but I suppose that was enough.  & who knows how much talking he did.  But – more than anything – it was my aura.  I have always had a very sexual aura – I never really thought about it until Shera told me about it – although on some level, I think I always knew.  But that was why she didn’t rent that room to me.  She didn’t want a woman with my “sexual aura”  in her house.  I guess she felt threatened – although she never said that.  But what other explanation is there? So once again – punished for something that I can’t really control or help.

& it was the same in Gates Mills – very relationship I had was characterized by sex.  This is probably I somewhat hate sex.  I love it & I hate it.  Cuz it has caused me so many problems.  Even with Jon – the sex was so fabulous – but there was the pregnancy & I depended on him sexually & emotionally.  I probably would have depended on him less emotionally if I hadn’t been so dependent on him sexually.  But it’s all bound up together – sex & love.  I don’t know how to do one without the other.  I really don’t.  I mean – I know how to do sex without love but I don’t know how to do love without sex.

I think that part – or all – of my problem is that I’m frustrated & stifled in this life.  It’s hard to believe that when I lived in Buffalo, I had the freedom & the facilities to have sex every night but there was no one – & now, there’s two dudes right off the bat & I’m “held prisoner” as M puts it, by the house rules & moralities of my mother.  The irony is incredible.  It really sucks.

***

My mother has changed in so many ways but in many other ways, she’s the same person she’s always been.  The biggest change – of course – is that she’s no longer drinking.  I can’t remember her without a glass of wine in her hand.  Every afternoon – as long as I can remember – as she made dinner, she had a glass of red wine.  Probably more than one but as a child, you aren’t counting.  & then she would have martinis ready for Dad when he got home from work – UB when we lived in Buffalo & Wellesley College before he died.  Always a pitcher of martinis in the fridge ready for him when he arrived.  It was always a party when he was there.  Of course, lots of times he never came home until very late & she drank the martinis herself.  He was always loaded in those days, too.  & after he died – when she married Dick – that was completely “Days of Wine & Roses”.  Only Dick was no loveable Jack Lemmon.  He was a complete Dick.  I never met a man so perfectly named.

So now she’s gotten rid of all the reminders of drinking that she had & she is working on a crewel piece of The Serenity Prayer – she was always good at needlework, even as a drunk – & she goes to a meeting almost every day.  I stopped going to meetings with her because it’s just too annoying – she’s becoming the Reigning Queen of Northeast Cleveland AA & combined with her status as Her Most Royal Catholic Majesty, it’s just too much.  I get really tired of hearing “You must be so proud of your mother,” like she really accomplished something.  I guess she did but it’s like an anti-accomplishment.  I mean – quitting something – whatever it is – isn’t doing anything.  It’s stopping.  It’s not like finishing college or doing a hundred gigs in a year to become the best band in the world or writing a best-selling novel.  Stopping drinking is stopping drinking.  & nobody who drinks can deny that when you stop, you feel better.  & you look better, too.  My mother is especially vain – she used to be a model – & looking 10 years younger than she did a year ago means more than anything to her.  She’s always been really superficial when it comes to how people look.  Always dieting & always bitching at me – especially – for being even a few pounds “overweight”.  That has not changed at all.  & she is still totally uptight about sex & morality & the rules of the Catholic Church.  at the same time, she is absolutely chomping at the bit to start dating again, although she would never admit that.  If it wasn’t for AA’s rule about not getting into new relationships until you have a year’s sobriety – & she’s not actually divorced yet – Dick is dragging it out – I am sure she would be seeing one of the guys she’s met in AA.  But she definitely is the belle of the AA ball here in Cleveland.  Which she is enjoying way too much.  So I stay away from any meeting where she’s holding court.

***

I went out walking during my lunch to get high, smoking my joint like a cigarette.  But the wind’s picked up, it’s chilly & kept putting out my joint.  I saw the flashing light of the store security & I thought, fuck this shit, I’m getting outta here!  I’m definitely more paranoid than I used to be & I don’t like it.  I guess it really is a necessary evil cuz I really don’t wanna go through all the bullshit I’ll go through if I’m caught.  I really take a risk by smoking in the john, but I gotta take that risk or else I’ll go crazy.

Walking back to the May Company, I thought –  it’s been a long time since I’ve sat in a room & calmly smoked a joint, right & proper.  I’m tired of all this waiting for the right moment, looking for the right place – running to the john every half hour to grab a few hits – putting on perfume to cover up the smell – & then spraying the entire bathroom – which is insane, let’s face it.  I have a small one-hitter which contains the smoke but I am still paranoid about getting caught – which takes away from my buzz, too.  I haven’t been stoned in so long.  I just keep this semi low buzz that’s barely there – just enough to fuck my sense of reality somewhat.

***

There’s a pile of hosiery in the corner that I really should get to washing – it’ll only take a few minutes, but I really don’t feel like it – I’ll wear a pair of socks & my boots to church tomorrow, I don’t care – that early in the morning I don’t really care what I look like – I don’t even bother to put on make-up.  Man, I hate getting up early – I just hate it & for something that’s as much as let-down as church is – I don’t know why I hate going to church here.  I loved it in Buffalo.  I remember going to noon Mass in Buffalo – just wake up, shower, catch a buzz, put something on & go – I loved it so much, just sitting there in church, listening to the text for the day & singing.  Now it’s a drag – it’s an effort, something I do – not because I want to – but because I have no choice in the matter.  It just isn’t right – things shouldn’t be this way.  No well – put up with it a bit longer – maybe by the end of the summer I’ll be able to move out – I hope so.  It’s nice here – the good points are very good indeed – but the bad points are so very bad.  I mean – I don’t understand why having a nice place to live means you have to give up all your freedoms.

Last night I went out with Pat O’Hara, from the 24-Hour Club – he’s known as “Patty O” in the rooms – he’s originally from Buffalo – his parents still live there – but he went to a private boarding school in Virginia & college in Colorado & then dropped out & hitch-hiked all over North America & is now here in Cleveland because he had nowhere to go after he got out of rehab.   His older brother lives here – he’s a doctor – Pat stayed with him for a short while but recently got his own place.  He had a lot of reefer & we cruised, just doing bowls – he had a full tank of gas – it was like the good old days before you had to worry about gas prices & shortages.  It felt so good to be STONED.  We had such a good conversation – I remember bits of it – other parts I don’t – basically it was Pat talking – he told some good stories that maybe I’ll remember later on – some time when I’m stoned & it’s easier to remember – I’ll write them down.  I do remember that he used to be an I.V. user – he said that he would shoot “anything”.  “I loved the rush,” he told me.  We stopped for coffee & I asked him about smoking weed & being in AA.  He told me that the most important thing was not drinking.  “There’s nothing wrong with marijuana,” he said.  “Marijuana will help you stay away from alcohol.  The main thing is don’t drink.”  Later on we went to his apartment on Superior Road in East Cleveland that he shares with two other guys from AA.  His room was tiny.  We turned off the lights – more cosmic – but lamented the lack of candles.  He gave me head until I thought I was going to die.  I came & came & he lapped it up.  We fucked, long & hard.   It was one-thirty & I said I had to get home.  It was way past my curfew but it was worth it.  “Thank you for a wonderful night,” he told me.  “Any time,” I replied.

***

Eating at a diner with M somewhere along Route 6 on the coast of Lake Erie.  Absolutely the best cheeseburger ever.  Charred outside, pink inside.   Cheese perfectly melted.  White American cheese, like they had in Massachusetts.  Covered with onions & a slice of tomato on a hard roll.  Fries fat & greasy but needing salt.  Fastest service I’ve ever experienced.

This is America, like Jack Kerouac said, the small diners and beach side hamburg stands that leave such a delicious aftertaste as you cruise along the water front smoking an after-dinner joint – man, I love to cruise – M has a brand-new Audi with a kick-ass stereo system – he obviously likes having me with him although I really don’t know a thing about him – but I never ask him any questions about his life because I figure what he does when he’s not with me is his business & none of mine – it really doesn’t matter to me at all.

What matters to me is –

I wanna write like Kerouac – I mean, I wanna be THE voice for my generation – like, with Kerouac, you hear strains of Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker – the all-night joints in New York City before drugs became illegal & the talk all hype.  You hear the first tormented cry of rock’n’roll – whoever it was that picked up a guitar one night & plugged it in & blasted out his pain.  I want to be like that – I wanna write like a fast car with a six-pack on the floor, passing joints, tunes blaring on the radio.  I wanna write like it feels to dance all night to a good rock’n’roll band in some dive in Buffalo & then go for tacos at 5 in the morning.  I wanna write like a tight pair of jeans.  I wanna write like my first hit of marijuana in my lungs in the  morning.  I wanna write like the best rock’n’roll tune ever written.  I wanna write the best rock’n’roll tune ever.  I wanna write poetry that sings like music & prose that reads like poetry – that’s what I want -that’s really all I want.

***

I have been thinking of the house I should like to live in some day.  My dream home, I guess you would call it.  It is a house of many rooms – a tall city house.  Perhaps in Boston or San Francisco, or even a city in another country – I’ll know when I see it – if I ever do.  The cellar is strictly for storage – it would have to be a dry cellar, of course.  The first floor has the kitchen – large, airy – & the dining room & living room.  There are oriental carpets throughout the entire house – no shoes are to be worn inside.  There’s a fireplace in the living room.  There is also a piano in the living room – playing the piano daily is something I want to do the rest of my life.  There’s a large front porch off the living room.  Indoors, there’s lots of art & plants.  Comfortable furniture, dark wood.  Stained glass &/or cut glass designs in the windows so that when the sun shines through them, it makes beautiful designs on the floor & walls.  The back rooms are the laundry, sewing rooms & wardrobe.  I would like to have an entire room just for my clothes.  I would like to have that many clothes – to require an entire room as a closet.  One of the rooms opens out into a garden, where I grow herbs, vegetables, flowers.  It is surrounded by a fence & roses grow up & over the fence.  & lots of other flowers – I want to have a jungle of flowers.

On the second floor is the library.  The entire second floor.  Floor to ceiling bookcases & more comfortable furniture & oriental rugs.  Another fireplace.  More plants & art.  Also on this floor is the stereo system, although the entire house is wired for sound.  The back rooms are where the magazines & other collectables are kept.  There’s a small kitchen on this floor, too, so I don’t have to go running downstairs every time I want a cup of tea or an apple.

On the top floor – a remodeled attic – is my bedroom, which is just that – the room in which my bed is placed.  There’s a fireplace in here as well.  There’s another room up here where I can write in privacy – roomy & light, with a large skylight & the walls covered with a collage of my heroes & heras & other inspirational pictures – everything I need to be centered & productive.  Throughout this house there are plants, music, art, cats, a dog – perhaps a maid – someone who can help me with housework & sewing & errands.

There will not be a man in this house.  He will live a couple of blocks away & will visit.  When I ask him to.  & only then.

I think I have been thinking a lot about where I want to live because although I really like this house Mom has bought, I really don’t want to live here.  It is nice.  Shaker Heights is nice – I like Cleveland Heights better – but I don’t know if I want to stay here at all.  There’s something about Cleveland that just isn’t me.

Another problem with this house is that it’s crowded.  I know that Tish is going to college next year & Rocco wants to go to military school – he’s trying to get a music scholarship – so I am sure Mom bought this house with an eye to the future when she would not have a houseful of kids.  But still.  I really hate having to share a bedroom – share a bathroom – share everything.  So often when I’m playing the piano, I have to stop because Rocco needs to practice – & of course Rocco takes precedence over me – since he’s working toward a scholarship & I’m only playing the piano.  “Gregory’s needs are more important than your wants,” Mom is always saying to me lately – in that voice of hers – which is really quite insulting.  I know he’s her baby but I should count for something, too.

& soon, Helena will be home to prepare for her wedding.  Even though she & Geoffrey have been living together – although apparently not sleeping together so she be a virgin when she marries – really – she is coming “home” before her wedding.  I am not sure who is going to give her away.  Maybe Rocco.  This has been a topic of great discussion.  I think Mom should do it but she refuses to because she’s a woman.  Which is utter nonsense.  But of course the whole concept of being “given away” is utter nonsense anyway.

***

Something occurred to me while doing my exercises & listening to “Precious” by the Pretenders – my favorite album at the moment.  I’m precious.  I treat my body like I’m precious – bathing in sandlewood oil, dieting, exercising – I should treat my inner body like I treat my outer body – I mean, I’m precious & I am not to be given to just anybody.  Why not?  Sometimes it feels like I’m wasting time, especially in terms of the emotional risk I go through.  I would like to break my emotional dependence on sex.  Then perhaps I would be able to be fulfilled emotionally.

***

The Grateful Dead is on the radio.  “Truckin’.”  I haven’t heard the Dead in so long.  I used to hear them all the time – at Ellicott Complex.  What a long strange dream that was.

Been stoned these last few days.  Ya know – as much as I can be – which isn’t much – but it’s enough.  I bought reefer after a week’s abstinence & it feels nice.  AA’s a great place to buy weed.  You just have to watch out for the old-timers.  & zealous newcomers like my Mom.  Between work & AA, I’m pretty burned out by the time I get home & have a bite to eat & do my work-out.  I’m usually able to get in a couple hours of writing.  It’s hard – cuz after 9 or 9:30, this house must be silent – since everyone goes to bed!  & someone always complains about the typewriter & why can’t I just “write by hand”.  Also there’s always bullshit to do:  iron my clothes for tomorrow, write business letters  -always looking for a better job – take care of finances, etc.  Consequently, I get very little time to actually write.  It seems like I am always starting over.  Whatever it is.  & it’s not very much.  Trying to make the Chaotic Bliss experience into a novel but maybe I’m still too close to it – too many emotions.  But I do think it would make a great novel.  The great American rock’n’roll novel.

& I don’t have any place to work here.  I would like a corner desk, with cork lining the walls so I could pin up my notes & leave them there instead of having to carry everything around all the time.  I wish I had a desk.

See – Mom just told me to turn down the stereo.  & I have the headphones on!  I like my music loud!  I don’t care if it’s bad for me.  Some things I don’t care if they’re bad for me.  I mean, who cares.  I’m detached from soft music – I can’t experience it.  I want it there – in front of me – right now – so I can feel every beat – be every nuance – dance, sing, jump.  I wanna be possessed by it.  It’s my lifeline.