diary book, page 1
(this
was written 03.19.99)
hi. I've decided, with much trepidation. to start putting in the journals of mine that I'm typing out for a possible book of some sort some day. take into consideration that there are many mistakes in there as I'm not the worlds best typist. these words are typed out exactly as I wrote them in my journal, so there might not be the best sentence structure. and there is MUCH bad poetry, bitching, complaining and ridiculous embarrassing statements like "will I be the spokesperson for the 90's". ( god, I was 22, so gimme some slack! I had high ideals! haha :) much much embarrassing emoting girl stuff going on here. this was TEN TEARS AGO. also, I feel like I want your opinions on if this is interesting to u, but then again, I DON'T want your opinions..because I'm afraid you'll think it is really boring and average and not worthy of being material for a possible book. and my fragile ego ( when it comes to this) might start second guessing myself on whether or not I'm deluded enough to think this stuff could be a book. and it might be that I'm deluded, but I don't know if I want to hear that..right now. 'cause this is just the raw materials. and u can do a lot with raw materials. I might shape this stuff into something..in very many different ways. but of course, you know, I WANT your opinions, 'cause silence is devestating. but…you know what I mean? typing out these journals is definitely a headspin to me on how far I've progressed..and not… :)
oh, and i also want to say that there is so much not written about in these journals. especially in these parts because i had just started writing and didn't feel comfortable with it yet. there is SO much left out of the 7 months i was a stripper. i'll have to fill in those parts someday. and also, i only wrote about the GOOD stuff involving Cris ( who was my boyfriend at the time) because he lived with me and would read my journals. he was very violent and i wouldn't write about any bad stuff regarding him because of fear.
even if i never make a book from this, i think that going back and revisting my past could help me get a better grasp on what old patterns i slip into and might give me insight to break those patterns, as enough time has gone by since writing these so i can have a better perspective.
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9/15/88 ( 5 days after the new moon)
I'm nervous again. i've woken up to call partytime( the stripper agency) to see if there's any work today they said maybe they'd call me back. i hate not knowing. i hate being on call. i took a xanax 'cause i deserve it. i've been working really hard trying to get into better shape, shaving off all my pubic hair, dying my hair a normal colour,buying g-strings, practicing dancing.
9/22/88 2:07am
well, fuck, i've been so busy i can't even write in this. it's crazy. i get up around noon or one and leave. then i'm not back till 3 or 4 in the morning. i've been going out of town so much, austin, mankato, green isle, stonelake wisconsin, lochness wisconsin, tomorrow..cannon falls. being a stripper is a lot less mentally harming and exhausting than i thought. mostly i've been going crazy because i have no time to do anything. i need to sing, play my guitar, draw, write, clean my room, watch tv, see my friends,make phone calls. i don't see how these women do this on only one day off a week. i asked for three days off next week 'cause i'm going crazy. i'm making a lot of money, though. $80 to $150 a day. i can buy lots of things. i take a lot of cabs and eat out a lot without thinking about it. it's great. i feel rich. the strippers , so far, on the whole have been very nice and helpful, with the exception of a few who are very cliquey( however you spell that my handwriting gets worse and worse). most strippers have fake silicon breasts, blonde hair and tanning booth tans. I, obviously, look quite a bit different. but guys seem to like me ok. I get by a lot on my personality, I think. most girls don't have much for personality( with a few exceptions) but they are nice all the same. also, when i started i expected, somehow, everyone to be a lot older than i am. but many are young...18 to my age( 22). some, stereotypically, have come from harsh backgrounds ( alcoholic families, incest, rape). some are hooked on drugs ( cocaine) but i haven't seen a lot of that yet except one at stone lake, a very dukes of hazard deer-huntin' town. i'm sitting on my bed with cris asleep by me. black light, candle, smoke a bit of pot to make me tired. i got off from the first time at the payne reliever today at 10:30pm , so today i got to clean my room and write in here. i finally ate a decent meal , too, when i got off which makes me feel much better since i haven't been eating AT ALL for about two weeks. i've been trying to excersise but haven't been able to ( besides dancing)---too busy. i'm sore a lot and i have lots of little tiny bruises alll over me from dancing. it really wears you out. plus i can't seem to be able to shave my crotch without breaking into a rash or cutting myself. i think i might just go to a tanning booth just so these little things don't show up as much. oh ya, i got kicked out of the king of diamonds two days ago for not having big enough tits. what a prick. i actually think the reason was because they thought i was a devil worshipper. they saw my pentagram ring and said " what does that mean?". i said it was an ancient symbol of protection. they just glared and wouldn't even let me finish my set. they almost wouldn't even let me stay. but i told them i had to stay because the other girl dancer was my ride. they let me sit by the bar, but i had to buy my own drink. makes me feel like going back there and splatter fake goat blood on their door to make them think i've put an evil curse on their stupid bar. too bad, 'cause i kind of liked the stage. it was the first strip club i've danced in that had those poles. and guys didn't give you dollar bills, they handed you some sort of special coin that you'd buy there. at first i thought everyone was handing me quarters, so i'd take them but not give them a dance because thought they were cheap. i have so much to say but once again, i'm too tired to write it down. so many things that are new, all that's happened on my job so far, my new house and roomates, this dumb performance art thing i'm going to do, what the hell i'm going to say to mom and dad about what i'm doing, and of course, the biggest thing of all, cris, my wonderful new boyfriend. he is absolutely the kindest, wickedest, sexiest, giving, loving, gorgeous, scrumptuous, delicious, exciting, intelligent, mystical, beautiful, considerate, unselfish, unpossessive boyfriend i'v ever had and if he reads this he'll laugh. i love him a lot and as i'm doing this job, well, i just couldn't do it without him. i mean ya, i would make it, but with him, a lot less pain. after all those asshole shallow men all day, it's the most wonderful thing to have him hold me in his arms and he smells so wonderful of patchouli and himself, and his penetrating eyes that are very deep and look deep within me. he's amazing. i really needed him at this point in my life. he's perfect for me. i needed love and he gives me so much. i have a lot more energy to do things and i need that! i don't feel so self-destructive, thinking about smashing things and death all the time, drinking drinking drinking---boy, there are some stories there!!! i've been drinking a lot lately again, but not out of depression, but because guys buy me a lot of drinks and it's easier to get into this job after a few drinks. makes you less paranoid and looser and more conversational. well, i have so much to say (as usual) but i have to try and sleep. night.
9/27/88 3:00 am
here's a picture of cris and i taken in september of 1988. mysterious, eh? i've finally a few days off in which i've done nothing but watch tv and buy a few things i need and drink kamikazis at the uptown with David tonight. make love with cris and drink wine. nice time off. i never do anything with music anymore. i'm not in that frame of mind. i'd have to work on it. music ( creating it) is so far away from me now. i hope i get that passion back. i can still feel it in there. it's just buried deep inside for now. it was too frustrating having it in the forefront and not being able to do anything about it. it was making me depressed. so i had to not want it for now..since i can't have it. i'm going to save up money and go to england. that's all that's on my mind and that's big enough for me to deal with. once again, i'm too tired to write, so forget it, or hope i will remember and write it later. writing is not one of my passions, i tell you, and i'm giving it a shot. so bye.
October 1st, 1988 5:15pm
already it's october. it's hard to believe. but i'm happy because this summer was so strange and sometimes very difficult. life has been very difficult for me especially since ed broke up with me last summer. seems like years ago. here i am at the payne reliever. i've just finished my sets and now i'm out in the bar writing this, hoping that nobody tried to pick me up. it's a whole bar of redneck st.paul assholes. what am i doing here? beats me. making some bucks, i guess. this is a weird job. i'm looking up at the other dancer's now and it's strange to think i was up there a few minutes ago, butt naked behind the plexiglass. sure beats ringing up fucking cash registers. it's nice to have a totally different, radically different job. if i had to have another retail sales job i would puke for certain. some guy that gave me about $22 up there is staring at me right now and i hope he doesn't get any big ideas about talking to me. fuck leave me alone. i'm tired and i'm not in a social mood. i'm listening to the music that's on. it's THe Pet Shop Boys "what have i done to deserve this?". i miss doing music. it seems like such a far away thing right now. finally Duchess got a hold of me. i had my number changed, then i couldn't get a hold of her because cris spilled water on my phone list. she managed to track me down after a month and i'm going to see her tomorrow. yay! but i don't know how i'm going to have time for a band right now---teaching her stuff, coming up with the bass parts, finding time for myself, doing this job and still seeing cris or anybody else for that matter. i guess my social life will jus have to go to hell. rock and roll, sex, drugs, and rock and roll. that certainly is the outer basic crust of my life right now. but it's good to throw myself into a high-paced life style so when i go on tour etc, i can handle it. i'm trying to get over my nervous condition. i'm getting better, but lately i've had to take a xanax a day. god, i can't believe i'm just nonchalantly sitting at the Payne. after here, i go to jake's in cannon falls which should be good because it's saturday night. but Jake's is totally nude, no plexiglass, rowdy as hell but good money. i'm gonna be tired tonight. soon--71/2 hours--i'll be in bed with my delicious boyfriend. mmmmmmm. i wish guys would stop wearing dumb baseball hats. i'm damn sick of them. worst fashion statement ever since bell bottoms or leisure suits. usually when i'm on an open stage dancing, i kick 'em off their puny brain heads.
October 3rd, 1988 6:16pm
i'm in mankato. i was just here two days ago and i'm sick of it. especially the first few sets there's nobody here and they all expect something for nothing. i'm sick of big fat men saying they want to get into my crotch and that they can satisfy me. i'm not in the mood for bullshit today. i'm tired and i want to get home. so i'm in the dressing room writing. maybe i'll go out there later. five half hour sets to go. Fuck. and i'm on again in ten minutes. seems like i just got off. i'm here with a 37 year old black woman named michelle ( Ilean) who's been doing this for 18 years! she's very beautiful and you'd never know her age. it's hard to dance with her because she's so experienced and i've only been doing this for two weeks. maybe should go out there and watch her and learn something but i don't feel like talking to anyone. Duchess finally called me yesterday. we learned "through the Sun" if she can just keep her act together things for my band should work out terrifically. i'm really excited because i see a way out. it made me so happy to do something with music again. it's nice to get my goals going again. i don't want to get stuck in the stripper trap. i think things might finally work out for me. i hope so desperately. well, i'm onin 5 minutes.
there. i'm done. a day come and gone like all will. as always.
October 29th, 1988
fuck me in your leather pants i want to be your kitty ( poems for later) haven't written for awhile. so hello. lots has happened. once again, i don' feel like writing it all down, i'm not the writing sort. but guess what? i finally kissed a girl, i'll write about that later, hopefully. and i've fallen madly in love with cris. before, of course. i loved him intensely, but something in me recently snapped and my love gushed forth so violently it has flooded everything in my mind with nothing but him. nothing left to do now but drown and love it. he truly is the most gorgeous creature on the planet. everything he does is so beautiful. the way he smokes his cigarette makes me stand in awe. i want to eat him up like a banana. like i'm starving and i've never had a banana before. it's truly mazing, this wild taste. i want to shove it down my throat, i want to shove it in every hole in my body. banana bread, banana pie, banana cake, a melting freezing dripping banana popsicle sliding in there. painfully sexy, sweet and sticky. flesh and food colliding and licking. taste it.
ok, i'll try to write something. i'm getting better at my job. i'm a good dancer. i'm getting in better shape. i'm less sore than i was but still sore. this job can burn you out , though. i don't have time to do anything. but i forgot to give Cill a schedule for next week, so i only work two days. i hope to do some music stuff. get some bass parts written so i can get into the studio, which is my main priority. once in awhile i get together with Duchess. so far we know "Through The Sun" and we tried to "jam" the blues a bit, but to no avail. it was funny i bought a rickenbacker bass. it's beautiful. it's so cool to have money. my life is basically pretty great now. i love where i live, the location, the rent is only $135. all my roomates are great 'cause fran and colleen are moving out and James and Cris are moving in, so it will be me and five guys. i'm gonna get a kitty, too and with colleen moving out i'm gonna get her room which is much bigger and pink , as well. i've always wanted a pink room. pink is such a calm happy colour. i feel like i probably won't be going to england for sometime because life is cool now. i mean, i'm making progress. silent progress. i know i won't do my band here. but i'm getting everything ready. demo, video, money, things i need---getting emotionally stronger. figuring things out so when i'm ready..Boom! i'll be set.
i can't decide whether or not to get fake boobs or not. i mean, i'd like to have bigger boobs and then i will also make more money on my job. i'll always have this sort of job to fall back on. also, i might dye my hair blonde to beat them at their own game but i'm afraid my hair might fall out. it already has a bit because of all my previous hair colours and i had to cut about two or three inches off which really bums me out. i've found out that my look on stage scares guys. i come out there all dark looking, dressing all in black with cleopatra eyeliner, dancing like a maniac and they freak--frozen in their seats. there is no look of stupidity in my eyes and they can't manipulate me or fuck with me. these men that go to these bars are suck fucking wimp ass mama sucking dick shits. they want some innocent yet slutty blow-up doll that they can jack off in to. so i;m going to try to dress differently and beat these fuckers at their own game. if that's what they want then, they can pretend that they have it 'cause i'm not going to fight any more at my own expense. i'm glad that those kind of guys don't like me as much because it would be scary if that kind of guy was attracted to me. but i want to make some cash. money is what i need and i'm a capitalist american. so capitalize it with a big "C".
I LOVE AMERICA NOW. IT'S DISGUSTING AND OBNOXIOUS. ABSURD AND RIDICULOUS COMICAL AND INTENSE. FAST FOOD PEOPLE ON THE GO. MONEY IS TIME. TIME IS MONEY. MONEY IS EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING IS MONEY. HEAVY METAL. AMERICA IS MALE. FUCK IT HARD. COME COME COME. FUCK WITH THE EARTH. FUCK WUTH THEIR MINDS. FUCK WITH THEIR SOULS AND COME FAST AND GO TO THE NEXT. MACHINEFUCK. AMERIFUCK. AMERICUM. PUKESHITFUCKSEXGODMACHINEGUNEXPLOSION. GIVE IT TO ME IN THE HEAD. PULL THE TRIGGER OF VEGAS AND LIES AND GAMES AND PULL TABS, UPTOWN < GUNS AND ROSES, THE 70'S EXCESS BIG BIG BIG BETTER BETTER BETTER BUTTFUCK. I LOVE THE WORD FUCK AND WHHOEVER DOESN'T CAN JUST FUCK OFF. THE 90'S ARE MY FUCKING DECADE HERE I CUM. BLONDE TANNING BOOTH FAKE NAILED SHARPTOOTHED VACANT SILCON TIT BUTTLIFT MACHINEGUN BIMBO BLUE EYED DEATH WOMAN OF THE 90'S. DESTROYING TAKING SWEAT MEAT FIGHTING DEER HUNTIN' RIFLE DICK DAUGHTER FUCKING RAPIST EARTH ROBBING BLACJ HOLE CUM SUCKING MAGGOTS.
i will pierce you with my eyes as you pierce my heart as i try to reach you--inside you to the dawn of time back when you were nothing and still are. you are dead and you will not thrust your death into me like you fuck your own daughters, as you try to rob their youth, pathetically attempting to grasp life yet fucking life like a leech sucking your own blood from your throbbing gundick. you hate your mother who gives you life, maybe that is why you hate her. but what can the mother do but be fucked? you are stupid beyond belief. i hate you. soon we will have a new president. and i don't give a fuck.
11/7/88
now it's november. today i went to see Spider, this tattooist, to see if i could be his apprentice. He said yes, but now i'm not sure if i want to do that. His house is very far away and i'd have to get a car, etc. plus it's $2,000 plus $1,500 for equipment. i'm always taking all these detours to get where i want but i'm just going to put $3,000 into my band. Duchess still hasn' gotten her act together. It's a bit better than last time, but her attention span is lacking. It's hard for her to work on anything that is hard. I'm going to save up and go into the studio and play the bass parts myself if i have to. then i'll make a video and then i'll go to london and shop my demo. Plan # 347. At least i got the tattoo thing out of the way. But i wanted to look for a different job. Stripping is getting pretty bad. It's not taking off my clothes that bugs me, it's the long hours and especially dealing with stupidity. I mean, i knew humans were stupid, but they are stupid beyond my wildest dreams and i have a low low tolerance for stupidity.
11/10/88 1:29am
George Bush is going to be president now and some guy named Quayle is going to be vice president. Some sort of revolt has to come of this. 12 years of Republicans is not a good thing. Not like Dukakis was great, but at least he was a Democrat. It's such a conservative age right now. I think my generation and all the new ones are some of the most apathetic generations this world has seen yet. I know i am. I don't believe i can change the political system and I don't care. Politics are bullshit, boring and childish. I want no part in it. I can't even write about it. Forget it. People are stupid. I hate people. I hate everything right now except for my room. I want to stay in here and hide. I'm so tired of stupidity. I cannot combat it anymore. I can't ignore it either, so i just want to hide. G'night.
11/12/88 3:47am
here's some dumb tattoo drawings i made the day before i went to see Spider. I don't think i could draw these sorts of things all the time. Today i had a horribly shitty day. No one had a car today to drive to Jake's so now i thought we were all going to get fined $200, but at the last minute Silver and Yvette found a ride from one religious "lust is evil" guy and another "dude" who used to beat up gays for a living. They decided to stay in cannon falls while i had no choice but to ride home with these guys and they were hitting on me. I'm so happy to be home. i wish i could write about this stuff but i always talk it out with Cris and i don't like to say things twice and i'm exhausted. All i can say is, I've had it up to here with guys hitting on me. I'm going insane. I can't possibly say it with enough fervour that it's irritating me beyond belief. I'm so happy to be in bed with Cris. Everyone else can just FUCK OFF!!!! period.
12/25/88
I haven't written for awhile. Cris is at work ( Tony Roma's washing dishes) and i just got done wrapping xmas presents, listening to The Police and I have some time to sort of jot down what's been going on. Basically, this month of December, I've been recording my record in the studio every Sunday, Monday and Tuesday and i worked only one day in Austin. It was hell. I'm totally broke now. I've been borrowing money from Cris. My album project is going quite well. It's amazing that I'm finally recording Sgt. Sorrow. It seems like it would never get done!! Just a few Extras to put on. I can't tell you how nice it is to wear clothes and have my hair messy! But january i have to go back to work full time because i want to save money to go to London in Feb/Mar/Apr. Somewhere in there. Then I'm going to shop my demo around and hopefully get a record contract. when i come back, i hope i'll only have to work a few days a week or maybe look for another job entirely. I hate my job so much i can't even tell you. I have dreams about it all the time. It's getting a bit humiliating and degrading now. I don't know how i'm going to handle it in January. I don't mind taking off my clothes, it's just the look in men's eyes--like wolves, demons, yet very stupid and childish. The stupid things they say to me over and over. Having to compete against the blonde barbie dolls with massive silicon breasts and tanning booth tans. I can't even get drunk anymore because I won't put up with men's boring bullshit conversation to get a drink out of them. So i stay in the little dressing room, staring in the mirror at myself till it's my turn to go on. Very boring and mind-numbing. It's the most mind-numbing job ever. When i come home I'm a wired up vegetable. I can't wait until I'm fee. I've been so stressed about my job and i haven't even worked this month. I'm just grateful for the money to record. I love to record so much. Being in the studio is almost like a second home to me. I hope i can work a lot in January without driving myself crazy and save lots of money to get to london as soon as possible. I miss it terribly. I wish i could move there forever or at least for a very long time. Cris is quite anxious about me going there. He's very jealous about almost everything i do, and we almost broke up a few weeks ago about it. But now he's getting much better and we're getting along even more exquisitely than before. The only thing that gives me a heartache is that i want to badly to move to london, but Cris can never do that because of his children. I hope i can handle not living in London for at least ten years, until his children grow up. I don't know, i guess i'll just see how things go. I love him immensely.
12/28/88 11:31pm
God, Xmas, families, aaaah!!!!!! Xmas eve I went to Cris' mom's and it was chaotic as hell. Kids kids kids, insane grandparents giving away magnets, drunken mothers, children banging the piano, jingle bells, the pain of old people trying to get their grandchildren to love them as much as they do and being completely ignored. the child paying attention to the new remote control dinosaur. then up the next day at 5:55am to go to the bus depot. Seven hours in a bus. But it was OK relaxing with food. And there was lots of forced intellectual conversation. Then Cris' grandpa died Xmas day so back again for a big cheesy funeral. Dead plastic rubber man--a shell that might come to life soon again to turn off the bad tape of a hammond organ playing "what a friend we have in Jesus" and all the fake marble in that room, so fake the light can shine through it. People were sad. The cemetary was freezing. I was freezing. Cris was gorgeous being a pall bearer with leather pants, big riding boots, black eyeliner, salvation army jacket with tails. I was wearing a black velvet dress from the 30's, bolero, my hair pulled back sharply, high heels and a long fur coat. Then i went straight back into the studio. I'm Almost done with it. But i've caught a cold and i;m high on antihistomines--jittery, anxious, high. So much family and i felt that they were looking at me under a microscope as i was trying to make a good impression. Nice to go into the studio and be a slob, be myself. Tomorrow is lunch with Cris' Dad. The Micrscope again, then to the studio, hopefully, to finish off tracks. I'm listening to Peter Gabriel. Ah. Thank god. I'm in bed with Cris. SEx has been so incredible lately. Cris and i are getting so close. We are like Brother/Sister/Friend/Boy/Girl/Man/Woman/Lover/Companion/One. SEx is melting melting melting. i almost could come during sex the other day. It was incredible. I love it so much. My mom liked him. I'm starting to like her husband, Steve, a bit more, but i didn't talk to him much. Took a Xanax to feel better. So much to say, so little time. Tired now. Much nicer. Now i'm listening to Kate bush's"Lionheart", background stuff for now. Two roomates have the flu--I'm nervous about that.
12/29/88 1:46am
I'm listening to Japan. I'm Almost done recording Sgt. Sorrow--just a few more tracks left. The next time I'm in the studio is January 8th. Sounds Good. It's weird to think i'm almost done being that it's taken me about 2 1/2 years to get around to it. It's an incredible thing to be done with. I've lived for it for so long. It kept me alive. Many times it's all i had. Now that it's almost done it's scary. What next? If i want to die now willl i do it? I have a good idea of what i will do, but this is such a huge thing for me to get over with. ya ya ya. I wish i could find the energy to say things how i want. This all sounds so bland and i am so much more intense. Listen to my music, I guess. That's my diary, sort of. I have a cold. Drag. Cris' shoulder hurts. I hate this colour paper i'm writing on. Weird yellow. My concentration is shot. Sentences allude me.