Mama Said...

Lost and then found...

Today unsettled all day and then amazingly attacked by my mom, as if I were Jewel. I feel like it's so unfair. But what if she's right? She acknowledged that I am living up to my responsibilities, but not to my potential. As if she's only going to help me out if I do certain things. With "health" as a priority. But what about room for my own choices? To figure out who I want to be as a person?

What about happiness?

What if that's not the same as living to one's potential? Shouldn't I be able to choose?

I feel like this is something I'd want to talk to Narc about because he would understand where she's coming from in terms of ambition and potential and maybe put it to me differently. I miss him. Missing something I never had. I just hate that my mom did this to me. It's so unfair when I'm only doing my best.

Narc's TV

Later- much. Next day.

Flying Daggers, volleyball game, waiting in snow, High low, didn't change, lunch with Bezoukhoff, flood of texts, two quick glasses at Cheers and a night that bled into 6:00 pm the next day. (It's 6:18 now, to be exact). And Cutting Edge is on TV. Narc is getting ready to go to his improv class (now on Thursdays) and I guess I should go to. We watch too much TV together. I wonder if it makes him think I'm uninteresting.

No sex today. I wonder why about that too. Does it mean I'm uninteresting? Sometimes I'm not sure how to be. And I think I have to meet NV tonight. Kind of want to go back to Cheers in the interim, but have to fix my hair first.

adventuresociety.com

"The World is Made of Glass" -Morris West

Tom L.

(Tom L.)

Last night I totally fucked up. Didn't keep a single one of my New Year's Resolutions! Now my throat is burning from coke and I can't sleep and Narc is snoring next to me. Last night was definitely weird. At the very end of the night, at Cheers, two things happened. One-- that guy, Tom L. came in. Second (or I suppose, "Two")-- I decided to start drinking. This has to stop. I need to just set a number of days and decide to stop drinking.

Anyway, Cheers closed and the guy and I left together (sort of discreetly). We walked up towards Thaddy Con's (which was closed). I think it was around 2:00 am. Then we went to Manchester with a bartender named Willy. They promised to stay open until 4:00 am.

Tom and I got increasingly drunk and at some point the decision was made to go back to my place to "hang out" a la "a very medicinal evening." He didn't do very much coke, which left a shitload for me. He pretty much passed out, leaving me bored, restless and still lovesick.

I ended up talking to Liu on the phone for a while. She really came through for me. Then Narc came up on my call waiting. I haven't yet processed the rest of the night enough to write about it. I'm lying next to him right now, freezing my ass off...

Self-Control

Sill waiting for him to call. Still waiting for him to call. Still waiting for him to call. This is absolutely mind-numbing, mind fucking torture. Absolute fucking torture. I will give this until Thursday and then I will have to use every ounce of discipline and self-control that I have to not only not call him, but to not return any of his contacts either...

If and when he ever does.

He's going to do it just when I've started to heal from it.

Why can't I stop thinking about him? Why are dreams of that closeness from the Summer with me at every moment????

Arghhh!!!!

Ok--

PLAN A:
Take all of my self-punishment energy and put it into not eating. I'm going to empty myself of all of this. Purge my system of all this excess. No more whiskey seeping through my pores. No more coke binges. And no more heavy meals. It's going to be a lashing for everything about me that's me-- that he can't love.

I don't care if this means I'm fucking crazy. At least it gives me something to do with myself. Discipline. And I'm going to throw myself into impressing ProfPP with my paper. Only need to find a topic now...

God, I wish I had somewhere else to go.

New Year, New Me.

At B's place in Astoria. Just finished an awesome episode of 24. Jack is about to enter the compound to save his love, even as the Marines are preparing a strike on it. Arghh! Eeeek! Yaow! I am so hyped over it. That and the fact that I'm all anxious from my most recent encounter with Narc.

I feel so fucking lovesick. My stomach feels so queasy when I think about it although I don't know why. It just doesn't make any fucking sense. I guess I should backtrack a little though.

Last week I was stuck in bed with the flu. The week before that I was in Puerto Rico with my family and Hammer. Not a super-eventful trip except that it filled me with wanderlust and some bourgeois self-hatred.

The trip started off New Year's Day. Liu was here for New Year's Eve and the two days prior. It was a very coked up visit. December 30th was the "Billy-boy" encounter. He was so cute-- a British boy. He fucked so hard. It was awesome. Two days later I glimpsed myself naked in the mirror and I had two enormous purple bruises on my belly from getting banged against the kitchen counter. On top of that, I found out later that he's only 19-- a fucking baby! Oh well... It was fun. He was so sweet. Bought me flowers and kept trying to impress me. Left me $100 to pay for his coke too... a sweet guy.

Anyway, the only weirdness for me was that he's the only guy besides Narc that I slept with since I told Narc in November that I love him. It confused me and I definitely felt guilty and torn about it. But, what could I do? Narc made it pretty clear that there's "nothing more for us" and that he doesn't want me because my "life is shit" and I don't even approximate the "muse" that he's looking for.

So... I was resolved to forget about Narc. And what better way than with the adorable (and excitable) Brit? All of that life is meant for 2004, though. I'm determined to get my shit together in the new year. No more drugs, and the drinking has to get under control. Puerto Rico was good for me in that way. In some ways, so was the flu. But then there was Narc this weekend. He texted me on Friday: Out and about tonight? I wrote back the next afternoon that I was asleep-- taking it easy lately.

Went to the Frick and saw the new Raphael. Brilliant.

That night I stopped in at Cheers to say hi to IrishBird. Stayed for too many drinks-- my first real debauchery of 2005. Took myself home by midnight.

Narc had texted me around 9:30:
Thought we might catch up at some point.

I wrote back:
New Year. New me. Don't want to fall into the same old, same old.

Then I called him. He called back, said we don't have to sleep together and offered to come up by me. WHAT?!?! Is this the same guy??? Ok. He won me over with that-- big time. I felt heard. So nice.

Anyway, I went down there. Got wasted. Probably embarrassed myself big time. I can't worry about that too much. But, I woke up with him the next morning. It was so sweet to be held by him. I just love that feeling more than anything. So much so, I don't care how fucked up everything else is. The only thing that makes me nervous is how I can't get it off my my mind now. Well, not exactly-- he's not really on my mind. It's more like he's on my chest. And I feel so anxious. I feel so out of control with him. I hate the anxiety that comes with feeling out of control. But, maybe that's the very feeling that I'm seeking because I always end up in situations that create that dynamic for me.

Last night I couldn't sleep at all. I wanted so badly to call him, but I didn't. I have to be okay with all of these space, you know? Even if I'm not. I called today though, and asked if he wants to go to the Whitney. If he doesn't call back soon, or if he avoids the issue or says no, I'll know that nothing has changed and I really am just a "call girl" of sorts for him. My fingers are crossed on this one.

I finally fell asleep last night with him in my dreams. I kept thinking about kissing him. About how we used to kiss in the Summer. Just so much kissing. And the sweetness of the thought enveloped me and at around 4:00 am, I was finally lulled into sleep.

Today the nervousness (or anxiety) is back. I'm nervous being at B's tonight. I don't know if I'm going to be able to sleep and I can't watch TV all night. I might have to take some sleeping pills. It's 10:30 and I still feel so wound up.

God damn it. I just need him to give me a chance. I hate the way he thinks of me. It's hard for me to be myself. And I miss myself so much. I so badly need to get my singing back in shape. I cried about that all afternoon. I sang my mezzo arias really well, but that stupid vocal chink is making my passagio really difficult. Parts of "Donde Lieta" were just unbearably exhausting. And my diaphragm is so fucking weak that everything wobbles way too much. I just don't know if I have the energy to jump in and fix all this, but I have no choice. I have to try because I don't know who I am when I'm not singing. I want my voice to be free again. It's the only time I feel purely happy. It relieves all this anxiety. And I have to stop burying my anxiety in the bottle.

I won't die like my dad.

I'll never let it happen.