After midnight, we gonna let it all hang out
11:55 p.m. - 2002-12-14
I received 3 phone calls on my cell phone today from 3 different people. All of them were looking for Mary. One of them left a message telling her Happy Birthday. So, Mary if you�re out there�you gave out the wrong number! Oh, and Happy Birthday.
I keep thinking about all these cool things that I want to write about. As soon as I sit down at the computer, it leaves me. I�ve been reading a lot of diaries where people just list things about themselves. Given my fondness for lists, I think I�ll be doing that all this week. So, stay tuned if you want to know things about me that I wouldn�t normally reveal.
I have to be covered all the way up to my neck in bed. When I was little, I convinced myself that the monsters couldn�t get you if you were completely covered up.
I have a fetish for Q-Tips. I have to have one as soon as I get out of the shower. Being near water (washing dishes or washing my face) also makes me urgently have to have one. I have rubbed Q-Tips so hard in my ears that they came out with blood on them.
I have trouble being financially responsible. I have gone weeks without updating my checkbook. I am the breadwinner and sole provider for my daughter, but I prefer to be unaware and ignorant about my finances.
I enjoy popping pimples and squeezing blackheads. I am fascinated by this one blackhead that forms on my mom�s shoulder. It becomes a huge bump that is irresistible to me. When I squeeze it, it�s the hugest bunch of shit that comes out. It keeps coming out for as long as I squeeze it. Before I squeezed it, my father did it. He would swear to her that her brains were coming out of that damn hole. By the way, I believe I get the Q-Tip and the squeezing /popping thing from my father. He would pull off his own toenails. He was constantly picking at himself. He would tie strings around things that were growing on my mom. Once he thought he lost a Q-Tip inside his ear. We finally found it somewhere in the house. My brother also has similar tendencies including pouring peroxide into his belly button to watch it fizz.
If I hang around with someone who has an accent (any kind of accent Northern, Spanish, Ebonics, Chicano), I will pick it up. Sometimes that person will think that I am making fun of them and get offended.
I feel nervous when I�m going up staircases and people are behind me.
I cry during fire drills.
The first time I was married, I had an affair. If I had to do it all over again, I would still have the affair. Now that I�m older and less naive, I realize that he was having lots of affairs while we were married.
About three years ago, I chose to end an unwanted pregnancy. When I told the guy, he wanted to raise the baby (I had already ended the relationship.). So, I lied and said I wasn�t pregnant after all. Two months later, he was shot and killed while he was asleep in some girl�s apartment. A few months later, I ran into the girl. She had tattooed his name, birth date and death date really big on her shoulder with a rose.
Sometimes I think about moving very far away and starting my life all over again.
It surprises me when people tell me that I�m a good teacher or a good mother.
I am not as aware of current events as I should be.
I can eat an entire box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese by myself.
I�ve always envied people with strong cultural ties.
I get obsessed with things. Once I got obsessed with rubber stamping as a hobby. I spent hundreds and hundreds of dollars. I have been at the mall at 4 a.m. to wait for a Beanie Baby. My daughter wasn�t even a year old then. Now she has all these damn Beanie Babies, and she couldn�t give a shit!!!
About once a month, I go to Classmates.com to see if my first boyfriend has signed up there yet.
I used to kiss my pillow and pretend it was Robin (from Batman) or the dark-haired guy from Adam-12 or Ponch from CHIPS.
I had a horrible senior year in high school. I will probably never attend a reunion. There�s only been one so far, and I didn�t go.
I get angry because I feel that people judge me automatically when they see the color of my skin. I have purposely gone through life not judging people by their exterior. Sometimes I want to wear a shirt that says, �I have no ties to slavery. My father was from Pennsylvania, and my mother�s family was too poor to own slaves.� My mother�s family was so poor that they lived near slave quarters, and associated with former slaves. If you�re not from the South, then maybe you don�t know that they would have been considered white trash.
At one point in my life, I read the entire Bible. I felt very close to God during that time. I never wanted to lose that, but I did.