graceland's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That girl in the short slip skirt I got really high this morning and then went food shopping and ate. I'm still full. I overdid it. Trying to flush it out with some water. And apparently, I am a selfish biatch for buying myself a ticket for Miracle and not inviting anyone else. It's a sneak preview showing - 1 show, sold out - and rather than get everyone organized, I simply bought myself a ticket. Now all hell has broken loose with a number of people saying they can't believe I would buy 1 ticket to movie and not ask if anyone else wanted to go. My one friend said, "I see what's going on here. You're dropping all the baggage. What about after the movie? Are you going to go out somewhere? Can the baggage come or is this another alone thing, because I know how you like to take off and do your alone thing?" I don't mean to be like that, but it's true, sometimes I would rather go out alone and meet a whole group of new people than call someone I'm friends with and deal with the history. I have alot of history, always have. When you live your life like you may die the very next day, you make memories. Sometimes it's nice to go out without the history because sometimes having that history with you is like the elephant in the corner of the room, they know what I'm capable of and they wonder, twittering a bit on it like chomping on cables, if tonight is going to be the night that Grace pulls it out again. Watch her, what will she do?. Will she jump into a shopping cart and suggest we push her down First Avenue? Will she find out about an underground club and make us all go? History is something that never leaves you when you are with people who know it and sometimes that's a tug-o-war for me when I'm out now, because I don't pull stunts like that much anymore. I've calmed down. Truly, I have. In the way that I am able to. I don't know. I want to get dressed up and dance with a stranger tonight. To not speak but to dance close. A night from about 8 years ago has been on my mind lately. In my dreams and when I'm awake. I keep remembering being in this illegal club. Small space, no chairs, just a room with the walls painted black and some day glo splattered around, one bar with well drinks served in small, clear plastic keg cups. I remember what I was wearing, a black slip miniskirt with black tights and my giant platforms. Charlie's Angels 70's T and a red little jacket over it. I look so young when I see myself there, dancing in the dark, crowded dancefloor. Everyone was sweating, it was packed and the room was airless. I remember two giant black guys pulling me from my friends, and I can't remember who I was out with that night, but I remember these hulking guys sandwiching me, feeling large cocks pressing against me front and back. I was 22. I can't remember anything else about the night. Maybe I was on something? That time of year, I wouldn't have been tripping, I had given it up. I may have been on coke. Maybe someone gave me something and I don't remember it. It's bothering me because I keep seeing that image. My face still with babyfat on it. That outfit, that room, those men. Why that night? What significance does it hold? Maybe just a longing for a time when I was younger and naive. When men wanted me and I didn't get hung up on it, I just went with it. I'm not 22 now. It's hard to believe I was ever that girl. It's hard to believe that I made it 30. I glad I did. I like who I am now, in a lot of ways who I am now is who I always wished I could be. Confident, not caring, independent. There's just one more area in my life I need to conquer and this tranformation will be complete. I'm almost there and then it's going to be time to move onto the next chapter. 4:55 p.m. - 2004-01-31 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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