2000-12-19. can you say "wallowing"?
=======
**Hi kids! Do you like violence? Do you wanna see me stick nine inch nails through each one of my eyelids?**

Yes...It's me. Why do I get snippy when I have to repeat myself? I hate that.

I wish I could melt into the floor. Just turn into Mercury and disappear.

I feel wierd that people read this like little elves. Coming and going quietly and stealth like. My counter goes up, but I see no evidence of anyone being here... What a wierd feeling. Well, Joe says I like hearing myself talk. What he doesn't know is all I want is someone to listen (and possibly respond...). I hate feeling alone. I don't know if I've ever said that before...

If I were to hide under my desk, would anyone really notice I was gone?

Why is it once a month I freak about money really bad - and it's always BEFORE the bills come? I just MUST go shopping sometimes. I can't take it, I go crazy. I need to have a lifestyle to where I can afford to just blow some money once a month. See, Alyx thinks I'm all good with money and stuff. But I'm not. I'm trying SO hard to take care of it all since he can't (we'd be in trouble - he's worse than me), but I'm afraid I'll let him down. Of course I also need money for very large ticket items now, so we're stuck.

I think I'm always afraid of letting someone down...

Once a month 'Mandi the Malcontent' comes out in full force...

And I haven't even started my period yet...

So maybe the truth of it is: I am fine for like two weeks. Then - BAM! My friends Freaky and Bitchy stay over for a while.

We didn't catch the mouse... We hope the cat scared it off. We let her run around our apartment for a while.

I sent my invitations for my new years party... Finally... I didn't even realize that there was a little link on my email page that says "Send Invites". Doh! When I searched the net, of course, this page didn't come up... So I sent them. It's kinda scary. Well, it's a lot scary. We have a lot to do. I think I'm gonna tackle a lot of it tonight.

I need to collect myself. Focus. Goals...

I feel like I'm lost in the pit right now. Like I did the morning of my birthday. Like I could just cry. My life, while steadily stepping up another and another step, is feeling like bullshit. I go to this stupid job and do their stupid chores and still don't feel like I have any money. I can't go on auditions because I need to be at work... Alyx's job sucks and it's stressing ME out, too. I just want the damn loft to be CLEAN! I feel so small and meaningless sometimes. I think that's why I just want to go out and spend time with Alyx all the time - he always makes me feel so good and do special...Yesterday we're going down in the elevator at Macy's and I'm in my jacket and scarf and viking braid hat, laiden with bags, tired, dirty, no make up, and Alyx just starts stroking my cheek. I close my eyes and get lost in his touch. I felt like one of his sculptures for 30 seconds. I open my eyes and he whispers "you're so beautiful"...

He makes me feel like such a princess.

Then I come to work and feel like shit. The only acting I'm doing is that I don't want to vomit on all of their papers and jump up on their desks and take a big leak.

Last week, I went up to the 9th Floor to get some crap or something that they forgot to tell me about the other 8 times I went up there. And as I got off the elevator there was a herd (like 50) little old ladies, tittering in Russian or Polish or something, running at breakneck speed down the hall to the elevators. I was freaked. I ran into one of the designers on my way back down and mentioned it. He said they do it every day. Coming out of what is some doorway to the shoe company on that floor, possibly their factory area, who knows. "They just really want to get home," he says to me.

That's when I feel bad for complaining...It was one of the most frightening (and of course hysterical - it was like Godzilla) things I've ever seen.

Of course then again I KNOW better! I KNOW I can do something else! Something I love! I just can't make money doing it yet...

Does that make me a tortured artist, or just your typical actor in New York?

Don't answer that - I don't want to hear it...