cellini's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Turns out that Mary is full of shit. My editor at SP1N is really pissing me off. It has been around three weeks since he told me to move ahead on the Ch1nchilla C@fe story for $500, and greenlit two, much bigger stories without clearly saying what he was paying for them. One of them, on B1g Lurch, I had pitched with a $2k fee and around $1,600 in expenses. The other, I could sell for a few thousand bucks to any of several outlets with a bit of work. Since then, he's been MIA. I sent an email asking for clarity on budgets, no response. I sent a follow-up last Sunday, he said he'd have an answer in a few days. Meanwhile, I've delivered the Chinchilla C@fe story after a fuckload of work. Still waiting for any acknowledgement of having turned in the story, let alone edits or comments. I have about $400 in the bank at this point. I am desperate. SP!N Magazine, while they have asked me to write all sorts of shit for them, is a half-assed, mickey-mouse outfit that cannot decide what they are publishing or how to proceed once they have decided to publish it. The new features editor has no real power. The promises of assignments to do real journalism and paying for it are total bullshit. So now I'm just applying for jobs. I'm out of steam and money to work on the book. I need a real salary again to re-charge. Literally, I'm out fishing for food. If I apply myself to it, I should be back in the $75 to 90K salary range doing quantum industry communications, or possibly some general tech marketing bullshit. Mary from summer camp called me a few weeks ago. She's running experiences and events at some estate in NoVa now. Some place owned by American University. She went after me when I was 8 or 9 years old, at summer camp, and stayed after me for years. I was too young and confused to really get it. We reconnected when I was around 28 or so. She became best friends with Trish, who was my wife. I got along well with her husband, but they split up about seven years ago. So I had this series of phone calls with Mary. Last fall she talked about how her current husband was violent and hit her. I told her to get the fuck out. A guy at that point in his life isn't likely to change. In our last call, she talked about how much she loves me, and wants to see me. She remembered how I was when I was around 12. And that was apt, because fundamentally I'm pretty much the same. I want to look at bugs, and play with dogs, and I like girls, and I would like to be with a girl who is ok with me looking at bugs and playing with dogs and snuggling a lot with that girl. "Give me a day to come up and see you and I'll be there," I said. It's been a while and she did not give a day. Mary was born in India. She was given up for adoption and wound up in the hands of Mother Theresa. Then she was adopted out to the US. Her parents ran an organization, the Washington 3thical S0ciety. She fantasizes about life with me, the figure from her childhood. She calls, invites me to come up. She cannot muster the stuff to select a date and time for me to come. The abusive husband is still there. What would I do if Mary was free and clear and actually wanted me to come to her? It wouldn't be a perfect match. We have sexual interests that are... mismatched. But I would probably do it. If she said, "J@xon, please come move in with me right now and be here in my life" I would probably agree. What would Mary do if she knew that I would say that? Perhaps I should tell her. It would probably only complicate her situation with her asshole, abusive husband, given that she is the adoptive daughter of his child. Who is now 18, at least. And is actually good friends with both of my kids. I had such high hopes for this thing with SP1N Magazine. But this editor has proven to be such a weak, shitty dipshit in spite of his high-handed goals. I don't even know when or if I'm going to be paid for this story that I've actually handed in a few days ago, let alone whether they are going to pay me for the other stories I've been working on. These people are idiots. At this point, I can't even do the B1g Lurch story because I'm out of money and cannot possibly travel to California for a prison interview just hoping that they will reimburse me for the expenses afterward. Alex is MIA. She gave me the bare minimum response this past week about how rough it is getting a nursing job and testing clean for pot and clearing the medical review for her other various issues. It might be a fun thing that Alex and Mary and whomever are opting out of. I go to thrift stores, I shop for silver plate and china and for music and art. Sometimes I buy a painting or a print. I go fishing. I stay out til the sun goes down and I walk back along the trail and I count the toads and photograph the snakes and I slink along the riverbank and see the otters and the beavers and the minks. I go to concerts. I see random punk bands, and Sh@gwuf put on a show just for me and my story for SP1N a few days ago. That was actually one of the ten best live shows I've ever seen. They were fucking killing it, with every note perfect. And then it turned out that they were recording a live album through the whole show. That they were playing because I had asked them to give me a video where they were killing it live as a three piece. It's a pretty fun world to be in. Bands and fine silver and china and fish and art and cooking fancy recipes from the 19th century. Wouldn't someone else like to come do this with me? I just don't understand. I know that who I am and what I like is sort of strange. I never thought that who I am was so strange that literally no woman in the world would want to have anything to do with it. I thought that there were lots of chicks who would like to watch Antiques Roadshow in bed with me and then wake up later to look for Spode and Royal Doultan at thrift stores. There are not. Literally nobody wants to sit in bed with me and watch Britcoms, or arrange silver and china in a nice tea cabinet after I have brought her to orgasm on waking up. I just want one, who actually stays. Mary could just ask me to step into her life and I'd actually be there. Note that this is distinct from M@ry Burrus, who is 16 or so years older than I am and who became very mercenary in our relationship and who made the "I suck your dick" speech, which, for me, ended it. 3:50 a.m. - 2023-05-09 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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