Walking to work the week before Christmas, 2000, I found a notebook on the sidewalk, on 5th street between Mission and Folsom. I thought to find a phone number in it and return it, but after reading it, I couldn't find any direct contact info at all. What I did find was a diary, spanning about nine months of someone's life. Here is the contents of the notebook, reproduced as faithfully as possible.
Yes, this is true. Yes, I really did find this diary on the street. I've included pictures of the front and back cover, as well as the first page.
This is the contents of the diary completely, except for a few blank pages and some phone numbers. I've called every phone number that was in there; so far none have lead me to Adrienne.
[Mispellings and things in brackets are mine; colors and fonts are as per the original copy]
[this page last modified Wed Jan 17 21:45:18 EST 2001 ]
i bought this notebook with a tiny part of the $100 i got from a lady named Danielle who hit me with her car on Market St... right place at the right time i guess, huh? if i'd gotten hurt bad i'd still think myself pretty fortunate -- ironic thing being that i was going to get on a 71 to Safeway to steal a bottle of liquor to get more dope cuz i could only get one bag earlier!!
Okay i'm back! me and michael are on a 14 -- i was up on 24th & Mission cuz i jumped in the Bart station on 16th to use the bathroom to do 3 bags (halelujah! a chance to finally get high!) -- i'll elaborate on that later -- and then i went up to 24th to use THAT potty and when i went up to the street i was going to this little store that sells Puerto Rico stickers and flags and shit but they weren't open, so i went to this smoke shop across the street to see if they had the stickers but no go :( and right before i went inside i thought i heard mike call my name (but i'm always thinking i'm hearing "Baby!", "Diere!", "Adrianna!"), but i did hear him! He was walking around up there looking for me cuz we were supposed to meet at the library on 24th if the main library was closed, which it was. Now i honestly don't know exactly what to say regarding the events since then because we've essentially been arguing non-stop... sometimes i feel like the shit i say to him regarding his actions, particularly the actions that disturb, offend, and/or hurt me
Wait a minute
i had to cut myself off cuz the 38 came to Sutro, so, duh, we were "home".
New subject
Back at the spot, i was attempting to get my dope ready so if/when those annoying park police show up at our humble little spot under the bridge, my shizzy nit would be safely tucked away all ready for its new home amongst my blood... the whole time, Mike sat there pouting, frowning, bitching, growling, snickering, moaning, groaning, gibbering, whining, et cetera, et cetera, calling me the most selfish person he's ever met (just to add to the long list of derogatory terms he'd already slung at me tonight such as scumbag -- for smoking, motherfucker, paranoid, and .. well, we all get the point :( ) because i refused to share my dope with him. Okay. Let me fill you in on tonight's previous events... when he met up with me on 24th, he spent money he got from a wallet he found on dinner @ Jack in the Box although i was prepared to foot the bill, so anyhoo, he was broke and wanted to get half of cheeva from the dude up there with the tattoos on his neck -- he claimed at first that he was sick although he dosed on Friday AND even said to me this morning/afternoon, whatever, that he didn't need to dose until Wednesday, he'd be fine until then -- anyway, after a bit of pestering, he graciously admitted to me that it was
mainly a matter of want -- understandably; i get to do all kinds of heroin every day, he's not doing coke, so why can't he shoot dope too? -- so we saw the neck tattoo guy strolling by just as we headed out of Jack in the Box, i got change at Walgreens (and a black SF 49ers beanie to replace the one i lost the day i got it :( ) and got a bag from him. i asked michael if he planned on sharing *some* of the dope with me, he said yes. we went to a space toilet on Market St. just as we got in this BIG, i mean BIG as in XLIGRANDISIMO! crack monster nigger shoved the door open and screamed "i wanna see some ID! ha ha i'm just kidding, then proceeded to chatter in stereotypical nigger/crackhead (what's the difference anyway? same shit to me!) ebonics fashion... so mike was being all demanding, super anxious about me giving him gear, i.e. cooker, lighter, etc.. and when he got it ready, he started to try to hit himself.. Okay. Um. Aren't you forgetting your cute little girlfriend? Yes, me, the one you promised some of that dope to? he was practically outraged that i had the, um, AUDACITY to ASK for some! he almost unwillingly gave me 4 units and threw a subdued fit then argued with me about it the entire time. Anyhoo.. so fast forward to now, after spending the majority of the time since then arguing and complaining about it, he said on the
bus just before we reached Sutro Heights that he doesn't "want to lose me to drugs," he hates heroin, doesn't want anything to with it ET-FUCKING-CETERA, ET-MOTHERFUCKING,GODDAMNIT-CETERA... then proceeds to throw a fit and argue yet again and even has the outright gaul to say "well next time i hit you i'll make sure i miss the whole thing so you get a big nasty abcess." Good Lord isn't that reassuring?? so the dope's cooked and all sucked up into two rigs cuz it won't fit in one, he's still calling me selfish and all its subsequent synonyms -- then i decide after he snatches the flashlight from me and throws it, breaking some glass something-or-other that i'm going to come up here to Cliff House so i can write in my journal in peace and without having to trouble myself with that damn annoying flashlight and smoke a few cigarettes and just be alone because when i ask, plead, then finally BEG him to be quiet and let me be long enough to get a few of my thoughts down here sans distraction, he freaks out and begs me not to leave... and i am the one with dual personalities according to him? i am the schizophrenic one? Hello! Re-evaluation please! Anyway. And so now i have to worry about him flipping out, bashing his head against the rocks or concrete until he passes out, taking a razor blade to his wrists, leaping off the cliff into the sea.. you get the point. i've had enough nicotene
for now and have used about enough sparkly green ink to say what i needed to so i'm
going to head back. The saga continues.....
Back for a second or maybe a minute... or, hell, perhaps even a darn hour. i left the spot for a minute so i could fix the remainder of my her-o-in ("hair-on" like the unevolved, lips - made - for - smoking - crack - sucking - dick, gibberish - yabbering, nappy - brillo - haired, pig - head - and - chit-lin - eating NIGGERS pronounce it -- Even the "supposedly" evolved ones with decent employment like the apes who work at the methadone clinic call it that! Learn to speak you pointless ass pieces of dog feces!!!!!) but i missed most of the shit i attempted to do, and of course, as has happened all fucking day, BOTH of my needles got clogged. Uh.. i thought, i mean, i was REALLY sure that my nicname was LUCKY !? hmm. anyhoo... to further enhance this evening's unlucky streak, the IDIOT fucking Park Police came to the beach to yell at some people at a bonfire. Niggers should go eat THOSE pig intestings (reminder: that is what "chit-lins" consist of). anyhoo, so i can't leap the concrete wall and return to the spot, obviously. i want to go to Walgreens or something but i'm scared to even walk past the motherfuckers!! They're just standing
there. oh wait, they just started their cars and are taking off. and that wasn't them i
saw standing there. it was a big fat pole or something. oh great, they just parked by the
stairs on Balboa that lead to Sutro Heights and the 38 stop. WTF? i get the feeling
they're going to give the underbelly of the bridge, a.k.a. the only place i have as a
home, a visit. MOTHER FUCKERS! peace, i wanna jet back asap so i'm there when they
"visit." SEE YA!
[heart] adrianna
30 march 00
Hey! Wow this Muni is fucking my hand writing all up! :( Well what the hell is up? i can't think .. i'm just a tad on the sick side (haha, "just a bit"!?) Uh well anyway, i went and stole a bottle of casadores from Safeway on Mission and Boondock St (hehe :) )... so hopefully i will be able to "unload" the fucking thing.. i can't believe it sometimes, how hard this liquor shit is to sell/trade -- and then the other day when i had that bottle of Herraduro, like $47.00 worth of tequila and i couldn't sell it if my life depended on it. so i had to recruit the help of some whore! wow she really helped! Yeah right. Anyway.. i'm just checking in for now. Hope this fucking goes down. Peace. [heart] me.
Hey again! well of course there weren't any mexicans on 16th when i showed up with my nice shiny bottle of Casadores so i had to go south.. the Donut shop on
20th, which ironically was featured in the SF Weekly cover story for its well-known deviance as a place to buy and sell stolen items (but there were talking mostly about how people sell video cameras and gold rings and necklaces -- an undercover went into the store and sold an actual gold BAR to one of the employees -- who the fuck is trying to sell anything to the people working there? Hell, who's trying to sell anything there? Anywhere?! Those cheap bastards will offer you five dollars for a solid 30-pound gold nugget if they even offer you anything at all, ha ha ha!!) and i walked around asking a few people... i asked these guys selling weed by a liquor store, this dude was really rad, he said his friend on 18th by the laundromat would buy it for sure, so he walked me down there and bought it... i think he said something about how he had to borrow the money because his friend didn't really want it. i appreciated how kewl that guy was because he didn't dick me around and try to argue about the price, in fact i didn't even have to tell him how much the store sells it for, he goes "yeah, $15 is a great deal, in the store it's like $40." Which was right on! so.. i just got a second bottle from safeway on Taraval.. i'm not sick so this one should be at least a bit easier than the last one to sell, as far as walking around goes ...
Hey! i didn't finish cuz the train got to Van
Ness and, duh, i had to get off. The owner was at Lakeside when i got up here so i was stoked to sell my bottle simple and quick and easy and especially because i got my price (he's so kewl like dat :) ! ) and the BART police (another example of annoying San Francisco "alternative" police who do specific "police-like" duties like the familiar ole Park Plice -- they aren't Rent-A-Cops but they sure act like it sometimes ) have been casually strolling on the corner of 16th and Mission since i first showed up earlier this afternoon so i thought i'd have a difficult time copping but i found someone... and it was funny because the *SFPD* were right across the street driving down the alley straight ahead apparently the whole time... but i'm not handcuffed and crying in the back of that car so either they didn't see anything (on purpose or accidently) or they choce not to come after us. i'm not complaining either way!
Man, JC told me to "watch" the space toilet while he runs across the street .. it's been forever it seems, i wish his ass would come back so i can go steal some more liquor and, subsequently of course, get myself more evil brown goo (why is it that the best feeling things on Earth are *bad* for you? Fattening food, alcohol (like St. Ides special Brew, not vodka & all that yucky tasting Buuuullshit), heroin, etc etc. Some
would argue, however, that the aformentioned aren't so much inherently evil as is their use in excess. So my addiction to excessiveness has led to several addictions to substances... and the consequences... eating too much fatty food made me fat, drinking too much alcohol made me disproportionately ill and took away my concentration from high school, doing too much heroin -- and/or doing it every day when i first start a run -- made me a junkie, just about burning my life to the ground several times, has caused me to turn to theft to support my habit and therefore has gotten me arrested more than once and, on the plus side, reversed the effects of my food excess by "helping" me to shed at least 50 pounds in a couple of months)...
i'm going to try to get more than one bottle so i can get at least $20.00... Herradura is good for that. JC asked me if i worry about getting caught, and if going into these stores all the time makes it so much worse for me because these stores recognize me but i don't think i do my two current Safeways as badly as i did FoodsCo and Andronico's... that's because you can't just go to Safeway and put liquor in your backpack in an aisle with no people because first of all there is rarely an aisle with no people and secondly, if there is, someone will probably be there in seconds. And with
Andronico's, the alcohol that i could steal was just SO good, worth so much on the street... i mean, Dom-motherfucking-Perignon. Lord help me, what junkie thief could have that in her arsenal and not go to that store 2, 3 times a day? Plus the place was just sooooo fucking EASY!! i mean almost humorously so. i'm scared of Safeway on 30th & Mission, they have security gates, i think, plus that's where that two faced bitch Arab security guard said that buuulshit to me about how he didn't care if i steal (i think that's what he was implying, i still don't even know) and then he's the one who caught me for stealing FOOD at Safeway on Potrero! Wow it's 7 o'clock already! When i got to Lakeside earlier, it was still light out so i was kinda worried that the dude wouldn't be there, that's why i was so glad that he was in fact. :) and there was some guy making a delivery or something standing right there, i didn't think at first that i'd be able to sell it to him. Ah well, i did! Anyhoo.. he gives me $15 for Herradura and i can fit those under my arms so maybe i should get two -- i could cover them up with my jacket and just hold them in my hands too, i suppose. Jesus, i don't even know if i'll be able to do it at al because a couple times there's been that big fat security guard standing
right across from the alcohol or over by the registers but in viewing distance from it. Time for a new pen... there. i wrote a lot with the last one, i wanted to look at a new color. :) i'm such a weirdo, aren't i? :) anyway.. should i maybe go to Cala AND Safeway? Nah, i don't like that particular Cala. Cala's in general just seem a bit intimidating because they actually put security tags on some of the liquor and this Cala up here has their liquor in a weird spot, it's like in a corner. oh shit, passed Safeway! more later [heart] me
Back! Wow! i did such a shitty job! i hung around reading a magazine for about 10 minutes... wait, i have to get a better pen... anyway, then i went over to the alcohol, had no choice but to get Casadores (my 3rd liter of the stuff today! ha ha ha man if i was still a lush, i'd be probably alcohol poisoned by now!) and i noticed when i first went in the store that there were no security guards -- after i put the bottle under my jacket (which, for some reason, got all fucked up so it kept peeking out, which made me have to fix it several times which made me look 5 trillion times more suspicious than i already do.. anyhoo.. ) i noticed two of them and i think i figured out who the secret shopper is.. uh, so i jetted out the door and the tall, kinda young black security guard was outside
on his way in through the door i was leaving from and the top of my jacket had slipped
a little bit so you could see the bottle kinda. i was all freaked out and shaking and
going nuts because i thought for 100% positive sureness i was getting caught. Even when i
got past him and down the sidewalk, i was still worried... cause those motherfuckers will
come snatch a bitch outside with the quickness... and i stashed you behind a newspaper box
on the side of the store so i had to sort of linger a second.. anyway.. it's over now.. i
should take a break for a little while.
Of course, i probably won't do any such thing... i mean, how
can i really? i need to get well every day. Maybe it isn't necessary to go to both of my
Safeways more than once a day.. i mean, that's kind of taking a bigger risk than i can
afford... Safeway isn't Andronico's or FoodsCo.. then again, it is in a way and i did just
happen to get caught at both of them. And i've been to FoodsCo and taken liquor a few
times since... it has been months. But i think they're on to me, at least they're
monitoring the alcohol now.
And they have a BIG black security guard now, not like the
decrepit old Chinese dude they had when michael and i were boosting their shit.
Well i'm almost to Lakeside so i'll be making tracks for now.
More later! [heart] me!
04.05.00
Hey! michael broke a bottle of Bacardi on this dude's face. some cunt chased us out of a
garage & kicked him in the legs and i'm waiting outside of Jeffrey's while mike sells
Red some jeans. ha ha what a day! i haven't slept -- then again, lately we've been
sleeping until 4 or 5 pm!
Well he's off to get a bag of coke... it seems like that shit is the only thing that really makes him happy. and of-fucking-course, i have to be strung out so he gets to use that as an excuse... anyway, i'm gonna go to the Gap and the mall to see if i can pull off a little thievery.. i'll be back i guess. [heart] me.
18 april 2000
hey! well here i am! haven't written in a while, eh? have i
even written since i got out of jail? and why are all my pens dying? anyway, i don't have
time to write... but hopefully i will soon (iffin i don't get cuaght!!) ... be back soon
(i hope!) [heart] me
Hey! well i got out safe... two bottles of Herraduro
Anyhoo! There we go, i FINALLY got a pen that doesn't make chicken scratch! so the SFPD got on the bus for a second, that kinda bugged us out..
hopefully we'll get rid of these bottle for a good price.. without much hassle.. it's midnight, so we may have a hard time. Ooh, gotta go. [heart] me
i'm starting to get really bothered by you. and the part that perhaps bothers me the most is that i have to write my feelings down here because if i were to try to talk to you about them, you'd snicker or say some bullshit and go "yeah, okay, you're right!" or some patronizing thing like that.. i can't even say a word about how i feel about the relationship we share that seems to be crumbling right before my eyes. And since you always have to blame somebody i'll stand up and accept 100% responsibility for everything. Every bit of it. Every asshole who ignored us when we asked if they like liquor, every bus that took forever to come, every crackhead who tried to fuck with us somehow -- every single little thing, i will absorb all the blame for it. it's all my fault, and i'm the one in this relationship who starts every single fight and who treats you like shit "85% of the time" (that was your estimation), and anything else you would like me to admit to, please let me know. Please.
Frankly, i'm sick to death of this repetitive, destructive, lifestyle. i feel so worthless and disgusting and useless, and essentially i am because any attempt i do make at cleaning my life up (however miniscule) is just forgotten by the morning. And you are certainly not helping me to feel any less of a scumbag than i already feel like i am -- but why am i even bothering to talk about my feelings!? oh yeah, that's right, because here in my journal my feelings actually mean something, i
don't have to worry about pouring my heart out or even peeking out of the peephole from inside my heart only to be shot down like so much dirty trash. i don't know how much more i can take... i keep trying to tell you about "the straw that broke the camel's back" but like so much else i try to talk to you about these days, for all i can see, you not only could care less but actually you seem to be annoyed by the very suggestion of me wishing you would respect my feelings.
And do you know what the really sad part is? i'm sure you don't because it seems to me like you live in this bubble where anyone who feels or thinks or says anything contrary to what you feel and think and say is a complete idiot to you and your method of emphasizing this close-minded belief is telling someone (or, rather, ME) that they (or well, i!) are crazy or just plain fucked in the head. Anyway, let me tell you the part of all this fiasco that i find extremely disturbing... i have to put my shoes on and walk... no, actually, scratch that.. i have to run as fast as i can down 15th St and around the corner to Potrero so you don't see me just in case you come running out after me.) just to get enough peace and quiet to be able to wrie in my jounal or read the newspaper or even just have some silence so i can gather my thoughts...
that's really disturbing to me because i really REALLY value my personal space and that's one thing i've really had to sacrifice to this relationship. God, i can't imagine how insignificant, trite, and idiotic you would make me feel by this in this letter if i were to be telling you these things instead of having to hide in my journal where i know i can say whatever is on my mind and i don't have to worry about being laughed at or called crazy or told "Yeah, okay, you're right!" you know what i want more than almost anything? i just want you to listen to me and say "yeah, i guess i can see why you feel that way, i'm sorry, i'll try not to do that any more." or "well okay, i get your point but let me tell you how i feel about that." instead, i get this childish rhetoric from you that makes me feel probably just as crazy if not crazier than i'm sure my mom felt when she was locked up in Mendota State Mental Health Facility. you really make me feel sometimes like i've completely lost my mind, like i am truly and hopelessly clinically insane and belong in a mental institution... And do you know the worst part about that (as if it isn't hideous enough just the way it is!)? i really seriously wonder if you try to make me feel like that on purpose. If so, you're a devious piece of shit who deserves to be drug 37 miles by your ankles tied to the bumper of a pick-up truck (that's an old
Texan saying)... i don't want to believe that you are a piece of shit, however, but what am i supposed to think when things are just getting worse and worse every day and i keep feeling crazier and crazier?
You know... i'm sure somehow you're going to end up reading this and the part that sucks for me is that after reading this, you're going to be armed with some pretty dangerous weapons against me -- and at this point, with things as they are and you being like you've been, i really wouldn't be surprised if you manipulated me into having my first nervous breakdown.
olize 750 ml = $1719
jack daniels 750ml = $20.99?
28 april 2000 AD
There are the things i want ... of course this isn't a complete list, and as things
change, i'll add or cross out or alter the list as neccessary. Now the question is how
many of my desires will be satisfied? we'll see. :) p.s. This list, of course, is not in
order of most to least or vice versa. Only from the top of my head as i come up with
them... anyhoo, here we go.! :) [heart] A
1. to be respected as a human being, as an intellectual, as a writer, and as a female.
2. a nice, safe, cheap place to live where i don't have to worry about the cops chasing me
out or going thru my stuff, etc... a place that i can make into
a home.
3. to go home to my mom and grandparents more than once or twice a year.
4. to have Tacoma back with me. :(
5. all the belongings -- especially my computer, photo collection, and CD collection, that
i had at Nancy's house in Nevada.
6. a little peace of mind every now and then.
7. a female best friend who will treat me good, make me laugh, compliment my figure and
hair and style, and who i can trust all my fears and secrets to.
8. some security.
9. to know that my youth isn't going to fade quickly.
10. to worry less.
11. to be less neurotic.
12. to be less of a gossiper and two-faced back stabber.
13. to be surrounded by healthy, positive, supportive, intelligent, wonderful people who
enjoy my company and make me happy when i'm around them.
14. to do something
[ many blank pages ]
31 june 00
Wow Kevin, i'm so fucking out of my mind drunk right now, i'm having a blast considering a
heroin high isn't nearly as out of control of something like this, and i love it, it's
been too long.
God i'm going to feel like a moron in the morning for writing this -- hey, at least we didn't wake up next to each other saying silently "oh Christ, what have we done??!!!" i don't think that would happen anyway, but whadda i know.
Hehe.
SO! WHAT THE FUCK, KEVIN! Why is this drunk idiot writing you a letter from so many miles away in Minneapolis?
i wish you were drunk here with me. We'd lay out half-naked on the back porch, chain-smoking Camel lights (I'm trying to quit :) ), quoting poetry back and forth.
Or just drinking beers, reflecting on the insanity of life.
For now, this lil cute crazy needs sleep. i really wish you were here. Sometimes i get real lonely and it's as if YOU are the only solution to that. Go figure. Maybe in Dreamland.
Love Adrienne
19 November 2000
Hey you! Long time no see, eh? i seem to have, uh, "misplaced" my entire
collection of gel pens (but we aren't idiots and even if we were, i mean, we could be
COMPLETE morons, i'm talking some Erwin league stupidity, still it's no difficult trick
figuring out what happened to them all... duuuh - ack, writing that particular word,
"duh." spelled like that just conjured up the ghost of Kimberly in my head. :)
). So, I can't even use my own journal on account of the black paper it consists entirely
of. What a major bitch. :)
Anyhoo so i'm waiting. Waiting for the dope, as if i'm not completely sick to death of having to do THAT. Fucking dumbasses, man.. i'm serious, someone has got to step up and start offering every drug dealer down here a course in "Drug Dealing 101." Lesson One: Crackhead Dynamics. Why are there sometimes 100 crack dealers on that corner and other times a motherfucker can't even locate a single one of the bastards? And that's only the tip of one VERY large and especially VERY annoying iceberg. There's oh-so-much to be learned by our entrepreneurial friends :). Most baffling in the ever-growing mental list i've compiled in my head since being introduced to the unique, completely 100% certifiably insane world of the San Francisco drug trade, why, pray tell, in the name of all which is holy and righteous, do those motherfuckers on 24th street GO HOME shortly after sunset?
Like, what, do they just have no clue whatsoever regarding the effect the drug they sell has on their customers? That would explain a lot. i mean, it seems so unbelieveably outrageous that they'd leave when they do if they knew about cocaine's effect on your craving reflex. that's gotta be it, nothing else can come close to an explanation. But the thing is, really, i could give a fuck why they do it, i'm pissed that the fact IS that they do it. i mean, fucking dumb fuckers.
Hi again. same old lazy as fuck Adrienne couldn't even pull enough ambition out her asshole to complete a retardedly (is that a word? Think not, Genius IQ Girl, try again!) simple task like writing a journal entry in its entirety.
You know something? i'm really scared to admit this, but i have to, it's been circling my head for a while now.. i'm beginning, i think, to actually hate myself. There was a time during the past 14 or so months that i've been living here in California when i may have resented some of my less-than-desireable characteristic tendencies and habits, but i've truely reached a point now where i can't stand who i am anymore. i sicken myself. Funny thing is, it's a wonder i feel that way, i mean, considering that i really don't have any idea who i am any more, and so if a person doesn't even know herself, how would she be able to harbor self-hatred?
Maybe a year and a half ago, that would be a relevant and valid question. As of now, however, it
feels like yet another of my constant attempts to avert cutting to the chase. And it's an excuse, too, not very surprizing, either, that it's as pathetic an excuse as the infinite others i'm trying to pass off all the time. i wonder who i think is buying this superficial layer of skin i've meticulously built around my real skin.
that's one of my few comforts remaining, the knowledge that somewhere, hidden by thousands of lies and excuses and lame affirmations i use to coddle my entirely rational fear that i'm no longer a good person, a person of any value to the world and even just to herself, is the REAL me, the me i am supposed to be, the me that my mom is so proud of. At least i'm fairly certain that version of myself still exists.. i'm frightented, far too often it seems as of late, that i'm wrong, and i've become something else, and am so deeply entrenched in this sewer i call my life at the present time that i'll never be able to strive for much more than this gutter.
And i worry that one of these days, some pissed off employee will be banging on a bathroom door for ten minutes and will finally bust the door open to find me dead on the toilet with a fucking needle in my arm. The actual death thing isn't scary at all. Someone is dying right now, and no matter what, at some point, when i reach an as-yet unknown page in my Book of Life, i'll die. What does scare me about that specific death scenario, well, two things. First of all, the likelihood of something like that happening is
a bit too much. Secondly, if i OD at, say, 20 years old, i'm assuming my current lifestyle won't have gone through any sort of revolutionary improvements, in fact i expect instead for an even more personal, hands-on tour of the gutter i am currently lying face down in, metaphorically speaking of course, so since things will just be similar to or worse than things now, and then i die, i'll give up my chance to show how smart i am, supposedly, by turning my life around. i'll die despising myself, i'll die a supermarket liquor thief, a junkie, homeless, greedy, lazy, angry, emaciated, and far far from home. And my mom wouldn't even know until probably weeks later.
Man, i regret even starting to write about a subject as intense and important as this one because it's "late" enough at "night" (at least the "just getting ready to go to sleep" definition of night) for the sun to have been up for about 2 hours by now, and Mike has been sawing logs next to me for about half that, plus i'm nodding out (and you don't even know how fucking rad it is that i am because it hasn't happened in months!) so, i'm outta here for now. i actually was just going to crash a bit ago but i'd only written half of this particular entity, which i hadn't done for about three hours at that point, and i had just been talking about completing something Erin Zweck simple like a diary entry.
Mission accomplished. :) Now i'm ready for a bigger challenge, but first, gotta sleep. Goodnight :) [heart] Drie
20 November 2000
Office Max? Drienne, i swear sometimes you do shit that makes it SEEM like ya got balls but actually, i think you're just some kind of idiot wingnut. But who knows, you do have that knack to pull shit (not literal shit of course, you silly bitch!) out of your ass at the photo finish you call life. So, we'll see, eh. crazy cunt? That's the best we can hope for.. seeing how the dominoes fall and which ones they hit on the way down. Start hyper ventilating.. uh.. hang on.. almost there.. okay! Now! Stupid bitch, you are sometimes, Drie.
Alright.
i'm sitting here on a 22 crying my fucking eyes out and my alleged "boyfriend" is busy talking to Wayne loud as possible about shooting dope... he said to him when we were getting on the bus that if he could have a single wish, it would be some shit about killing a cop and not getting in trouble.. go figure -- i certainly didn't expect him to say something regarding, you know, US or anything. Actually, i was anticipating some lameass
21 november 2000
Ha. i am one laaaazy chick, eh? :(
DAMN!! S.O.B... well, I am the SOB, i guess, can't blame others. Gotta head the FUCK outta this joint cuz i barely averted a very large crisis moments ago -- and i still can't even say that it's over yet..
25 november 2000
Hey you. Well, it's safe to say i have in essense had myself what you call a piss poor day. It seems like every attempt i make at kewlness, i get thwarted, painfully. now i gotta figure out what the hell i'm up to for the remainder of this evening NOW I CAN'T SEE, DAMN YOU, ORANGE PEN!!
Hey Asshole --
Just want to let you know that your little "stunt" on Haight St -- i.e., getting into a cab while i was @ Cala -- was the straw that broke the Camel's back. Drugs completely dominate your life and they always will, you haven't even made the tiniest effort to cut down on account of the fucking KID i've got in my stomach -- let alone make an effort to quite, ha ha, the day you fucking quit shooting drugs is the day Satan wears ice skates at work. You are not only totally unprepared to be a father but absolutely unwilling as well. You can't even give your girlfriend the care she needs -- and i am a fully functioning adult who can take care of myself -- so how can you be expected to take care of a wholly helpless little baby? it sickens me. this whole thing sickens me. i'm sick of this insanity
[ many blank pages ]
414-347-9691
[This number is disconnected.]
3.30.00
Observation #001: A Personal One
Before i'm preparing to go into one of my "safe" Safeways or Calas ("safe" because i haven't gotten caught yet and sometimes because it's somewhat easy and/or they don't have those obnoxious security guards at the doors) to steal, i have thie hideous annoying tendency to be overtly obsessive-compulsize outbreak; i tell myself that i MUST do all kinds of tedious,strange, crzy things. It's like "Don't step on the crack in the sidewalk" kind of thing except magnified tenfold into this disgusting example of near insanity. And i believe during these "episodes" that if i don't step on a piece of stomped gum on the sidewalk each time i walk or kick every cigarette butt that i'll get caught stealing at my destination. Today i saw two miniature marshmallows on the sidewalk and "made" myself pick them up and actually EAT them! And if i didn't i faced my worst fear as a career criminal,
3727 6143 3543 011 0403
4121 st RteE 00 219.997.6596
[A man answered this phone number when I called it He said that he interviewed a woman
named Adrienne for a singer position in his band about 2-3 years ago. He had no idea how
to contact her now. Please don't call him; he has already received several phone calls.]
415.554.7225
[This number is disconnected.]
sheriff's dept 553.1443
[This number is indeed the Sheriff's Dept.]
860.667.4310
[This number is not disconnected, but the woman who answered did not know anyone named
Adrienne. She suggested that she might have met her during a Born-Again Christian witness
program, but she wasn't sure. Please don't call her; she has already received several
phone calls.]
Observation #002: The Muni Saga...
An old man sitting in the front of a #47 Van Ness bus heading North tells two 30-something women as soon as they sit in the vacant seats next to him that in San Francisco (since they asked the bus driver a question about where the bus takes them, one can assume they were tourists), those seats are for seniors. So the women got up and headed to the back of the bus (where the bitter old man told them there were "plenty of seats for younger people.") with perplexed, astonished, and mildly offended faces. the sign above the codger's head reads "These seats must be "VACATED" for the elderly and disabled." That means that those of US with working parts and late birth years can sit in the frontmost seats if they're available until the elderly and/or disabled get on the bus and need the seat. There were even still some empty seats up there, including one next to that sour old fogey. The guy sitting next to me shook his head somberly; i took the opportunity to show off my wonderful-if-cynical sense of humor by saying "i'm glad i have the right to be mean and bitter when i get old." When the guy got
off the bus, he told the old man (who actually wasn't all that old save for his grey hair and wrinkles) that he'd pray for him. The old man turned sour faced and quipped that he didn't need to be prayed for. i said the same thing to him when i got off at California St., adding that i really hope i'm not that bitter when i'm old. Thank you for riding Muni. :)
Observation #003: "Thank you for riding Muni"
This one belongs to my darling boyfriend, Michael J Anatra:
There are two matching stickers on the back doors of almost every Muni bus that appeared just a week or two after San Francisco voters passed Proposition E, the Muni reform prop in November of 1999 that made the Department of Parking and Traffic and our beloved (ha!) San Francisco Municipal Railway one agency and gave the mayor (beloved even more than Muni, ha HA!) the power to appoint 7 people to a new board meant to fix our impeccable (ha ha HAAA!!) transit system a complete overhaul. i won't comment right now on the stupidity of my fellow San Franciscans for passing Prop E (after all, these are the same geniuses who put Willie Brown back into office!) or any other annoyance related to this particular observation because i'm talking strictly about the "Thank You for Riding Muni" Stickers. Michael said one day while admiring them, "Thank you for riding Muni? what other choice did i have?" :)
MOM's itinerary!
* Lombard St betw Hyde & Leavenworth Sts -- " the crookedest street in the world" (eight turns in one block). The Hyde-Powell cable car lets you off right on the top of it but it would be more fun to take the car!
* The Presidio, Golden Gate Park, and Lake Merced. The 43 Masonic and 28 Sunset go thru the Presidio.
The 71 Haight Noreiga, 7 Haight, 33 Stanyon, and 6 Parnassus all go to Golden Gate Park via * Haight St. Also, 21 Hayes, 5 Fulton.
* Ocean Beach, Seal Rock, Sutro Heights & Cliff House (we definately have to do this one!) i suggest we park the car out at the ocean (48th avenue) and take an N Judah street car into the city. the 38 Geary -- Pt. Lobos is the best way to get to Cliff House.
* Golden Gate Bridge -- we'd be best to drive but for $3-4 we can take Golden Gate Transit over the bridge into the * Marin Headlands.
* City Hall and the Main Library -- downtown @ Civic Center. Most buses go there. It's within walking distance from * Market Street.
The Zoo -- 46th avenue & Sloat Blvd, i believe. the L Taraval street car goes right there, also passes a notable "landmark," "The Doggie Diner daschund head."
*Berkeley, Oakland, etc -- we HAVE to take BART, rapid transit is SO COOL!
* The Castro -- very rad part of The City, all the gay people hang out here -- the boys are pretty, the girls are ugly, but everyone is really nice plus there are some gigantic palm trees in the middle of the road worth admiring. The F Market street car (different from the newer underground crs, these ones are very old, a couple are even from Milan, Italy circa early 20th century), 24 Divisidero, or underground K L or M streetcars.
* Twin Peaks -- yes, just like the old TV show: the highest points in SF, just like their name! They're basically twins. If you want to go right on them, we'll have to drive but you get great views of
them from the higher points in the city.
* North Beach, Coit Tower, and the SF Institute of Art. N. Beach was the home of the Beatniks, as you know (God, i'm startin to sound like a travel guide) it's the Little Italy of SF and very rad, Coit Tower is a MUST SEE, i'm not letting you leave my City without seeing it this time! The view is mind blowing and the artwork from the Depression Era inside is incredible. And the Institute is a one-of-a-kind architectural experience. 30 Stockton, 45 Union, 42 Downtown Loop and 39 Coit.
* The Embarcadero, Fisherman's Wharf, Pier 39, & the
* the new SF Giants Stadium, Pac Bell Park. The N Judah goes right there. We just have to make sure we don't go on a game night!!
[ many blank pages ]
9th of june, two thousand
dearest Baby
this letter is SO overdue. we get so caught up in our evil little world, scrambling so hard to just stay well every day (and maybe have a bit of fun with the whole thing as well, cuz isn't that why we started doing drugs in the first place oh-so-long-ago?), that we sort of lose touch with each other. it's actually easier than people who've never had a love like ours. think, probably, to get so comfortable with the idea and the presence of this other person at your side all the time that you actually begin to lose your grip on the very thing that brought you so close in the first place. i hope this letter makes sense to you, i've been "writing" stuff down in my head that i want to tell you in a letter, and i've even started to write a couple down on paper but, be it my exhausting laziness or lack of time or whatever, i never finished writing them -- but i am putting all of it down here now and i'm not going to put my notebook away until i've let go of every little word that i want to give to you. All i ask is for you to sit down with me somewhere nice and distant from out principal distraction -- 16th and Mission -- and for you to concentrate your energy on reading and comprehending what i'm saying here. Maybe i'll take you to Washington Square park in North Beach, or up to Coit Tower -- just want to be somewhere where we can sit back and dedicate a few hours to each other,
because talking briefly on a bus on our way to steal liquor, or at the spot while we're fixing doesn't count. This is our relationship i'm talking about, and our future, as individuals and as a couple. And the life we've created that's growing inside of me. i really really hope that you'll go along with this and, like after we get well...
Damn, i didn't finish. surprize that, eh? i am such a fucking procrastinator, i hate it so god damn much. i wonder if i've always been this lazy. Who knows...
*20 june 2000*
To My Darlingest Thumper Bunny
Hey babe i'm at the spot right now, it's Tuesday (the day after you got caught at Cala), about 4:30 in the afternoon, i finally just got well -- i got up around 1, got a Cazadores @ Fillmore right away, no problem, but it was almost impossible to sell the fucker. i went everywhere, back to 16th from 24th (i even asked one of the twins, ya know, the older dudes up there who sell powder) to Tim's (he said he has too many of those but tomorrow he'll buy Tanqueray and Absolut if i can bring them, he also said he's really sorry about you getting in trouble and he hopes everything turns out OK.), back to 16th (there's no dealers, it's Vice Day, after all)... finally, i sold it to that really rad guy with the reddish hair who works at that chicken restaurant on the corner next to the Vanity Store. Anyway, i'm going to call right now to out what's up with where you are -- i mean, i'm assuming since i haven't seen you yet that you got arrested and since you might have had a warrant they took you to 850. :( i'm so sorry baby. i miss your crazy ass so damn much. i guess we both knew it was going to happen sooner or later, huh? i really hope you don't have a petty theft on your record already or else i'm not going to see you
for like 6 months! :( :( :( Well, if that's the case, your kitten and our lil itty bitty baby will be waiting for daddy to come back. :)
29 june 00
For that Thumper Bunny i [heart] so darn MUCH !!
hi Thumperingest Bunniest cute boy! I MISS YOU SO MUCH! i wish you'd page so i could talk to you. i'm really trippin cuz ya know, the stupid San Francisco Sheriff's Dept is like, in direct competition with me for your attention, ha ha. Fuck them. Don't let 'em get ya, sweetie! i need you to be there when i get off that Greyhound!
Hey i got to go through my shit in mom's storage area -- i got this giant trunk full of shit in there but the key got stolen with the rest of our stuff from the woods @ Cliff House -- good thing my mom had a key for her trunk (it's a family tradition to have one, we call them our treasure chests :) ) Anyways, i found all kinds of clothes, Pantera, Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam, etc t-shirts.. plus TONS of stuffed animals, so, i can bring those home w/me. When i finish this cigarette, i'm going to go inside and ask mom if she knows where my Eeyore is cuz i think i left him here when i moved to Nevada. Then i'll finish copying some lyrics / poetry for you. Gotta go for now. I'm sending you a mental message: Page your baby. Page her now RIGHT NOW, go to a phone (let's see how strong our bond
is!! If it can reach 2000 miles, then we REALLY do have something quite special. :) Even if it doesn't work, we still got something precious. :) Love ya, kid. More later!
Hi baby! i'm back! i just did something VERY kewl for you -- you'll hear it by the time you get this letter IF YOU EVER CALL ME!?! (You better have lost my mom's phone number or be in jail or else me and little itty bitty over here are going to be QUITE ANGRY at Daddy! And trust me, me and your baby have a VERY special bond at this point, if i'm mad, so is Itty Bitty!!) -- anyway, i hope the DJ plays it because i'm recording all these ridiculous songs by Usher and NSync and shit just to record what i did for you. Oh wait, i forgot, i like that kind of shit. Ha ha!!
Well i wanna talk about something kinda important and serious. You know i'm TOTALLY CLEAN now and it feels so fucking rad, i wish i would have gotten TOTALLY clean all those times i started like in Los Angeles, in jail ALL THOSE TIMES... but i'm clean now and that's the point.
i really hope this dude plays what i said. You're really going to love it.. if i can get it recorded!!
Ok anyway, let me finish what i was talking about. i've been having dreams and fantasizing about stealing liquor, shooting dope, and dope dealers. Like that one with the moustache.
YES THEY JUST PLAYED IT! Kewl! i was tripping they wouldn't! So if you EVER call me, i can play it for you!!
Anyway, so is that fucked up that i've been thinking about the shit i have? i had some really creepy dreams involving lots of liquor, lots of heroin, and lots of dope dealers -- Chewy, Danny, Green Eyes, Manuel, the gay one & his boyfriend, etc etc... Chewy and the guy w/a moustache, especially. Weird dreams. Oh man, crazy shit you don't even want to know about. i'll never be able to look at that guy w/the moustache again.
How am i doing with my clean-ness anyway? i want a fix. bad. 7 years dancing cheek-to-cheek with this bullshit, can't expect the romance to end the first night a get a whole night's sleep and don't wake up before dawn with a killer stomach ache. Ya know?
Anyway, sweetheart, it's quarter to one in the morning here, so i gotta get me and Lil Bitty to bed. i'll write more tomorrow
okay, darling? I LOVE YOU!!
Love Adrienne
03 july 00
Hey babe, i got $27.00, i had mom put $20 away for me cuz i know if i hang onto it, once i find out where the heroin is -- and it's GOTTA be somewhere, just don't know where!! (but i WILL find out!!), i'll end up blowing it all. i'm going to see right now if a bus is running where i need it to, i guess i'll head downtown with my kit (same dull old no-numbers needles i left San Francisco with, ha ha) and see what i can wrestle up with this seven bucks. Be back!!
Hey!
This space is taken!
Please, be a sweetie and don't mess with this stuff and don't try to sleep here.
i'm 3 months pregnant and everything my boyfriend and i own has been stolen too many times! how could someone steal the only thing a pregnant girl has to keep warm? Please do the right thing!
[ several blank pages and then diary ends ]
