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2001-08-04 / 4:03 p.m. ~Sucked in by the Internet, and a bit about the demise of The Gold Club~ Yeah, I was going to consider going to see "Hedwig and the Angry Inch", or "Made" or "The Princess and the Warrior" (which it looks like is gone already!), but no. Oh no. One thing leads to another, doesn't it? First I say, okay, today will be the day I take out the current memory modules, and try again to replace them with the ones "Computer Dude" gave me. (and he is looking better and better to me every day I see him at work, and I see him every day and I am so intrigued) I'm all ready to do it, mentally, remove all the stuff around this PC, take off the case......oh no, I have to use a screwdriver and my screwdrivers are in my toolbox (good place for them), which it so happens is underneath all my dirty laundry and recyclables in the laundry room (bad place - virtually inaccessible without much effort, and effort = bad). Um, okay, we'll skip that, just get online, oh, just to check site stats, email, that's it. Some three and a half hours later....... Sure, I wrote to my uncle in Italy. Okay, he's my only uncle, but he does happen to live in Italy. I don't want to lose touch, and I love that he is 78 and has a Hotmail account and says things like, "My road to hell is paved with good intentions". I wish I knew him better. I wish he could sit here next to me and tell me everything he remembers about his and my mom's childhoods. I wish. I'm going to scan a photo to send to him, an old one, one of us together, him, my mom, their mom, their grandmother, and my brother and sister and me. And only three of us are still alive. Makes me think I want to get a Gold Membership so I can upload photos here, so I can say, here it is, here is that photo I was writing about. I love the way my mom's arm is hanging down across my little body, and I'm holding her finger in my hand. I love this picture. I looked at that picture and I missed my mom. I really did, and I don't know what to do with that feeling when I feel it, there's no place to put it. It just erupts and I feel it, am conscious of it, even say it aloud, then I put it back, for later I guess. I need to actually read the book I have on this subject, Motherless Daughters, so I can say, Yeah, I know what she means, this author, yeah, I feel like that too. A validation kind of thing, I think, a way to feel that I'm not alone, that women who lose their mothers at an early age are affected in similar ways, live the rest of their lives in a similar fashion, experience the same sense of special, maternal, loss, of longing for nurturance and guidance. But that's beside the point. The internet is vast and alive, isn't it? And diaryland alone has sucked me in. So many diaries to read. And I've made a few little changes to my page. A couple of "mouse-over" blurbs (that's fun!), and the whole Backwash thing, and the Yahoo Naked Truths web ring thing. Ahhhh....the Backwash thing. That was so flattering. Really. No, really, it meant a lot to me that you said that, you, you know who you are. For YOU, you whom I admire, to admire me back? Wow. I'm almost through, with this entry anyway. Should I be putting a "recent" list of entries on each page? I really don't want any of my "fans" to miss out on my voluminous monologues - do people really click on the "older" link? And why is there a little dash after the Backwash images? I can't figure that one out at all..... Speaking of worrying about people who read this - this morning I was thinking about what I wrote last night, about "hunting my prey", and I thought, "Hunting my prey??? What the fuck? How ridiculous was that? I don't feel that way today at all! What will people think?", and I had to catch myself. Oh, Jesus, this is my diary, I can't care what people think of it. I'm flattered if someone likes it, but it's only my life, it's only my thoughts, it's raw and uncensored (which makes me think of Francine because she said something about not editing her entries either. She wrote a separate entry to correct herself instead of just going back and making the correction. Sounds like me. She reminds me a lot of me.) I wanted to mention the demise of The Gold Club, the supposedly greatest strip club in America. I brought it up at work yesterday, asking if people had heard they closed it, and I kept saying how "sad" it was. A. questioned me. "Sad???? SAD?!!!!", um, yeah, this city does nothing but tear down everything that's a few years old. How much longer must we consider ourselves the proverbial Phoenix rising from the fucking ashes? We are creating our own ashes. And where are all those conventioneers and tourists going to go to see naked women NOW? Okay, so the owner gets a plea bargain, only a year or so in jail for racketeering and prostitution, but allowing them to take his club? Wow, that's heavy. Can't we just make prostitution legal anyway? Come on already!!! Sure, there are other clubs, but Dennis Rodman said The Gold Club was amazing. Maybe it was just all the free blowjobs he got there, ya think? I always wanted to go. Really. Just to check it out. Just to see why the parking lot was full every single night of every single week. The train station is right there, next to it, and I used to drive by the club every time I took the train downtown to a hockey game. Used to drive by the club every day when it was on my way to work at the bookstore, 4 years of driving by on my way to work. And it wasn't always painted black, with gold neon. I think it was pink originally, but my memory may not serve me correctly on that. It was this huge place, this shrine to decadence, this major landmark, I mean MAJOR. Now, most likely, they'll raze it, pave it over, for parking for the train. Which makes perfect sense, but jeez, it just won't be the same, and for that I am sad. Yes, I'm SAD, okay? Let me be sad to see something else in this city disappear. So, now I can drive by with some new friend and say, Hey, that's where The Gold Club used to be, and the new friend will say either, Yeah, that place was SO cool!, and I will drop my jaw, or, What's The Gold Club?, and I will only shake my head. Cost of the War in Iraq
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