Everybody falls down, without even a whimper.

It's very warm in my house. Even though I'm wearing just a tank top and shorts, the heat is almost stifling. Maybe its because I'm nervous. Because I know that the inevitable is approaching , and it's coming pretty fast. I'm not even sure if its the right thing to do. Will I just end up hurting myself more? I have all the answers I'm ever going to get... maybe prolonging this is just bad for everyone. But most importantly, maybe its bad for me. For once, I am going
to think only about myself. I always put the needs of others before my own. Not tonight. Tonight I am going to think about how this has complicated my life. How being " in contact" has hurt me more than it has ever helped me. It brought about emotions I didn't even know I had. It made me feel lost, confused, hurt, and sorry.

Sorry I ever got into this mess. I'm sorry that Ellen thinks I want to steal whats hers. I'm sorry that she hates me so much. I'm sorry that I've essentially failed at making the reunion work. This reunion has failed.

God, I'm so fucking sorry.

I am seriously fed up. To my limit. I know what I need to do, but it just hurts so goddamn much.


I'll make a few rough drafts tonight, and think on it some more.

Shaken, not stirred.

My brilliant birthmother found adoptive parents for her baby today.

Which I suppose is a nice thing. Something nice wrapped up in millions of layers of sad and pathetic and worrisome and disgusting and irresponsible.

She asked if Susie( my older birthsister) would come with her to meet these people face to face.

Susie declined, apparently saying "that shit is embarrassing"

If she had asked me ( don't worry-- she wouldn't dare) that would not have been my response. I still have some sympathy left for her. Miraculously.


This new circumstance is effecting everyone differently. Aussie, as always, coins Cee "an idiot" and is sensitive to mine and Nicole and Susies feelings. She only care how it effects us. Goliath thinks its pathetic. Susie is disgusted. Nicole is furious (typical Nicole, always so rash.) I, on the other hand, am none of those emotions. I'm sad. Incomprehensibly and gut-wrenchingly sad. It doesn't really make any sense either. Logically, it doesn't effect me in the slightest.

But on a less logical basis, I feel like throwing my hands up in desperation.. and then sobbing.

My family smothers me with love. I am my grandparents and parents favorite child/grandchild. I have everything I could possibly ask for. My parents have done nothing but give me affection since the day I began to live with them. But it doesn't matter how much love I am showered with.

I will always feel this deep, profound sense of loss and rejection and longing.

Nothing ever changes. Not since I've been a little girl.

When I was young, if my biological family was mentioned, I would stomp my feet and cry and close my eyes and shut my ears. You couldn't even mention their names to me. I would lose it. My parents various attempts at therapy were never successful. I had one woman..when I was around 8. I still remember her. She mentioned adoption to me, and I cried, ran out of her office ,and climbed a small pine tree outside of the building.


Thankfully, I've gotten past that slightly embarrassing stage.

I'll never get any closure. No one will ever give me what I want. And now, my birthmother is doing the same type of thing to someone else. She's done it before..and now shes doing it once more. Yet again. It shakes me to my core. My bones and joints are heavy with despondency.


She will never learn, thus all suffering was wasted.

the burden of perspective

I got oodles of information about my host family in the mail yesterday. They look like pleasant people. My mother squealed when she saw them, and said..and I quote:

" WELL! They look positively pleasant don't they Amanda? Very upper-middle class. Molto piacevole che le guardando persone! Guardano cosi amichevole, no? Sono cosi eccitato per lei! Sono cosi eccitato!!!"


Of course the first thing out of her mouth was what their financial status appeared to be. My parents are literally the most stuck up individuals I have ever met in my life.They're nice enough.. but dear lord. Must they be so arrogant? And they're super liberal too. Which makes it even more unlikely that they'd be self-loving sons of bitches.

I leave for Zürich and Italy in 39 days. I get my visa on Wednesday (knock on wood)and Erica comes over from NY Thursday to stay for a longggg weekend. I'm hoping to get down to Popmart sometime soon to drool over Megan Mcglynn's artwork. I also sort of want to get Erica and I to Philly Friday.

Tomorrow our house is having an open house ( in a pathetic attempt to lure a buyer). I am banished to the backyard, since people apparently don't like meeting the people who live in the house while they are looking to buy.


Such are my plans for the coming days.

I want to read a good book.

I want to study Italian more.

I want to lose 20-ish lbs by September.

I want to grow my hair out, or cut it all off before I leave.

I want my mom to turn off her obnoxious jazz music in the kitchen.



It's not going to stop. Just give up.

Conditional Surrender.

I remember one time a good friend of mine told me that she read while taking a shower. I laughed, and asked her why. Assuming that perhaps I had misheard her.

" Why Becky Traldi, why do you read in the shower?"

She answered me. Apparently, for her, showering is a time when her mind may freely wander. She didn't like where her mind went, and therefore read to keep herself from "over thinking" things that may complicate her life. Now I know for a fact that Miss. Traldi is indeed extremely intelligent. Therefore, one day, I brought my copy of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas into my daily(or twice daily, if I'm feeling especially dirty and wasteful) shower. Not only did I find nothing extraordinary about this experience , but.. my book got wet, the pages got wrinkly, and I became annoyed .

I do, however, give Becky credit for the theory. When you allow yourself to reflect in solitude, one of two things is bound to happen. You will;

A) Reflect on how wonderful your life is! You'll come to appreciate your family (and forgive their faults and misgivings) and you'll come to love your friends even more. You'll recognize that the past is the past, and isn't the future just dandy! You'll forgive Fido for pissing on your carpet because "Hey! its green..and looks like grass...anyone could make that mistake!"

or

B) You will come to look at yourself and your life on a less shallow note. You will contemplate the reasons for your peculiarities. You delve into the idiosyncrasies of your life in a vain attempt to figure yourself out, and figure out others around you, in order to prevent being disappointed, or hurt. And boy-oh- boy do you have a bad dog!


Because I am nowhere near perfect, and because my dog has not piddled the floor in many years, I opt for plan B. Not because I like it necessarily , but because I often worry and think myself into oblivion. It's because I'm used to it. It's because my parents are shrinks and have taught me that self examination is the first step to making things better.

And you know what really gets me going?

You know what problem I have in my life?


The fact that no body can agree on who they are in my life. Everyone wants the same thing. But I can't seem to give it to anyone.

Now, that may SEEM like an inconsequential trouble. But let my assure you, it weighs heavily on my mind more than one might imagine.


Dave argues nature over nurture. Blood over water. Giving life over living life.
" I feel the same way about you as I do Ellen" he says. " I wonder if you'll ever be capable of having such feelings for me"

Cindy , when referencing Kathleen , refers to her as "your mom" therefore confusing me into another demention every time she mentions " your mom's drug habit"

Kathleen calls me baby.

Ellen calls me sister (when she isn't wishing she could call me dead)

My life is a constant game of tug and war. One side is pulling furiously at my feet, as they want what they have always had from me.

The other is pulling just as hard on the other side, as they fight for something they haven't deserved, but think they are owed.


Loyalties get mixed up. My brain becomes confused. Everyone pulls on my very prominent heartstrings. I can't bear to disappoint anyone!

Only I end up disappointing myself. And .. inadvertently..everyone.


Showering can be dangerous.

Ohhhhh baby do you know what thats worth? Ohh heaven is place on earth.

Did you know that song is all about Valium?

It's true.



SKIPPER! How I love that dog. It's a little sick, isn't it?



Olympus OM2n, lens: Zuiko, film: regular color negative

All of us are done for.

Well, it's finally happening. My parents are officially and legally divorced. Finally , right?

Now, they will go their separate ways:
My dad is moving to Manhattan, with his unusually young girlfriend and her rabbit named Bill.
My mom will be living in some old house in Bethlehem, one that is far too spacious her lonely self.
I'll be living in Gela, far far away from anything and anyone I have any connection to.
I'll live my life through words and letters composed to those overseas in America.

Most posts have become boring accounts of the days happenings. Whyohwhyohwhyohwhy can't I string together any coherent, meaningful sentences? Everything I write and say and think is stale and tarnished and old and..bland.

My dog is making cute grunting sounds behind me, on the newly polished wooden floors.He is dissatisfied with his surroundings. As am I.

I want something more, you know? I want to be something, and do something different and thrilling. I don't want to be famous, or rich. Goodness no. I just want to be important to somebody. I want to be wanted and appreciated.

I want someone to need me.

Not in a sexual way. Not at all!

I think my motherly instincts are forever in over-drive. I love to dote upon my little dog, and my little cat, and every small being who enters my life.

I ignore it. I pretend it doesn't exist.

Oh, all that I know,
There's nothing here to run from,
Everybody here's got somebody to lean on.

leaving!

I leave for Italy and 45 days.

I'm excited, but a little fearful.

Change always makes me a little nervous, but what am I leaving behind?

A few good people?

Ha.

It hardly seems worth it to stay.


Why do people I dislike trust me with their secrets?


È buffo, perché non fido di facilmente

Loving dogs , Evil Sisters, & City Escapades.

"Alot of things have happend this summer.ive lost two of my bestfriends because i took them for granted.im not as close to my family as i would like to be.my own blood sister hates me.my mom is addicted to everything but me.my dad and me argue everyday,and he doesnt understand.i cry for help but no one ever comes to my rescue. all my mistake burn inside me everyday of my life.i wish i could start over with everything. i wish i was smarter then i was back then.i am so weak and im supposed to be strong.im broken. my familys broken,and familys arent supposed to be like this. i need someone to hold my hand and pick me up when i fall.i cant sleep at night.someone needs to build a damn time machine.i took it all for granted everting i ever had"

Such are the words of my evil little sister on her myspace. I refer to her as "Evil Ellen". Mostly because that's exactly what she is. So yes, it's true. I do hate her. But not because she is my sister, and sisters are supposed to argue. It's because I truly believe that she doesn't give one shit about me. Her public post of agony pleases me only a small amount. The grammatic incorrectness makes me shudder, but I couldn't have expected any more from her.

In fact, that's what I've learned about this little beast of a child. Don't expect anything , which prevents me from becoming upset when I don't receive anything. Which is always what happens. She's jealous of me, and for what? That her father ( my biological one) likes me too? And why shouldn't he? I don't want what she has with him. I have my own father . I don't need hers. And it's true, her mom is addicted to everything but us. Not just her, as she selfishly believes. But maybe if she just cut connections with her, count her loses, and lick her wounds a little bit, she'd be less emotionally wrecked every time our mother disappoints her. As she always does.

I have very little sympathy, because most of the craziness in her life is because of her inability to have any sort of long-term thinking. Any sort of thinking at all, come to think of it. She dug her own grave on this one, and I won't help her out until I'm good and ready.

They're coming to my party, by the way. Which is...good.


Regardless of the insanity that they often bring to my life, I am so happy. Deliriously happy, in fact.


My room is clean. My dog is loving. My parents aren't fed up with me ! Italy is fast approaching. I get to do so much shopping before I leave! I just showered, and I am clean clean clean. I have a beautiful new silk night robe. I am having a party which includes many many good people. Over 52 family members (as of last night's tally..courtesy of my grandma) and many friends. I'm going into the city many times before I leave. Everything is harmonious and perfect in every way, even though they shouldn't be.


Somebody pinch me!

" when you love him so that he's been loved before.."

My mother, in all her infinite wisdom, has decided it is a good idea that she become pregnant, yet again.

I'm not supposed to know this. But, as always, someone tells me everything.

Mandy, her oldest, is 24? I'm 17..Ellen's 14. William and Sharon have got to be 9 and 10 by now. Christian is going to turn 16 soon.

How do I feel about this?

That poor kid. That poor little baby. Destined to be like us.

There will be yet another child on this earth who can't comprehend why his mother didn't want him.
Why she chose booze and crack over her children.
Yet another one who will know her only for a few days.

My sister, Ellen, is not handling this very well.

" GOD I FUCKING HATE HER!" She screams " I WISH SHE WOULD DROP DEAD. I WISH SHE WOULD DIE!"

We told her never to wish death on someone, because if that person DOES die(by some extraordinary twist of irony) , you'll feel like shit. Shes inconsolable. She feels abandoned, neglected, and fiercely angry that another one of us will come into existence. Just a notch on our mothers maternity belt. Just someone else she can love, and then leave.


She's an idiot. I know this about her, and yet I can't help getting emotionally involved with all of this. I just don't understand how my mother can bear it. How can she do this, and still go on with her everyday life? I surely couldn't. God. I can't even imagine how much that would hurt me.

This whole situation saddens me more than I'll ever be able to express to anyone.

I want to meet this kid, just as I want to meet all of the other ones born after me who I never got a chance to see. I want to tell him that it's okay. Someone else is here for you. Someone else knows what its like. Don't worry, we aren't going to leave you too.


I'll never have the chance to say any of that, though.

He ( or I suppose she!) will be better off without her. Just as well all are.

Just as I know I am.

Sometimes "better off" is so sad, isn't it?

Goodnight my angel, now it's time to dream, and dream how wonderful your life will be.

Why am I writing this?

It's 8:14 AM.

I shouldn't be awake, considering I woke up at 5:00 AM yesterday, and went to bed late last night.

I hate being in bed.

Everything seems worse when your alone in a dark room, with all the time in the world to divulge in a little self-pity.

I hate being able to just...lay there and think.

Usually it's nice to just be able to relax. But now every time I have a quiet moment to myself, the guilt and worry and devastation start nibbling at my brain stem. I start to cry. I start to worry. So many things are flooding through my mind. I want to go abroad next year! I want my parents to not hate the very ground I walk on! I don't especially want to go back to LVPA next year! I don't want to have to confront Dave and Ellen about why they wasted $10,000 on a fuck up like me.

I am so nervous and frenzied.

My blood pressure is through the roof.

There's a knot in my stomach that won't come undone.

I don't want to eat,sleep, or do anything.

I just want to know if I'm going to have the make the most heart wrenching decision of my life.

Skipper and Mozart just came over to me. Skipper made a cute little "pet me!" noise. I love how animals have that...sense when someone is upset.


please, please come. please.

I'm so worried, and anxious. I really feel like I'm about to cry.

Nothing yet.

The cheese has slipped off the cracker.

On September 5th, 2007. I had better be on a fucking plane to Zürich (and then to Rome)

I want to go to Italy.

If anything messes that up, I will completely lose my mind.

lose.my.mind.

Sometimes I am surprised with the vast amount of serious negative feelings I can contain within myself. I can get angry, sure. Who can't . But rarely do I feel these feelings of revenge and vindication and pure evil.


The space between my eyes hurt, and my stomach hurts, and my left foot hurts, and my body is so tired.

But mentally, I'm so wide awake.

This... feeling. It's like some toxic substance, sneaking its way into my brain, and eating away at all of my calm and introspect . I was so angry and exasperated and tired and fed up tonight, I lay in bed just fuming. I tried taking deeeepp breaths.

In through your nose, out through your mouth.

Feel the anger and worry and sickness escape through your nostrils.

In, and out.

Bullll fuckinnggg shit. It didn't work, and I got sort of lightheaded. I'm not sure if that's just my everyday feelings of woozy-ness kicking in, or I lost some serious oxygen trying to calm down a bit.

I couldn't sleep.

It is exactly 12:00 AM, and I am not even the slightest bit tired. I feel so sick, and I hate myself for it.


God I fucking hate the things I do.

Sick with worry because I'm sick

As September fast approaches, I am already getting homesick.

Why am I sick all the time?

I can only imagine.


I hate the descent.

He takes a dying man in his arms
and tells him;
"How deeply flows the river
that takes the old man and his friends this evening.
It is a river of dusk, and lamentation.
"Flow" Walt says "Dear river, I will carry this young man to your banks.
I'll put him myself in one of your strong, flat boats.
And we'll sail together all the way through evening"


I want to change my life, but I don't know how to do it .

I'm not even sure what the real problem is... though I'm fairly confident there is one.

Nothings really going wrong. So it surprises me that I'm feeling this way.

I'll be spending the fourth of July at my grandparents house in NYC with all of my cousins and uncles and aunts and what not. I always enjoy the time we have together. They are a large group of insane individuals. I remember one time, we had Leah Augstroze come over to my grandparents house(we had a trip to Manhattan planned) and she met all of them. She was quiet ( though she often is) and they wondered why. Did she not like them? Did they do something? I told them she was shy sometimes. They laughed, and one of my aunts said to me:

"We're not really a good family for kids who are shy , are we?"

Nope, we aren't. We're New-Yawkahs. Dear god, we really are aren't we? My mothers Brooklyn accent would have Fran Drescher running for the hills.


I'm tired of having these complications in my life.
It's not that I'm confused about where I belong. That much is obvious. I never feel so wanted and accepted and loved as I do when I am with my family. Especially my extended family.


Why then, do I feel as if something is missing? Why do I feel so goddamn inferior to everyone else? Why is my brain addled with confusion and unrest?

I find myself becoming severely jealous of those who are in more... traditional familial settings.

Was that wordy enough for you?

Yeah that's right. I'm jealous of people whose lives are less emotionally complicated in this aspect. People who have ONE family. Instead of the two I seem to be plagued with.

Is it wrong to feel this way? Is it immature?

Am I making as mistake by writing this for all to see?

I become so envious when I see people with their mothers. Not so much fathers, for some reason. I suppose it's because I'm a female, and it seems so important to me to have my mother around sometimes. She isn't around. Nor logically would I want her to be. Logically, I know that she is incapable of giving me what I want. She is not emotionally stable enough to provide me with the closure and explanations that I need. I know all the answers, I just need to hear it from her. I know she'd try, and I know she'd want to do the right thing for me.


The road to hell is paved with good intentions.