October 1989

I had a bad dream last night in which I told my mom's side of the family that I tried to commit suicide and they didn't care. It seems I have this totally obvious scar for nothing! When will it go away? Spent most of the day listening to music and reading.

I'm supposed to talk to dad about getting a junior class ring, but he just had a fight with Bell about money. I don't think I'll even ask him. Oh well… My father's done more important things that mean more to me than a stupid ring.

This "fag" thing has gone too far. I'm making it bigger than it is, I guess, but… I've been so self-conscious lately. Walking on the street I always feel as if people know about my sexuality. God, I hate you sometimes. I never used to hate. Why me? I don't deserve any of this shit. There's no one to trust.

Jaygene is so beautiful; she actually makes me feel like a man. Maybe I'm changing. When I told Maggie that I thought I was turning straight she said, "Good!" What is that supposed to mean, anyway? Some eighty-year-old lady left her wallet in dad's cab. I talked to her and told her not to worry, that I'll bring it to her tomorrow.

Maggie and I went to Ruth W. Tinckerman's high-rise apartment and returned her wallet. We got to see her whole apartment. It was beautiful. We totally talked and promised we'd visit and call. She cried. I wondered if those were tears of joy or sadness. I hoped they were of joy. Then Maggie and I went for pizza where three older men kept staring at me, especially the one in the black jacket. I got pissed and just waved at him. He waved back with a smile. Maggie and I had a good conversation. We talked about how thankful we are that we're not retarded, or anything. I think God is changing me because that's what I wanted. I feel more like a man. I think Nicole was right when she said I would grow out of it. But I wish I could be proud of being me. I hope by now you realize that I'm not a stupid teenager.

I'm looking at my scar while writing. I can totally see it. Lately I've been thinking about how I'm going to find my ex-mother when I go to California and shove this scar in her face. A while ago I had a dream that I did this but no one cared. They said it was my problem. Dad's sleeping on the couch like he's been for the past year.

The wind here is cold. I remember last winter. The snow.

I should appreciate these years.

I still don't know who my secret admirer is, but I did find out that she's real. It wasn't a joke. I have a feeling this is going to be embarrassing. Jaygene and I talked at school. She's beautiful when she smiles at me.

I just hope that the future will be cool. I also think a lot about the past, Iran, and how much I've changed since we moved to America. I used to look like a geek, but now I'm good looking. I'm still feeling straight. I told Rachel this and she said that she hopes I'm not just blocking it out. I'm not sure, really.

I went out with my cousins and got home at five in the morning. I had alcohol but not too much.

I hate Sundays. The three of us just fought and yelled. I spent an hour sitting in my room crying. I was supposed to go out with my cousin, Ray, but didn't. I was just angry. I'm thinking about not going to school tomorrow because I'll probably be in a bad mood. I'm thinking of cutting off my social life for a while. Maybe I just want attention, for people to miss me. Everyone must hate me because I'm so boring and quiet. Marcelo called, but I wasn't home.

Marcelo called again. He was totally nice. That made me happy.

I used the earthquake in California as an excuse to call my relatives there. Maggie encouraged me, too. I called my favorite great aunt, Anjel. My heart was beating out of my chest. She answered. I said hello in Assyrian. She recognized my voice. I prayed hard that she would be nice to me, and she was. She explained what was going on with mom all alone in California. Things I already knew. She made it sound as if it was my fault that mom was miserable. Afterward, I called Maggie. She explained that I am not responsible. I'm not sure anymore. This might sound stupid, but every time I'm in a crowded place I wish I were famous so people would look at me and come up to me. I love being noticed… by anyone. I went to a bar with my cousins and saw my geography teacher there. He was drunk. We talked for a while. He was so cool.

Anjel told me to call my uncle Fred's if I wanted to talk to my mother because she was staying there for the weekend. Mom and I talked. We argued. I cried. I told her I hate her. Then hung up. This will be an emotional trip. I'll let whatever happens happen. That simple.

I suddenly realized that I love God and that God loves me, that I am special to him. Lisa and Thomas had their little party Friday but I didn't go because when Lisa invited me she said, "You can come only if you promise to talk to people." Fuck her! The next time I see her I don't know if I should do a lot of acting or if I should just be me. Someday when I'm reading this I might be in a mansion, or a prison cell, or a farm. Who knows?

I didn't go to school since Bell is sick and stayed home. I figured I should keep him company and take care of him. (Good excuse, ha?) But in the morning dad insisted on giving me a ride to school. I tried to talk him out of it, but he dropped me off at the corner of Clark and Devon. I ended up walking back to the apartment. I stopped at Dominick's and got a can of chicken soup for Bell. Spent the day sketching and creating. My headaches are coming back.

I stayed home again. I feel guilty. I know I will be famous someday, somehow. I feel it. My head hurts again. Nothing exciting happened really. When dad came home we had a nice evening.

I got a surprise call today from mom. It was weird. It's the first time she's ever called us here in Chicago. She was mom just like before. Very nice. I like that. She talked to Bell, too. She said they'd pick me up from the airport and that she now lives in Modesto, not Santa Rosa. Modesto's so boring!

In years this'll all be history!

I feel very guilty because I didn't go to school again! I know, I know, I'm being lazy. There was a dance at school tonight where you pick up your yearbook. I went with Lisa and Rachel. They were playing House Music and there were a lot of Spanish and black kids. We didn't go inside. The yearbooks were bad. Mr. Flink came out and joked about seeing me at a bar. Then Ms. Gasner came up to me and said, "So, I hear you've been hitting the DePaul bar scene." I was so embarrassed. It was funny. Afterward, Lisa and I walked to Thomas'. On the way we saw Josh, the guy who got Lisa pregnant. He waved at us with a big smile. We waved back and kept walking. We laughed about it. Thomas was being a jerk. I hate him sometimes. Yes, I do!

Bell and I had a huge fight when we got up. Nice way to start the day. After cleaning up the broken glass and spilled Coke I took a shower. Lisa came over and we watched "Haunted Honeymoon", which was funny. Poor Guilda Radner, she died of cancer. So, we got bored and while looking for my hamster, Andy, who runs loose in the apartment, we found loose change in the sofa, and seven lighters, a spoon, M&Ms, and more change! That was fun. While we were cleaning ourselves from the dust Rachel called. She wanted us to go with her to dinner with an old friend of hers she didn't want to meet alone. The company was dorky and boring. We couldn't wait for dinner to be over. When we finally got away from these totally uninteresting people we walked in the middle of the streets in the quietness of the dark. The only thing that could be heard was our conversation and the dried leaves we were walking through. It was one of those nights in life…

Things to do: Memorize my lines from Act I, write letter to Marcelo, clean apartment, and live.

Isn't it weird how life changes? I mean, it's uncontrollable. So much is going on. Time goes by and I'm growing up, things happening all over this world. Is any of this any good? Someone answer me. I got my driving permit today. I'm in one of those Emil moods and I can't control any of this. I'm totally over my suicide thing. It's in the past.

In our neighborhood people are poor.