Rachyl's Journal (private, closed, no replies)

The entirety of the journal is written in flowing but neat penmanship.

Saturday, May 28th, 2005


I got off the bus with little to-do, and collected my bag. Rented one of those storage bins, stowed my duffle, and hopped on my bike.

Rode to a generically boring convenience store, grabbed one of those apartment guides, a hotdog with cheese, and a Fruitopia (Wow, Wawa hasn't carried these for almost a year. Such a treat.) Asked the closest, intelligible person for directions (who happened to be a FedEx driver also at the store) and biked my way over.

The first and second complexes were full. The third had burned down after the book was printed. The fourth looked decent - the apartments were clean, but most were one bed-one bath, but for the size of the apartments, as well as the proximity to the industrial sector, the price was too high.

I ended up at a similar building a couple blocks over. It was a bit more run down, and seemed to be poorly maintained, but the price was right. Efficiency, one bath, no kitchen, AC, electricity included in rent, for four hundred a month. I could swing that, as I checked my checkbook. Luckily the security deposit was only one month's rent. According to the "leasing agent", the apartment I was to be given had a new toilet and tub, as well as a couch that had been left behind by the prior renter. (It is ugly and smells like cat piss though.)

I rode back to the bus station, picked up my duffle, and returned... home. I can't really think of it as home, though, as there's nothing here that's mine, per se, and it just doesn't... feel right. But the bed is comfortable, and I slept well the first night, using my duffle for a pillow.

Sunday, May 29th, 2005

At least I'm getting a good workout carrying the bike up and down the stairs.

I rode to Walmart (I seriously hate shopping there, but there were no Targets within a decent distance, according to the landlady). Ordered a decent-sized mini-fridge for only ninety bucks, some bedlinens, a TV/DVD/VCR combo, a couple movies (Oooh! Miss Congeniality 2 has been released on DVD! I don't think any one other item made its way into the cart faster), some cleaning products, a couple candles, and tampons. I set up the TV and fridge for delivery and carried the rest in my duffle. Stopped at an office supply store (Scissors Depot. Knock off much?) and picked up a calendar, some legal pads, a portfolio case, pens, and a cheap calculator.

Rode home - somewhat unstable - and started to make the place a little more homey. Realized the place had only the one shelf, so I ran down to the corner market and "borrowed" a few of their milk crates. As I opened the door, the bathroom door fell off, splitting in half... So I built myself a makeshift coffee table. Set up some of the other crates at the end of the bed and in the bathroom.

I realized it was getting late - almost two pm - so went back to the corner store for some juice, soup, and a sandwich. The grody old man behind the counter kept making eyes at me... If I were the violent type, I'd almost want to stab him with a spork.

On the way back home I saw a tiny, broken down old wooden desk in an alley... So I picked it up and carried it back. Probably used to be a really nice desk... Light maple, decent construction... Just missing a leg. Set it against the wall opposite the window, but realized I'll need to pick up some bricks or something to stand it up straight.

Monday, May 30th, 2005.

I spent more of the day getting ready for the fashion show than I'd planned. Luckily, the dry cleaners across the street was actually open on Memorial Day (strange how naturalizing immigrants don't celebrate our holidays.) and had the dress taken care of.

I'd bought myself the low cut, crushed velvet black dress for wedding receptions... Had a few friends - well, by the end of college, more acquaintences - get married right out of college. I'd saved a black silk choker with a dangling silver teardrop pendant from my jewelry box.

I took a nice bath - unfortunately not bubble, but I did light the Lemon Meringue scented candle I'd gotten - and did my hair. Threw on a t-shirt and shorts to run back across the street to get the dress, then came back and finished getting ready.

Long story short, the Fashion Show was amazing.

Short story long, I got there, waited in line, got a few funny looks, and was about to enter when an official dragged me aside, and told me that, not only was the Show by invitation only, but that the Hall was full.

So, almost moping, I gave him my contact info for the next show (fully not expecting a call) and roamed down the alley next to the Hall to get a cab home.
I heard a girl throwing up, so I helped her, then an extremely gay man yelled at me for doing so, and told me to get my ass back inside for the next phase of the show... So I did.

I don't know what came over me. Maybe it was part of my brain saying, "You got screwed out of going in the front, might as well go in the back."
Of course, I hadn't expected what would happen next - I was directed to a changing room, had my makeup redone, my hair messed with (though it did look awesome afterwards) and was stuffed into a beautiful blue corset and skirt. I was kind of wobbly on the really high platform shoes I was given, but I think I walked pretty well. Ended up running to what I guess was two of the male models making in a janitor's closet, but finally found my way to the runway. I realized I was very unstable, and tried to keep my balance by not bending my ankles at all.

Then someone tripped me. Reached his hand out... and tripped me, right before the end of the runway. I flipped my head up, saw a camera, winked, and blew a kiss, then stood up. I might have been "vamping" as my old friend Lily used to call it - that is, showing off skin and being very omnidirectionally flirtatious.

I kicked off those horrid shoes and nearly ran into a very beautiful woman - strawberry blonde hair, amazingly, impeccably dressed - who seemed to be named Meegan, as her attention was grabbed after congratulating me on my recovery.

I got changed back into my dress, and nearly ran out, but not before hearing a conversation between Meegan and a photographer, regarding my "fall."

I almost floated home - if it were possible, I would have, because the cabride was -expensive-. Price gouger.

Tuesday, May 31st, 2005

I slept like a log. No dreams that I could remember. I spent a good portion of the morning figuring out my finances. Realized I'd shipped all of my investment information to my lawyer (stupid, stupid) but still had enough in my checking account for three month's rent, and living expenses... As long as I didn't take too many cab rides.

Found some bricks at a nearby construction site, and took more milk crates for more shelves and storage. Set some up in the bathroom for hygeine and such, and put clean clothes at the end of the bed. Set up the desk with the bricks, but it still didn't fit.

I found myself outside in the alleys adjacent to my block, scouring piles of trash and dumpsters for useful bits and bobs... Of course, all I found was an old supermarket shopping basket, so I grabbed that and went back. The desk stood quite sturdily, but I decided to not put too much weight on it.

Was on my way out for lunch when I ran into the delivery guy with my fridge and TV. Put the TV on the "table" and the fridge at the opposite end. I could feel the guy staring at my ass as I put things where I wanted them - just so - and was actually disgusted briefly... I hate being leered at by men. How is it a woman's face can't form that expression?

I gave him a twenty (ouch), figured he'd gotten enough of a look of my body and basically kicked him out. Watched Miss Congeniality 2 twice before falling asleep.

Wednesday, June First, 2005

I biked up and down almost the entirety of The Strip (as I'd found out the main drag through the city was called), writing down office, firm, and building names. In the afternoon, I stopped at the library and looked most of them up. Ten cents a page, printed. Good grief. What with all the donations they must receive from either patrons, businesses, or the city, I can't imagine why they'd need to charge so much. Paper was less than a penny a sheet, and the cost of toner even less... Profiteering sucks, but then, how can I complain? I used to be in real estate. A single additional sink and toilet could raise the price of a house ten grand, depending on location and neighborhood.

Stopped back at Walmart for some cases of Ramen noodles. They may make me fart, but at least it fills the void.

Thursday, June 2th, 2005.

Yes, I know I wrote June Two-th. It's just funny!

Not a whole lot to report. Stopped at a FedEx Kinko's to fax my resume to a few different realty offices (seriously, three bucks a page to fax? How does the machine work, little elves inside who type out the binary transmission then run it through the phone line?)

Friday, June 3rd, 2005.

I shouldn't be so sarcastic, even to my journal. It gets me in trouble.

Found a cheaper place to fax - that same Scissors Depot I'd stopped at a couple days ago. A dollar for the first page, and twenty cents for each additional, for local faxes. Much more reasonable.

The next few weeks of entries are probably going to be either light or non-existent, because after all, the day-to-day goings on here are pretty boring... After all, I don't have any money to splurge with, and picking up cheap DVDs at Walmart is enough entertainment. Maybe I should get a book or two...

Tuesday, June 7th, 2005

The weekend was quiet... I did some exploring. I started from the apartment and worked in ever-expanding blocks... Ended up going about nine blocks in each direction before I got too tired to continue... Seriously need to get back into shape. Still haven't recovered from my appendectomy...

I didn't find any Starbucks (then again, I don't exactly reside in an upscale preppy neighborhood now, do I?) but I did find a comics shop, an Internet Cafe, another FedEx Kinko's, and a regional post office. I wrote down street names and blocknumbers, then headed home for lunch.

As I was eating, I got a phone call from Kawarsky Realty, and spoke with a very nice lady named Cora. She had a rather exotic sounding accent that I couldn't place. She arranged an interview with me at an Italian restaurant closer to the center of the city. I'd be meeting a man named Ed Mischener, at 1:30 on Wednesday the 8th.

I think I danced in my apartment for a whole fifteen minutes after that call, lunch forgotten.

I made sure to run my green business suit over to the dry cleaners and gathered my copies of resume, my portfolio, and other needed stuff.

Wednesday, June 8th, 2005

I took the bus into Center City and found the restaurant. I wasn't nervous. I was a bit early; I got there at 1:10, so I put my name in and told the host that I was waiting for an Ed Mischener, and that we had a reservation for 1:30. He sat me at the table at 1:25, when Ed arrived. I stood, shook hands with him - he was a nice enough looking gentleman with greying hair, a soft mustache, encroaching jowels, but a firm grip and a strong if quiet voice.

We had an amiable meal during which he asked me about my schooling and internship. I think he was curious to find out why I'd leave a national-chain realtors' office and move away, especially with as "varied" a sales record as I had, but he held those questions.

He excused himself to use the mens room... And never came back. I even asked a passing server if he'd seen a man come out of the bathroom - thinking he might have had a heart attack or something - but he said, "No ma'am, I'm sorry, the gentleman has left the restaurant."

I was shell-shocked.

I still can't think much about it without shaking in anger.

I paid the bill, then called the woman at Kawarsky Realty back.

"Cora," I said, "I interviewed with Ed a little while ago. Rather, we had a quiet, questioning lunch, then he went to the rest room and never came back. I was told by our server that he left the restaurant and stuck me with the bill. I'm understandably aggravated about the fact that, not only was the restaurant his choice, as interviewer, but that he left me with the responsibility of covering it. He should have been professional enough to tell me I was not the one he chose for the job. He should have also told me that he was leaving. I find it reprehensible and discourteous, and will not be dealing with your company." I gave her my address in the off chance I'd be reimbursed for the meal... I think she was almost as shocked as I was that the man would just vanish.

Friday, June 10th, 2005.

I received a rather professional looking letter - by FedEx courier, no less - on Kawarsky letterhead, stating Mr. Kawarsky was extremely apologetic about the lack of professionalism his representative displayed, and wouldn't I like a second opportunity. I checked the envelope three times for a check, but no luck.

Tuesday, June 14th, 2005. Flag Day.

I realized I don't have any flags, so I went back to (gag me with a spoon) Walmart to get a couple on long dowels, and got a matching t-shirt. Three bucks... Can't beat it. I was climbing back onto my bike when my phone rang.

A man named Carl from a Rox and Foche office in the city scheduled an interview. I asked if it would be at the office; he said no, it would be at a restaurant. Do I like Italian? Yes, but not such-and-such restaurant in Center City. 3pm on the 15th? Sure. You can imagine my reluctance to go on another lunch interview...

Wednesday, June 15th, 2005.

But I went anyway. Dressed in my silk, steel blue suit, I sat in the bar of the restaurant for almost an hour - from 3pm to 4pm - waiting for this Carl. I must have pestered the host every five seconds... "Is he here? Did he call? Is my name down?" So when the manager of the restaurant wandered by, I asked if it was customary for people to schedule lunch interviews in Nachton, and then stand up the interviewees. He said no, it wasn't...

Which of course didn't make me feel any better.

I ordered a burger and fries to take home for dinner.

Stopped at the bodega at the corner and got a sixpack of Coors Light. Ugh, I hate that stuff, it tastes like liquid sawdust. But I figured, no sense in allowing myself to suffer all day long.

Thursday, June 16th, 2005.

I called the Rox and Foche office. Asked for the name of Carl's supervisor. "Ma'am," I was told, "Carl is the owner of the office." Apparently I'd need to speak with someone in a franchising office in Richmond in order to get someone above him. "Well," I said, "He scheduled an interview with me for yesterday, then never showed up."

The lady apologized profusely and kept asking me if there was anything she could do... My brain thought, and nearly pushed to my mouth, "Well if you can give me a job that wouldn't be working with that inconsiderate clod," but I just told her "no thank you" and let her go.

Friday, June 17th, 2005.

I decided to take a ride along the Strip again, and rode two blocks to either side. I found a small park near the far end - close to where The Strip broken into the Industrial quarter - and watched as a bunch of folks walked their dogs.

My phone rang just after lunch. I am starting to dread unsolicited phone calls.

Ronda from Umbricht Architects... Interview at noon on Monday at Cafe Americana... Scheduled with Olaf. Asked her if, outside of going and waiting for him, there was any way to verify he'd actually be there... She asked why, I told her that my last two interviews had ended rather rudely. She said oh no no no no! and tried to reassure me, saying Olaf would be the epitome of professionalism.

Right.

Saturday, June 18th, 2005.

Spent some time at the internet cafe, checking email and posting my resume on Monster. I should have done this when I found them, but hadn't thought of it... Then again, I don't have regular internet access...

If I wasn't so worried about finances, I'd come here on a more regular basis... The clientele seems clean, and there seems to be some good looking folk in this town.

Monday, June 20th, 2005.

I dressed in the green business suit again. Glad I had the foresight to bring two... Okay, maybe it wasn't so much foresight as just grabbing a random handful of clothes from my closet.

I even called Ronda at 9am to verify my appointment at noon, at Cafe Americana on 13th Ave... She verified, said yes yes yes, he'll be there...

So you can imagine my surprise when noon came and went, with no Olaf.

I called at one. "Hi, Ronda. Olaf's not here." "He's not?" "No." "Let me try his cell, hold please."

Holding sucks. I can't put into easily expellable, harsh words how much it sucks when it's the third interview you've been stood up on. So when Ronda came back on the line, I nearly exploded, but simply said after she told me Olaf wasn't reachable, "I'm extremely disappointed that there was not better communication. Have a nice day."

I'm beginning to wonder if I'm cursed.

Monday, June 27th.

The past week has been rather empty. Empty of hope, decent food, movies, enjoyment... I've found myself a few trashy romances at the GoodWill store a few blocks over, so have been sequestered in my apartment reading those. At least I know my "girl parts" still work, even if the job-seeking part doesn't seem to be.

Wednesday, June 29th.

To date, I've sent out forty three faxes to just about every architectural firm, realtors office, and land broker in the city (or at least what I could find on the Nachton CoC site, as well as the Nachton BBB listings), and even a couple temp agencies.

So you can imagine my surprise when I got a call from Kelly at Acme Temps who said she'd at least put my name into the secretarial pool, because she didn't have any real estate internships - or really anything that matched even some of my qualifications outside of secretarial duties - open.

I told her I was very grateful and that the last three interviews I'd been on had fallen through for one reason or another (and I wasn't going to give her details unless I met her face to face).

So she said, "That's great, how about Friday... I have an opening at 4pm, and there's a great little Indian Restaurant on the Strip..." I got the information from her and tried to steel myself against another bad afternoon.

Friday, July One-th, 2005.

Wow, it's almost the fourth of July. Hard to believe I left home a full month ago... almost five weeks now.
I stopped at the bodega for a small loaf of bread and some lunchmeat and had a small sandwich before I showered and got ready.

I hopped the bus to the restaurant... Rather a couple blocks away, and walked over, purse and portfolio in hand...

For some reason (which will probably be hinted at shortly) the entire day is burned into my memory...

I gave my name to the host. Apparently, there wasn't a reservation.

I said to her, "So are you trying to tell me, by not saying anything, that no, there's no one waiting here for me, there's no reservation with my name attached, and that you're wasting my time by simply not saying 'No ma'am, there's no listing with your name?'" when a rather attractive redhead bumped into me... Introduced herself... I found out that no, I actually didn't have a reservation and that I'd been premeditatedly stood up... and ended up joining the redhead - Veronica - and her companion - Meegan Masters of Gothic-ah Fashions - for lunch. I explained to Veronica that I'd been stood up and otherwise jilted, as far as interviews are concerned and made a crack about working street corners... She made me blush saying I'd fit right into some of the strip clubs she's been to.

The meal - prawn curry with coconut - was absolutely wonderful, though completely outweighed by the magnificence of the company. (Their ice tea was pretty good, too, though I think I drew a few disgusted stares when I dumped about four tablespoons of sugar into it.)

Meegan at one point when Veronica went to powder her nose rattled off a good portion of my history... Name, age, etc, and scared me... Then she grabbed my wrist... I know she was trying to be nice but it really freaked me out for a moment. Then she offered me a job!

Veronica made a comment about me being hot, still in my steel blue suit, out on the patio... I was, but I didn't mind too much - three different sources of heat, each more wonderful than the last... I wiped my brow but let a few drips alone, that travelled down my chest (as did certain green and brown eyes...) Veronica kept leaning back and forth showing off her breasts, and even made a comment after the waiter brushed her chest (rather obviously) about the two of us wanting to touch her tits... Of course, I wasn't totally innocent, either, and unbuttoned a few buttons as I dropped my napkin.

Meegan invited Veronica and I back to her place for wine and chocolate... Although, from the looks we'd been giving each other throughout the meal, I think wine and chocolate was furthest from our minds... Meegan has a cute little mutt named Dill.

We took a cab. Meegan on the left, Veronica in the middle, me on the right. I could feel Veronica's entire body heating up, the further along the ride got, and the more 'friendly' Meegan's hand became.

Into the building we went, though Meegan was accosted by her downstairs neighbor, one Mrs. Carmichael. I made a comment about Dill looking hungrily at my portfolio - even though he was acting quite the gentleman - and we got upstairs in short order.

Meegan popped a bottle of wine in the kitchen for us, and we toasted, but then after I made a crack about someone giving change for five cent tours, and two cent opinions, and pennies for thoughts... Veronica snarfed wine all over her shirt. Which she then attempted to wipe off with a cold, wet towel... Rather ineffectually, actually.

So, I decided to help her... I raised her chin and licked a drip from her chest. She pulled off her shirt, cupped her breasts and said, "You missed a spot."... Meegan came up to us... Veronica helped me with my jacket and we found ourselves in Meegan's bedroom...

Meegan smelled wonderful - I do so love vanilla - and after kissing and partially undressing her, I turned to Veronica. After I undressed her, she pushed me on the bed when Meegan went to get her camcorder. Veronica showed me her clit-ring, and (sarcastic me) asked her if it hurt, then offered to kiss it and make it better... which I did. Meegan came back, I think she set up the camcorder (actually I'll find out where when Veronica gives me a copy) and she joined us on the bed.

I found out first-hand (first-face, -lick, -cum?) that Veronica "squirts" when she orgasms... That was rather interesting... I think I might have enjoyed it. I ended up giving her two orgasms while she straddled my face, then gave one to Meegan while Veronica played camerawoman for us. Meegan gave one to me (geez I sound like I'm keeping score here, but honestly, remembering this is so intense I'm lost in the memories of it... Putting it on paper seems to give it less meaning than the absolutely wonderful evening it was).

We moved to the bathtub afterwards, and were playing in the water when Meegan left to get a vibrator... Her phone rang. She sounded mad... then left. I could tell she was extremely frustrated, and immensely disappointed.

Veronica and I cleaned up, then just before we left I got an idea... Suggested we stay to eat and watch a movie, then make our own movie for Meegan, help her with a little release for what she missed. So I made salmon stir-fry, and we watched Mallrats... And together she and I ran the batteries down on the camcorder a second time.

We left Meegan a note, the DVD we made, the leftovers, and a vibrator with fresh batteries. "Thanks for the amazing night. We hope next time can be a bit less interrupted. We left salmon stir-fry in the fridge for you and cleaned everything else up. We made the DVD for you. You might need the vibrator."

I gave Veronica a couple kisses and hugs as we parted in front of Meegan's building, then took the bus home, in strange but completely comfortable clothes.

I need to take a second bath... but I wanted to get this on paper, and I want to put their cell numbers in my own cell before I forget... But now remembering this I need to go treat myself to some (more) release.

Saturday, July 2th, 2005

I continuously remind myself how much of a dork I am. July tooth. I sit here giggling - which of course you can't see - but I think I needed to giggle, same as I needed what happened last night.

It had been over a year since my last sexual encounter... Since I was nearly... almost... Since I was assaulted and nearly raped outside the coffee shop in Millville. There. I said it. I was nearly raped. I think my therapist might consider me muchly recovered... Well until I tell her that I nearly freaked out on poor Meegan when she grabbed my wrist and rattled off my vitals. Someday I'll tell her about that. Maybe.

That might take a bit more pushing, more meditation, and a lot more awareness of how people touch me.

... And again my mind wanders - or maybe another part of me - to last night. I vaguely remember telling Veronica of my first female lover, and how she could orgasm only once... And she joked with Meegan about getting her clit pierced while she got her own nipples pierced - as Meegan's are... And then said I should too. But I'm allergic to silver and gold... Have been since I was young... She said they use surgical stainless steel. I'm almost tempted, after hearing, seeing, feeling, tasting their reactions to using the piercings as points of pleasure. Maybe I'll have my belly button done first, to see how I react. After all, it's been... just about twenty two years. (Or so Mom said.)

I realized today after my morning meditation and bike ride that I've never seen any of my building co-residents. Either there're more empty apartments than the other three on my floor, or they're just night owls.

And my mind wanders back to Friday. I could have continued with those two all night long... And we started at 5pm... It just felt so good. So good to have a warm body next to me, so good to feel another person's flesh, to feel loved for me, and not as... a warm place to stick a hard-on or two.

I suppose that's one thing I'll never understand about my whole ordeal. That is, understand the difference between men like that, and men like my second boyfriend, Leo Christoph (strange combo, I know, but his dad was Italian and his mom Hungarian or something. I don't remember, it's been some six and a half years), who nearly fawn over you as a person and yet still find you so attractive the mere touch of clasped hands walking the mall induces instant arousal. He and I never did have sex... I bet he'd have made a wonderful partner though.

Come to think of it, if I still lived in NJ, I might call him up just for booty's sake... But then I realize, if I still did (live in NJ) last night would never have happened and I wouldn't feel as... reassured in myself as I do. Though... I don't know if I'm ready to take a male lover yet. Small steps.

I wonder if I can ever thank Meegan and Veronica for that seemingly very simple gift.

So anyway, this morning I got up early to go to the parade... I had fun, even if it was kind of boring, and no one I knew (As if that's a real measure of anything, I only just met two whole people in this city of some four million) stopped by to bother me.

I came back into the "house" and slept basically naked for a while, with my icepack stuck between my bra and my chest. Sure it was cold, but it felt good... The A/C died last night. I put a note on the landlady's door after I woke up. My chest was frozen. I need to drop off my suits at the dry cleaners again, and prepare for both the party on Monday Night, and my first day of work Tuesday.

What party, you ask? I found an invitation to a Party at some City Garden tacked to my door when I came back from the parade.