... And There She Was

Chapter 28

March 30, 1988

Hey. A lot has happened since we last spoke. Sorry about that, by the way. Having been so long since last time, and how I was with you. I was angry and frustrated at Mike, but I'm sure you didn't appreciate me coming to you and angrily scrawling all over your nice pages. Most of it wasn't true anyways. So let's just keep those thoughts between you and me, okay? Good.

He did it. He finally did it. I can't believe it. I mean, I can. But it's still surreal. All these years, all this time thinking life was going to be a certain way, and now it's been totally turned upside down on its head. I don't even know where to begin. I've always been someone to sort of blend into the background, and now it feels like no matter where I go, I've got dozens of eyes trained on me, waiting for me to clip my toe on the pavement and come crashing down to the ground. It's bizarre. We went out to dinner the other night in....geez, where were we? Kentucky? Somewhere. Anyways, we went out to dinner. Like, OUT to dinner. Not curling up in bed with fattening room service food (I think I've put on a good 10 pounds, by the way—just in case you were keeping track), but a real restaurant with servers and a bar and everything. We got out of the car, and he took my hand and we walked in together. It was crazy. I can't remember the last time we got to do that. When we were living at my old place at least, and its been HOW long since then? I just—the way it felt. Having him hold my hand as he walked in front of me and we walked into the restaurant, I felt like a princess. He's taller than I am obviously, and the way I feel when I'm being shielded by him and I'm looking up and seeing those broad shoulders and his soft, soft hair, it's like he's my protector. I know I know...barf. Nauseating. But it's true!! It was like the first time he held my hand, back in the park on that first night we met, it was like someone plugged a 9 volt battery into my heart and hit the 'on' switch. Not that I don't always feel that way around him. But the...the electricity! My heart was pounding the whole time, I don't know if it was because of HIS presence, or OUR presence together. I just---I'm not good enough with words to sit here and try to put how they felt down on paper...but oh God it was magical. Being outside, in the open, and having him clutch my hand for anyone who cared to see. I finally felt like I was...his. And when we got inside, he kissed my hand and whispered..."Are you okay?" because there were a couple of photographers who had followed us, taking our picture and it was sort of scary. Anyways...so he whispered that and I melted into a puddle of gloop. I always get like that around him, even to this day, and sometimes it ticks me off (especially when I'm mad at him), but this time...it felt like we were on our very first date or something. I felt like a giddy schoolgirl. And I don't know WHY! It's nutty! Anyways—so he did that and I was all giggling and acting like a total asshole, then we sat down and the waiter came over to take our drink orders. I just ordered a Diet Pepsi (no Coke, unfortunately. Contracts, contracts.) while Mike just got a water (we're a boring pair! Haha!) and I'll admit that even at age 25 I still like to drink from a straw, but the waiter didn't give me one. And when he came back, Mike goes "May I please get a straw for my wife's drink?"

....awwwwww. The waiter kind of stumbled for a bit at the words "my" and "wife", but I got my straw!

Sweet bunny cupcakes. (Started calling him that, I don't know why. He always groans, but I think deep down he likes it when I call him bunny cupcakes or my snugglie wugglie monkey man or sugar buns. I've got other nicknames for him too, but it would be unladylike of me to list those here, since most of them have erotic connotations.)

Correction. We were in Indianapolis. When we went out to dinner. Because it was our wedding anniversary. 4 years!! Can you believe it?!! He had to perform that night so as soon as it was done we hosed him down real quick cause he gets so sweaty and stinky, then scooted off to a nice Italian restaurant who stayed open a little late for us. I got this wonderful garlicky creamy dish and he got...Chicken parmesan, I want to say. So nice to see him eating good proteins. Okay...getting off track. Oh, wait, you wanted to hear about events that happened later on? Being the gentle tulip I am (Ha!!) I'll keep those saucy details to myself. Let's just say we left the hotel an incredibly generous tip for any damages the headboard caused to the wall....*whistles*

After he pulled that stunt in front of the whole crew (which shocked the HELL out of me—I could barely move and I'm pretty sure I was bawling like a little baby but I was so numb I can't really tell you for sure what I did), when he told everyone we were married, things definitely changed. I don't mean that in a bad way, because for the most part everybody was pretty cool about it. Shocked but cool. My friends just had a lot of questions up front, Mindy in particular kept her distance from me because she was hurt that we were friends and yet I had been "lying" to her for so long. And she was right. I had been lying. She had every reason to feel betrayed by that, and that's something I hadn't really taken into consideration...before. How my friends would feel when finding out about us. In all honesty, yeah, we had been lying. I just gave her space and when she was ready to ask me questions I was more than willing to. I apologized profusely and just said that none of it was ever personal, and that I was sorry if I hurt anyone's feelings. Which I WAS, definitely. Making someone else sad just guts me.

We're fine now, though sometimes I get the feeling that they now hold back a little, like I'm a mole now. Or something. Like I'm taking info back to the boss. Like, it's not safe to be open around me anymore because I'm Michael Jackson's wife. I...haven't talked to them about this yet, because I don't know if that is the paranoia in my own mind, or if it fact they really are walking on eggshells around me. It's a tricky area. Maddie thinks I'm just being paranoid, but sometimes I swear that when I walk into a room it goes silent, just because I've showed up and there's certain stuff they don't want to say around me. They're nice about it, they're never mean or ask me to leave, but it's just...something I can sense. I think they might even look at me differently too.

BLLLLLAAAAA. Enough moaning. God, I swear that's all I do these days. Piss and moan. Piss and moan. Wah. Wah.

Somebody just punch me in the face already.

On the funny side though, sometimes now when Mike does some of his "touchy feely" moves on stage (like when he rubs his hands down the entire length of his body) or is...oh geez its embarrassing for me to even write this...but when he thrusts really hard when he's dancing, or if he grabs himself...I SWEAR some of the girls backstage watch him, then look at me, then back to him and then back to me again. So I'm seeing this and thinking to myself, "Yes. I get to have sex with him. ALL THE TIME." Isn't that horrible?!! Such a child. I might as well sing the "neener neener" song to them. No. I just ignore it and pretend to find something on the floor really interesting. But it's funny, it cracks me up. I just try to pretend like I don't notice them looking at me when he really lets loose. He's been doing it especially more on Dirty Diana. Like...naughty things with the mic stand and stuff. Holy bananas. I'm don't think he's been sneaking out to strip bars when I'm sleeping, but with these new moves, sometimes I'm not so sure.

...(this is getting really long...) ( and I use .... a lot. Elipses? Ellipsses? Ellipses? Whatever.)

Anyways, (I use that word too much as well), I just thought I'd check in. We've both been bad about our journal writing lately, so I thought on our off days we'd make a point to sit down for however much time and just...write. Everything happens so fast and so BIG that it's hard to remember everything. It all just blends into one. We'll want to look back one day and remember this, and sometimes the video isn't enough. Video can't read into our minds, can't tell us what we were thinking at that moment.

I think I'm writing a lot more than he is. He's much more...thought out. I just write down whatever comes to mind and that's why a lot of this doesn't make too much sense and just sounds like an 8 year old babbling nonsense. But he's so precise, like, everything he writes has to MEAN something.

It's beautiful.

He's sitting across from me on the couch right now. I can tell he's growing antsy because I see his eyes looking at me from over the top of his own journal, and his legs are starting to dance. I'll just pretend to not notice.

Oh no. He noticed me noticing him. And now he's sliding his foot underneath me to tickle my butt with his toes. Wait. Nope. Just had cold feet. Oh my God, has my butt gotten so big that he's using it for insulation now?

Diet. Starts. Tomorrow.

Okay. It's dinner time. I'm thinking of ordering up popcorn from the hotel kitchen. Yes, I sometimes eat popcorn for meals. Don't judge. I wonder what their biggest size is. Maybe a tub? A barrel?

Good night, journal. I will talk to you soon. Thanks for letting me vent to you, even when I mistreat your pages with my rage.

Love,
Zo

________________

April 21, 1988

I can't sleep.

Which is maddening, because I'm absolutely exhausted. Not even halfway through the tour yet and I'm already dreaming of our own bed back home. Zo is sleeping next to me at my side. She's snoring a little, which I always think is so cute. It's not ugly snoring, like the kind my brothers do/did. Just a sweet little wheezing. Now, thinking of it, I think that might have where my insomnia problems all started. Not being able to sleep because of Jermaine or Jackie's loud pig snoring. (Or them treating a groupie to a "one night only" show, even though Marlon and I were in the bed just 10 feet away.) Speaking of pigs...I wonder how Sophie is doing. She's so big now, it's funny. Not as big as a regular hog, but big for her. Zoey was whining before we left for tour because none of Sophie's outfits fit her no more. Just as well—shouldn't be dressing up a pig anyways.

What day is it?

They all blend in now. Mondays into Tuesdays Tuesday into Wednesdays.