You have to remember that when we were going to the Limelight we were about 16 or 17 so we were still super young. How my parents allowed me out of the house at 16 in some of the outfits that I wore I have NO idea. My parents though always treated me like a responsible adult and as long as I behaved in a decent responsible manner all was good. I never did drugs, never drank, & they always knew where I was. In return, I was allowed to go to Rocky Horror every Friday and Saturday from the age of 14.
The club we used to go to in Brooklyn was called L'Amour (The rock capitol of Brooklyn) and our parents used to drive us out there but we had to cab it home. (Or find a ride home with a nice cute boy with a sexy car)
Looking back on some of the dumber stuff we did I cringe and thank GOD we weren't hurt or murdered. (My favorite stupid Diana moment was leaving a club in Queens to go with a strange boy to his VAN.)
But back to the Limelight.
Made for a really REALLY long Monday at school but the sacrifice was worth it.
Once a year on Sunday the Hell's Angels took over the club and it was their night. Of course we all still showed up but you could expect a hell of a lot more debauchery since they regard women as meat and there is much much drinking and drugging going on. (said in her best Russian accent)
On that night, you didn't dress to the 9's and maybe you left the spandex at home and opted for jeans and a cute top.
Back then I was 4'9" and.Chrissy was 6'. She was a beautiful menacing presence and you didn't mess with her. We had an unspoken rule that we always stayed together and she always led the way because she was taller and could see over the crowds better. We often held hands so we didn't get separated and I guess if you didn't know us the way we hugged and hung on each other and were always together you might think we were more than pals. Though I loved her in a way I'll never love another human being, it was a totally platonic relationship.
There were these stairs at Limelight, they were the way to the dance floor and they way up to the bathroom.
They were the way into the club and out of the club.
Important stairs.
She went up ahead of me and all of a sudden I'm no longer on my feet but on someone's shoulder being carried up the stairs like a slab of meat. Some biker decided I was yummy and was taking me to his lair to do lord knows what with me. Looking back I'm afraid that the situation might have been a lot more dangerous than I thought at the time. With the respect and regard that the Angels have for women (none) I could have been in real real trouble if he had taken me to his pals.
I screamed out for Chrissy and to this day I have NO idea how she heard me but she stopped at the top of the stairs and blocked it so they couldn't get by. She fixed this huge man with her best laser death stare and with her hands on her hips said "Put. her. down" The biker laughed and so she said it again "Put. her. down"
He asked her why he should and she said "Because she belongs to me"
I have no idea if it was her delivery or her presence or if he thought she was interesting because the next thing I knew she was wrapped around me in a possessive hold till he passed.
Thank GOD for her and her confidence...
I hate that she and I spend 30 years creating memories and having adventures 90% of which were only she and I and now I'm the only one who can remember. I'm alone in my time rewinds.
Her birthday is coming up on May 17th. She would have been 36 this year.
Her father is waiting for her new headstone to arrive and when it does I'm going to go and visit her. I check in on him often via email because he is so super lost without her. I keep in touch with him because he has no one else who understand why he's still grieving 3 years after she's gone.
I keep in touch because I understand why he decided to change her headstone to remove her asshole husband's name (He's never visited her once). I keep in touch because 30 years of friendship is a long time and a hell of a lot of memories.
He goes out to visit her every single weekend without fail. Every single Sunday he's out sitting with her. He's planted beautiful flowers that I know she would love and he keeps her company.
Not a single day goes by that I don't think of her in some fashion and I'll never forget her and will miss her till the day I die.
This is her grave. Her grave. I keep flashing back to when we were about 14 or 15 getting ready to go out. She was so full of love and life and confidence and really and truly lived every single day to it's fullest. She made no apologies for who she was and transformed herself to fit the times effortlessly. She did Goth, Punk, Glam and then finally Rockabilly. She became each of those styles and each was flawless.She dated beautiful men and rock stars. She was connected and knew everyone. If you were to have told me back then that she would die in a motorcycle accident before the age of 35 I would have punched you in the nose.
Losing her reminds me that every day should be fun and an adventure and should be given your 100% all. You never know if tomorrow will come or not.
Wow...this post took a turn I didn't expect it to...Okay then...onto some photos!
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