June 6th, 1995

**JUNE 6th, 1995 9 am**

**"No box is big enough to contain our imaginations."**

I'm Tara Hartwick.

I'm a 23 year old graduate film student trying to make it as a director. I idolize Martin Scorsese; believe it or not I identify with "Raging Bull". It's my favorite movie...I know what it feels like to be manipulated and then feel like I've been punched in the face for 15 rounds. I know I've got talent and a point of view and I see no reason to hold back just because of the lack of funds to produce my celluloid dreams. I also have no desire to shout to the empty pages of a journal only to be the sole member of the reading audience. Furthermore, I like collaborating and my housemates are (mostly) into being involved. The Net gives us all an opportunity for self expression in the most candid and provocative way...with a potential audience of 20 million and counting. And a captive audience as long as we don't disappoint. So this is our story but more than that, the continuing adventures of The Spot. Just to make things interesting, we've agreed not to read each other's pages.

So here we go. If you haven't heard of it, The Spot is a huge seven bedroom beach house that's been around for 42 years with an infamous history of wild partying and debauchery.

Supposedly people like Marilyn Monroe, James Dean and Jim Morrison hung out here. It was known as the after hours spot...and was originally owned by the now legendary Bobby Dooley Jr. who was found dead in this very bathtub.

There are all sorts of unusual finds in this old house. Obviously it's been tackled by a few far out interior designers through the years and there are lots of tales to be discovered about its history. There are five of us living here now.  Carrie Seaver who just moved in. She's from back east or something. She seems nice enough. You can see by her picture she's really pretty but she is strange about her looks, like she doesn't know or doesn't really care that she's attractive. Weird.

On the opposite side of the narcissistic coin there is Lon Oliver -- "The Actor". Lon claims he is some distant relative to Sir Lawrence Olivier....yeah right. I must admit, he's almost as attractive as he thinks he is. Check out those pecs. And he's rugged...definitely not one of the pretty boys. Lon's lived here almost two years. He moved in about a month before I did.

And then there's Michelle Foster. You won't get any more information from her right now, even though she claims to be totally committed to this thing, because she just "hasn't had the time". You will, however, find some killer photos of her from last summer, right after she moved in. The guys should love that. Michelle has a hot bod or didn't you notice?

Then of course, there's Jeff Benton. He's lived here since he was a little boy with his older brothers. He knows more about The Spot than any of us but unfortunately he won't share any of this juicy information. He barely talks to us and I doubt we'll ever get him to be involved with our project. I hate those quiet, moody rebel types, especially when they have those piercing blue eyes that can see right through a girl.

This is Spotnik; the first "Cyberian Husky" in Cyber space. He's nobody's dog, really. He's just always been at The Spot; kind of a mascot. Rumor has it he was Bobby Dooley Jr.'s dog. I don't think so. Not unless the dog is something like 32 years old....that's 224 years to you and me. Maybe he's an ancestor of the original like all those Lassie's or Rin Tin Tin's.

I hope you guys out there hang with us regularly at The Spot. Share in the unpredictable wackiness that this place brings out in all of us. If history (and for all you feminists out there, herstory) is any indication, there should be some wild times ahead. Coming up this weekend, we're having an intimate gathering to celebrate the project. I'll tell you all about it.

**JUNE 6th, 1995 9 am**

**JUNE 6th, 1995 9 am**

I NEED TO COMMUNICATE, PEOPLE! It's just that sometimes I get tongue tied. Good thing I'm at a computer. So talk to me... don't just expect me to spew forth recollections and insights to you. I am pretty open, but I'm not an actor, I'm a reactor. I've been known to spill my guts if you know which buttons to push. So push away... but do me a favor: Ask me things that matter. Questions about life and soul and feeling. Get it? Good. By the way, my name is Carrie Seaver. Please talk to me. Thanks.

**JUNE 6th, 1995 9 am**