12:30 PM Flight Los Angeles to Denver Dec 6 1968
Horrible birthday in Tijuana with Uncle Clive at the Caesar’s Hotel (chef claims to have invented the Caesar salad ) – I had oysters Rockefeller and I was all I could do to keep his hands off me (right in front of his wife!!) He just wants to “pet” and thinks I should give in because my dinner & hotel bill so expensive. Ugh. I should burn these damn diaries – it’s just one awful thing after another! Forward, as Molesworth used to say, Into the Past. It’’ my rabbit hole. Reading Marcette Chute’s Shakespeare of London. Everyone should read this book. History doesn’t change human nature nearly as much as we suppose. Pastors are worried that the people are exposed to violence and sin, parents want children brought up honest & thrifty, politicians run for office to advance their wives’ status – in fact, everyone has a lawsuit pending and all are intent on moving up a class! Sound familiar? Plus ça change… Midnight – Mon – 15 Dec 68 – Pewter Hill Writing in purple pen so I can SEE. Toss called tonight concerned about lack of letters. But what is there to say? He pulled away first. I no longer have boundless trust that he will understand anything I say. If he got me alone in the dark that would be another thing entirely. No loss of honesty there. Now I face a lifetime of him bringing ME up with every significant girlfriend he ever has. “I had this horrible experience with this one girl…” The whole Freudian thing while legions of faceless girls cluck sympathetically over mutilated Alysse. I am murderously pissed at him for telling Beales. His story is we lost our “divinities” together. Hallelujah, brother. Sign up at the Phila College of Dance. They will take anybody. They pair me with the sole male who is the other Bad Dancer. (Because we are both tall?) But he can do lifts! And I can stay still and am too nearsighted to see the floor! So we are made for each other! Thinking of turning Tis Pity She’s a Whore into a dance routine for me and Spike while Genevieve pressures me about my mess of a “career”. I wish I had faith that any college I went to would actually enhance my learning as opposed to simply dumping more stuff on me I have to overcome. So far everything I am is the product of The Plumly Resistance. Enfants de la patrie, les jours de gloire est arrivee, baby. “Do all the directors in Hollywood long to become respectable in the eyes of their high school English teachers and remake THE LIFE OF EMILE ZOLA? Don’t they remember what a drag it was?” How I love Pauline Kael. (New Yorkr Dec 21 – 68) 2:10 AM Mon Dec 23, 1968 – Skiing Pinkham Notch I thrash about – prisoner of my restless brain (and body). Devon is too beautiful; as beautiful as a god. I stare at him openmouthed while he lectures me on (1) how not to ski and (2) finding God among the silent pines on the snowy slopes. Witness! He is unspeakably gorgeous with long blonde hair, tall, hard bodied but tender and sensitive as a girl. He has a trick of staring deeply into my eyes that makes me shiver uncontrollably until my teeth chatter. He took away my ski poles to make me a better skier – it didn’t work. I slam into every object. But who cares? If I lose consciousness he will carry me. Mine eyes dazzle. Avril says Toss called Pewter Hill wondering where I am. Needs an address to send his “Dear Jane” letter to. Finishing Nancy Cunard, Brave Poet Indomitable Rebel. Not much of a poet but a lot of a rebel. It’s just a pleasure to live the years of Black Mischief and Decline and Fall (not Pinfold, which declined and fell. I think Waugh’s liking for the military is the weirdest thing about him. Weirder than Catholicism.) Nothing wrong with me that a good sex life would not cure. Mom & Dad invite Devon for New Year’s Eve.
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Alysse Aallyn
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