Sun 17 Sept 67 – 11 PM
Definitely one of the worst days of my life. A sick, sad, whipped feeling. Feel like I may “give in” to Dan and say I love him if he wants me to say it. Evicted from tennis. Heard that “trying to be friendly” with Reed means “I want him back”. Says everyone. I can’t totally deny it. Do I? Depends how he acts! On everything! People being real for two seconds at a time! Sat night I sent him his Blues Project record back with short KOB. “You can call me from a snow white, starlit stairway I may hear and not be far away at all But the sounds of our winter’s love at night time They have vanished…they have silenced…” (Steve’s song) In chapel I sat directly across from Shawn on the Facing Bench. He looked so smugly beautiful, so big, magnificent and male. He has a perfect profile. Raincoat over pajamas, I sat muttering in my own filth. Picking my face. Boredom like an anguish. Back at the dorm Dan calls, tried to make me jealous with all the girls he took out this weekend, want to come next weekend. Here! I babbled that would be way too hard for me. Blaming Casey would be the easy way out. I don’t know what to do. I’ll have to take a sleepover. Read Blues for Mister Charlie. It ripped me up inside but we can’t perform it – write a “white” version? Possibly. Realized I am not a leader. Listening to them babble about rules and administration at senior play meeting in the library I see why Shawn and I can’t converse. I even hate team sports, so my loathing of the group dynamic runs deep. I used to be a Transcendentalist but now I think I am an anarchist. Shawn wanted to talk afterwards. I asked why he’s avoiding me! Said he’d met a girl this summer who showed how superficial our relationship had been! I flinch when he and Reed use exactly the same words about me!!! I know they’ve been talking!!! I asked him if a man feels like a success to himself but everyone else thinks he’s a failure, what is he? Shawn says “a success.” But if a girl thinks she’s not a bitch and everyone else thinks she is… “She’s a bitch.” He says. I cry unfair! Said I was sorry for the impression he has of me but I couldn’t correct it. He said, “What impression do I have of you?” Fortunately I was crying too hard to even ATTEMPT to answer that question. Tonight a “Thank you – buzz off” KOB from Reed! I should feel better “having” Dan, says Aynsley. But I don’t “have” him. People don’t have other people (especially me and Dan.) Made myself feel better by buying a Thanksgiving dress from McKenzie. $5. Barely used. Short, black velvet with exotic lace sleeves. Seemed more like “Dan’s dress” than mine; a weird experience of looking at myself from the outside-in – triggered by Shawn’s sarcastic, cruel expression. At least Dan doesn’t mind when I cry around him – if that’s how life makes me feel. Depend on NY Times & tea to right all wrongs. Casey talking angrily about me with the other girls. Miss Beeston insists, “You are what you seem.” That can’t be true. I know Thoreau & Emerson are on my side. Wed 20 Sept 67 There are people in the world who think I have potential. Dan, for one. I was so grateful to him for the good things he said I almost cried. He called me last night during dinner and I was glad to hear from him, wondering what he did when he was here (I took a sleepover.) Said he visited Master Gwill and they discussed ME. Master Gwill says the reason people think I’m not honest is that I’m so honest! Thank you very much! Usually I can’t be bothered to lie – it makes me feel they’ve won. (Using Artful Measures usually fails dismally anyway.) Dan says his sister Janie disapproves of our dating. (Of course she does – she rooms with Marnie.) I love love LOVE George Bernard Shaw such a charming, reasonable man. His preface to St Joan is so delightful! Are there any other dramatists skilled at the expository style? Fri 22 Sept 67 Why spoil love by turning it into Valhalla? Valhalla is for dead people. Every time a magazine article appears about Sick Sex Morals of Today’s Youth there’s an answering barrage of letters from housewives who are so Sorry for us for “giving up” the Sacred Night of Love with your Eternal, Glorious, God-Mandated Virginal Husband. It bothers me that they don’t realize calling your wedding day “the happiest day of your life” sounds more like a sentence than a reward. It’s all downhill after that is hardly a recommendation! I’ve got enough rules thank you very much. “I can’t send him a KOB till he sends me one” I can’t ask him till he asks me” I can’t kiss him till he kisses me” and I CERTAINLY can’t say I love him until he says he loves me! I don’t blame the senior boys for their rage over this mess, the problem is, inertia’s not an answer. Dan called me Thurs the fiftieth time this week. I called him back as “Juanita Devereux” (he says his frat brother think he’s married.) He was VERY depressed. I couldn’t think what else to say when he said nobody cared anything about him, I said I LOVE YOU. The deadest silence. (What an idiot I am.) Finally I asked, “Have you committed suicide?” “Did you mean what you just said?” Uh oh. I love you, I love my dog – we’re both grasping at straws here. I tried telling him that the wonderful way he has treated me has made me love him. He’s very lovable. ANYBODY WOULD LOVE HIM. I could tell it’s not quite what he wanted to hear. In Bible class we discussed what a shock it is to discover there is a world apart from your perceptions. If your perceptions are screwed up YOU COULD BE COMPLETELY WRONG ABOUT EVERYTHING. True, too true. But does it MATTER? (Think of Van Gogh.)
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Sun 17 Sept 67 – 11 PM
Definitely one of the worst days of my life. A sick, sad, whipped feeling. Feel like I may “give in” to Dan and say I love him if he wants me to say it. Evicted from tennis. Heard that “trying to be friendly” with Reed means “I want him back”. Says everyone. I can’t totally deny it. Do I? Depends how he acts! On everything! People being real for two seconds at a time! Sat night I sent him his Blues Project record back with short KOB. “You can call me from a snow white, starlit stairway I may hear and not be far away at all But the sounds of our winter’s love at night time They have vanished…they have silenced…” (Steve’s song) In chapel I sat directly across from Shawn on the Facing Bench. He looked so smugly beautiful, so big, magnificent and male. He has a perfect profile. Raincoat over pajamas, I sat muttering in my own filth. Picking my face. Boredom like an anguish. Back at the dorm Dan calls, tried to make me jealous with all the girls he took out this weekend, want to come next weekend. Here! I babbled that would be way too hard for me. Blaming Casey would be the easy way out. I don’t know what to do. I’ll have to take a sleepover. Read Blues for Mister Charlie. It ripped me up inside but we can’t perform it – write a “white” version? Possibly. Realized I am not a leader. Listening to them babble about rules and administration at senior play meeting in the library I see why Shawn and I can’t converse. I even hate team sports, so my loathing of the group dynamic runs deep. I used to be a Transcendentalist but now I think I am an anarchist. Shawn wanted to talk afterwards. I asked why he’s avoiding me! Said he’d met a girl this summer who showed how superficial our relationship had been! I flinch when he and Reed use exactly the same words about me!!! I know they’ve been talking!!! I asked him if a man feels like a success to himself but everyone else thinks he’s a failure, what is he? Shawn says “a success.” But if a girl thinks she’s not a bitch and everyone else thinks she is… “She’s a bitch.” He says. I cry unfair! Said I was sorry for the impression he has of me but I couldn’t correct it. He said, “What impression do I have of you?” Fortunately I was crying too hard to even ATTEMPT to answer that question. Tonight a “Thank you – buzz off” KOB from Reed! I should feel better “having” Dan, says Aynsley. But I don’t “have” him. People don’t have other people (especially me and Dan.) Made myself feel better by buying a Thanksgiving dress from McKenzie. $5. Barely used. Short, black velvet with exotic lace sleeves. Seemed more like “Dan’s dress” than mine; a weird experience of looking at myself from the outside-in – triggered by Shawn’s sarcastic, cruel expression. At least Dan doesn’t mind when I cry around him – if that’s how life makes me feel. Depend on NY Times & tea to right all wrongs. Casey talking angrily about me with the other girls. Miss Beeston insists, “You are what you seem.” That can’t be true. I know Thoreau & Emerson are on my side. Wed 20 Sept 67 There are people in the world who think I have potential. Dan, for one. I was so grateful to him for the good things he said I almost cried. He called me last night during dinner and I was glad to hear from him, wondering what he did when he was here (I took a sleepover.) Said he visited Master Gwill and they discussed ME. Master Gwill says the reason people think I’m not honest is that I’m so honest! Thank you very much! Usually I can’t be bothered to lie – it makes me feel they’ve won. (Using Artful Measures usually fails dismally anyway.) Dan says his sister Janie disapproves of our dating. (Of course she does – she rooms with Marnie.) I love love LOVE George Bernard Shaw such a charming, reasonable man. His preface to St Joan is so delightful! Are there any other dramatists skilled at the expository style? Fri 22 Sept 67 Why spoil love by turning it into Valhalla? Valhalla is for dead people. Every time a magazine article appears about Sick Sex Morals of Today’s Youth there’s an answering barrage of letters from housewives who are so Sorry for us for “giving up” the Sacred Night of Love with your Eternal, Glorious, God-Mandated Virginal Husband. It bothers me that they don’t realize calling your wedding day “the happiest day of your life” sounds more like a sentence than a reward. It’s all downhill after that is hardly a recommendation! I’ve got enough rules thank you very much. “I can’t send him a KOB till he sends me one” I can’t ask him till he asks me” I can’t kiss him till he kisses me” and I CERTAINLY can’t say I love him until he says he loves me! I don’t blame the senior boys for their rage over this mess, the problem is, inertia’s not an answer. Dan called me Thurs the fiftieth time this week. I called him back as “Juanita Devereux” (he says his frat brother think he’s married.) He was VERY depressed. I couldn’t think what else to say when he said nobody cared anything about him, I said I LOVE YOU. The deadest silence. (What an idiot I am.) Finally I asked, “Have you committed suicide?” “Did you mean what you just said?” Uh oh. I love you, I love my dog – we’re both grasping at straws here. I tried telling him that the wonderful way he has treated me has made me love him. He’s very lovable. ANYBODY WOULD LOVE HIM. I could tell it’s not quite what he wanted to hear. In Bible class we discussed what a shock it is to discover there is a world apart from your perceptions. If your perceptions are screwed up YOU COULD BE COMPLETELY WRONG ABOUT EVERYTHING. True, too true. But does it MATTER? (Think of Van Gogh.) Sat. 16 Sept 67
Dr. Gilmour handed out axioms in philosophy and asked if they were true or false. Biff Withers & I are the only ones who said “true” to THE LAWS OF NATURE GOVERN EVERYTHING. I argued humans are “natural” ergo everything we think & do is “natural.” If there were Martians, they would be “natural” too. Screams all around. Dan says he is planning to sleep with me. I’m thinking about it. Aynsley says senior boys are Not Dating so I could be desperate. But things are getting a bit sticky with Casey, who should be “done” with Dan and also not caring because we haven’t technically “done” anything. She insists she doesn’t “want” him any more but she also insults my pride by saying he is only doing this because of her. To get back at her, I guess and I am too irritated to argue because anything I could say would only make things worse. I quote the Stones “Just tryin’ to make a connection” but she is not impressed. Dan, Dan, Dan, what am I going to do about you? It’s nice having someone “care” even if they are far away. But…he sent me a bottle of 4711 and a Racing America t-shirt. I like good presents a lot more than Playboy cards or letters where he talks about what an “ideal couple” we will be the “great novelist and the great actress.” What if I want to write novels? I don’t like being typecast! Speaking of connections I keep running into Shawn but I am waiting for him to make the first move (or I am guaranteed to disgrace myself.) Last night we had a Square Dance in the New Gym. Scavenger hunts (which we usually have) are more fun but I went anyway and lo and behold who should be there but Shawn. Reed looked in wearing his green plaid lumberjack coat – then left. (Trying not to be insulted.) Shawn was administering the ice cream table and I helped him, fantasizing about a pleasant, emotionally uninvolved yet friendly year. He tried to talk to me but faculty members kept coming up – it just wasn’t a good scene. Still I didn’t like his “air”. Felt repressive. He COULD send me a KOB and he hasn’t so I should read the writing on the wall and slip away. Stuck with Kip whose deep doggy eyes scare me. He is very smart; tall enough, a little on the thin side, handsome, blond – it ought to be cool. But there is a weirdness about him I feel screams “danger.” Could be I am seeing the reflection of my own weirdness in his eyes! Aren’t we in trouble then! Constant interruptions from underclassmen bringing in their door signs for my signature – making this hard to write. Think authors should remain unknown. Also spent all morning taking “Gramm’s tests” I think they are called which are horrendous “right answer” tests where you have to display, among other things, your knowledge of “correct” tennis court construction! This literally makes me foam at the mouth. It has nothing whatever to do with intelligence and really tests how meek, unquestioning and malleable you are. Shudder. Aynsley tells me not to get hysterical, give them what they want. If I gave them what they want would I be virgo intacta after all these months? Moving letter from Merrill about Mom, very wise and forgiving. She sets such high standards for herself, if we fall short she blames herself. Then why is she mean to us? Feels babyish to me but I get that Merrill is being understanding and generous. The more you love someone the more you want to struggle with them in my experience. Being “forgiven” is totally the kiss of death. Reading Kafka’s The Castle. Mann calls him a “religious humorist” which seems all wrong to me. This is a bureaucracy allegory. It’s now 2:30 and we seniors must rehearse our skit for Camp Suppers this evening. We are doing Ali Baba and the 40 thieves. Aujourd’hui c’est toi. Poem from Dan- Words Are Such Liars Sitting on the roof The other night wind ruffled my memories made my eyes wet. Trying to write a poem Definition destroys delight. Could speech ease the pressing thing within me Bridge the distance Or should I bribe the silent future Touch your silken skin & hair? This is the poem that made Casey cry. I tried to tell her one cannot feel complimented by a very bad poem. Plumly School, Thurs. 14 Sept 67
Some damn bell went off at 6:55 and I propped open my frozen eyes stuck fast with wedding cake. Having a horrible sex dream about George Hamilton. Who was I really dreaming about? “L’ombre parmi les ombres, D’être cent fois plus ombre que l’ombre D’être l’ombre qui viendra et reviendra…” Just like old times staggering to the Tower and standing in line for a washbasin. This being a senior business hasn’t helped me so far. Feel as if I’ve been here for 400 years. If I had a diamond I’d scratch on the window: Quoth Alysse, ye Prisonniere” but the best I’ve got is an amethyst. Come to think of it I could use my record needle. This is what geology teaches. Admit I enjoy senior stairs & bench in chapel. Dressed in old clothes – everyone wearing new so I couldn’t possibly outclass them. Best approach is build up slowly. New black tweed dress a bit too classy for ordinary day plus the skirt will give Miss Wormrest her well-deserved heart attack. Seems Christian to toughen the old bird up slowly before we spring the scary stuff. Miss Beeston wearing a LITERAL BEEHIVE (there’s something living in there) gave Collection but I forgot about my New Leaf and did not listen. I am sitting at Mrs. Kurtz’s table, which is very sad. She is the one who uses conversation cards and says We Must Hold Up Our End. Why, oh why? How can an eight-person dining table have so many ends? Can’t we take turns napping? Right after Grace I thundered over to the coffee table for the Mississippi Mud that is due me. It isn’t good but we have to pretend – “holding up our end” for the wide-eyed freshman who think we are all hard-drinking sluts. (Hope we are.) 2nd cup of coffee who should I slam into but Reed! He is taller and much better looking. I could tell he knew it was me by the way his neck froze. I said Hi, he mumbled good morning and staggered away. He’s probably on drugs; that was always his Senior Plan. He’s doing his thesis on Aldous Huxley. Saw my little bro last night but little sis has yet to make an appearance. Probably slashed her wrists when she discovered her family’s plans to inter her here. And who can blame her? It’s true the place is co-ed but the only thing worse than dating is not dating. All part of their clever plan to break our spirit. Sent my little bro a KOB full of cryptic quotes for him to puzzle over. Aynsley & I had fun arranging our room. Looks less bad with tie-dyed bedspreads & Doors & Byrds posters. To everything there is a season… Little sis showed up, I gave her a door sign with a big wicker fan chair saying “Meet Maris Wicker” on it. Seems a good kid. She is very musical. Shawn said he had a great summer “spiritually.” Seems ominous. Dan is now saying he is in love with me, probably to keep me from dating. This is all my fault for playing footsie with him under the table when he had dinner at our house. His roommate asked him, “How much have you gotten?” “Nothing.” “Nothing! And you’re snowed already!” Junior Wells did the exact same show he did in Boston. At least he’s good to dance to. Prospects? Only Kip’s face lights up when I sit beside him on Senior Bench. Last night saw A Man and a Woman with Aynsley, her sister and her sister’s husband. It was just terrific! Music really gets under your skin! “Samba without sadness is a wine that can’t get you drunk,” says Pierre Barouh. Coffee afterwards with grads from Claudia’s year who have joined a cult called The Temple! They are sadly changed but think they are improved. I think if you look and act like you’ve had a lobotomy it is guaranteed not a good spiritual experience. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with Shawn. Must ask. Plumly School, Thurs. 14 Sept 67
Some damn bell went off at 6:55 and I propped open my frozen eyes stuck fast with wedding cake. Having a horrible sex dream about George Hamilton. Who was I really dreaming about? “L’ombre parmi les ombres, D’être cent fois plus ombre que l’ombre D’être l’ombre qui viendra et reviendra…” Just like old times staggering to the Tower and standing in line for a washbasin. This being a senior business hasn’t helped me so far. Feel as if I’ve been here for 400 years. If I had a diamond I’d scratch on the window: Quoth Alysse, ye Prisonniere” but the best I’ve got is an amethyst. Come to think of it I could use my record needle. This is what geology teaches. Admit I enjoy senior stairs & bench in chapel. Dressed in old clothes – everyone wearing new so I couldn’t possibly outclass them. Best approach is build up slowly. New black tweed dress a bit too classy for ordinary day plus the skirt will give Miss Wormrest her well-deserved heart attack. Seems Christian to toughen the old bird up slowly before we spring the scary stuff. Miss Beeston wearing a LITERAL BEEHIVE (there’s something living in there) gave Collection but I forgot about my New Leaf and did not listen. I am sitting at Mrs. Kurtz’s table, which is very sad. She is the one who uses conversation cards and says We Must Hold Up Our End. Why, oh why? How can an eight-person dining table have so many ends? Can’t we take turns napping? Right after Grace I thundered over to the coffee table for the Mississippi Mud that is due me. It isn’t good but we have to pretend – “holding up our end” for the wide-eyed freshman who think we are all hard-drinking sluts. (Hope we are.) 2nd cup of coffee who should I slam into but Reed! He is taller and much better looking. I could tell he knew it was me by the way his neck froze. I said Hi, he mumbled good morning and staggered away. He’s probably on drugs; that was always his Senior Plan. He’s doing his thesis on Aldous Huxley. Saw my little bro last night but little sis has yet to make an appearance. Probably slashed her wrists when she discovered her family’s plans to inter her here. And who can blame her? It’s true the place is co-ed but the only thing worse than dating is not dating. All part of their clever plan to break our spirit. Sent my little bro a KOB full of cryptic quotes for him to puzzle over. Aynsley & I had fun arranging our room. Looks less bad with tie-dyed bedspreads & Doors & Byrds posters. To everything there is a season… Little sis showed up, I gave her a door sign with a big wicker fan chair saying “Meet Maris Wicker” on it. Seems a good kid. She is very musical. Shawn said he had a great summer “spiritually.” Seems ominous. Dan is now saying he is in love with me, probably to keep me from dating. This is all my fault for playing footsie with him under the table when he had dinner at our house. His roommate asked him, “How much have you gotten?” “Nothing.” “Nothing! And you’re snowed already!” Junior Wells did the exact same show he did in Boston. At least he’s good to dance to. Prospects? Only Kip’s face lights up when I sit beside him on Senior Bench. Last night saw A Man and a Woman with Aynsley, her sister and her sister’s husband. It was just terrific! Music really gets under your skin! “Samba without sadness is a wine that can’t get you drunk,” says Pierre Barouh. Coffee afterwards with grads from Claudia’s year who have joined a cult called The Temple! They are sadly changed but think they are improved. I think if you look and act like you’ve had a lobotomy it is guaranteed not a good spiritual experience. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with Shawn. Must ask. Mon 4 Sept 67
Dan’s and my second date began EXACTLY THE SAME WAY. This is the problem between Germantown and the Main Line - the two are meant Never to cross. Lost my contacts and couldn’t find them. Absolutely gone! So I was late. Went to a restaurant called Café Lafitte of Drury Lane which I liked MUCH more than the first one. We sat practically in the fireplace! And this restaurant had people. Didn’t even make it to the movie. I was surprised by how much I wanted Dan. This dating stuff is definitely thawing me. Also he won’t be at Plumly so it feels like a “get out jail free” card. Plus Dan is interesting. He describes himself as the “bastard son of a bastard son.” Says his father wanted to be F. Scott Fitzgerald but had to go into business so whatever choice Dan makes will be wrong. We went back to his house for coffee – except I would rather have tea – and while he was making it I sat in an armchair so he couldn’t sit beside. He sat at my feet so I could admire his hair and his beautiful shoulders! I said the summer had made me a little afraid of myself because I had a “problem” with a fellow student. He said when someone is lucky enough to date a girl as interesting as me it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t get physical! That was the right thing to say so I kissed him. He has just the littlest bit of halitosis. Too bad. He said even if I “threw him over” it would be worth it. Uh oh. We had a marvelous time riding the subways and train home. We called each other Thomas and Virginia, spoke French and pretended to be a married couple having a tiff. I accused him of being homosexual and he accused me of sleeping with everyone I met. It was very funny. We fought about the children – who would get them – each trying to unload them on the other. So fun! He met mother and made outstanding conversation. She was very impressed. What shame I don’t like him more but the spark is wavering. Kissed goodbye at the gate, then went upstairs to read the Romain Gary he gave me. He just loves Romain Gary. He phoned this eve from Wisconsin said he sent me three letters and two cards! Said he’s writing me a haiku! Finally saw Bryan Forbes’ superb The Whisperers. Had his wife & daughter in the cast! “Is there a part for me, darling?” “Well, as it happens…” Ideal family set up. Edith Evans very good. Strange letter from Shawn. He apologized for being “cynical and bitter”; then criticized Plumly’s “pettiness” and “superficial values”. Amen! I was getting all excited about having someone to talk to next year but he seems to think once you’re “close” you CAN’T date. Is this “stay away and just be my friend?” Confusing! I know I’m playing with fire dating Dan – he is bound to talk behind my back and mess me up with the senior boys. A problem when dating younger is considered déclassée. I want a boy who wants to date me, is self-confident, and isn’t afraid of me. Then maybe I can stop being afraid of myself. Watched The Prisoner – excellent Guinness performance. Winning at cards with Kent & Genevieve. 1:30 AM Sat 9 Sept 67 Yet another Night Flight. If due to some totally unforeseen occurrence your oxygen mask should deploy, grab your neighbor’s knee and breathe normally. Disgusting letter from Robin made me grit my teeth. “You know I love you & want the best for you Alysse.” I DON”T know that. When he’s trying to put on a big act he is EXCRUCIATING. Telling fake from real appears to be Life Job # 1 (think Hemingway said that.) Sent him a 4 p typed letter making it appear I am currently trying to decide between Dan & Shawn! Putting an end (I hope) to this misbegotten correspondence. I NEVER SAID ANYTHING THAT WASN’T THE TRUTH but I also didn’t expose my heart. It’s fun to pretend, isn’t it Robin? You’re pretending to be coy & manly & I am pretending to be a Wild Free Loner when I am just about to settle back in to Sensible Schoolgirl. Yecch. I think what I really wanted him to know was he didn’t MAKE ONE BIT OF DIFFERENCE to my life. Malicious, eh? Also, NOT the truth. Alas, I must confess. Well, we never pass up the chance to do a little acting, do we Robin? Went shopping Wed, bought 2 pairs earrings and a capacious suede bag. (Saleswoman did not know the meaning of “capacious.” She found out.) 2 pairs pattered stockings and a black tweed dress with huge white collar & cuffs! Big black patent leather belt. Pilgrim in a miniskirt! Perfect for Plumly! Also 1 pair John Romain shoes - $15. Now I’ve had it with shopping. I find I’m afraid to buy party clothes because it will look like I’m expecting to be asked to dances and I WON’T BE. Dan’s no use having graduated. Better keep my expectations low. Aynsley called from airport 5:45 – I rushed to meet her. She is SO THIN, so pretty, so blonde, had a good summer, her Southern accent so thick you have to guess at every other word. Good to see her again. Talked ourselves hoarse – looking forward to friends – NOT looking forward to Miss Wormrest. Looking forward to classes, NOT looking forward to Collection. Looking forward to Camp Suppers, NOT looking forward to Vespers. (Even though I can sit in senior balcony where we are encouraged to look down upon the heads of our inferiors.) Looking forward to senior coffee (anything beats the Spinal Drainings of a Dead Hippopotamus the underclassmen have to drink) & senior stairs – but checkout (gym) – NO. Mom & I took Aynsley to dinner at Inn of the Four Falls and saw the Fantasticks. Recognized one actress from the Plumly show. Seemed sappier somehow. Felt personally offended by Mom’s sneers about “romance”. How stupid children are and how they don’t know anything! And she’s supposed to be the ONLY happily married one of all my friends’ parents! Presents a grim future. Fri. AM wakened at 10:30 AM by Dan! I was a sour crab! Agreed to date Sun night to see Junior Wells at the Trauma. I invited him to dinner. Lunch at the art museum with Uncle David who took me out to lunch. He is very entertaining. UNLIKE Dan Devereux who is raining letters & double entendre cards on me. I don’t quite like it. This is the most difficult part of dating – you want to “make an impression” but it’s also a game of tennis: how am I going to return all these serves? Much easier to rush off the court and hide in the woods. Went to the dentist who made me cry. “Ooops, I hit a nerve.” I couldn’t stop crying from the sheer indignity of it! Maybe Novocain doesn’t work on me. Next time I’m getting gas. Face all swollen STILL as I sit here at the kitchen table with the house asleep. |
Alysse Aallyn
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