Midnight, Fri 13 Oct 67
If this is unreadable do not blame poor Little Me. Drank coffee till my hands jazzed. Tues. night was an all time depression low. From that point one can only rise. Reading Freud’s life by Ernest Jones has given me “neurasthenia”. Split completely into two personae, one speaking and one pretending to listen. Master Gwill took one of us aside (but which one?) and told us not to waste our talents and wither away. We looked at him owl-eyed. He told me to put on a “one woman show”. I don’t want to do THAT but it does suggest an Escape Route. Senior project at a Phila. Theatre would give me two weeks off! Must investigate. Strange letter from Dan including one ticket to The Homecoming! Hmm…if I went who would I meet there? I sent him a cold letter saying you broke up with ME and demanding the other ticket. Then called Mom all excited that I might be living at Pewter Hill during Senior Project I got a tart lecture about Changing My Ways and Not Roaming the Halls At Night. (But I’ll have my own floor!) Came a cropper with Aynsley too who wants to “clean together”. Ugh! It is bad enough doing it all without someone watching me! (We already have white glove inspections!) How will I make it to June? I was hoping to get TB but it looks like that’s not going to happen. Uh oh, burned my finger with an illegal candle and serve me right. Sun 15 Oct 67 Cured myself with a meal per to Philly where Casey and I saw Pinter’s magnificent Accident! Bogarde, Seyrig, York, Knox. What can I say! We were both overcome! Every scene was a mini-movie – the abandoned dining table. The broken car. Remaining in memory forever. Master Gwill brought me a pile of theatre books. Yay! Realized even though I am not happy there is no reason to be depressed. Dinner with Casey at the Nichols’ (pizza) where she is babysitting. 11:40 PM Weird phone calls from “IBM Computer Research.” Both Aynsley and I talked to them till we got angry. Fishy. Suspect Dan’s roommates. Mon. 16 Oct 67 3 gory chapters of Amos in Bible. Ripped up pregnant women, disturbed bones & general acts of O.T. vandalism. Feeling annoyed that this is presented to us as “philosophy”. Wrote my Bible paper on “Freedom & Discipline about psychoanalysis and submitted it with considerable relish. Ha! We’ll see what he has to say about that! Enjoying NY Times Book Review about Games People Play. Agreeing with Dr. Berne about behaviorism. Freud says “personal fulfillment” as a goal is naïve. Try to talk about theatre with Master Gwill. He is rather slick and shallow and trying to maneuver me into a “liberal arts college” because “it is a very good thing.” Feel I’m being “indulged” so I can be “managed.” But he has the good idea of starting a hobby called Actors Seminar. I promised him I’d join. Dan called me at lunch at his most pathetic. Promised to send the other ticket. Who would I go with? I said Casey, wouldn’t that be appropriate? His ex-girlfriends out for the evening together! He said only if we talk about him. I said that’s guaranteed. Hung up the phone to Dropped Jaws on Girls’ End. Am I a monster or a role model? Thoughts are divided – it is neck and neck with disapproval having a SLIGHT edge. Just the way I like it. Reed and I teamed up in English together. I continually underestimate that boy but I think he underestimates himself. I was so afraid he’d sneer at my poetic talents but he performed my dialog with respect (he has yet to write his own.) And it’s about him! Still, he refuses to join Actors Seminar. We tried walking out of class together but we were out of step. Invited him to tea with my parents Parents Day if his aren’t coming. He says, “I hate tea.” I said, “Now I remember.” He said, “You think it’s the cure for everything.” I said, “It is.” He said, “To each his own escape…” Uh oh. Is that a yes or no? A Good Acting Exercise for Actors Seminar would be… a) show you love someone without speaking or touching them. b) Same; someone you’re uncomfortable with Here’s my dialog: Girl: Persecuted recluse who likes to be nice to everyone in hopes of making friends. Plaintive. Boy: Young rebel caught up in the novelty of rebellion. Scene: The Varsity Hockey Field on Friday night. Girl’s attention drawn to Boy who is running around field whistling. G; Who’s that? B: What? G: Who are you, swooping around like that? B: It’s really fun. You should try it. G: Yes, but who are you? B: It’s only Clarence. G: Clarence do you feel all right? B: Yes. G: Then why are you swooping like that? B: Don’t call it swooping. Swooping is a coarse word. G: Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just the word that came to mind. B: If I don’t swoop it makes my head ache strangely. G: Maybe you should go to the infirmary. B: They can do nothing for me there. G: Oh well, then, I’ll leave you to you – B: Please don’t. Isn’t the moon wild tonight? G: You should see the lake! It looks like silver punch bowl of grape juice! And then when the moon went behind a cloud it looked like – I can’t remember what else it looked like. It was only seconds ago and yet I can’t remember. B: Maybe I should go look. G: No, it wouldn’t work. B: Why shouldn’t I look? I’ll go if you want. G: I’d rather swoop. (They swoop for a while.) G: I guess I just don’t have the technique. B: You look funny. G: Let’s go to the lake! B: No, it’s probably all gone by now. G: How could it be? B: Well, the part I didn’t tell you… G: Are you drunk? B: Have you ever seen a drunk person walk this straight? G: No. (They walk awhile.) G: I don’t feel right. It’s like we’re on different wavelengths. B: Or planets. G: You don’t seem all there. B: Is anybody all there? Don’t you find this place emotionally stifling? Every once in awhile you’ve just got to get away. G: I go for a lot of walks but I still feel chained down. B: Yeah, I know what you mean. G: I wish we could go to the top of the hill and just take off. B: Fly away! Yeah, yeah! G: I’m so glad you understand me. B: Isn’t it a groove? G: I’ve been looking all my life for someone to understand me. B: This is like The Early Show. I just want to have fun. I’m not one who wants to go around understanding people. This whole evening is starting to feel like a bad trip. I’ll take an 8x12 cell to a neurotic girl any day. (Girl bursts into tears.) END
0 Comments
Midnight, Fri 13 Oct 67
If this is unreadable do not blame poor Little Me. Drank coffee till my hands jazzed. Tues. night was an all time depression low. From that point one can only rise. Reading Freud’s life by Ernest Jones has given me “neurasthenia”. Split completely into two personae, one speaking and one pretending to listen. Master Gwill took one of us aside (but which one?) and told us not to waste our talents and wither away. We looked at him owl-eyed. He told me to put on a “one woman show”. I don’t want to do THAT but it does suggest an Escape Route. Senior project at a Phila. Theatre would give me two weeks off! Must investigate. Strange letter from Dan including one ticket to The Homecoming! Hmm…if I went who would I meet there? I sent him a cold letter saying you broke up with ME and demanding the other ticket. Then called Mom all excited that I might be living at Pewter Hill during Senior Project I got a tart lecture about Changing My Ways and Not Roaming the Halls At Night. (But I’ll have my own floor!) Came a cropper with Aynsley too who wants to “clean together”. Ugh! It is bad enough doing it all without someone watching me! (We already have white glove inspections!) How will I make it to June? I was hoping to get TB but it looks like that’s not going to happen. Uh oh, burned my finger with an illegal candle and serve me right. Sun 15 Oct 67 Cured myself with a meal per to Philly where Casey and I saw Pinter’s magnificent Accident! Bogarde, Seyrig, York, Knox. What can I say! We were both overcome! Every scene was a mini-movie – the abandoned dining table. The broken car. Remaining in memory forever. Master Gwill brought me a pile of theatre books. Yay! Realized even though I am not happy there is no reason to be depressed. Dinner with Casey at the Nichols’ (pizza) where she is babysitting. 11:40 PM Weird phone calls from “IBM Computer Research.” Both Aynsley and I talked to them till we got angry. Fishy. Suspect Dan’s roommates. Mon. 16 Oct 67 3 gory chapters of Amos in Bible. Ripped up pregnant women, disturbed bones & general acts of O.T. vandalism. Feeling annoyed that this is presented to us as “philosophy”. Wrote my Bible paper on “Freedom & Discipline about psychoanalysis and submitted it with considerable relish. Ha! We’ll see what he has to say about that! Enjoying NY Times Book Review about Games People Play. Agreeing with Dr. Berne about behaviorism. Freud says “personal fulfillment” as a goal is naïve. Try to talk about theatre with Master Gwill. He is rather slick and shallow and trying to maneuver me into a “liberal arts college” because “it is a very good thing.” Feel I’m being “indulged” so I can be “managed.” But he has the good idea of starting a hobby called Actors Seminar. I promised him I’d join. Dan called me at lunch at his most pathetic. Promised to send the other ticket. Who would I go with? I said Casey, wouldn’t that be appropriate? His ex-girlfriends out for the evening together! He said only if we talk about him. I said that’s guaranteed. Hung up the phone to Dropped Jaws on Girls’ End. Am I a monster or a role model? Thoughts are divided – it is neck and neck with disapproval having a SLIGHT edge. Just the way I like it. Reed and I teamed up in English together. I continually underestimate that boy but I think he underestimates himself. I was so afraid he’d sneer at my poetic talents but he performed my dialog with respect (he has yet to write his own.) And it’s about him! Still, he refuses to join Actors Seminar. We tried walking out of class together but we were out of step. Invited him to tea with my parents Parents Day if his aren’t coming. He says, “I hate tea.” I said, “Now I remember.” He said, “You think it’s the cure for everything.” I said, “It is.” He said, “To each his own escape…” Uh oh. Is that a yes or no? A Good Acting Exercise for Actors Seminar would be… a) show you love someone without speaking or touching them. b) Same; someone you’re uncomfortable with Here’s my dialog: Girl: Persecuted recluse who likes to be nice to everyone in hopes of making friends. Plaintive. Boy: Young rebel caught up in the novelty of rebellion. Scene: The Varsity Hockey Field on Friday night. Girl’s attention drawn to Boy who is running around field whistling. G; Who’s that? B: What? G: Who are you, swooping around like that? B: It’s really fun. You should try it. G: Yes, but who are you? B: It’s only Clarence. G: Clarence do you feel all right? B: Yes. G: Then why are you swooping like that? B: Don’t call it swooping. Swooping is a coarse word. G: Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just the word that came to mind. B: If I don’t swoop it makes my head ache strangely. G: Maybe you should go to the infirmary. B: They can do nothing for me there. G: Oh well, then, I’ll leave you to you – B: Please don’t. Isn’t the moon wild tonight? G: You should see the lake! It looks like silver punch bowl of grape juice! And then when the moon went behind a cloud it looked like – I can’t remember what else it looked like. It was only seconds ago and yet I can’t remember. B: Maybe I should go look. G: No, it wouldn’t work. B: Why shouldn’t I look? I’ll go if you want. G: I’d rather swoop. (They swoop for a while.) G: I guess I just don’t have the technique. B: You look funny. G: Let’s go to the lake! B: No, it’s probably all gone by now. G: How could it be? B: Well, the part I didn’t tell you… G: Are you drunk? B: Have you ever seen a drunk person walk this straight? G: No. (They walk awhile.) G: I don’t feel right. It’s like we’re on different wavelengths. B: Or planets. G: You don’t seem all there. B: Is anybody all there? Don’t you find this place emotionally stifling? Every once in awhile you’ve just got to get away. G: I go for a lot of walks but I still feel chained down. B: Yeah, I know what you mean. G: I wish we could go to the top of the hill and just take off. B: Fly away! Yeah, yeah! G: I’m so glad you understand me. B: Isn’t it a groove? G: I’ve been looking all my life for someone to understand me. B: This is like The Early Show. I just want to have fun. I’m not one who wants to go around understanding people. This whole evening is starting to feel like a bad trip. I’ll take an 8x12 cell to a neurotic girl any day. (Girl bursts into tears.) END 11:25 PM Wed 4 Oct 67
Lonely. It’s feast or famine around here and what food there is, is none too good. Waves of contempt from Shawn & Reed whenever I run into them. But Ted, Kip and new student from Kenya Bob Burke being very nice to me. Aynsley HATES when I keep the lights on (and candles are illegal) so I’m under the covers with a flashlight again. I die for sleep all day then when night comes I could not be more awake. In two months I will be 18 – an adult. Called Mom last night (because I can’t call Dan) and said Cheer me up. (Dan called Casey to tell her to tell me not to call him any more! How you can misjudge people!) Mom didn’t do a very good job (she wants to hear my “plans”) but I was able to disguise my tears. I seem to have reached a jumping off place in my life. One shouldn’t have to apologize for change as if it was a weakness. Casey and I in detention together because we went for a walk bra-less to the lake! How we wanted to penetrate that smooth dark mirror! So wed did…after a few moments in became quite warm. Then we lay on the dock with our soaking hair. Even shivers were welcome! When I got back a KOB from Simon Matthews asking me to Fall Dance. It’s imperative that I accept or I’m sunk around here. He’s in the Kobler-Hambro clique! So at least he has the ability to think for himself. He seems nice enough but I wish I could do the choosing. I wonder I it’s because I nominated him to be School Day Art Teacher (he’s good at art.) He got it too. Got a letter from Dan saying the exact reverse of what he said in his phone call to Casey – that he is getting tickets to The Homecoming (Pinter) because he knows I want to see it so much! So I don’t know what to do. I DO want to see it so much! “Je suis allé au marché aux a la feraille Et j’ai acheté des chaînes, les chaînes pour toi…” A weird sick letter from Robin! Says he will write again when he gets out of the Navy! Oh, please spare me his militarized self! Feel like maybe now I could sing myself to sleep… “I’m fixing a hole where the rain gets in and keeps my mind from wandering…where it will go…” with my luck if I fall asleep there will be a fire drill. Friday 6 Oct 67 My personal feeling about novels, poems & plays is you get out of them who you are. They are mirrors. Alas at this institution Art is seized as a Chance to Indoctrinate the Faithless in Someone Else’s Opinion. Which if you don’t regurgitate on test you get a “Z” and are sent to: “The Principal for Punishment. The Whole Class Will Remain Three Hours After School…Silence!” (Miss Goggins.) I guess Kafka (who lived at HOME and worked in insurance) knew what he was talking about. Mon 9 Oct 67 It’s really true that nothing matters…in coconut grove.” Any coconut groves left in this weary world? My usual answer to depression is to plunge myself into reading – psychoanalysis this time – Jung & Freud. Much more satisfying than poor Swinburne with his roster of pain& struggle. Novel I’m currently writing, To Die at Noone currently retitled As I Weave My Winding Sheet. Tues. 10 Oct 67 I am going insane but I still don’t know whether I’m doing it on purpose or not. The thing I hate about insanity is its implication of weakness. Maybe it’s just my plan to get out of this place and be allowed to go home. I must be strong. I wouldn’t submit myself to Freud – I can’t imagine sharing the planet with any being who really knew me. Poor foolish girl with delusions of grandeur… Depression can be so subtle you don’t know it’s over until it’s gone. Currently lying in bed allowing its waves to wash over me. Every one of my nerves has a thousand split ends. Someone dropped books in the hall in front of me and I just stood there and screamed. Wept in the most degrading fashion in front of an ever-enlarging series of sympathetic fossils. Pre-menstrual distress was decided upon. Miss Beeston offered sleeping pills!!! Didn’t accept – who knows what she would do to me once I was in a helpless condition. She’s the one rumored to have murdered her lover with a javelin during the 1936 Olympics. Miss Cluny offered psychiatric help (also refused.) Master Gwill did one good and one bad thing today. He gave me a B+ on a paper I personally thought was trashy (Bad) and told me my writing showed “maturity”. Good. There’s a new one.) As I Weave getting increasingly amaranthine soon to break down utterly. Alas. Simply don’t know how to manage transitions. Yet. Still hoping to date (I never learn.) Don’t want to be alone forever. Aynsley and I not getting along very well – she’s going through a bad period too. It’s Quits Again with Mr. Handsome. Plus she finds my insomnia very hard to handle (I don’t like it either.) Climbed a tree the night of the Fall Dance (I had to get away from Simon somehow) and fell in love with a voice I heard up there. Don’t know who it was. I was very nice at the dance. (I even danced with Scooter Obie!) Mon 25 Sept 67
Feeling constricted by my Insane Relationship with Dan. Couldn’t I choose a guy who gradated from a DIFFERENT prep school? This one knows everything about Him and me and seemingly by osmosis, Us. No, it isn’t very pretty what a town without pity etc. Freedom and pride, the two main things I’ve always worked for, seem completely absent. No pleasure either. This relationship can’t work because neither of us is willing to be the other’s “love toy.” I shouldn’t have told him I love him, it would have been truer to say I need him. Or would that be worse? I’d wish I had Casey’s amorality but I don’t want her memories. They torment her. Dan and I lay in the grass yesterday and I had to admit I didn’t want him. I didn’t WANT his body covering mine – I wanted to be alone in my bed reading the NY Times! I said, “Sorry, maybe I’m frigid.” Maybe I really am! (Definitely with him.) He said he felt like he’d been kicked in the crotch, lit a cigarette and tried to think. He wanted me to try anyway but No. I have to feel it. C’est moi, c’est tout. The truth is we aren’t as comfortable in each other’s presence as we are on the phone. It’s getting creepy now, him hanging around his alma mater. After lunch he talked to Casey half an hour but told me later, “Nothing is solved.” He said he’s been too abrupt, he needs to forget his own pain and he would wait for me “forever and ever.” This is NOT what I wanted to hear. I said, “I don’t think we’re right for each other” which was not what HE wanted to hear. Impasse. When he left he said whatever makes me happy makes him happy. Here’s the problem with that: I’m not happy. Vespers calculated to “lift me higher” – moody Germanic music. Reed came onstage with his usual purposeful lope. Spoke well – I was surprised. Must have forsworn the Evil Weed. Spoke about the ARTIFICIALITY of the PLUMLY DATING SCENE. He is very dismissive of artificial markers. KOBS are just “pieces of paper.” A grade is just a “piece of paper”. A driver’s license is just a “piece of paper”. A marriage license is…you guessed it. This does not cut much ice with Me, the Archivist! I whirl in paper most days like a gerbil in a nest and I like it that way. I think paper is REALER THAN WE ARE. (Because it outlives us.) So there. Dan called Mon, pulling me out of lunch. He always calls at meals, presumably to starve me into thinness. It won’t work – I can eat through nausea, interruptions, anything. I have a hoard of revolting “emergency” sugar cookies in a lockbox beneath my bed. I told him to call me at nine. He called me at nine. He just wants to be my friend and love me from a distance and give me things. I should NEVER have told him I loved him but I was wild for affection. Now our relationship is absolutely ruined. I made him promise to stop saying he loves me and stop saying I’m beautiful. Not how friends talk. He agreed! Wow! He really must love me. There is no kindness greater than the kindness of someone who eases your fear. Sun 1 Oct 67 Revolution in the soul. The hurt we inflict on others is our own hurt, caused by our chains. Girls have been taught to make themselves as attractive as a dinner or a piece of jewelry and the number of broken men grasping after them is a mark of success. I can no longer look at fashion magazines. Glamour sickens me. Our souls are in rags. Feeling horribly guilty about Dan but I can’t imagine how to fix it. Angry that a perfectly healthy seventeen year old girl has to torment herself with the demon of frigidity just to make him feel better. (All the guys say I’m “cold’.) Poor Genevieve! Mom gave me her ruthless scorching letter in which she accused Mom & Dad of being “schizophrenic”. (She’s studying it at school.) I agreed with Mom that a daughter shouldn’t talk to her mother that way (it sounded like she was writing a paper) on the other hand Mom shouldn’t be showing it to ME! And they do want two PERFECTLY IMPOSSIBLE things from us. For instance I can’t get over the notion that Mom wants me to fail to prove herself right. (She says I go about everything the exactly wrong way. But if you want to run your own life what other way is there? Her argument seems to be shut down your brain and let others take over! Dan and I were in the train station Sat night surrounded by other couples. I felt you could judge the “success” of each of their dates simply by looking at them. Variations on hope & distance – trying to “feel together”. Bloody hard. Feel I’ll never have “a date” again. My mind will be rushing to “the ending”. How can I flirt and show myself off? I will be like a crone from a Depression era play moaning, Doom, doom! I don’t want reality any more! Reed in the infirmary. When I went down to have my TB shot checked I asked if I could say “hi” the nurse agreed but said darkly, “Be quick about it. And no carrying on!” She then said he NEEDS a visitor because he keeps his eyes shut and his lights off. I knocked on his door in case he was sleeping and he said, “Yes”. He has such a nice voice. “May I come in?” Didn’t identify myself. He looked so young and pathetic with his hair messed up wearing a hospital gown. I sat down on the other bed so nervous I was speechless. Kept remembering that horrible scene win the library with Shawn which answers the question YES you CAN make things worse! I ran my fingers over his guitar wishing I had the nerve to ask him to play. Asked if he was getting poetry out of this experience, he said he hadn’t thought about it. He was very polite – I was relieved – Shawn is a skilled cross-examiner and Reed is not. He is more natural. I said we were all worried about him. He thanked me for coming. I left feeling confident that he is not my enemy. Shawn on the other hand… Had to wait a whole hour for Dan at the 69th st. station but I had a book. Then we immediately went shopping. It is sad, I feel no desire for him at all. Where did it go? We both want to know. He bought champagne and cognac so he can make French 75s back at Villanova. Then said he wanted to go to the book dept where he was embarrassed to have me see him buying a book Mixing Drinks. He is shamed by not knowing everything! I say we don’t have to bother memorizing things if we have enough books! Arrived at the Penn St house 4 pm, Mom forgot to leave a key but the landlady was in. I made us bacon & eggs and tea with oranges, then left him downstairs with a magazine while I took a long, glorious bath. DID NOT WANT TO GET OUT OF THAT BATHTUB. Dressed in my “Thanksgiving dress” might as well – he might not get another chance to see it. Called Aynsley to see if my shike had gone as planned – she signed me in & out without a hitch. (She spent the whole day shiking in Media!) Dan and I took the train into Philly and saw Privilege. I love cinema verité! The principal actors were not extraordinary but the supporting cast was outstanding! “Britain in the Near Future” only 5 yrs from now! Not just possible but realistic. After the movie, dancing at the Trauma. Dan was so depressed I am starting to get irritated with him. People were packed in tight to hear the Youngbloods but Mandrake Memorial played first. I remembered them from Junior Wells days! They weren’t as bad as I recalled. Jesse Colin Young is electrifying! He has such a mellow, sleepy, hypnotic voice. I fell in love with him right there (I’m afraid Dan could tell.) “I hope he won’t look at you twice” he said nervously. (We were right up front.) They are as good as the Blues Project. But there were really too many people and we had to leave. I was getting claustrophobia from having Dan’s hands all over me. On the way home we talked it out well. Somehow I dredged up the courage to tell him I’m just not ready in my life. I didn’t say something about his life is putting me off because what good would that do? But he insisted on spending the night with me in the other twin bed. Very chaste! He still wanted to talk but I drank a glass of water and fell asleep immediately. The alarm woke us at 4:30. I pretended to be asleep in the subway so I wouldn’t have to make conversation. He liked having my head on his shoulder. At 69th street he didn’t expect me to kiss him so just a hurried goodbye. Brrr! Walking from Milltown to Plumly at 7:15 AM on a Sunday morning is a glorious experience! Birds singing, etc. I was on time for chapel. Noticed Reed was out of the infirmary. I gave a reading saying it is not the POINT that matters but the pursuit of the point while Miss Beeston nodded her head uncontrollably (she “agrees” with everything now.) Down to the Crypt to pick up my NY Times. Then slept the light week of the wicked. “We are but a moment’s sunlight, fading on the grass…” Mon 25 Sept 67
Feeling constricted by my Insane Relationship with Dan. Couldn’t I choose a guy who gradated from a DIFFERENT prep school? This one knows everything about Him and me and seemingly by osmosis, Us. No, it isn’t very pretty what a town without pity etc. Freedom and pride, the two main things I’ve always worked for, seem completely absent. No pleasure either. This relationship can’t work because neither of us is willing to be the other’s “love toy.” I shouldn’t have told him I love him, it would have been truer to say I need him. Or would that be worse? I’d wish I had Casey’s amorality but I don’t want her memories. They torment her. Dan and I lay in the grass yesterday and I had to admit I didn’t want him. I didn’t WANT his body covering mine – I wanted to be alone in my bed reading the NY Times! I said, “Sorry, maybe I’m frigid.” Maybe I really am! (Definitely with him.) He said he felt like he’d been kicked in the crotch, lit a cigarette and tried to think. He wanted me to try anyway but No. I have to feel it. C’est moi, c’est tout. The truth is we aren’t as comfortable in each other’s presence as we are on the phone. It’s getting creepy now, him hanging around his alma mater. After lunch he talked to Casey half an hour but told me later, “Nothing is solved.” He said he’s been too abrupt, he needs to forget his own pain and he would wait for me “forever and ever.” This is NOT what I wanted to hear. I said, “I don’t think we’re right for each other” which was not what HE wanted to hear. Impasse. When he left he said whatever makes me happy makes him happy. Here’s the problem with that: I’m not happy. Vespers calculated to “lift me higher” – moody Germanic music. Reed came onstage with his usual purposeful lope. Spoke well – I was surprised. Must have forsworn the Evil Weed. Spoke about the ARTIFICIALITY of the PLUMLY DATING SCENE. He is very dismissive of artificial markers. KOBS are just “pieces of paper.” A grade is just a “piece of paper”. A driver’s license is just a “piece of paper”. A marriage license is…you guessed it. This does not cut much ice with Me, the Archivist! I whirl in paper most days like a gerbil in a nest and I like it that way. I think paper is REALER THAN WE ARE. (Because it outlives us.) So there. Dan called Mon, pulling me out of lunch. He always calls at meals, presumably to starve me into thinness. It won’t work – I can eat through nausea, interruptions, anything. I have a hoard of revolting “emergency” sugar cookies in a lockbox beneath my bed. I told him to call me at nine. He called me at nine. He just wants to be my friend and love me from a distance and give me things. I should NEVER have told him I loved him but I was wild for affection. Now our relationship is absolutely ruined. I made him promise to stop saying he loves me and stop saying I’m beautiful. Not how friends talk. He agreed! Wow! He really must love me. There is no kindness greater than the kindness of someone who eases your fear. Sun 1 Oct 67 Revolution in the soul. The hurt we inflict on others is our own hurt, caused by our chains. Girls have been taught to make themselves as attractive as a dinner or a piece of jewelry and the number of broken men grasping after them is a mark of success. I can no longer look at fashion magazines. Glamour sickens me. Our souls are in rags. Feeling horribly guilty about Dan but I can’t imagine how to fix it. Angry that a perfectly healthy seventeen year old girl has to torment herself with the demon of frigidity just to make him feel better. (All the guys say I’m “cold’.) Poor Genevieve! Mom gave me her ruthless scorching letter in which she accused Mom & Dad of being “schizophrenic”. (She’s studying it at school.) I agreed with Mom that a daughter shouldn’t talk to her mother that way (it sounded like she was writing a paper) on the other hand Mom shouldn’t be showing it to ME! And they do want two PERFECTLY IMPOSSIBLE things from us. For instance I can’t get over the notion that Mom wants me to fail to prove herself right. (She says I go about everything the exactly wrong way. But if you want to run your own life what other way is there? Her argument seems to be shut down your brain and let others take over! Dan and I were in the train station Sat night surrounded by other couples. I felt you could judge the “success” of each of their dates simply by looking at them. Variations on hope & distance – trying to “feel together”. Bloody hard. Feel I’ll never have “a date” again. My mind will be rushing to “the ending”. How can I flirt and show myself off? I will be like a crone from a Depression era play moaning, Doom, doom! I don’t want reality any more! Reed in the infirmary. When I went down to have my TB shot checked I asked if I could say “hi” the nurse agreed but said darkly, “Be quick about it. And no carrying on!” She then said he NEEDS a visitor because he keeps his eyes shut and his lights off. I knocked on his door in case he was sleeping and he said, “Yes”. He has such a nice voice. “May I come in?” Didn’t identify myself. He looked so young and pathetic with his hair messed up wearing a hospital gown. I sat down on the other bed so nervous I was speechless. Kept remembering that horrible scene win the library with Shawn which answers the question YES you CAN make things worse! I ran my fingers over his guitar wishing I had the nerve to ask him to play. Asked if he was getting poetry out of this experience, he said he hadn’t thought about it. He was very polite – I was relieved – Shawn is a skilled cross-examiner and Reed is not. He is more natural. I said we were all worried about him. He thanked me for coming. I left feeling confident that he is not my enemy. Shawn on the other hand… Had to wait a whole hour for Dan at the 69th st. station but I had a book. Then we immediately went shopping. It is sad, I feel no desire for him at all. Where did it go? We both want to know. He bought champagne and cognac so he can make French 75s back at Villanova. Then said he wanted to go to the book dept where he was embarrassed to have me see him buying a book Mixing Drinks. He is shamed by not knowing everything! I say we don’t have to bother memorizing things if we have enough books! Arrived at the Penn St house 4 pm, Mom forgot to leave a key but the landlady was in. I made us bacon & eggs and tea with oranges, then left him downstairs with a magazine while I took a long, glorious bath. DID NOT WANT TO GET OUT OF THAT BATHTUB. Dressed in my “Thanksgiving dress” might as well – he might not get another chance to see it. Called Aynsley to see if my shike had gone as planned – she signed me in & out without a hitch. (She spent the whole day shiking in Media!) Dan and I took the train into Philly and saw Privilege. I love cinema verité! The principal actors were not extraordinary but the supporting cast was outstanding! “Britain in the Near Future” only 5 yrs from now! Not just possible but realistic. After the movie, dancing at the Trauma. Dan was so depressed I am starting to get irritated with him. People were packed in tight to hear the Youngbloods but Mandrake Memorial played first. I remembered them from Junior Wells days! They weren’t as bad as I recalled. Jesse Colin Young is electrifying! He has such a mellow, sleepy, hypnotic voice. I fell in love with him right there (I’m afraid Dan could tell.) “I hope he won’t look at you twice” he said nervously. (We were right up front.) They are as good as the Blues Project. But there were really too many people and we had to leave. I was getting claustrophobia from having Dan’s hands all over me. On the way home we talked it out well. Somehow I dredged up the courage to tell him I’m just not ready in my life. I didn’t say something about his life is putting me off because what good would that do? But he insisted on spending the night with me in the other twin bed. Very chaste! He still wanted to talk but I drank a glass of water and fell asleep immediately. The alarm woke us at 4:30. I pretended to be asleep in the subway so I wouldn’t have to make conversation. He liked having my head on his shoulder. At 69th street he didn’t expect me to kiss him so just a hurried goodbye. Brrr! Walking from Milltown to Plumly at 7:15 AM on a Sunday morning is a glorious experience! Birds singing, etc. I was on time for chapel. Noticed Reed was out of the infirmary. I gave a reading saying it is not the POINT that matters but the pursuit of the point while Miss Beeston nodded her head uncontrollably (she “agrees” with everything now.) Down to the Crypt to pick up my NY Times. Then slept the light week of the wicked. “We are but a moment’s sunlight, fading on the grass…” Fri 23 Sept 67
Dan asked me to sleep with him! He says he has a doctor who will “work” with me. Uh oh. You know I don’t like mixing work & play! Plus I’m scared of pills – read a hideous article in the Ladies Home Journal. On the other hand Liesl Cahill has taken them for her skin for two years and they work great. She always remembers. (She hasn’t had sex though.) I told him so far I like the idea of foam. Supposedly 100% effective if you use it every time! Dan said it would be like “screwing a cream puff.” Is that so bad? I could do worse than Dan and I know it. He is gentle, he has experience, he is insanely in love with me. Unfortunately the whole Casey thing still bothers me. And I wouldn’t be able to date here. I’d be “taken”. And we wouldn’t even be seeing each other all that much! There’s just an aura of doom hovering over the whole thing. Frankly I was hoping for something different. I don’t like the thought of being punctured like a beer can. I’m so afraid I will “belong” to him I some irritatingly final way. We talked to one am and he asked what I was wearing. Blue and white striped nightshirt, pieds nu - and you? Only a pair of levis. Aaahh…bare chested. (He has a very nice chest.) God men’s chests are beautiful. When I am not around him though I feel shivers of ice cold doubt. Is it because I’m afraid he could “get” to me? That I couldn’t stay free? Don’t know. Dithering. I am afraid of revealing myself. I find myself very unwilling to go to his college. Now why’s that? I don’t want to experience it as “a girlfriend”. What if I am attracted by his roommates? (I can hear them laughing in the background when he’s on the phone.) Senior Pictures – attempting to maintain a Spiritual Expression forty-five seconds at a time is foul. Senior Class Party a cattle market. Wore the gold wool dress that matches my hair. We inspect each other for weapons & wounds. Reed asked me to dance! I said sure! He danced poorly but with great concentration. I kept up a smile rictus the whole time but we were both glad it was over. Whew! Danced with Ed, Chip and the rosy-cheeked English exchange student Rob Severn who said he DISLIKED the Doors! Who could dislike Light My Fire? It’s like hating Shakespeare – our Shakespeare. Danced with Reed one more time which I thought was unbelievably brave (he must be high.) He clearly hated the whole thing. He and Marnie cast weird looks at each other like they’d cooked something up together but maybe I’m hypersensitive. I hope he thinks of the good times we had. Casey cornered me on the Senior Stairs demanding to now how far Dan and I have gone. NOWHERE I said. (Didn’t mention his offer.) She tried to get me angry but I was humble. She doesn’t want to hurt me she only wants to hurt herself and I can sympathize. We were interrupted by a cry of Phone Call! She said, “It’s probably for you. It’s probably Dan.” It was for me. It was Dan. He asked if he’d “pulled me out of a party” (very cute when he’s jealous) I said I was talking to Casey. He said, “Christ!” I’d just seen Dial M for Murder the 2nd time – such a lovely movie! How I love the glitter in Ray Milland’s eyes, the velvet in his voice! Talked to Dan about it. I think Hitchcock’s my favorite. Don’t like Psycho that much but Vertigo and Rear Window are fabulous. He was depressed again. Cheered him up by singing “Willst du mit mir schlaffen, schlaffen” to the music of Jacob’s Ladder. (But my German is bad so then I have to sing, “Soldiers of the Lord.”) He laughed. He said one nice thing. His roommates asked what I was like and he said, “Very, very, beautiful. Aaahh… Way to a girl’s heart. I told him I would probably sleep with him “eventually”. It gave me such pleasure to say it. We can’t do it tomorrow or in NY so I have plenty of time to chicken out. 1:00 AM I hug myself as I prowl the cold dark halls. Took two Copes but I don’t think they do anything. Aynsley’s bed is realistically stuffed with an Alibi since she has to be in McKenzie’s room or McKenzie would be alone. Blew through Norah Lofts’ The Concubine. I understand Anne so well – scheme and work for something for years, then undo it in a moment. If I walk enough, I can sleep. |
Alysse Aallyn
Archives
September 2022
Categories |