2;30 PM Mon 22 Aug 77
Can’t write, so ready to return to Maine. So desperate I watched TV (Rhoda: Apotheosis of the Career Girl). Feeling crushed about Secaire and Demon is not far behind. When your mind is divided its hard to go on. I always feel genre works actually have the potential for highest dramatic quality – mystery, discovery, transformation, revelation – telling the complete truth about everything but I just don’t know how to convey that. Also I’m kind of worried that Devon will see my departure as “because” we punctured the fantasy with honesty ; ie I’m “punishing” him (that’s what Ryder would think, plus he would howl “I deserve it” then behave even worse) and of course it sort of is true . “New data” does affect everything. But I miss the dogs & worry about them. Dad has yet to figure out their sex (calls them both “boy”). Went clothes shopping got GOREGOUS skinny jeans! Look so good. Called D about but had to leave an awkward message with Random Guy (ugh I hate that.) Thank God for diaries! Best therapy possible. So much cheaper than a shrink. Diagnosis? Sheer greed. I always want everything. 9:45 AM Wed 24 Aug 77 Great conversation with D. He feels exactly the same way I do (kind of unsettling) wants to continue with me but doesn’t want anyone to find out about me, etc. I.e. ambivalent. We just want everything we can get as pleasantly as possible. Said he’d take me to the airport Fri – I asked if it was possible he could spend Thu night – he said he’s make it possible. Should be ecstasy. I’m very up for it. Tonight call M & D ugh. They always try to make me feel like a flake. I say it’s like sailing – since you don’t know what the waves or weather are going to be like its only sensible to make adjustments accordingly. (My father taught me that.) Pack and clean. Yuck. 7:20 PM Dull evening. Ceaseless rain & cream of wheat for dinner. On the other hand feel great – happy and serene. Have to note that so this book is NOT a constant wail of desperation & entitlement. Gross reading about Leopold & Loeb case. 2:30 PM Dunkin Donuts Eelsboro, Maine Fri. 26 Aug 77 Here I am again: have I changed? I like myself better, I think I can say that. Thurs night was a big success. Devon came in with an IMMENSE bottle of white wine – he either needs it for himself or he’s trying to turn me into an alcoholic (with my full cooperation.) The clam and noodle thing I invented was quite good but he wasn’t ready to eat till nine and we didn’t get to bed till midnight where he revealed a sexually savage side to his nature that has been previously unseen. So maybe he was nerving himself. (Of course I loved it). We finished the housecleaning and were off to the airport by 11. Fairly silent in the car, though he was tender. When I mentioned he might come down to DC he said he didn’t think there was much of a possibility – so now I’m worrying that I’ve been pushed onto Bad Girl Island while he pines for Pure Young Innocent Eng girl with who he would NEVER do those enjoyably awful things. (She’s 21!!!! He knew her 24 hrs!!!) I shouldn’t be silly. I really can’t ever “lose” him. I think he loves me and everything else is just scar tissue. Devastating airport goodbye – he asked me to “write soon”. I’m probably lucky he loves me as much as he does. I was looking damn good if I do so say so myself in backless red halter top and tight, tight jeans. I do want him to remember me as beautiful. 11:30 AM Sat 27 Aug 77 M & D are on Ryder’s side!!! And they HATE him! In other words, they will line up with anybody rather than me. They say of course R “behaves badly” if I am having an “affair” (don’t you love the archaic term?) with Devon! I say he doesn’t even know about Devon, plus we weren’t exclusive BY HIS CHOICE plus we were BROKEN UP. All still seems to be my fault. Incredibly, they think I am not SUFFERING ENOUGH. Here are people who have lectured me all my life to find any excuse for other people’s bad behavior – life has surely injured them in some way. They didn’t have Advantages! Apparently I am the only human being alive who doesn’t get an excuse – I should just “be different”. How, asks mom, can I meet “suitable young men” while dancing? Suitable young men! (They like Marc Kramer who’s a complete horndog and a political troglodyte. But at least he can afford me!) Am I living in a Trollope novel? I am so annoyed I don’t want to accept their hospitality but I really don’t want to rent a room in the House of the Damned aka Burnside Inn. which doesn’t take dogs – who wept to see me again like children – then immediately got over it. Dad’s a very restless retiree I must say but don’t ask me what to advise. I’m too ignorant. My advice to everyone is “write”; like naturalists say “Be alone in nature” and religious people say “Find God.” Reading Vol I. V. Woolf’s diary (so different from A Writer’s Diary) and hitting the gin. Mom thinks I’m taking “bad” advice from messed up writers – “modeling” myself on failures and suicides – (Dad calls them “degenerates”) – because it’s “cool”. That’s why I need the gin. I need the gin the first minute I wake up. Must try not to be such a limp limpet. Told Mom if R calls at night not to come get me.
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3:30 PM 11 Aug 77 - Thurs
Depressing letter from Chloe – she wants my help with her MSS. I agree with Henry James – all I can do is My Thing My Way. But I have to seem really approachable if I want radio work. Conundrum. Catatonia. Devon called. Do I want to get laid? I think so! Sat. 13 Aug 77 7 good pages writing, then bad letter from R. asking is our “living together” a ”condition” of “my return”? Where the hell did he get that? He just wants something to react against. He can’t imagine a relationship that isn’t controlled by implied threats. He believes in working and suffering so much then – let him work and suffer. What would annoy him most? If I don’t respond! Ha ha! Let the panic begin! Need to become more private – simply to protect myself. For all I know he’s relishing the torture he goes through. Devon and I had a glorious date – splendid dinner (steak!) then made love all over the floor. He played with my body until he got it roaring and pulsating like an express train. The way he handled me, gripped me, held me, crushed me even – made me ask about his other girlfriends. He said no, he never gets as much “touch” as he wants. I said, “Except with me”. He said, “Except with you.” Over dinner he said matter-of-factly that we are so alike loving me has always felt “narcissistic” to him. I bet! Happy, happy, happy… Picked up The Edwardians but I can’t get into it. Keep seeing Devon’s body plying me, bending me…I know somewhere out there lies perfect happiness, waiting to mug me. 2PM Sun 14 Aug 77 Sitting on the deck even though it’s just about to rain, back from long bike ride watching family barbecues. Will I ever have children? I feel so exactly balanced between R and D like a ball in the air – but could fall at any moment. Finished The Edwardians – made me long to read Trollope. Vita Sackville-West’s work is like a death wish. Maybe Pevensey Library can rise to some Trollope. Downy woodpecker 2 ft away. Finished The Dark Island! An outrageous howl of self-pity! Mom & Dad called all worried about Avril. She & Mason had to borrow money after selling $4500 worth of stock in June! Dad wants to deal financially with Mason instead of his own daughter! I was cool and stayed out of it. I don’t even want to imagine what they say to the others about me. I sent A a letter that said I would buy her a round trip plane ticket any time she wanted – even for just a short visit. Talk about work and suffering! I’m sure she feels stuck in every way with this guy. Down to a dinner of bouillon & smoked oysters. Tues 16 Aug 77 D’s & my relationship “plateaus.” Each of us may have given all we can spare. At least there’s no Mutual Punishment. Woman tried to get me into conversation at mailboxes – she’s an accountant whose boyfriend works on missiles. God they both sounded like the dullest people imaginable. Tried not to blanche. 6:00 PM Couldn’t resist $10 phone call to Avril. She’s hanging in there but doesn’t like Calif so far. She’s not going to school because Mason thinks he ought to be able to pay for it! So, so sick after using her money to live on. She’s looking for some clerk job. Still thinks this guy might be The One, even though sex is once a week and she’s not satisfied. After that I called Devon who should be back from psychomotor class but he wasn’t in. Midnight – Could get psychotic about D not returning my call – however I refuse. Let the poor man live. He lacks time for an ACTUAL other girl (although I know there are plenty of letters & phone calls with girls he cultivates.) 10AM – Wed 17 Aug 77 Devon woke me up in the middle of the night, wondering if I was “psychic”. He’d had a horrible day – had to take a “pregnant friend” to the clinic for abortion (not his kid.) This is a new one. Can’t imagine him lying about something so bizarre – I didn’t ask for details – just told him I had a “sudden impulse” (true). Called the bank – my money was in but only $987 (it’s never as much as you expect.) From shit comes flowers, as they say. Called Marc Kramer and left message whether I can hitch a ride to Maine with him (he goes almost every weekend). Finished Life of Waugh. Cramps. Sat 20 Aug 77 Poor Devon! He brought pizza and a very good brandy (too good – drinking it woke me up in the middle of the night) suggested a movie. I said I wanted to Talk. Told him all about my week; everything, novel, phone call with Avril, breaking up (mentally) with R because I “realized there’s another way”. Felt it was time to share. He asked if it had anything to do with him I said it did but he shouldn’t panic – it’s a good thing. He asked did I want to know about other girls? I said yes. Would I be jealous? Maybe – but it wouldn’t impact on him. He talked about his friend who had the abortion – she’s ready to take him on but his feelings for her are “clinical”. (Uh oh. She’s in trouble. He could be lying to me about Who’s the Daddy or lying to himself, most like.) She’s 2 yrs older than him. Then there’s a girl he met on the train – they’re just friends so far so he doesn’t know her well – but he’s curious. Then there’s the English girl – he definitely wants to bring her over but neither of them can afford it so far. He seems to have a sex/romance dichotomy going so I’m not jealous exactly – it would be like being jealous of someone’s fantasies. However it doesn’t make me respect him more. And he instinctively knows that – he can’t be the daring demon lover or swaggering ski coach with me when I know too much about him. Fortunately I suggested we bring the mattress up to the deck – we had a big, hilarious struggle through the house but it was worth it. Wonderful making love in the fresh night. He can’t believe girls like giving blow jobs – I said, do you mean you don’t like going down on me? He said, no, no, no I LOVE it you are like a flower. I said see? Depends on the person. Gave him the full treatment making him yelp like a coyote. Cold in the AM like Maine – hard to get out of bed but he was worried someone would see us so we had to push mattress through sliding doors to dining room floor at 6 AM. Layers of secret lives! He is SO DIFFERENT from the way he seems but aren’t we all! Drove to the Idyllwild Mkt for breakfast – got lost as least six times but who cares it’s a glorious day – bought peaches, blueberries and mocha java beans. Then we went swimming – stopping after at the mailbox. Rejection of Secaire from HBJ! What a blow and in front of Devon of all people! Worst of all was editor’s comment – I had fallen between 2 stools – “straight” and “gothic.” Ugh. Lowers my opinion of myself in my own eyes. Fortunately I didn’t cry. Devon did his best to comfort me. He compares it to skiing which is 4,000 failures to one success. Said it’s ridiculous to consider myself a failure. I thanked him said he really cheered me up – he said it made him look forward to ministry!!! (He can’t wait to get his hands on some “troubled young women”.) He’s going to a 3 day retreat at Peterborough. Period coming on. It doesn’t faze D. Reading Harold Nicolson’s diaries which are quite a treat. I was afraid he would be all Churchillian. 1PM Fr. 5 Aug 77
Woke up feeling so lousy made myself soup. Swimming and coffee did make me feel better. Read Margaret Millar’s Listening Walls – first half superb. Ruthless abuse of detective conventions – she misleads us left and right. The character of the Author that is built up is that of a viciously uncaring person. Orwell’s war years dull. 8PM Sat 6 Aug 77 Be careful what you want in case you get it. D and I are suddenly in the midst of a very satisfying love affair. He called 5:30 yesterday – wish it had been earlier because I was in a psychic tailspin. Immediately tidied the place up, anointed my body, put on my black silk jumpsuit exploding with roses (last worn on date with R.) He came in wearing tight jeans and a linen safari jacket – we had a very silly time over wine. Christ he can look beautiful when he wants to. Out to a restaurant – I ordered a “flaming volcano” and they had it! More silliness. D. said, “Going out with you is an experience.” He couldn’t compliment me enough on my beauty (heh heh heh.) We saw The Deep which was just what we both wanted – titillating glossy glop. D. kept initiating PDA’s (which he never used to be able to do. Wow has this guy grown up! He used to act like the Amherst PDA Police were everywhere! He suggested we go to bed! No loitering on couch! Sexually he has all the time in the world and he’s all out for my pleasure – his orgasm of no importance. He’s particularly good with my ass and I LOVE that. (He treats every sphincter like another pair of lips – I’m in a threesome with myself!) I always felt like he was “holding back” – not any more. Tendernesses and confidences growing. Nice to be loved! He goes on and on about the beauty & sensuality of my body; my sexuality “like a storm!” Sun 12:30 PM Deck 7 Aug 77 Sitting over coffee, grits (to which Mrs. McManus has now addicted me) and Dorothy Eden. (The Sleeping Bride – very good!) Praying like mad for writing money. I could afford to get a divorce! Lucky things worked out the way they did – keeps me from obsessing over R. Bike ride! It’s a form of prayer. 6Pm Hammering away – great scene – getting the good stuff – typewriter ribbon gave out! Come on! At 6 PM!! It’s like having your horse shot out from under you. I was going to spend the evening writing Goddamit. Starting to worry about R coming back from the Finger Lakes – he knows where I am – would he show up here? Aack! No! Impossible. He can’t be alone. Wouldn’t drive that distance without a captive ear. Reading Jane Aiken’s study of Jane Austen. Don’t feel a moment’s anxiety about D. Mon 8 Aug 77 3 PM On deck loving the rising wind, reading The Scalpel of Scotland Yard (Spilsbury). A perfect day. Trapped here for a few hours till the man shows up to fix trash masher – but at least I got my “naked exercises” out of the way. Today’s a scorcher – using airconditioning for the first time. Cheated on my diet – ate a whole can of tuna. Packed in water, fortunately. Body screaming for peaches and almonds. Gutted the Pevensey library. They are running out of books for me. 12:45 PM Tues Aug 9 - 77 Coming out of my coma to write agent a note. After 3 months of not being “pushy” surely SOMETHING should be happening. I decide I am suffering from a disease that should be called “Dickensitis” marked by severe self consciousness and complicated by “Plath syndrome” (brutal social induction flashbacks). Freezes me in my path. Loving Solzhenitsyn’s article on Shakespeare & Tolstoy. Do I love Devon? Before all of this I would have said yes, very casually but sometimes the better you get to know someone the less you can love them. He was at pains to explain his theology – but it doesn’t seem to involve God – it’s all interpersonal relations – which I have to say I think is just weird! He wants to be “of service” to people and he’s aware – but suspicious about – the “mysticism” athletes get into. I hate to say this but it reminds me of my mother. Any “be wary of people who have an inner life and try your best to get rid of yours” philosophy is a major turnoff for me. When we talk about “self perfection” and “self cultivation” we are talking about VERY different things. I casually told him the more I get to know him the less I know him – and he was very pleased! (Relieved.) He didn’t say why but I know he doesn’t want to be “easy”. I didn’t tell him he’s still held fast in Sleeping Beauty’s overgrown castle, in my opinion. Don’t think I can get him out of there. I always try to plan my strategy if he tried taking the relationship up a notch. But he can’t suggest we live together while he’s a divinity student. Think I can relax about it and just enjoy his magnificent body. Take, eat. Old wounds between us are entirely healed. If D is stuck in SB’s castle, where is R? He is unborn, a baby dreaming in the womb. “When I grow up I’m going to have lots and LOTS of girlfriends but they will all be PERFECTLY RESPECTABLE and SEXUALLY DYNAMIC when I say so!” I regret most working so hard to make him “certain” of me, to make sure he knew exactly what I was thinking and feeling. I put my cards not only face-up on the table, I handed them to the guy! Not many people would be mature enough to handle that. Never discuss what I am feeling with D – haven’t mentioned R after our preliminary intros “what have you been up to”. I’m not sure he even knows how I make money in Washington. 8:45 AM Wed 10 Aug 77 Like the alcoholics say, one day at a time! Exercises, diet, sunbathe, bike ride, swim, etc. Doing a good job at that – horrible job at writing – because I don’t hear from agent. Confidence completely collapsed. Sitting on the deck feeding Ms. McManus’ Caesar salad croutons to a squirrel. He really likes them. Reading Berckmann’s A Thing That Happens To You. Finished Thalberg’s bio – ho hum. No swimming – maybe bike ride in the rain (just a misting). 4:15 PM Sun 31 July 77 Deck
D found Annie Hall so painful it took awhile for him to speak. I was surprised but patient. I couldn’t have dreamed up a movie more likely to focus all our reservations. The scene where Annie tells Alvy she misses him made me think of R – the separate fragile uniqueness of each human soul – and I could tell Devon was “feeling” his memories too. We sneaked a pizza (a whole pizza) into the theatre so we could come right back here for wine and coffee and more wine – took three hours to get to the point of making love. In a fairly daring move D opened the buttons of my jumpsuit and stroked my stomach pulling down first one shoulder and then another to play with my breasts. Lovely feeling our bodies surge together. He’s good with his hands and has the most sensitive nipples of any man I’ve been with. At last I suggested we go to bed – the couch was really too uncomfortable. D went down on me – his body is the most gorgeous since the history of time – mountains, valleys, rivulets – it’s like rock climbing making love to this man. He insisted on coming outside me which startled me somewhat, but after asking about my “protection” fortunately abandoned this technique the second time. (When he comes he makes a little crying noise). He looks at me in a funny way like he wants to say something but he doesn’t say it. I tried to tell him I’ve learned so much from our 5 year friendship – he seemed unable to take it in. He obviously fears the future and his memory is so bad – he thinks the past is all bad news. It’s like he’s afraid to remember. That would be the worst thing for a writer. You dare not fear the past. Rhythms can’t evolve from longing alone. We woke up, grapenuts & coffee, went swimming, sat on deck, watched tennis on TV. Every time I changed clothes he said “the sight of you naked turns me on” and we made love again. Tomorrow is the first of August – whole new beginning. Try to see myself at 33, with a lawn and a bra and a trash compactor. Freedom is key. No mail. Reading Geo Woodcock’s critical study of Orwell. 6:45 PM Dark as night and pouring rain. Obsessing about D’s body – can’t get it out of my mind and our 22 hours together. Welcome obsessions; R’s slate cleared. Did I use him? Is he “Brand X?” Thinking of all the things I wish I’d said. He’s so intellectual yet so impermeable. Strange delicate kisses – as impossible to get inside his mouth as his mind. Loud thunder, lightning. D. Eden’s Deadly Travelers supposed to be fun but falls apart totally at the end. Disappointed by thoroughness of Gavin Lambert’s Conan Doyle study – he said everything – nothing left for me to do. (The Dangerous Edge.) Disenchanted with suspense mode. Maybe Demon should just be a series of short, sharp scenes. I don’t like intrusively officious writers – sacrificing character to story “You can’t let your characters get away from you”. Not only can you – you must. See where they run. Just finished scene between Fawn and Deere’s cast-off “maitresse en titre”. Needing a scene between Jewel and Fawn, Fawn and Del. Let them accumulate like raindrops. Dinner rice, chicken broth, onions. Coffee. Shouldn’t read true crime in bed. (Shiver.) But I will. 2 months since I’ve seen R. 10PM Black Dahlia almost did me in, too! That poor girl! The writing style in Infamous Murders is the most infamous thing about it. Wm. Roughhead I adore. 1:45 PM Tues 2 Aug 77 No damn mail for THREE DAYS. No stock certificate, nothing from my agent. And I made sure she had my right address. I think diets brew self-hatred. Reading about Simenon and having trouble with sentences like “50 of his novels date from this period.” Shouldn’t read about this guy. Starting to dream about Dupont Circle. 10PM Just back from a long bike trip down interesting country road. Felt I was visiting my future self. Glimpsing dark houses, lighted bow windows, Canada geese as tame as ducks. Alice Crimmins – did she do it? Rorech’s theory pure hogwash. I think there are people who can “talk themselves into” feeling innocent. I’ve met lots of amnesiacs. Plan to buy silk shirts (in Washington) and read all the newspapers. Emerge from my cocoon. Read Graham Greene section of Dangerous Edge. 7 PM Wed Aug 3 77 Sitting out on deck well pleased with self. Stock cert arrived today. Called Chevy Chase Bank and Trust got girl who didn’t know anything but relayed instructions shouted at her by someone else. Signed stock, climbed in Volvo, sent the whole thing off certified mail. Money should be in by 10th. Surely Inzar can’t drop below 9. I can manage on $900. Long bike ride had me puffing like a grampus; feeling extra hungry so had a bowl of grits. Orwell’s letters. Kipling too boring. Never been able to stand anything he’s written. Reading trashy gothic The Room Beneath The Stairs makes me think I can do something with my old The Bride and the Wolves. Conditioned my hair (oleocap.) Looks good in spite of sun & chlorine and it’s nice & long. Maybe R’s been fired. He’s a coward and that would shut him up. Shouldn’t even think about it. I’m a nail biter looking for a nail to bite. There’s a lot to be said for the joys of starting over. Stomach shrinking & all that. 10:30 AM – Poolside – Thurs 4 Aug 77 Watching the kiddie swimming lessons while reading Hog Tied in Babylon (That’s what it SHOULD be called. Overpraised Hollywood reminiscences. It’s like reading a “talk show”.) Had to return a Michael Innes unread it was so ghastly. Critical look at body in the mirror this AM. Losing my hips make my waist disappear. Hmm. Legs OK. Open swim! 5PM Boring, annoying mail. Threatening letter from Motor Vehicle Admin. They are upset because name on license and name on registry not the same. Blame my marriage when I used to be Vill-Aallyn. Sort it out when I get down there. Nothing from R so I refuse to write to him ever again. Two weeks since he phoned me. (He should be used to this – he and his wife used to get into the long competitive sulking matches.) 10:26 PM Lousy bike ride. I was so hungry and it seemed such hard work. Maigret & The Loner senile yapping. 2:30 PM Wed July 27 – 77
Masturbation is the better part of valor. Don’t make decisions ruled by sex. Husband my wattage (joke). Too bad sex is such a fast way to get to know someone. First draft of Demon so far bony and spare. Neatly boxed “components” = “write your own novel”. Trying to exterminate “dead” patches. Wish I had done this with The Mass at St. Secaire – but in those days I was in the “throw in everything you think of and take it out later” school. I like constructing this awkward armature better. Lean and mean superior to flagellate and winnow. Will I let R see this new body, this new confidence? He will hang on for dear life and I don’t want that. I want to go back to dancing but R prefers I have neither security NOR money.) Think I’ll look for a sublet – easier to impress a private owner than a credit union. I’m not afraid of living alone. Painstaking cultivation of intense privacy in the midst of a crowd has always been my forte. Mom and Dad called – acting all worried. Apologizing for giving R my number. I put on a good show of being completely ”over” him but I can see they don’t want me moving back to Washington and prefer Mrs. McManus’ ski chalet option. (My cynical side tells me it’s just cheaper.) I act like I have connections to the literary life in DC and they don’t know any better. Thornbirds is teaching me the great unpleasantness of what publishers define as “a good read”. Contrary to my belief the Victorian period has not ended. Forced to skip the war, potted history and scenery descriptions just to keep going. 7:30 PM Finished Thornbirds. Neither Dane’s death nor Justine’s love affair rang true for me. Uh oh. Danger signs. My taste thoroughly out of kilter with the market. Couldn’t swim – 3,000 spectators of some sort of race at the pool. So went to library – checked out twelve books – bio, history murder mysteries. Alec Waugh, Somerset Maugham, Vyvyan Holland, High Walpole. Evelyn Waugh, of course. At this very moment R is doing his last show of 7:30 Live. Will they have a party or wake? Probably go out drinking at the Shalimar, try to pick up dancers. Time to walk and see how the other (99%) live. 2:45 PM Thurs 28 July 77 Loving myself today. I am very tan. Hair strawberry blond and my stretchmarks look like silk moiré. Any sense of inadequacy must be pounced upon and shore dup – like a beaver at his dam. No worries, few fears. Daddy sent $ which I deposit in my acct. Since I can’t cash a check anywhere I eat what’s here; pickled beets and plain grits. Gallons of water to even it all out. Shake the old body out after 27 years. Decide two people create love – I refuse to do it alone. Reading Ford Madox Ford and grooving on his Violet versus Elsie problems. Schadenfreude. Years later poor Elsie says, “I should have ignored everybody and divorced him.” Alas, Ford is a self-centered fool. Not simpatico character. However the period is a favorite with me. Mail hideously dull. Nothing from Harcourt. Will my “Westerns” editor have the nerve to turn down an author they’ve got 105,000 copies of? Yes. All a bunch of weenies, frankly. Bike ride. 8:45 PM Finished article for the McManus mag about Shadowe – “Island in Common” – 750 words – sent it off with letter. Mission accomplished. Thinking of substituting a night ride for my walk. Trigger fewer yearnings. Ford’s moved to the US and I’m at the end of my tether with him. Tried reading Jane Novak’s Razor Edge of Balance on V. Woolf – she’s no threat – Lingo Academico virtually impenetrable. Loved reading Fowles on the Fr Lt’s Woman – even though he has a “tin ear” about the Victorians – their “failure” to depict “a man and woman in bed together” ! (How about My Secret Life!!!) He’s the real thing all right even though he launched 1st draft without any research. (It shows.) I’m going to stop freaking out about how little I know London. Full of joy & life & strength & immortality & pep. Now thinking fondly of DC. Resist the impulse to call myself a turkey for even MENTIONING living together to R. (I said in my phone message I had to have a house for dogs.) I can see him crying over his beer at the strip club. Seeing his wussdom as independence. I feel and look mighty thin – but refuse the temptation to weigh myself. Size seven is good enough. Took my walk looking indulgently at couples with children thinking, “This too is within my reach.” Mail full of dull rejections NO interest or acceptances. But the UNITY MITFORD I’d ordered came which I’m reading now. Must write about sisters someday. It’s a trip. 11:12 AM Sat 30 Jul 77 Going out tonight with Devon to see Annie Hall, that laff riot he hasn’t seen. This is one of the things I love about life – it’s so fucking unpredictable! Give these guys space to stew they will eventually DO something. We had a nice phone conversation. I can tell he has “traumatized” himself by “inviting” me here. I tell him hardly, I’m writing 8 p. a day (of course it will all have to be thrown out) getting a tan and reading piles of books. (All true.) Too cold & overcast today for pool though and now its raining. Starting to get a feeling D and I will end up in bed. It’s inevitable. How I crave that tight young flesh…Bet you $5. Will wear my faded cerise linen jumpsuit, high heels and Nefertiti necklace. Stoking! Bike ride combined with cold shower doesn’t work. |
Alysse Aallyn
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