24 Dec 77 - midnight – Plush Palace
The Big Day. Go home, sleep, wake up, do laundry, take dogs for shots, buy snow tires. In a haze of infatuation – J was in for 5 hours tonight watching me dance with a sense of unmistakable pride. He asked for my phone number so he could call me on Christmas Day – I gave him all of them. New York City Dec 25 77 – Fri night. Life is so interesting, Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Lovely intimate family talks – just what family should be doing for a perspective on past and future. Two days Avril and I drive to Michigan to see Merrill – 11 hours – tonight’s dinner in the Village then an early night. Heard of a studio apt on the island – winterized – going for $200/month. Of course I will have enough royalties for that…or won’t I? Harcourt royalty dept uncooperative, Lauren very cagey. But won’t the island kill my already comatose sex life? This is the longest time I’ve been away from dancing and I miss it. It’s a great substitute for sex but not a complete one alas. Physical activity vital to my peace of mind. 96th St off the Park- New York City – 26 Dec 77 This apt triggering horrible flashbacks to how sick I was at the beginning of last summer. Scary that a man could do this to me. Don’t ever want to get that sick again. Makes me sorry this diary exists – my trusty friend – because now misery has an actual corporeal reality. Burn these sickening wails before I die. The Victorians always did. Well I’m raring to get back. Not only do I miss the dancing, I miss the bar. Ah, the nightlife. Always a party atmosphere but I could feel superior for not drinking (or getting high). I like our status and protections – I like getting paid for exercising, being admired and having fun. This pleasure just cannot be shared – Mom’s face crimps closed – and I am lost in the unredeemable beastliness and ugliness she feels certain it must be. The fact that I am a feminist and consider myself spiritually in tune with the universe also is incomprehensible to her. (Wives can get into big spiritual trouble too, but I am too tactful to bring that up.) Unfortunately there is no way to defend myself except by attacking back – her “ safe”, closed, restricted world of handmaiden to Dad, feeding and burnishing him like a racehorse, talking him “up” as if she were his sports coach, does not seem to me more inherently saintly. But to Mom self-loss is what “sainthood” is – you totally do not regard yourself in your care for someone else. The fact that you are puffing them up like a grampus, encouraging them to be completely selfish, is I guess too shockingly cruel to mention. So I’m stuck in Patient Griselda mode with undeserved imprecations heaped on my innocent head. I wonder if it would be too nasty to talk about how I am sacrificing myself for those poor lonely men who need to look upon a perfect feminine ideal while they swill beer? Guess I better not. Mom is fond of saying that love doesn’t work unless you open your heart to the other but you can’t do it without marriage! I say Jervaze and I are “courting” which is a very different thing. I don’t think I will ever open my heart again. I think perhaps it opens by itself, naturally. One might as well tear a flower open and complain about the quality of the bloom. Interesting being here with Brett and Genevieve and watching someone else’s marriage from the outside. Does not look too enviable. Reading “Eclipse of the Hero in Victorian Fiction.” He’s in eclipse everywhere else, too, I may add. Mon 27th Dec 77 11:00 AM See Dracula on Broadway – pure pleasure with some honest scares. Frank Langella very sexy. At Italian dinner Mom and Dad push island hard, but I know the old people would never leave me alone. They’d be worse than R. Still, there’s something magical about being protected from the real world by the ferry – places you can’t get to easily are wonderful just for that reason. Mom and Dad say further I can’t be serious about my writing or I’d have a job in publishing or magazines! I’m so rocked back on my heels its hard to argue. It sounds so sane. But why won’t it result, really, in another “hostage taking” of my soul, which, so, so regrettably, appears to be so fragile? Becoming one’s self is life’s greatest challenge – and it does seem necessary to abjure group (gang? Team?) endeavors. Writing isn’t satisfying unless it comes out of the wild side of me – my secret side. There’s always the temptation to rip open the spider and get the silk out faster. Dad rolls his eyes – it’s the old “I’m an artist so I can do what I want” argument again. How to tell him yes, he’s right. Yes, I’m taking advantage of my education, my family, my “advantages”; it’s who I am. No going back to some invented Dust Bowl life of drudgery just so THEY “feel good”. They insist they don’t WANT to “feel good!” It’s about what’s “right!” My turn to roll my eyes.
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Sat – 18 Dec 77 9:30 AM
Very dissatisfied with life and self and, as usual, in complete confusion as to what to do about it. I suspect I should not be making any big investment decisions, like buying a house and furnishing it but I am sick of being such a goddam wanderer. Avril has been accepted at U of MD – my job is to finish this goddam novel. If I could finish it maybe March, April and May could be my traveling months. I thought March skiing could be nice – in Devon’s back yard. I am in danger of making an idiot of myself over Phil Jervaze – “Adonis” as I privately call him . He seems very attracted but is not making the first move. I’ll have to bring him along somehow. Going tomorrow to Renaissance Music at the National Shrine. Should I wear my rhinestones or can I restrain myself? Avril says I’m doing a good job taking her mind off of Dipstick, (my name for Mason). Bought her $80 worth of clothes – she can pay me back when I need help with the January rent. The Plush Palace 20 Dec 1977 – 4 PM Avril called to say that Ryder called again – trying to find out my holiday plans from her. Says he might have to work. I am surprised to be shaking so much. I am very unhappy about this level of communication. I was actually hoping not to have to deal with him till after Christmas. Would prefer not to give him an opportunity to go into his act. I’ve learned if I call his work I get his secretary. Left the message I will be “out of town”. Favor, Alysse., The trouble is, telling a gameplayer you don’t play games is all part of the game to them! There is absolutely nothing I can do to step out of this thing except bore him to death. We will see each other fewer and fewer times, the emotional content will be constantly plummeting, and meanwhile, the chicks on the side he has summoned up for contrast and amusement will be clamoring for center stage. Let them have it. And I have my own magic pill in reserve – Jervaze. That anyone can drift through life so far unironically with shoulder length platinum hair, platinum mustache and a white cowboy hat, drive a 72 Shelby and work for the Pentagon titillates my Yankee soul. But that’s what’s so much fun about the fine commonwealth of Virginia. It’s full of these people. Uh oh. I hear the rhythm of Disco Inferno, audience’s current favorite. Dust myself with body glitter and I’m up. 9:30 AM – 22 Dec 77 Very dissatisfied with my life right now – trying to avoid making out of sheer boredom some kind of major financial mistake – like buying a house and filling it with furniture. Now that Avril has been accepted as a “permanent student” at U of MD don’t see why we shouldn’t share a berth somewhere. One of our dancers is a student there and she says student housing is very expensive. Why couldn’t I rent out rooms? But then what would happen to the three months of traveling I was promising myself ? Wanted to spend March skiing in the White Mountains. I need something more solid than Romance, that’s for sure. Jervaze cancelled our last date so now I’m freaking. It is vital that he makes the next move but my feminist soul revolts. Four months of celibacy appears to be my limit. Sitting in the bay window drinking a third cup of coffee and watching a calico cat stalk the yard. Avril and I have been living rather high lately, buying clothes for Christmas. Last night saw the movie Telefon -very exciting but with an unbelievable ending – then watched Baryshnikov’s delightful Nutcracker on TV. Avril says she’s finally starting to forget old What’s His Face. I’m trying to get her interested in the religious and meditation books that have been such a help to me. She’s not that kind of a reader, alas. No word from R. My latest “daymare” is that he will just show up at the club. Should I talk to Randy? A says he’s asked her. I made her promise to say “We don’t think you should have that information” even if he already knows. I try comforting myself with my knowledge of his vanity – he wouldn’t want other men to see Randy throw him out as an “unsuccessful suitor”. (Angry exes show up at club routinely and aren’t allowed in no matter how they behave or how much money they have. They get On A List.) Let’s hope the sensitivity of his ”face” protects both of us. But he probably would send a stooge – it is just like him – to spy out the land. Fortunately I look good and the place has the Shalimar beat so no disgrace. Jervaze and I are trying to keep people at the club from knowing that we date. But it’s impossible to really disguise favorites what with the tripping, drinks, flowers and etc even if we aren’t allowed to sit with the customers. Stooge could probably figure it out. Maybe R would “give up”. Search me. I’m at the stage with Jervaze where I hunger for some symbol of his caring, that he’s broken through the surface status and glamour of “dating a dancer” and has some deeper regard for me as a unique human being. He buys copies of my book whenever he finds them, but of course that’s status and glamour too, even though it’s just a paperback. I have forbidden him to tell anyone at the club about my book – he finds that a little weird, but I don’t see how being “a dancing author” could do me any good. The thing I most love about this job is that you don’t have to talk. Gave him a book of my poems for his birthday: a declaration of erotic war. 23 Dec 77 12:15PM So in love I’m crazed. I’m at that stage where you can’t honestly tell if the other person is even interested, you’re in such a delirium. Jealousy of all the other dancers because he looks at them. Jervaze says he liked my poems, his favorite being Nocturne. I thought that might do the trick. I possess wiles unknown to other women. He mentioned that his brother’s going back to Alabama so he might be alone for Christmas – I invited him to New York City but I could tell from his expression he’ll never do it. He thinks Virginia is the north – calls the New Jersey Turnpike “undriveable” - a lawless war zone. (If he could hear what we say about the South!) We exchanged presents – he gave me a bottle of Irish Mist and another one of my books (he keeps buying them for me) and I gave him a very small glamour shot in an antique frame – so he can do anything with it – hide it if he wants. Keep it in his car. He said he liked it but in the bar light he really couldn’t see. The we went to breakfast – had a wonderful conversation about ghosts and WC Fields. He believes in one but not the other. I was hoping he would kiss me – regretted the first time when “rocked out” on beer, he leaned forward to kiss me but I pulled away. But last night would have been completely unmanageable – under yellowing lights and the stares of strangers (me in my stage makeup) or out in the pouring rain. So we said goodbye, hopped in our cars. We may not see each other for three weeks! I’ve got his address (on his business card) so I can at least send him a card from NY. Got to get up and face the day. Avril back from her final exam in ½ hour – then off to Landover Mall to see Saturday Night Fever. 2 Nov – Plush Palace – 6:05 PM.
R called this morning to “report in!’ Just to chat about his day! No more of that, I said. I’m busy. Slam. I don’t chat and I’m not sorry it’s too late for me to learn. Actually feeling amazingly happy. Kiki showed me how to cut off my corn with an exacto knife. All better! Still in Vol I of Life of Frost. He was a repulsive human being, all right. Nowhere near as fun as Agatha. Precious equilibrium recovered. 8:30 PM 8 Nov 77 I gave him the full treatment, poor guy. Red Italian boots, glittery eyeshadow, tight, tight jeans. Deliberately drove Conn Ave but no markers from the past reached out their claws. Felt strong and blissful. I was first there (of course) so could order carafe of wine and think. I’ll just explain to him that my idea of friendship and intimacy requires a degree of truth telling that appears to freak him out. He wore his high heels, too. His hair is blonder, longer and messier than I remembered and it suits him. Off to the Bahamas next weekend, he says for a “dive”. He wore the pinky ring I gave him (he says he can’t get it off.) But that holy glow, that shine he used to have is gone for me. I get it that he doesn’t know the pain he caused – shallow people can’t. And that’s pitiable, really. He’s not just deaf in one ear, he’s deaf in his soul. He has a carefully worked out a “barstool rationale” for what happened to us; we became lovers before we became friends. I have no comment. Postponing sex would not have helped – and it might have made things worse dumping all the responsibility for timing on me. I think when he saw how easy it was to draw blood he couldn’t help doing it, and I was a fool and an idiot. I ordered the fruit and cheese plate but left before it arrived. Realize how much I want all this to be in the past. No future of any kind exists for us. Not even in fantasy. The future is what matters. Told him to give my regards to the folks at the Shalimar. He said he’d give me a buzz. Bet I can finish Demon by Thanksgiving. Avril coming. Lucky I have a second bedroom. Furnish it with Kliban posters, a thrift shop bureau and a mattress on the floor. 12 Nov 77 6:25 PM Plush Palace I finally called R. (He’s been leaving me messages.) I said if we were going to have a relationship of any kind – the friendship that he wanted – we would have to have rules (I got the idea from Nancy Mitford.) He said he was so glad I called, he’d been having the most awful day. Took my card out of his rolodex but couldn’t bring himself to destroy it and put it away in a drawer. What rules he said. I said we’d have to think. No idle calls? No talk about past? He said “Please forgive me” and I said “Forgive me.” He said there’s nothing to forgive, Dancing suddenly OK? I said we’re done with all that stuff. Starting over. But I’m very busy working a lot and writing a lot and he said he’s very busy working a lot. No expectations. We both said fine and I’m pretty sure he’s as relieved as I am. We’re going to Looking for Mr. Goodbar Thurs – I want to see it too. He knows how I love movies. It’s perfect weather to pick up Avril at the airport and drive to Galesville tomorrow for brunch with Mom & Dad at the marina. There’s a white farmhouse on Old Annapolis Rd I always look for longingly. Plush Palace 4 PM Wed 15 Dec 1977 Shaking like a leaf. Ryder called the club saying he was called early into work tonight – change of plans. Called his work immediately – “Mr. Arlen’s desk.” Left her a message saying I got his message but do not call the club. Hope this stymies him till after Christmas but I know he is going to say we need each other’s workplace # for last minute plan changes. I’d better have something to say – which I think is THIS IS NOT DATING. WE ARE NOT DATING. You can’t be trusted with my workplace #. Then I start looking desperately for Jervaze to come in. He’s supplying me lately with that all-important fantasy vitamin of which I have been so deficient for so long. Can’t even THINK about R to the background of Disco Inferno. Sat – 18 Dec 77 9:30 AM Very dissatisfied with life and self and, as usual, in complete confusion as to what to do about it. I suspect I should not be making any big investment decisions, like buying a house and furnishing it but I am sick of being such a goddam wanderer. Avril has been accepted at U of MD – my job is to finish this goddam novel. If I could finish it maybe March, April and May could be my traveling months. I thought March skiing could be nice – in Devon’s back yard. I am in danger of making an idiot of myself over Phil Jervaze – “Adonis” as I privately call him . He seems very attracted but is not making the first move. I’ll have to bring him along somehow. Going tomorrow to Renaissance Music at the National Shrine. Should I wear my rhinestones or can I restrain myself? Avril says I’m doing a good job taking her mind off of Dipstick, (my name for Mason). Bought her $80 worth of clothes – she can pay me back when I need help with the January rent. |
Alysse Aallyn
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