And Karen said, "At college you're like a rubber band being pulled different ways..." Very true, I'd say, judging from the perspective of 2 weeks at G.W. And it's only the beginning. I've experienced my first identity crisis and disillusionment with courses. I've made some acquaintances and am working on the possibility of a real friendship. I've grown to honestly admire one girl and have lost my respect for another. All in just 2 weeks.
I felt my first pangs of homesickness earlier this week in connection with my "Terry crisis". As I wrote to Don, my high school contacts hadn't really prepared me for her tactlessness and lack of depth. But, as we're all struggling to do here, I'm trying to adjust. Judy has turned out to be an inconsiderate, shallow sort of person whom I'd rather not get involved with. Terry does have an interesting circle of friends. Linda is sweet, but rather reserved and lacks sparkle. Ellen has a tendency towards snobbishness. Cathy, as I mentioned, is sweet and intelligent but caught up somewhat in her own popularity. It's no wonder I've felt intellectually stifled.
Christ, I've even been reduced to playing solitaire. Sue Reicher, thank God, has potential and I don't mean to sound egotistical by saying it. I just mean that she's about equal to my rather stiff qualifications for a person to become a true intimate in that I can talk completely openly and freely with her. Admittedly, last nite was our first real talk and I was obviously, though not intentionally, playing the "impressing game". I hope, eventually, to be able to begin the process of breaking down our conditioned defenses. True, I did open myself up a great deal to her but I have to be honest in saying that it was the result of a need to have someone express an interest in, as well as approval of, me. I need this very much now, being on my own; yes, security in a peer group.
Talking to Sallly out at Uof M was a novel experience. Roles were switched for the first time and she became the one to offer advice. it was really gratifying... I find now that I can get quite high on Coppertone suntan oil. The mental imagery of the odor of summer can be quite intoxicating.
Don is beginning to "find" himself and to establish an identity. He is being driven towards a new awareness of himself that involves travel, exploration and expansion of his own experiences and beliefs. It's exciting to go along with him on such a journey of the mind into self, and the physical freedom that it entails will add yet another dimension to US.
I'm sitting here writing like one possessed. I feel liberated, conscious, curious. Sociology today was fascinating. I felt my mind reach out hungrily to grab at the words, the concepts. I was stimulated both mentally and physically to be a part of that discussion. Walking back to the dorm, scuffling through the leaves on the sidewalk, I was alive with a purpose, spurred on by the desire for understanding. And a person with a purpose is somebody.
You know, the shower is a great place to think.
October 5th
I've got to pour my feelings out someplace. What I really want to do right now is talk to Don but I don't think I should run to him everytime I get depressed, and depress him too. So I'll wait until he calls me. Well, things have built up to a high pitch again. The weirdest thing is that I want to cry and need to cry but I just can't. And it's not only because there are people around. I don't understand! At this moment I know that my feelings are compounded because I miss Don so much. Just looking at these pictures and hearing our songs.
It wasn't even so bad last week when the memory of our weekend at least made everything tolerable, if not enjoyable most of the time. Now I'm starting to have doubts about GW being the right place for me. The past 2 days I've just felt so lonely and out of it. I don't know whether my depression is causing the doubts or vice versa. I only know that right now I want Don, my family and old friends, ot at least someone here to be able to talk to whenever I feel down in the dumps.
Joanne is nice, but at times she's almost too nice in that she'll be almost overly sweet and polite to people we both obviously can't stand. I mean there are limits. And Sue. Sue is great to talk to, when she's around, which isn't very often. She has her own crowd -- roommates and all, plus Brent out at College Park. I keep writing and telling everyone that I'm certainly not miserable, but I can't think of a better word to describe the way I feel right now.
Would I be happy here if Don were closer? I think so, but I don't know. My happiness at college certainly can't depend on him. Christ, I am really depressed now. It's even taken away my appetite. I bet'cha if I could meet the right someone that things would improve. Just someone mature enough to talk to and relate to. Sunday nites have always been kinda sad but this one is ridiculous. I should be happy because I'm gonna see him in 5 days. I'm happy about that, but otherwise, bleech. I know that I'm not as bad off as some kids, especially those with crummy roommates, but what should I expect from college? I really don't know anymore.
It's so different from what I expected, I think. It's not so much the work, just the people, and more particularly the girls that I know. At times it's enough to make you sick. Such superficial relationships. I would almost rather have an impossible work load if I could have some close friends along with it. With all Don's complaining, at least he has the relative quiet of a small dorm and a few friends to visit if he feels like talking. And even Sally has kids who will see her through a crying session. I wish Don would call.
October 8th
Some interesting quotes from Berger's Soc book:
"In science as in love, a concentration on technique is quite likely to lead to impotence...Weber's sociology thus provides us with a radical antithesis to any views that understand history as the realization of ideas or as the fruit of the deliberate efforts of individuals or collectives. This does not mean at all that ideas are not important. It does mean that the outcome of ideas is commonly very different from what those who had the ideas in the first place planned or hoped. Such a consciousness of the ironic aspect of history is sobering, a strong antidote to all kinds of revolutionary utopianism.
In Pascal's words, what is truth on one side of the Pyrenees is error on the other...Perhaps the decisive event of man's history on this planet took place on a quiet afternoon in the year 2405 BC when an Egyptian priest woke up from his siesta and suddenly knew the final answer to the riddle of human existence -- and promptly expired without telling anyone. Perhaps everything that has happened since is nothing but an inconsequential postlude. Nobody can possibly know, except perhaps the gods, and their communications appear to be regrettably ambiguous."
I'm sitting here, bored to tears, so I guess that I'll waste some more time by reminiscing. (Screw the homework.)...Let's see...Forest Garbage Avenue...I remember way back when we used to catch lightning bugs in paper bags (ugh, the smell!), and ride the traveling whip and merry-go round ("Johnny Has an Apple on a Stick"). hoola hoops were popular at the time and we also had gone through the Davy Crockett coonskin cap fad, bob-a-loops and yo-yo's. Remember "The Witch Doctor" and "The Purple People Eater?" There were games of Red Light, Giant Steps and 7-Up that later evolved into Hide-n-Seek, Football, Frozen Tag and Softball, as well as Greek Dodge and Stepball.
Those were the days of Darryl Osher (Peanuts, Randy, Goldie, Muriel & George, Ronnie, tape recorders, Sooty, the FBI lady and the "case of the missing trunk", Oh-Look, "The Thing", monster magazines, olives, crayfish, "Wake up Harry, the canary's on fire!", the Karen-Sandy romance); Neil Tucker (chicken noodle soup, cupboard full of comics, crew-cut, astronomy shows, "No Trespassing", the Soaky bottle through the door, Halloween pranks); the Troschs (Ricky's bouncing, Cocoa, football Sundays, burning leaves, baby-sitting for Glenn, the color TV, ping pong/pool table, Jimmy and Tommy, Mad Magazines and COMICS, the swordfish).
Simon Statter (our Monopoly wedding and front porch divorce, lifting weights, Campfield dances, bike-riding, golf, running down the street playing with an imaginary ball, "They're Coming to Take You Away"); Sandy Dehring (Shep, chem lab, mice, "Sweet Pea", Renny, the neighborhood war, the Crow Club, guitar, bible contests, battle for Danny, "Sharing You", spooky houses); Sue Molofsky (throwing the toys down the sewer, wheeling the puppies around, paper dolls, "Horse" Cartwright, breaking into my house with the gang, tuna fish lunches, backyard swimming and attack of the Russians, solitaire, sleeping over and the "disappearing coke", towel tents); Danny Winn (the 11-year crush, Pepper, softball glove borrowing, waiting on the porch, walking around the block, "More", getting side-swiped in Lochearn, watching TV, Jan'n'me'n'Sandy).
So many more of the gang like David and Andy Goldberger, Mara, David (obnoxious) Statter, the crazy Cohens, Ronnie and Karen Brooks (horror stories, the psychopathic killer, tape recording, Mrs. Berman, ol' Friedland), Scott Winn ("oogy"), Danny (big feet) Zlotowitz, Linda Levy (winter "Laredo" sessions, 9th grade, Jim, Price's, diaries, Neal & Lee, Milford, slides, dancing, cycles, Canada). and I can't forget the rest of the crowd -- Hal Wander, Mike (Puppy) Hoffman, Andy Buchman, Chickie, Allan, Barry & Craig, Jan Sody.
Wow -- those were the days. Not a single serious responsibility. Just running, going and playing. Mrs. Mazur, Amber and the rest of her homeless animal brood. Climbing trees, snoballs (the chocolate one on Sandy's head), our Python football team. Denise Stein, group horseback riding, our continuing stories at night. "Niagra Falls", picking the bushes, wearing Darryl's tremendous sweater. And hanging out at Danti's and Liberty Pharmacy. Creating the bus stop at my house and before school snowball battles. Scrabble. Camp. Grapes in Mom's room. Ripping my pants on the fence. SO MUCH!
I'll never forget when all 15 of us or so would take off for the movies, the Plaza or bowling. I even remember the exact evening in front of Darryl's when our nightime routine of sports became one of parties. Oh well, I better stop before I start crying or something. It is a little sad to look back and remember, but it's good too. I can laugh when I see how far I've come but I know, too, that I've been lucky. Forest Garbage Avenue was a swell place to grow up.
October 9th
Fantastic sunset. I opened the window wide and sat on the ledge. The sky was black with scarlet trim near Superdorm. Lights were bright pinpoints and the monument fairly shown. Planes left wispy trails...blinking signals. Reminded me so much of the tour out west. I feel happy, peaceful, yet a little excited, too. The records playing bring so much to mind. I'm alone in the room and my thoughts are free to wander...
October 16th
Sittin' here listenin' to Blood, Sweat & Tears "And When I Die". Really cool.
Christ, I should be studyin' but I'll wait until after lunch. WHEE! It psychs me up hearing from Don. Been reading The Vintage Bradbury. Excellent.
So once again I have re-emerged from the depths of depression and I'm grateful for whatever mysterious force it was yesterday evening that impelled me toward 609. Amy Sussman is quite an intelligent girl with an oft-times cynical awareness of people and especially of people in this dorm. She finally convinced me that it's not an absolute necessity to be best friends with one's roommates. I guess that Linda Reis set the pattern that I thought all normal, happy, well-adjusted freshman girls should fit into as far as rooming together.
After putting forth what I thought was considerable effort on my part and not experiencing any results, I naturally began to look inward and blame myself for our failure to communicate. Intensive self-questioning and doubt can be quite destructive when pushed to extremes and yesterday I felt as completely alone as if I were on a desert island. I'm not much good usually when battling my own hubris but I found myself seeking comfort and approval from Amy in much the same way that I usually give them to others. It's great to know now that I can use my contacts in 609 (Amy, Sue, Debbie, Cindy) as a launching board for discovering other kids more like myself.
What happened, I think, was that at first I found fault with Terry simply because she was not like the people who I've become accustomed to relating to in the past 2 years. So I turned to Joanne out of a need to identify with someone in our room. Joanne is much more perceptive than Terry but she's also more "socially-conscious" and more of a politician in that she's everybody's friend and confidante. Now that's swell and all, I guess, but not what I'm looking for.
As they began to grow closer, I found myself excluded somewhat -- by them and by my own wishes. Endless games of solitaire began to frighten and frustrate me and I kept saying, "What's wrong with me? Why don't I feel like making the rounds of the food machines every night and sitting out in the hall discussing boys and dates and nothing of any consequence?" It still amazes me when I look at Terry how a person can have absolutely NO specialized interests!
Things would be much simpler, I know if I weren't so damn sensitive, but for the moment my strategy is just to keep out of the room as much as possible when I feel that familiar feeling settle on me. I have someplace to visit now and I've also found my own little corner of the study lounge. I've regained my balance, my optimism and a little more strength to add to the reserve for next time.
Interesting to speculate on the differences between having S & G as a background for making love and as a background for doing homework...People respond to truisms -- "Man this guy's sayin' just what I feel. That's how it is!" I guess that's why I write so many of them down in this book...I'd love to have my doodles analyzed.
October 28th
It's amazing what an effect music can have on me. It's responsible for most of my "associations" and certain songs can snap me out of a mood quick as a wink. I was depressed and quite lethargic this afternoon and as a result quite vulnerable to Room 631's "slings and arrows". My vulnerability is primarily centered around my image and self-esteem which has become painfully obvious ever since I've come here. But just listening to "Leaving on a Jet Plane" reminds me somehow of Don and the strong little me that gets covered up sometimes. As long as I remember who I am and what I have going for me, I'm OK.
But it gets hard sometimes, ya know? I really envy Millie for the confidence and realistic understanding of herself that she seems to have gained. That was quite a beautiful letter she wrote me and I'm certain that her experiences abroad will be infinitely more valuable to her now than the atmosphere of the university which is, as she says, "more conducive to response than thought".
I've had a lot of ups and downs in the past few months and most have been related to coming on or off of my false sense of security. When the mood of the room is light, bright or of a confidential tone, such as when we're recording, I have that feeling of belonging and I tell myself that all doubts about the 3 of us are contrived and ridiculous. Dozens of times, though, I've become annoyed with myself as I realize how idealistically trusting I am and how I can force myself to believe anything that will contribute positively to my emotional well-being, if only temporarily.
I've even begun to wonder lately if I'm becoming paranoid or something because of my frequent suspicions that people are talking about me behind my back. Weird. I think I can honestly say though that I'm happy at G.W. and I can think of the dorm as home now despite all of the little frustrations.
Which brings me around to the subject of colleges in general. I wrote ol' JCT that "college ain't what it's cracked up to be", which seems to be the general consensus of opinion according to all the kids I've written to...You know, I just lost my train of thought. Damn. There's so much I've been meaning to write about but I just haven't had the chance. I'll just have to catch up later 'cause I'm going down for din-din.
October 29th
I'm happy now -- right now that is -- and I can understand and appreciate the moment for what it is instead of trying to force it to expand.
Wow. This was a HUGE insight and I didn't realize how important it was.
Talking to Joie was wonderful and I really can't wait to see the gang at Thanksgiving. Will we all have changed?
This evening was a good "Terry-night". She was funny, friendly, sociable and even helped me to my bed when I suddenly felt dizzy in the bathroom...Sitting here listening to some old songs again. I'm trying to integrate my separate worlds somehow. Was there ever a world before GW and Thurston? Yes there was, and I can recapture it through music...Thoughts are coming more quickly now but I can't capture them. Is it pumpkin time? Nope...
I've been having pangs of nostalgia lately, really sharp, about Woodlawn and more particularly Forest Garden. The numbness has finally worn off and in its place are beautiful, yet painful memories...I find myself questioning everything these days. GW is like high school, it's true. Maybe Antioch's more my speed (too smart for me, tho!). I dunno -- the kids here, some of them, are unbelievably crude and filthy rich. Marilyn has been to Europe 10 times.
Sex is no big thing on the whole. From my vantage point I'd say that the majority of just this floor aren't virgins. I'm picking up a more direct, bluntness of manner that I think complements me. Honestly, it's a relief to hear certain things said without beating around the bush, and for all of my "mature level of openess" and philosophized communication breakthroughs -- I'm really learning a lot.
Linda Reis was right about one thing -- you certainly do get an education in people at college. I feel like I'm evaluating myself in almost a vacuum, though -- foreign soil. I guess I consider pre-GW days as the comparative reality. I reflect on how all changes here will affect my "normal reality". What am I now? WHO am I? And just 2 months ago I thought I knew. Wow. I'm back in 11th grade again in certain aspects, like discovering new me's through new people.
Don and I are changing at a rate parallel to each other, but if I stand back I can see that our past is not a solid center point on which to base our progress. But this I mean that what I'm judging now as reality actually doesn't exist because reality is only change.
Another WOW. Too bad I forgot this for so long.
I think of Don as the rock in my ocean of stormy tossing but he is moving, too. I wonder if all this will make sense the next time I read it. SMILE!
October 30th
Oh boy, I got 12 new magic markers today! I feel like playing with them.
Mrs. Donald Schlenger -- neat, huh?
Let's play the association game. OK -- tres vite -- color person black tutor Hopkins Paul Don kids bus Vince cold late car talk snow mice date Chizuk stamp purple owl Don love kiss sex tunafish house window monkey Stanley Dad apartment rug stereo art Jeff posters room lamps grass cold wet keys date hot chocolate clock sheets. Isn't this ridiculous?
La la la...
Terry stinks. Why do I ever let myself trust her? Something told me that she'd make excuses about going but I wanted to believe that she'd actually come. Oh well.
Green time gang. Free expression and all.
Dennis is nice. And cute. And rich. And a friendly classmate. And that's all, unfortunately. Haven't been able to add a Date category yet. Will keep you posted.
This is your life, Sunny Plaine. Oh wow?
Enough of this!
Yours truly,
The Kid
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