1970 -- January

January 6th

Well, I finished the last Narnia book about a month ago and I've been meaning to write about my reactions to it. You know, I really cried at the end. It was so moving and powerfully descriptive. So Aslan was God, and the new Narnia - heaven. It's fantastic how Lewis can write a book of equal appeal to children, adults and ages in between. The Chronicles of Narnia will be a must-read for my kids.



And it was.  :-)

I cooked up a new diet for all us chubby people around here. I call it the "Masters and Johnson Special" and it's based on the calorie consumption of an individual orgasm. We really got hysterical about it one night when Terry suggested that we start lining guys up at the door right away. Think of all the weight we could lose in just a couple of hours!



Now for a long entry: Christmas Vacation!!! The most fantstic and beautiful holiday of my entire life. To start off...Don picked up Amy and I on Friday evening, the 19th. By that time I was sick and tired of everyone, bored and very anxious to leave. When we got home and began to talk to the family, I felt quite strange and different from when I had last been home a few weeks before. Much more liberal and aware than I had been. It certainly was nice to be home though. Especially wonderful was holding Don close at the dorm that night and knowing that we'd have 2 whole weeks together. Wow, what a feeling.

I'm left with so many impressions of those 2 weeks...the fluster of Christmas shopping, the excitement of seeing the lights and decorations, the display on St. Luke's Lane! Holiday songs -- Don's Nat King Cole favorite and my "Sleigh Ride". Sugar cookies, egg nog, watching Dickens' "A Christmas Carol", Donnelly Outdoor Advertising commercials -- "Singing outdoors, singing outdoors, sing, sing, singing outdoors; it's the time of the year, Christmas is here, so sing (Donnelly), sing (Donnelly), sing (Donnelly), sing (Donnelly), sing -- sing'in outdoors."

Snow! Ice! Sleet! Rain! Mike and Jackie, Judy and Coleman, Joie and Danny, Barbara and Arnie, Linda and Rick, Barry and Sue, Larry and Debbie. "The Sterile Cuckoo", "Viva Max", "On Her Majesty's Secret Service", "Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice". Come Saturday Morning, Venus, Walkin' in the Rain, Early in the Morning, Na Na Hey Hey, Kiss Him Goodbye and the song by Jefferson. Super sensual sex and our Harry Little special. Taping, baking, cozy fires. Purple owls, candles, puzzles. I got pinned!








Goldie oldie films of the Hyman clan, spaghetti and garlic bread, B.F.D., Tommy. Pizza, elephants, pepperoni and salami. Diaries, pistachio nuts, sleeping in the den. Richard, Grandma ("Gee, Gramps, was my mother really an accident?), Sally (and Sally and Sally and Sally). Dr. Lizansky and the episode of the banana cream pie. (Our second box of raincoats, hallelujah!). Drinking, mmnn... driving down to Annapolis and zipping back up, obnoxious ol' monkey Stanley, surprise call from Betsi. JCT's new bag -- lying on his back in the middle of the second floor hall and staring at the ceiling.

Birthday cake, cold cuts, deviled eggs, meal worms. comparative kissing, misslehead, iapiadia. I wish I could somehow record the pervading spirit and warmth that characterized the whole vacation. Don and I grew ever so much closer and I really and truly fell in love with him all over again. With his mind free from school pressures, he opened up in a way I'd never seen before. He wasn't afriad to show his anger and our 2 fights were well-fought with satisfactory and loving results. As Jackie said, "It's easier to like Don now if you already know him and easier not to like him if you don't."

It's true. His personality is becoming more defined, and it seems as though he's more aware of himself and his ambitions. I can sense his moods, his reactions and very frequently now we find ourselves saying the same things at the same time! Don's always had a sort of rugged determination but now it's less destructive to him personally then it was. While still "not satisfied with mediocrity" he is reaching a point where his expectations and capabilites coincide.

I came home on the 19th looking for a quiet, familiar place to lick my wounds and reassure myself. I actually received much more than simple reassurance. Renewed faith I guess you could call it. The few hours I spent alone with Jackie made us both realize what kindred spirits we really are, transcending time and distance. College has given me a new perspective on the old gang. I can see them all more clearly and am more appreciative, as well as more critical.

I think that the high point of everything had to be New Year's Eve with Larry and Debbie. "Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice" was just unbelievably fantastic. It made the evening. You could appreciate it on two levels, so that it was both funny and serious at the same time. Two things in particular struck me as worthwhile. The first was a statement made at the sensitivity encounter group by a 64 year old man named Conrad. When asked his reason for attending the session, he replied that he wanted to continue to develop and grow as an individual. Quite admirable for a guy his age, huh?

Reading this now is absolutely hysterical. "a guy his age". Amazing what we knew at 18.  ;-)

The second thing was emphasized repeatedly and that was a desire to have people (among their close friends) say what they feel instead of what they think. The end of the movie also carried a strong message when they played, "What the World Needs Now (is Love Sweet Love)" and showed the different peoples of the world moving among each other and stopping to look, really look, into the eyes of the persons they passed. We left the theatre smiling, laughing, our arms around each other.

Back at the apartment we saw the new year in with Mom and Dad and Jeff and we were all so happy and close. When the folks went to bed, we had a fantastic experience sitting and holding hands with our eyes closed in a little circle on the den floor. It's amazing how much easier it is to speak your emotions from the darkness behind your closed eyes...

I loved having Don over the Hymans that Sunday nite with the family. He's so much a part of our nutty ol' clan. I could probably go on and on but I have work to do. Tune in later, group!


January 8th

I just re-read The Harrad Experiment and I feel as strongly about it as I did last summer. I do have somewhat of a different perspective on it now though, and I can see where Rimmer got sidetracked in certain of his descriptive passages. However, I still experience that familiar sense of excitement and participation while reading it; maybe that's because I'm such an idealist. I incorporate a great many idealistic values in this journal because I want to build my life around them. I want to work at shaping my future so that I actually live my beliefs and philosophies.

I'd say that I've been wonderfully successful at doing this!


January 17th

McCall's magazine came out with an excellent issue last month. It centered around individual conceptions of what the "good life" is, and I thought I'd include some:

"The Good Life exists, here on earth: it exists in the act of loving."  -- Joyce Carol Oates

"My good life has four cornerstones: family, words on paper, the world of nature, and privacy...The Good Life for a country or a planet allows for as many individual Utopias as the social fabric can endure without being destroyed. The worst despotisms are those that legislate the good life. They are morally monstrous when they say (as they have) that the Good Life must be racially "pure", religiously unified, or politically monolithic. They are moderately fantastic when they concern themselves with hair length, the numbers of letters in words, modes of lovemaking and the square inches of G-strings...The four cornerstones might be a little flat without a spire. I do not wish upon you my good life. I wish for you what my good life brings to me."  --  Jessamyn West

"...to have the courage to do nothing but what we really believe in, and to be nothing but loved." -- Carol Ruth Sternhell

"...a world full of compassion and concern." -- Coretta Scott King

"The Good Life is not an absolute; it is subjective and can be defined only in personal terms. Apart from private affections and a reasonable degree of material comfort, which I take it are axiomatic for everyone, the two fundamentals without which for me there could be no good life are freedom of the individual and the enjoyment of art and nature. The first means freedom of thought and expression, freedom to develop one's own capacities and find satisfaction in one's own function. The second - the aesthetic value, or in a word, beauty - is a source of pleasure as important as sex. Art is the only thing that sustains faith in the human kind. -- Barbara W. Tuchman

"The Good Life exists only when you stop wanting a better one. It is the condition of savoring what is, rather than longing for what might be." --
Marya Mannes

"My favorite pastime is to sit on a bench and watch the different people go by. I watch and listen. I enjoy doing things that are not forced on me; I like reading books of my own choosing. I love to walk alone on the beach with my own thoughts. I like the right to think, speak and do what is right for me. If I think something is wrong, I like the right to do something about it. No man can live in a restricted world and come out of it without hate...The Good Life would be doing what I enjoy, living for the moment, taking things as they come. It wouldn't be sacrificing the present for the future, but being a part of each moment and relating to yourself, others, nature, even objects around you. It's being aware of the transcendence of each moment and each experience and not letting life slip by."

"One aspect of the Good Life is not losing sight of simplicity, not taking one's self so seriously that one forgets to be happy or silly or childlike once in a while...The Good Life is being happy, just because you're alive. Knowing you are loved and having someone to love. Being able to see reality in whatever way reality is to you, without someone saying it's not real. It's being capable of living alone, but never wanting to. It's being able to escape from everything but not needing to..."

"The first day of spring, sitting in front of the fireplace with the right person, people who will take a chance, conversations that will strip people's masks away, music that makes you want to dance, friends who appreciate the true depth of friendship, physical love in its proper context, people with the ability to be emotionally moved by either words or an ideal, barefoot walks through green grass, professors who speak to you as an equal, minds not chained by prejudice, thoughts that are well-spoken, sharing a discovery, sharing love...The Good Life is finding an ultimate purpose in living."

Once there is peace, the Good life will be the freedom to choose. not the choice between one danger or another, between existence and exile, but the choice of the good things...Not the absence of worries, but to worry about things which one can solve. Not to be idle, but to be fulfilled at work; not to have total freedom, but self-imposed discipline...(How tragic it is to think that most elements of the Good Life are nature-given, while all the obstacles on the way to it are man-imposed."  - Yael Dayan

The Good Life is love, any way you can get it - or give it...Unless you lovesomeone, nothing makes sense. The more people you love, the more sense it makes...The Good Life is smiling at the world -- and laughing at yourself. (After all, who's funnier than you?)
*************************************************
I just finished reading Stranger again completely through. It's been awhile since the last time and to tell the truth, the story line is slightly absurd. I still agree whole-heartedly with the basic "Thou Art God" concept and the development of communication as emphasized in the water brother relationship, but otherwise...I guess it's kind of humorous to look back on how we regarded that book as some sort of bible.

As I said about Harrad my perspective on it has changed also, as with Prop 31. But aside from the relative validity of the stories, I'm beginning to question the practicality of the hypothesis. Idealistic as I am, I'm starting to doubt the possibility of 2 or more couples being able to switch spouses without jealousy or favoritism. Communal-type living is one thing; I buy that. But as far as sex in a "corporate marriage", I just don't know. Maybe jealousy has been bred into me or something, but I don't think that I could ever honestly say that I wouldn't mind having Don care for someone else as much as he cares for me.

I enjoy developing close relationships with other couples and the playful intimacy that follows. Sex to me though, in the final analysis, is private and personal. Another thing, which came up during a discussion that I had with Caroline, is a new awareness of the financial problems and other considerations involved in a corporate marriage. A legal ceremony would still imply some sort of dependency that would be threatened if one husband or wife died, or simply tired of the arrangement. At least there is more "freedom" in a communal situation.Iif one person or couple decided to leave, they could do it without too much deprivation to the others involved.

"To read is to admit that others can see." -- Joseph Charles Terry (JCT)


January 20th

I have seen the light! While talking to Jo this afternoon, I finally figured things out without realizing that I was doing so. For the longest time I could never understand how she could share secrets and write chummy little notes to Terry while at the same time insisting that we were as close as ever. If we were as close as she claimed, then why didn't she write notes, etc. to me? Well, it suddenly dawned on me that we have developed two, actually three, entirely different relationships in here.

Joann, when she's with Terry, is essentially a light, "surface-type" person. While together, their conversations are usually limited to their problems with guys, food preferences, or the activities of the neighbors. Joanne and I, on the other hand, find ourselves speaking in a more serious vein. So, I see now that Jo's activities with Terry are no reflection what-so-ever on our friendship. Each of us, with one another, has unconsciously developed a certain special type of communication with our own special "code" and set of rules. Ideally I wish that we could all be together on the same level but I see now that this is impossible.

The past month or two has been chock-full of insights and revelations. I've learned a couple of interesting things about myself -- mainly that I'm corny as hell. Seriously though, I've also discovered a creative re-awakening and new enthusiasm for learning in me. I think that the love Don and I share has matured a great deal and I've experienced a special feeling of personal independence. Groovy! (as Cathy would say).

Exams -- "UP AGAINST THE WALL!!!"




January 30th

I'm writing by candlelight now, sitting on the floor by the lounge chair. "Scarborough Fair" is playing softly and the room has an almost tangible warmth. Fires fascinate me -- especially the hypnotic flickering of a candle. The wax drips in delicate little globs down past the ridges on the bottle.





My thoughts now are "Cloudy" and I only wish that I could capture this moment on paper without the threat of someone suddenly breaking the spell. These few minutes or hours of peaceful thought and wonderment are quite rare these days.

When I first came back here last Wednesday, I immediately detected a subtle difference somehow. I wasn't sure what it was except that I felt energetic and restless. We saw "Monterey Pop" again, and the movie, plus the fresh, chilled night air generated a carefree, come-alive feeling. That night was the first time I became aware of a premonition that second semester is gonna be much different than the first.

I feel as though I'm waking up to those old creative urges and the need to explore and break away. For five months I was carried along, without any resistance, by the unpredictable tides of new people and events. Gradually however, my feet are finding solid ground, and I can stand among the breakers offshore and take stock of my surroundings. I feel confident in my newly acquired strength of defining the relativity of relationships and confidence begets a certain level of (acquired- ease).

For the first time in months, I want to run in the rain, roll down hills, fingerpaint, color, laugh at nothing, smile at everyone and be free. Free to discover the new me and what it is that makes me want to grab the whole world and hug it to me. I may be corny, idealistic or cute to different people but in my own way I find myself reaching out instead of being preoccupied with my so-called "image" or whatever. To hell with the neighbors and Terry's crap -- I'm moving past those stubborn old roadblocks.

I want to see the zoo, Congress, the Smithsonian, the Mint. I want to buy photography magazines, do collages and visit Embassy parties. I want to offer Don an individual who's beginning to discover who she really is, instead of stagnating in a pool of superficiality. School's taken on a new sort of meaning -- I want to lear JUST for the sake of learning! What a wild idea, and totally foreign to a large percentage of this college community, I'm sure.

"Knowledge is more than equivalent to force." -- Samuel Johnson

1969 -- December

December 4th

Found a neat little word -- "wonder-full"!...I'd like to start keeping a list of books that I read on my own...GW -- the Custodial Pigeon Park, K Building, "bathtub flinch"...Say, remember my Shirley Temple Storybook?
For some reason I still think about the tale of the "Land of Green Ginger", in which Aladdin's son wins the hand of the princess after capturing 3 tail-feathers of the fiery phoenix on the island of Green Ginger. It would really be great to have your own private, magical little plot of land (complete with grass and palm trees) that could fly you anywhere at your wish. Hmmnn...



Well, gang, some powerful changes have taken place since my last report on the room situation. As Jo put it, "the mouse has finally roared". It began, to be precise, the Thursday nite before the March on Washington. I was in a goofy sort of mood and I was knocking Terry to her face for the first time, and with quite a flair! It was still subtle, of course, but Jo was applauding my success. Since that time, I haven't hesitated to speak my feelings with Terry and as a result, I feel a lot more free.

Correspondingly, Jo and I have grown much closer in our common dislike(?) for her. Terry's shrill profusion of "honeys", constant eating and lack of concern or compassion in the Robert/Paul situation finally disgusted Jo to the point where she enjoys her vacations from the room as much as I do. She and I enjoy working on our little projects for the boys together, and talking about personal problems, ambitions, etc. It's great. My early feelings of paranoia and rejection have unobtrusively dropped out the window. (Yay!)

From Room #631, we move outward to the 6th floor in general. Wow. An honest-to-goodness den of psychos! We could put on a cute little play with just the characters on our little hall alone. We can wing our way down from the elevator to our resident Social Butterfly Andee, Kleptomaniac (?) Judy, Pick-Up Peggy -- daughter of the rabbi of the Virgin Islands, the Food Supply Factory next door with built-in gourmet cook, Insomnia Susan, Kathy -- champion "groover" of them all, Horse Mouth Joan and her jolly crew, Loud Mouth Laurie, Ol' Mama Marilyn, our diabetic bed-hopper Pattie, and we musn't forget the nude performers of 910. What a group!

Saw "Midnight Cowboy" and it has to be one of the greatest pictures I've ever seen. The acting by Dustin Hoffman and Jon Voight was absolutely superb (I love when "John" is spelled "Jon"), and the movie itself was tightly structured with well-developed imagery. The theme was simple and haunting and of course I love Nilsson singing, "Everybody's Talkin'". The flashback sequence and emphasis on contrasts was especially good. It's hard to believe that Hoffman is the same guy who starred in "The Graduate". He had some tuff competition from Voight this time (who, incidentally, has quite a body!) Excellent movie.






December 16th

It's unbelievable how much can happen in the brief (BRIEF?) period of just 2 weeks. To jump right in -- I almost moved out of 631 last week! Things came to a head one night with a combination of Terry's usual secretive bitchiness and a surprising coolness on Jo's part. I was fed up with seeing them with their heads together and suddenly decided to take Amy up on her invitation to spend the night in her room.

And what a night! Room 610, next door, is positively unreal. I'll have to go into greater detail about Beth, but she's well...kind of uninhibited, to say the least. And as for Sandy, who doesn't happen to believe in clothes, and little what-her-name, the head -- what a pair. Beth had something really pretty in her room though. It was a little gold stand, holding 4 candles which, when lit, rotated 4 little angels at the top. Each angel struck a tiny bell as it went around, making sweet tinkling sounds. I'd like to have one of those.



Anyway, back to our story of morbid suspense and intrigue (I can make jokes now, but then -- whew!). Amy's bed was a bit cramped for two. I curled up in a ball near the top but I'm not sure that I slept a wink. I had Cindy wake me at 7:30 so I could go back to the room and study for my French test. I went back, tip-toed in, and was met with a shocking sight. While I was gone they had switched Joann's things with the refrigerator and the food, down to her last taped-up cut-out.

I raced back to Amy's room where I sobbed everything out to her, and then to Mom on the phone. I then went back to the room and demanded to hear the story. Startled by my outburst at that hour, Terry jumped up like a wounded buffalo and we proceeded to holler it out with each other. The scene ended with her sugggesting that I move out, and my tearful retreat to 609.

I wrote Jo a letter and put it in the mailbox on my way to tell my French teacher that I would be unable to take the test because of a death in the family. As the day turned out, Jo and I had a long talk in the stairwell where she explained the many causes of her silence, among them Bert, her sister, and her general unhappiness with the people and workload here. She then expressed a real desire for me to remain in the room. I was seriously considering leaving because I didn't know whether I could fight Terry any longer, or live with tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

I looked at Amy and Cindy and their whole gang and I saw how I had been deluding myself about my happiness. It was one of those situations where what do you do when you don't want to leave but you don't want to stay where you are? Well, things somehow cooled off and returned to relative normalcy. After 2 trips to Eleanor [R.A.]  and one to Mrs. Wittstruck, I decided against moving, or at least to wait until after vacation to reach a final decision. So 'til then!...

1969 -- November

November 12th

Wow. What a day. I'm sitting here, exhausted out of my mind, staring out the window at damp, rainy Washington. Jo is sitting here, too, after having finished her morning bouts of vomiting. What a pleasant scene. I have no idea to what extent I screwed up the Psych test but I do know that the French quiz is a lost cause. Second cut in gym. Christ... Last night was really weird -- lying in bed awake for 5 straight hours. I still can't get to sleep...

Tomorrow starts 3 days of fun and games with the March on Washington. Dunno if, when or how Don's coming or where I'm gonna put him. T'would be nice if he could stay here. I'd like to participate in the march from Arlington and the one down to Pennsylvania Ave., but what is it -- 28,000 National Guard Troops?! We shall see.

I've become very good company for myself lately. Really, I talk to myself inside my head as I walk down the street, making comments about this, that or the other. I'm really quite a friendly and perceptive person...Letter from Mr. Terry was surprising; talk about irony. My reply though is going to be a little more personal this time. I'll have to see how he responds.

So now I'm adjusted. Took long enough! No, good o' Thurston certainly ain't no bed of roses and everybody has their problems, even cheerful #609. Amy's a good kid. Cindy, too. I wonder why it surprises me to have people show an interest in how I feel or what I'm doing. It never used to. Maybe it has something to do with darling little lovable and affectionate Terry. Brother. That girl is really gonna drive me up a wall. Like I've said, sometimes she's fairly tolerable but the other times, with her bottomless stomach and profusion of "Honeys", I could scream! I think Joann may be edging slightly away from her. I'm workin' on it. Terry's cute practical joke the other nite certainly helped, and our talk about Harrad and stuff brought the 2 of us closer together.

Up with legalized abortions -- Washington's on the move...Don's financial affiars are frustrating me. No  money, in other words. What's doubly depressing is that I'm almost in the same boat. The word for the day is BUDGET...I can't wait to spring Don on Dennis on Friday. Dennis is becoming positively obnoxious.

"The principle of self-responsibility, for self, society and the world has relevance only now! Never at some later date. One may not put off being human." -- Ashley Montagu, On Being Human




November 15th

"Come gather 'round people wherever you roam,
and admit that the waters around you have grown.
And accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone,
If your time to you is worth savin'...
Then you better start swimmin' or you'll sink like a stone,
For the times they are a'changin'....

PEACE! Hundres upon thousands of people in Washington. All in the name of peace, love and freedom. I'll never forget these last 2 days. Impressions: A brilliant blue sky, cloud-flecked. The voices of Peter, Paul and Mary, with Pete Seeger leading the swaying, almost reverential verse, "All we are saying, is give peace a chance." Yes, people swayed back and forth, our voices loud and our arms waving the sign of peace. "The Times They are a' Changin'". Steaming coffee. Pressing forward with the urgency of "If I Had a Hammer". Chill wind, damp ground. Leaflets and papers. The stark whiteness of the Monument against the sky. Brotherhood and oneness. Love. Laughing with Scruggs' country music, Beethoven and the symphony, Timothy Leary, Richie Havens, Sen. George McGovern. Speeches of priorities and the expression of the vocal majority (of effete snobs!) The approaching dusk and the performance of New York's "Hair" cast -- and the unbelievable part of the day.

Vice President Spiro Agnew, in lauding the power of the nation's "silent majority", labeled the protesters a group of "effete snobs".





For 10 minutes, over 500,000 chanted the unified plea, "Let the Sunshine In". Some really wonderful guy in front of me offered to let me sit on his shoulders and as I looked about me at the immensity of the smiling, dancing crowd, I almost cried with the sheer beauty of it. And then I looked up at the fading blue, rosy-gold sky and saw over a dozen doves wheeling over our head. The lights of the TV cameras helped to illuminate the growing circle of people just dancing in a cirle in front of the performers' platform. Laughing, singing, smiling together, joining in a massive effort...all ages...a larger crowd even than Woodstock, but without the drugs. Old men and women, determined to end the war, joining in.

I felt like I had truly found myself again after the last 2 months. I wanted to be able to preserve the moment -- drop out of school and travel with these thousands of open, honest and freedom-seeking people. It renewed my faith in man's basic integrity and I felt like proclaiming it to the Universe. I am. I laugh. I love. I live.

Yesterday was a much more personal experience, but quite vital and moving none-the-less. I felt such a fierce surge of pride as we marched through the cold wind, rain and sleet bearing the name placards of all those boys killed in the war. I, Sunny, finally found the strength of my convictions and was able to sacrifice the comfort of my feet, a pair of shoes and the condition of my corduroy coat in order to shout the name of Anthony Tencza as we passed the White House. I remember the look on the face of the man who stood bare-headed in the rain as he offered his umbrella to a group of marchers, and the determined expression on one old lady who sat in a Mobe tent at Arlington. Admiration. Support. The almost eerie ringing of the bell under the stormy sky. A middle-aged woman in a fur coat standing in the pouring rain. "Let the Sunshine In".

I also learned this weekend to what lengths someone (namely, me) will go when she wants something. Two nights Don stayed with me among such organized efforts that the CIA would be hard put to surpass. I spirited him up and down stairs and in and out of closets with quite a finesse, if I must say so myself. Such a happy and unreal 3 days. I'm sitting here listening to "The Sun is a Very Magic Fellow", waiting for the depression to fall. It's inevitable, I'm afraid. Despite a few uncertainties, based on Don's amount of reaction to a few things (precipitated by tiredness, no doubt) we had one helluva groovy time -- from Georgetown to the tear gas raid. I love him and miss him so now. Thurston and F St. look beautiful to me now --- jam-packed with kids from all over the country. Sleeping anywhere and everywhere, eating everything and anything. I love us. Peace.

"A man's reach should exceed his grasp."
"The need to surpass oneself, too strive always for that elusive thing called excellence..."

1969 -- October

October 1st

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

1969 - September

September 3rd

I'm interrupting my Proposition 31 quotes here mainly because Sally borrowed the book but also because I have the urge to write down some other thoughts. I'm sitting here on this rainy afternoon in Jeff's room. The Beatles are playing on the stereo and they generate a warm, kind of comfortable feeling. I feel a little bit funny, though, like I should be depressed or reflective or even excited about the approach of school. But I'm not; I'm in limbo -- detached, yet a participant...maybe I'm just bewildered by the rapid passage of time.

Let's go back to Wildwood. I wish I could. Like so many other beautiful things, I feel like I didn't appreciate it enough while we were up there. Now I almost ache when a song or a picture brings back the memories. For two days, the 4 of us [Jackie, Mike, Don and I] fashioned a Perfection; a Perfection of sea and sky and salt air. Don and I reveled in the pure joy of Us and playing marriage in that little motel room. The warmth of the sun, the cool sandy tunnels, the gulls, blue dungaree cut-offs. Lime Rickeys, cherry ice, spaghetti, lettuce, watery corn. Riding the ski-lift cars over the ocean into the shimmery moon reflected on the waves. Pinball, The Heart of Wildwood, the boardwalk shops, Ivory soap, Prell shampoo. The insanity of Shiloh with "Samson" and his gang, the Mormons and harems. The crimson of the setting sun and the serenity of the drive home. And we could never forget our drive through the woods and the attack of the mosquitoes. Wow.



Timonium [the state fair] was simply an extension of our vacation mood where I saw my pigs and Don ran around like a maniac filling out millions of entry blanks for cars. And out of this summer has emerged a new perspective and a new unity -- Jackie, Mike, Don and I. It's a shame that Time had to intervene in our "experiment", but I hope that in our few days together a bond was created strong enough to endure. Jackie and Don and I are one, and Mike is struggling to be a part. I have, as yet, to develop a strong attraction to Mike as an individual rather than just as part of Jackie, and I think that this is essential if we are to develop an honest relationship.

I am struggling with my old and basic need to shield my vulnerability and my new desire to expose my thoughts and even my weaknesses to those whom I trust and believe in. I'm learning how to "choose" my friends and recognize the level of openness and interaction that can make or break a relationship. I keep emphasizing to Don how our married life must be an extension of this philosophy and how I envision us surrounded by intimate friends not of the Saturday Night Syndrome group. It will be interesting to see, I think, how I incorporate my discoveries of this summer into the reality of the college rush and clutter.

The unbearable hurt of Don's accusations and criticisms of that night last week have given way to the realistic acceptance of my shortcomings, for which I am both relieved and happy. My oft-times self-centered preoccupations have been carefully and studiously repressed and I really am trying hard now to be more considerate of Don and my parents. Of course, it's a lot more difficult with Mom and Dad because the tensions present prior to my leaving for school are reaching the breaking point. Boy are they! Hell, I just need to get away.

Speaking of college, I'm already filled with enough doubts and fears to take care of ALL the incoming freshmen! Well, maybe it's not that bad, but still...I wonder how often I'll get a chance to keep up my correspondence and especially my entries in this book. I wonder how often Don and I will be able to get together. I wonder if I'll turn hippie or smoke pot. As far as I'm concerned now, I don't need pot to reach the great heights that I've already reached and plan to reach on my own, but you never know -- there's always that little curiosity.

Sitting here listening to these Beatle songs inevitably brings back memories of Don and the dorm last year. We've come a long way but I still appreciate how the mood of our evenings there helped to develop our special closeness and I'll always have an extra-special place in my memory for Don's first year at Hopkins.

Two thoughts from the movie, "Charly" that we saw a while ago: When Charly's perceptions of the world developed along with his increased intelligence, he was able to see the utter blindness and stupidity in man's drive for power without regard for others. It makes you wonder whether or not it would be better to remain retarded where the world is mainly filled with a child's ignorant and simple pleasures. And Charly once asked, "Why is it that people who would never dream of laughing at a deaf or blind man will laugh at a moron?" Why?



I'm really looking forward to the possibility of working at the Richards Childrens' Center next summer, even if it is being moved to Catonsville. I realize that it is a lot more difficult to contend with emotionally disturbed children than with retarded children, but I also think that it might be more encouraging. I'm also interested in these encounter groups that Mrs. Stern was telling me about. They're right up my alley.

Interesting to read that I was introduced to encounter groups this early. I don't remember knowing about them until grad school.

Let's see...Forest Garden Avenue...I've been back there twice since we've moved and it's really a weird feeling. I've no regrets that we moved when we did because I love this little place here. Like I've said, I don't miss anyone there now; I only miss what used to be. I still feel annoyed at the thought of someone else living there. I can see the place so very clearly when I close my eyes, and my memories are vivid, yet the one thing I can't picture is me sleeping in my bed. Odd.

The Totem Sign-In last nite was unreal, as was saying goodbye to Jackie for 14 weeks. Judy's comments in my book were polite, encouraging but non-committal, and my words to Barbara were largely B.S. Barbara, sad to say, has been demoted to the rank of Acquaintance First Class, but no higher. Tom was friendly, Rick and Linda were beautiful, as always, and I was deeply touched by what Simon and Barry wrote. As much as I'll miss them all and pray that we'll keep in touch, I still couldn't take another year at that high school. Not no way not no how.


September 11th

Almost 3 weeks have passed since Don and I saw the movie, "Last Summer". The shock of it was extreme, and I remember desperately searching for some flaw in the picture that would make it seem less real. Eventually it became apparent that the characters were one-dimensional and that the story line was very tightly channeled to produce the desired effect. Despite this, I'd still have to classify it as one of the best movies I've ever seen, if not at least the most disturbing, thought-provoking and uncomfortable.

I saw "Last Summer" again about a year ago and it was interesting how much it, and "Charly" felt dated from the 60's...



Looking back through this book and even back to the days of Stranger, it's interesting to see how my relationship philosophy has quietly developed. It began with Don's insistence on, and my later realization of, the importance of communication and closeness. The water brother experience [from Stranger] while part of an idealistic Utopia, was at least something concrete and worth building upon. The relationships that grew out of our new understanding were exciting and satisfying until they began to grow sour from neglect. it was only after the break from Judy that I understood that it takes hard work to establish and maintain a truly strong friendship, and that not everyone is capable or worthy of the effort.

It was at this point that I defined in my own mind the difference between an acquaintance and a friend. Harrad, as I've said, revitalized my feelings in this area and Proposition 31 gave me a goal to work toward. So this summer I found that Don's and my original innocent enthusiasm and idealism can most definitely produce realistic results. This was first apparent during our Wildwood vacation. Previous to this, Jackie and I knew that we had something very special between us, but it became even more special when we realized that it could be expanded to include a foursome.

I don't know whether we will have the chance to enrich this among ourselves, but to tell the truth, it doesn't really matter because Don and I have become aware of the capacity within ourselves to develop such relationships, and even if it doesn't work out with Jackie and Mike, there are many others. Of course, there are ever so many problems involved, as with any new venture into self, and one of the most obvious ones is finding couples of equal maturity, humor and understanding of one another. For instance, I'm very much attracted to Larry and Debbie, but their inexperience with each other, and with the art of communication, makes it impossible at present to establish any sort of "union" other than one involved with a simple dating routine.

But you know, another perspective I've gained is one having to do with Time. Mr. Terry once said that there is never any reason to hate or fear time because once you begin to use it to your advantage, it ceases to exist. Karen said, too, that while at camp this summer, she realized how much there was to do and how much time is wasted in idle and lazy musings. I've always known about people who consider even the time lost while sleeping a senseless waste, but I thought that they were over-doing it. I'm finally waking up to the fact, though, that no one knows how long his or her stay on earth will be and therefore it's foolish not to utilize every possible minute to learn, feel and experience every worthwhile thing.

It seems that I realized this early on, but then apparently forgot it for many years.

However, there is a very definite difference between this, and what some people construe it to mean as circling the globe in search of kicks. Karen was at Woodstock, has smoked pot and taken speed and she claims that these drugs are partly responsible for her awareness of "where it's at". She's not a dropout from society, though, and this is probably the reason why I respect her as much as I do and why we've remained such good friends. Karen realizes that certain changes have to be made from within the system and this is why she's willing to wait for her dream of a beautiful and solitary mountain retreat and instead work now in college and in the city among the "crass and cruel commercialism" that we all yearn to escape from.



Considering that Karen can be classified as a "true" hippie, and not a pseudo-one, I think that her decision says a lot about her intelligence and emotional maturity. But she says that she does envy me for my ability to have come to the same conclusions that she's come to, without the use of drugs. While she's not even psychologically dependent on them at this point, she still appreciates (with smoking) the peace and ever-fascinating insights that she gets. The difference between us is that I don't want insight gained from escapism, no matter how mild or harmless the methods. I believe that experience in living and meditation are the only ways. I'd like to learn more about meditation.

Almost 5 days have passed since I've seen Don and miracle of miracles -- I'm still alive. As a matter of fact, this week has been a truly beautiful vacation...not from Don or anyone in particular, but rather it's provided an opportunity to carry out some really worthwhile endeavors while enjoying the novelty of having evenings to myself. Not that I'd want this as a steady diet, but the change is nice.

Too much exposure was making Don and I rather sensitive and even a little short-tempered so the separation of this week actually was for the best. I slept a little later, lost some weight, read a great deal, wrote, shopped and organized. I even enjoyed the luxury of watching a little TV from under the covers in bed. I really think that I'm about ready, mentally at least, for school after this week. I've made the transition from summer routine to fall.

***********
GWU
September 17th

New purple pen and all...first day here, gang, and so very many impressions! Beautiful day -- we arrived on schedule with just one teeny-weeny tie-up. Dad knew right away that everything was gonna be great when we landed a parking spot right in front of Thurston. 6th floor, room #631, a former small four, rearranged for 3. Terrific! And I even hit the jackpot with roommates, too!

[HA HA HA !!!]

Joanne Kramer, from Baltimore and Terry Douglas from Long Island. Joanne, of course, is as cute and boisterous as ever (though she's a little on the heavy side). Terry is sort of pretty, a little on the quiet side, but definitely has "boy magnetism". I think that we're really going to get along well. Dad and Mom were delighted and even admitted being jealous. Judy Goldman stopped by (a yenta if ever I saw one) as my Big Sister, and gave me some valuable hints including one about a sandwich shop where the folks and I had an excellent lunch. Right now I almost miss them a little, ya know?

All the excitement and nervousness from today is finally beginning to catch up with me. I came back a little while ago from the mixer down in the cafeteria/basement. I should have learned from Hopkins by now that I HATE MIXERS! It was so hot and there was all that slopped-over beer but I did meet at least two decent guys -- Corky (precious name, freshman) and, get this one, Don. Don's a sophomore transfer student. I probably could've met some more but the heat was just too much.

I have tons of stuff to get and I can't wait 'til we get this room decorated. The 3 of us are going to Georgetown tomorrow. I wish I wasn't so sleepy. This dorm is insanity tonight with girls running up and down the halls screaming. Jolly and kinda neat. Signing off --

P.S. I feel like snuggling up to Don now and telling him all about this crazy, wonderful day.


September 21st

A lot of water has passed under the bridge since Wednesday. Faces are becoming clearer, the food progressively worse and the dorm noisier and more crowded than ever. Joanne went home for the Yom Kippur weekend and in her absence, Terry and I have grown much closer. Now that our initial shyness has passed, it's easier to laugh and talk openly.

There are quite a few nerds on this floor, but I've managed to become acquainted with several nice girls -- Cathy, in the "6", is from Wisconsin with a pretty face and adorable manner. She's currently dating Michael Vogelstein, the brother of Joanne's boyfriend, Bert, who Joanne fixed her up with. Judy is from Pennsylvania. She's quite a long-winded talker, but very thoughtful of others and sweet. There's also Roxy, Judy's roommate, and Linda from the 9th floor. There are some others but I don't know their names yet.

The meal lines are ridiculously long but I'm hoping that they'll grow shorter with the start of classes. The food isn't so hot but I like having a fairly wide selection of things to eat. Our room is really beginning to look super cool. We're doing it in pink and black with an entire wall covered with posters.

The only 2 posters I remember [there are no photos of the room] were a Peanuts one of Snoopy dancing, I think, and a black and white one of Paul Newman with his dazzling blue eyes.]

A girl just went running down the hall yelling "Merry Christmas" at the top of her lungs. Crazy.

I don't see how I'm ever going to manage to get up for classes. As lousy as this bed is, it's still awfully comfortable at 7 in the morning. I'm learning to love running up and down 6 flights of stairs. Boys everywhere; at this point they all look alike. My Geology book looks very unappealing.

So I went with Bob to Georgetown last night to see "Yellow Submarine" again. The movie was, of course, terrific and running down the wet city sidewalks at night was fun and made me feel free'n'alive. The pizza at Luigi's was delicious and I loved the corner table atmosphere with the wax from the green table dripping down the bottle. The conversation was thought-provoking and interesting with Bob's cousin and his date, both Psych majors BUT -- Bob wasn't Don. Holding hands as we ran was part of the magic of a Georgetown evening but the suddeness of his kiss broke the bubble. Bob, as a 20 year old hippie and conscientious objector is a fun date, a different experience but certainly not a physical attraction. Maybe I would've felt differently if he were another guy, but with Bob I just felt funny and wanted Don very much. I'm kinda glad that he's going back to Conn. today.



Right now it's 12:20 and Terry and I will be going down to brunch around 1:00. Today and tomorrow look like they will be very uneventful with Yom Kippur. I hope Don calls tonite.

"All of us derive a certain narcissistic satisfaction in looking at a picture that includes ourselves." -- Peter Berger, Invitation to Sociology

1969 -- August

August 13th

I'd like to condition myself to write down at least one thought a day... Goddamit, I hate the sight of telephone wires and power cables strung up for miles and miles. They uglify everything. Put 'em underground!

Iron Butterfly put on quite a show at Columbia the other nite. They not only brought the crowd to their feet, but to the foot of the stage as well. Boy did the management personnel ever sweat up a storm trying to keep the kids from mobbing the group during Inna-Gadda-Da-Vida. It was crazy! They even summoned a few squad cars but luckily  everything remained under control. I had Dad's binoculars with me and even from the hill I could see every face on the stage very clearly. It was really exciting. For some nutty reason I had the feeling I was kind of "eavesdropping" as I examined the facial expressions and clothing of people some distance away. "Sunny Plaine, Secret Agent"! Don looked especially tuff in a shirt untucked over jeans. ("Masculine image"...) I enjoy seeing guys lounge around with a sort of easy-going casualness. Very appealing.



Part of what makes Rosewood "tolerable" these last 2 weeks is what I like to refer to as the "power of the keys". That familiar jingle and feel of cold, hard metal definitely makes me feel as though I own the place. Let's see...speaking of Rosewood...let's take my gang first. Beth -- I feel closest to her and I only wish that time allowed me to get to know her better. Perhaps I'll keep in touch with her from school. I'd like to keep in touch with everyone anyway, so maybe we can go back for Christmas and other holidays. Anyway, Beth kinda reminds me of my counselor, Janet Allen, from camp. Both are warm people and unselfish, although Beth is more dynamic. Cathy -- boy can first impressions be wrong ones! I took an almost instant dislike to her face because she looked quite stuck up, but as it turned out, she's the best worker (and that's quite a compliment since all the kids are tremendous with the patients).

Noni could be even more charming if she'd take off some weight. She has a sweet personality. John -- the summer's most wonderful surprise. Concealed under that shy, withdrawn exterior is a very sensitive, intelligent guy with an interesting sense of humor. He's damn good with the patients too. Sid -- oh well, you can't win them all. It's a shame that had to be spoiled by the laziness of Johnson and Rigney. I may not have been as tolerant of him as I've been had he not reminded me of Danny so much. At any rate, that brief 'love affair" is over and I'm not gonna hesitate to tell him where to go if he starts whining again.

Donna and Betsy -- I don't know them too well, but they seem like good sorts. I'm delighted with the group as a whole and I think that they're far superior even to last year's group. As for me, I've gained a deeper insight this summer and developed a necessary sense of humor in my work. My supervisor position has enabled me to widen my experience with different levels of retardation and I appreciate the efforts of the hospital employees more than before.

I became particularly concerned with the group of kids committed through court referrals because of "cultural deprivation" and eventually I'd like to learn more about the situation. In registering as a volunteer and taking out three Nursery 2 children with Don, I added another, more personalized dimension to my job. I swear that if I'm lucky enough to have normal children, I'll never stop thanking God for the miracle of their health. Most important of all, though, I've seen the look of love light up a cottage attendant's face as she gazed with pride at one of "her boys" splashing in the water.

Them Marcuses! Christ can they get on my nerves. Aunt Marilyn finally managed to get us to take her along shopping this Saturday although I honestly don't know how she did it. She and Sally repeated endlessly what wonderful, fun-filled afternoons they have when they go out. I had to resist the temptation to tell then how ridiculous they sounded. Oh well, I guess that they mean well.


August 28th

The next logical step following Harrad had to be Rimmer's most recent book, Proposition 31, about "corporate marriage"...

Again, I have pages of quotes that I'm not going to copy. But one of the strongest themes, for me, was the art and importance of effective communication.



"I want to be a real person. To be beautiful because I am me and there is no other me. To do my own thing in my own way, to find my own bag, to dream my own dreams. I want to look like me and do the things that fit me. No one else wears my size. -- Unknown

1969 - July

July 6th

Thought I'd include a few poems and things that I've written since "Build a Wall" that are worth saving...

Fate is a child
Angry, innocent, mischievous
Playing at the game of life

Indecision and hesitation cannot be bought or sold;
Yet men have paid for them with their lives.
Hatred and greed are made of neither brick nor stone;
Yet empires have been built on them.
Anger, jealousy and fear are man's real enemies --
Primitive emotions that have begun to destroy him
before he ever held a gun or a knife...

Algebra
Sitting in algebra
Chewing languidly on the tip of my pencil.
The eraser crumbs taste bitter.

Equations and square roots, so
evasive to this tired mind; numbers
gawking at me from the board.

Tracing imaginary figures on the desk.
Sunshine, happiness --
not tangible, but yet more so than
Algebra.

Innocence, kneeling in the wet sand, struggling to build a tower of shells while the shadowy firgure of Hate and his companion, Fear, slip past the guard unnoticed -- except by Hope. Quickly she spreads the alarm and the forces of Good hurry to the aid of Innocence. But it is too late. The tower of shells has been smashed to the ground. Hate and Fear sneer at the defenselessness of Innocence...but what is this? A solitary figure, picking up the tiny fragments one by one. She pauses to weep over the fallen figure of Innocence and then begins to piece the tower together. Hate and his companion are silent and then Fear starts to whimper; he is afraid of what he cannot understand. Love comes to fear and gently soothes him. He smiles and is gently rocked to sleep by Patience. Hate, without his companion, slips from the bright light and drifts back into the darkness from whence he came to contemplate the end of Innocence.


July 19th

[At Rosewood] So tired. Pembroke C practice for demonstration in Recreation Room Basement of Wyse Cottage. Relay races. Some of the kids are as precious as they can be. Chicken, Schmitzy, Sherry (my name?), Joni with her shrieking and Ramona with her little tricks. Debby of B group made me feel like a positive idiot. I wrote the wrong date and date at the top of my schedule report and she caught my mistake. Oh well. *Yawn* Simms fractured her foot or something so perhaps no Long Term visits for awhile. That might be nice.

Nursery Building I next -- yuck. Mrs. High is nicer that I remember her last year though. I guess that I just didn't know her. Miss Coleman is especially good, too. She takes time to explain the hows and whys of what she's doing. This year's crop of Mental Health students seem a little better adjusted than we were. I feel partly responsible for this and it's a good feeling. Remember -- "We're gonna move fast now!" and "Let Me See You Make a Motion". It's great to see the kids smile and laugh. And watch Chicken walk.

Nursery I wasn't as bad as I remember except for that sickeningly sweet smell. The kids were a little cleaner and certainly more active. The were also better suprevised...My good deed for the day -- I rescued a nest of baby birds from some little Stump boys who were throwing rocks at them...Benzinger basement -- WOW. I must've toughened up a lot since last year, but still...strait jackets in abundance this summer but at least the place was a little cleaner.


July 21st

The Harrad Experiment by Robert H. Rimmer -- God, what it's done to me, or should I say done for me! In one unbelievable Sunday afternoon, it's catapaulted me out of the emotional rut that I've been in and revitalized my whole philosophy of life as well as my relationship with Don. The book has taken Stranger a step further and developed a kind of pragmatic idealisn. Some of the ideas and beliefs are so fantastic because of their accurate observations on human nature that I'm gonna take the next few pages and write them down...

[There are so many pages here that I couldn't copy them all. It's basically about a college curriculum emphasizing the union of sex and spirituality presented to a group of freshman students at a progressive school.]




July 26th

Love is blue
Orange and yellow
Muted shades of
Girl and Fellow.
Dabbling in the violet cream
Finger-painting a flourescent dream.
--Nonsensical rubbish

I think that I should start to keep a diary of my dreams...I was thinking over the most important people and events that have had an effect on my life in the past 2 years and I came up with this, in chronological order: #1 - cross-country tour, #2 - Northwest Tutorial Alliance, #3 - Paul, #4 - Don, #5 - Judy, #6 - JCT, #7 - Stranger , #8 - Mrs. Stern, #9 - Rosewood -- Mr. Byrd & Mrs. Riley, #10 - Jackie, #11 - "HAIR", #12 - this Thought Book, #13 - Mr. Simmons, #14 - The Harrad Experiment.

I'll never forget the first words of Neil Armstrong when the LEM touched down on the moon's surface for the first time. They still give me the chills: "Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed."



Well, the place is pretty packed up now but other than an occasional twinge of revulsion at the thought of someone else living here, I feel mostly numb. Rosewood, Don, and the novelty of getting ready to clear out has kept my mind pretty busy. At times I even feel a sort of detached amusement. maybe I'm cracking up...and with a mixture of sadness and excited anticipation, entering a new phase of life.

How about that! second row seats at Columbia for the Association concert! Sloppy luck...that's what Don and I have...sloppy luck. Show was fantastic though. My eardrums felt like they were made of cotton but those boys sure can pack a wallop. And the Echoes really surprised me. Not only was the group as a whole great, but the lead singer was precious with an unbelievable voice. The harmony of The Association was even more beautiful in person and they really deserved the stnding ovation they got. I liked the rain that night -- kind of personal and muddy funny.

Stanley and Livingston are just too much. They stayed over here for the day and were both entertained and entertaining. Such personalities! Stanley is still pretty homely-looking -- half bald, scrawny and with buck teeth. Obnoxious too. Livingston, although more handsome is hardly an angel either. He's a pig at mealtime and torments Sanley when it's time to go to sleep by  putting his arms around him and lying half on top of him. But they're still cute as hell. "Monkeys yet; oy vey" - Grandma.



The story behind the monkeys is that Don and I went to the pet store to get a hamster. Somehow we came home with a squirrel monkey -- a sale that is, rightly, prohibited today. We went back to get a second, and so we had Stanley and Livingston. I have to give it to Bunny; she was a saint for taking care of the remaining monkey, Livingston, when Don went back to school. Stanley is buried in my old backyard.

And as the memory of Judy Lang sinks slowly in the west...The Totem Picnic was full of surprises, with my near fatal encounter with a poisonous copperhead, and Judy's sudden "about-face". She was the model of a best friend and the four of us had a good time playing badminton. Well, whatever caused this abrupt change of attitude certainly didn't last long because I haven't heard from her since. Then again, neither has Barbara, Joan or Joie, but still...Don wanted to call her about the monkeys but I really hope that he doesn't. I know that it's not fair for me to interfere in his relationship with her, whatever that may be now, but I want no part of her unless she shows some interest by making the first move. I wonder how she'll act when we meet again at a summer party or the Sign-In.


July 28th

I'm sitting here in my room, supposedly packing, on this humid, wet and dreary Monday morning. I stayed home from work to finish up some odds and ends on what will probably be my last morning to be alone at 3622 Forest Garbage Avenue. I probably shouldn't be writing this because it's only gonna set me off again, but hell, I'm just in too weird of a mood. I'm so mixed up...

"Getting to know someone, entering that new world, is an ultimate, irretrievable leap into the unknown. The prospect is terrifying. The stakes are high. The emotions are overwhelming. The two people are reluctant really to strip themselves naked in front of each other, because in doing so they make themselves vulnerable and give enormous power over themselves to the other. How often they inflict pain and torment upon each other! Better to maintain shallow, superficial affairs; that way the scars are not too deep. No blood is hacked from the soul.

But I do not believe a beautiful relationship has to end always in carnage, or that we have to be fraudulent and pretentious with one another. If we project fraudulent, pretentious images, or if we fantasize each other into distorted caricatures of what we really are, then, when we awake from the trance and see beyond the sham and front, all will dissolve, all will die or be transformed into bitterness and hate. I know that sometimes people fake on each other out of genuine motives to hold onto the object of their tenderest feelings. They see themselves as so inadequate that they feel forced to wear a mask in order to continuously impress the second party.

I place a great deal of emphasis on people really listening to each other, to what the other person has to say, because I have a profound desire for communication with and getting to know other people. You see baby -- that's where it's at."  -- Eldridge Cleaver, Soul on Ice




"What is loneliness? Loneliness is when clouds in the sky become fog on the ground. Happiness is watching clouds move. Loneliness is watching the same clouds stand still."  - Danny Winn


Things I like:
cotton candy, sports cars, ice hockey, Bingo, Twister, jigsaw puzzles, swimming, watermelon, snowballs, puppies, monkeys, "Love is Blue", baby tangerines, sunsets, fishing, ping pong, stuffed animals, skateboards, paper cups, corn on the cob, my camera, milkshakes, spring, canaries, softball, butterflies, secret places, ducks, doxies, scotties, feeding squirrels, potato chips, chocolate pudding, summer rain, pigtails, exploring, guitars, Archie comics, life savers, tape recorders, circuses, tea pots, parades, bananas, tinsel, beach balls, toy trains, hamburgers, furry gloves, whistles, fairy tales, Ireland, "Romper Room", castles, crayons, cowboys, badminton, Shetland ponies, tennis shoes, bowling, minnows, harmonicas, tulips, Raggedy Ann,
banjos, row boats, bunnies, raspberries, sleeping bags, sand, yo yos, autumn, ocean waves, pin ball machines, crackerjack and popcorn, tic tac toe, Christmas trees, libraries, cardinals, lambs, peanuts, dragons, cherries, balloons, buttons, clouds, Happiness is a Warm Puppy, fur, safaris, the smell of magic markers, fuzzy bedroom slippers, my pillow, trained fleas, Mars, grandfather clocks, marbles, crystal balls, baby elephants, cherry tomatoes, my Batman doll, Almond Smash, rocking chairs, hot fudge sundaes, hot cocoa, fireplaces, tree houses, Easter eggs, Glad-Wrap, foam rubber, water pistols, plastic straws, donuts.