Tuesday, September 23, 2008

June 15, 1976 In which I talk about my dislike of Cousin Bob and end the Journal


12:58 pm

Why do I have such a terrible feeling about Bob? Why do I hate him so? For that is what this feeling is, this tight stomach, pounding temples, constricted throat. Yes, it is hate -- the worse of all emotions -- the evil demonic feeling inside.

I'm sure his feelings for me are not that of sisterly love. Nor cousinly love either, for that matter.

In only 23 days and a few hours I will be rid of him for two glorious months. Hopefully, soon after that, he will move out -- but that's only wishful thinking. He has disrupted our family. We fight more than ever. My father has bad moods more than ever.

But what's to be done? I wish I could get rid of all emotion -- like [to] feel nothing for him -- no love, no hate.

I asked God to help me I think. He has probably given me a solution, and I didn't catch it. I don't know.

What an awful note to end a journal on. Sad, very sad.

This is not much of a journal, althoug one of my best friends is met in here -- Woody। I probably didn't mention him much. My first year at college is in here too -- and Zayre (yuck).


Bob, of course, is my cousin. He was a difficult person to know. He had a volatile temper and it was often directed at me. Of course, I had a wicked temper too, so it was not just him.

He didn't show appreciation that my father spent long hours building him a room of his own.

And what was with that asking God thing? It must have bothered me to actually pray about it.

I've not seen him in years -- he spent Christmas Day with us at my parents house. We talked a little about our animosity back then and it seemed that he'd calmed down.

The next year my mom didn't call him and personally invite him (she told his mom to ask him) and he took that as an offense and didn't show up. I've not seen him since.

As for the end of the journal -- I normally tried to end journals on New Years Eve and then would write the highlights of the year on the last page. I guess I grew out of that.

June 12, 1976 In which I am calm and serene

7:30 am

I have just woken up. The sun is shining on the entire length of my bed and it is very warm, but there is a slight breeze. Now -- this is something I should be writing to Jeremy, but I need memories from this book too. (???)

I work 10 to 6 today. Full time hours. Yuck! But at least I don't dread it.

Only 26 more days to go! Zowie! I've got so much to do before I leave though. What am I going to do? I thikn I'll throw a robe over my shoulders pretty soon and go downstairs and make myself a large breakfast. Ummm. I didn't have any supper :-( so I am double hungry. This isn't a very good entry -- I just wnated to say that I felt calm and serene. I don't know why, unless it is because the birds are singing and a cool breeze is cooling me. I feel good -- now wait for work and I'll feel rotten. Perhaps not, one never knows. I'm just glad things are back to normal.


Nothing to write -- I guess I was happy that morning. 7:30 am seems early to have risen at age 19 though.

June 11, 1976 -- In which I'm bothered by a fellow employee

Only 27 more days!

I've decided to write tonight to add a little about a sad time in my life. -- Martin, the security guard at Zayre.

Mr. Martin--  a security guard at Zayre began to talk to me about things such as the weather. He asked me my name too. That was fine -- a friendly security guard. On June 8th he said I "looked great" in my new skirt, that I was a "very nice girl", and that he would like to see me "out of work" sometime -- like Saturday.  I said no and he seemed to take that as an answer. The next day he asked me again and spent his break with me and asked and asked. I said no and no and no. The next day he didn't say much. Finally today he said he wanted an answer. I gave it to him -- "No!". But he wouldn't buy that. Then he wanted my phone number, but I didn't give it to him. Finally I laid it down straight and explained about Jeremy. He finally got the message, but wants to "still be friendly". He's sweet but persistent (and old -- at least 30!).

What next? I've had my fill of men (exectp for Jeremy of course) for this year!!! :-)

Actually I think I led this guy on. He was not from the states --  he was from Pakistan -- so either he didn't believe me or had some preconceived ideas about women from the states.

I didn't mention that Martin called me at home. I got scared and told my dad to answer the phone the next time it rang. He did and told Martin to stop calling or he'd call the police.

Martin didn't talk to me after that.

I like how I said he was old -- at least 30. Heh.