May 16, 1974 In Which I Have Doubts about Love

Thursday

8:20 pm

Here I am, sitting in my room twelve days after I bid Jeremy adieu. Time really flew fast. Why? Now I know how fast my time in England will fly. But, then, if we still love each other as much as we do now - - - - - Do I love him? I must be honest with myself. I am flattered by his attentions but is it true love? I feel that I am lying each time I say that I love him. I know how much I want him - but is want as good as love? Will I be able to wait six long years for Jez? It is a long time. I can't imagine feeling this way for anyone else. I wish I knew if it was really love. I heard once that if you had any doubt at all it couldn't be love. I have doubt sometimes. But when I read his letters I know I love him, I think. Maybe I am not ready for any commitments but don't want him to be around other girl for fear of finding one he likes better than me.

Maybe Debbie K. is right. She said that I like him because he touched me. He did - that's true - but after I told him that I loved him. I have never in my life told a guy that I love him. But I told Jeremy. Jeff once told me he loved me. I said he was crazy. Almost I feel that Jeremy is at the end of a long and straight road with many misfortunes on it. There are other roads leading off of it and there I could find happiness with little trouble but I have a chance on great love or great troubles at the end of the road. If I would just wait six years for Jez and feel guilty any time I was out with any other guy all those long years Jez could at the last minute say, "I love you Doner but I have found my real Galadriel." Then I would have missed out on a lot of life, waiting for a disappointment. I won't be the one to tell Jez how I feel if I feel it won't work out. I couldn't hurt myself that way.

I have gone farther with him than any other boy, Altough I didn't go far with him.

I just wonder how many other girls Jez has said "I love you" to. Maybe lots, maybe none. Who knows? What about that girl in Wales? Oh well, I am probably working for nothing.

Here I traced the bird pendant given to me by Dan T's father. It was probably a "dove of peace" but I labeled it "J. L. Seagull ?" I also drew some of those m's and upside down v's that kids used for birds. Finally I wrote out Jeremy's full name.

Note

This entry really needs no note. As will be seen, I did exactly to Jeremy what I feared he'd do to me. I waited 5 years and said, basically: "Thanks but no thanks. I've gotten tired of you."

April 26, 1974I n which life goes up and down

Oh my gosh! I have neglected thee for so long! What a crazy entry I just read. What made me say those things?

Life has been going up and down this past week like crazy. I am now in a down period. Sort of - it is nice now though. At least I know Vilma and I are still going to be friends... What happened was last Saturday Jeff told me that Vilma felt like she wanted to live somewhere else. It made me very mad. I then decided to hate Jeff and Vilma and anyone else in the picture. I said something to Mr. Jenkins...

Note:

Have I even explained this whole thing yet? In the spring of 1974 a bevy of British grammar school students came to visit Larkin High School. We hosted them and they would, in turn, host us during the summer (with a few exceptions).

My assigned student was Vilma C. She was pretty, and tall and very mature. She worked with Jeremy's father at the library. She immediately attracted the attention of a few boys, some of whom I'd had my eyes on. First and forefront was Jeff. I'd had a crush on him since sixth grade and watched him hang out with other girls, but rarely me. He and I were beginning to get somewhat close until Vilma came. I went ballistic. (you laugh, but I mean it) I threw some major temper tantrums.

One day when mom was elsewhere, Vilma got a phone call from Jeff. I answered and he implied that if he and Vilma didn't get together he was going to kill himself. I didn't think to worry about his mental state. I just screamed "F**k You" into the telephone.

That must have done it for Vilma because she requested a change of host family. It also elicited a home visit from the assistant principal and a few other officials from the school. I'm not sure what happened at the meeting, but a question of my levels of rage was addressed. Whatever, it scared my mom.

I probably should have been banned from the trip -- I believe that it was up to me to find myself a host family, otherwise I would not be able to go.

I didn't know all of this at the time. All I knew was that five years of desire wasted when Jeff fell for Vilma.

I never told my mom that I said the "F-word" on the phone. It was so taboo it was unthinkable. (until a few years later when my dad worked for a trucking company and became part of the teamsters, but that's another story).

April 19, 1974In which I am comforted by two guys at the same time

I really have so much to catch up on.

Yes, Vilma has arrived and so has Chris. Vilma and I began to get along. We are friendly and have so much in common. But I am angry, now a little bit. This afternoon Jeff left me and I bawled them both out. To make a long story short, Jeff and Vilma really are going strong. We just were at a movie and they were wow! at the end of our aisle. Anyway, Dan and Chris came in late and after the movie I was pissed at Vilma so I went with Dan and Chris. I told them how she and Jeff were carrying on and Chris put his arm through mine and we went to Dan's car. I rode with Dan and Chris. Chris was holding me first, then Dan, then Chris held my hand, then Dan the rest of the time. I have now decided I hate the kid of person I am and I want to have fun. Dan asked me to the dance. He said that everyone had to have something to drink. I will too, so what? I hate being so great! Chris is wonderful!

Note:

Oh my God. Was I that blind to not see what was going on? No, I think I was just selfish. Dan liked me. He wanted me to go to the dance with him. Yet all I could say in my journal was how much I liked Chris. How could that have made Dan feel? And it gets worse later on.

Dan hosted Chris, but could not go to England for his junoir year with the rest of us for some reason. He ended up going later I think. I hung out with Dan sometimes. I remember once going to a party where people were playing a Lord of the Rings game. I'd thought I was alone in liking that series. (this was after this journal entry - by a year or so).

I don't remember what dance Dan asked me to that year. I'm assuming it had something to do with the English exchange students though.

I hate the kind of person I was, I said. What kind of person was that? Probably a prude - someone who never did anything wrong, and looked down on people who smoked and drank and had sex.

I'd forgotten about this particular day - the movie and car ride with Dan and Chris. I have no way of knowing now if this was innocent and they were comforting me or if it was some sort of signal for something I knew nothing about.

March 20, 1974In which I have lots to look forward to

Wednesday

9:20 pm

I just got home from work and I bought a pen. I wanted to try it out so I guess my journal is the best place for that.

Nothing out of this world great or bad has happened lately. I am going to an art festival next month about C. S. Lewis by the author of Images of His World. I was so excited when I heard about it I wanted to run home and tell my mom. I restrained myself until after sixth hour when I ran out of gym and asked Greg for a ride home.

As far as Greg and I go -- nothing. He's nice and I enjoy being with him. That is just about it. He looks at me like a friend, and old friend reunited, and I should do the very same. I thought he was going to ask me out once-- but I guess he had second thoughts.

I don't understand why I always like a guy if he pays attention to me. It's nice to kid around with others, but he and I are just friends!!!

Just think, only twenty-three more days until Vilma comes. I am really getting excited about that. I have so many things to look forward to:

1. Vilma
2. C.S. Lewis Workshop
3. England
4. Map of Narnia
5. Visit with Mrs. Dyson
6. and other, smaller things.

Oh yes! I forgot about Debbie coming Wednesday. That will be a lot of fun.

Note:

I looked ahead in the journal and it seems as if I never wrote about the festival where I met Clyde S. Kilby. I believe it was entitled Bilbo Baggins' Birthday Party or something like that. It took place at Dekalb High School in Dekalb, Illinois. I went with my friend Jeff and remember only a few things about the day:

• Jeff doing an impression of a butler (or slave?) from a Shirley Temple movie, dancing up and down the marble steps at the school.
• Eating poppy seed cakes
• Listening to Clyde S. Kilby talk in the auditorium and having him sign my book afterwards.

Years later I dated someone who went to that school and was there that day.

I must have ordered the map of Narnia - I had it for years, but somehow lost it. That's too bad because it is a collectible now.
The Vilma fiasco will be described later, so no need to discuss it now.

I think Mrs. Dyson was the social worker at the school. I was considering becoming a social worker, and met with her to talk about what it took to become one. Because she was one of the few blacks on staff, I think part of my interest was to connect to someone of a different race than I was.

January 22, 1974In which I am someone's birthday present

Tuesday
9:10 pm

Life seems to have taken a turn for the worse with me -- or at least my attitude toward it has. Quite a bit has happened since my last entry. I still love my job. But some other experiences connected with it are not so nice. I would like to write down my "date" on Friday, but it is too long and complicated. I think that there is really little chance of forgetting it. I only know now that whenever I think about Dan T. I feel sick. Dumb, Dumb, Dumb!!!

Another sad thing is a closing of a chapter for me. Boys, at least for the time being. I know Gary is completely out of reach. Bob, I found out today, is cold toward me. Jeff is still friendly -- but differently. The only person I still have hope in is Dan F. Today I practically told him and the entire yearbook staff my feelings toward him. I said something like he is a great guy or person or something. I also had a long awaited chance to tell Chris C. what I thought of her.

Teaching isn't so important to me any longer. I think I am discouraged because of everything that has happened to me lately and I am blaming it on TAP or something.

Why do I feel smothered? I really don't have troubles. I don't quite know. Life is cruel. The best things in life are the simple pleasures. The worst things then are simple problems that attack and attack endlessly.

Note:
The "date" mentioned in the first paragraph was one of the most interesting things that happened to me in my youth. I'm annoyed with my past self that I didn't write it down. I don't remember being that upset by it. How many other people can say they were someone's birthday present?

One Friday afternoon while I was working at Ben Franklin a tall man walked up to me and asked if I'd like to be his son's birthday present. I don't remember my initial reaction, but after talking about it I agreed to do it, only if he talked to my family first. It seems as if, as he walked out of his house to go to the dime store, he asked his son if there was anything he wanted from the store. I guess the son replied, "Yeah, bring me a cute checkout girl," so the father thought it would be a funny prank to actually bring a "check-out girl" home for his son's party.

I'd heard of the son. If he had been wildly popular I would have said no, but since he was not much higher than I was on the teen-aged scale of popularity, I agreed to do it. Mr. T (who later I would learn was the music director of my Grandmother Patrick's church) drove me to my house so he could meet my parents and assure them I would be safe. I wanted to change my clothes, but he wanted me in my ugly blue uniform. I did bring along a change of clothes though.

We drove to his house and he presented me to Dan. Dan was surprised and seemed to be amused. The family seemed to do this sort of thing a lot. I remember that dinner was chicken. They ate it by cutting it with knives and forks. I'd never eaten chicken that way before.

I think we then went to a football game or basketball game and then came back to the T. house for a party. It turned out that Dan was a little more popular than I'd expected. I remember not having a very good time at the party, so that is probably why I felt weird about it and didn't want revisit it in my journal.

Dan and I actually remained friends of a sort until graduation. I heard he went to the Naval Academy in Annapolis. His father died of a brain tumor when I was in college; I heard about it from a teacher at Highland School when I was doing a brief teaching practice there.

A quick search on the Internet tells me that Dan is a "weapons engineer" now living in Georgia. He may work at Robins AFB. He is a runner and has finished at least two marathons in the past six months.

I'm sorry that I was nasty to Chris C. She was a pretty nice person. I guess I had/have a problem with authority. She was head of the yearbook staff, I think, and probably told me to do something I didn't want to do.

January 9, 1974In which I do a lot in a few days

Wednesday
9:45 pm

Lots has happened since I wrote last. I began work, I went tobogganing, I broke my glasses, I am getting wire-rims. Jeff called again, I talked to Bob for a while.

Now to separate these happenings:

Chronologically -

Sunday I went tobogganing with Cindy, Carol, Gail and Leslie. I nearly killed myself! Carol S. and I went down standing up and fell off! I finally stopped after I got the wind knocked out of me, nearly broke my neck and almost broke my hip. Then to get the toboggans back home, Cindy and Gain sat on the outside of the car and held the sleds on the top. it was fun though.

Then on Monday as I walked into school I broke my glasses. They just snapped. Luckily I was able to get an appointment right away and I ordered brass "gold coaster's oval" shaped.

Tuesday night I went to work for the first time. I met everyone in the store. The only people I remember are Pat S. and Lori. Lori is very nice. She is out of school. Pat is nice also. Dan teases an awful lot. But he is quite nice too. One conversation between us was:

Me: I suppose you want me to move.
D: No, I am just sweeping around the boxes.
Me: Oh
Dan: What does that say? On your necklace. pointing
Me: You figure it out
Dan: I am me. That is what I thought it said. But I didn't know who would wear something like that.
Me: I would
Dan: At first I thought it said, 'try me' but I didn't think Dona would be wearing that.
Me: You never know.

---

Dumb as it was, it was one of the most intelligent ones we have had. His mother had a baby girl. This is number 13.

Then also last night Bob came in. We had a nice talk. I shook like a leaf though.

Tonight after I took a shower the phone rang and Jeff's voice said, "Hi whatcha doing?" The rest of the conversation was normal!!!

Note:
Of all the busy things that happened that week, the only one I remember is the tobogganing. I had a tube of chapstick in my front pocket and remember falling on it after going down the hill standing up on the sled. I also remember the ride home, holding onto the toboggan on the top of the car. It is sad that I remember this because most teens had adventures like this all the time. They were so rare for me that this one left an impression.

January 5, 1974In which I'm set free

Saturday
5:29 pm

Happy Birthday to Bob today!
Happy Birthday to Jeff yesterday!

Remember I wasn't going to think about past "loves"? Well, that is impossible. I need something of that sort to think about.

Getting off of that subject, I will tell some good news: I begin to work at Ben Franklin Tuesday. I am very happy. Other goodish news is that I am all through with Dr. Rushing! He removed my bottom retainer today and said that he was turning me loose! Great! But I was in too rotten of a mood even to be a little happy. Life today has been good and bad.

Note:
Obviously, since I'm still re-reading my journals, I never did get over "thinking about past loves".

You may have figured out that Dr. Rushing was my orthodontist. I'm actually surprised that I still had a retainer, because I thought I had braces in eighth grade. They probably should have kept the retainer on my teeth since the bottom ones are a little crooked - crowded actually.

December 31, 1973In which I say goodbye to 1973

Monday

Well I can write 1973 now -- but in less than two hours I won't be able to truthfully. I have to write my "New Year Resolutions". I haven't really thought a great deal about them - but I have formed vague ideas. The first and foremost I think is to be myself. I think that last year my resolution was to be perfect or something like that. That was really stupid -- I realize that now. I think that being myself is as perfect as I am ever going to become. Other ideas are to be honest and not talk about boys and my past. I realize, with mother's help, that people don't care about what happened to me. So I will try to improve my listening power. I will also try harder in school -- since I have such "easy" courses why flunk out of them? I am not going to act silly -- and if I catch myself doing it I will stop and apologize to others as well as myself. I will stop swearing in my head and in private. It isn't healthy. I am sure that there are other things that I ought to improve upon, but I can't think of them right now. But whenever I can think of something that will make me a better person I may "try it on for size and see if it fits". Now I am going to litter the back of this paper with little thoughts of 1973!

Goodbye '73, I'll never forget ya! :-(

Note:
Interesting resolutions. I'm still working on quite a few of those.

I'll try to scan the back of the paper. I've written '73 MEMORIES '73 at the top in black marker. Then in a rainbow of colors I've written many memories from the preceding year.

Brookfield Zoo
Romeo and Juliet
Dan F
TAP
Driving (Mr P)
"monster mash"
Bob W.
Gregg
Progressive Dinner
Fox Valley Roller Rink
Gary C
Ruby Red Dress
"Fiddler on the Roof" (2)
Jeff Y
"Leroy Brown"
DEATH
Ben Franklin?
England?
KISS smak

Not sure about the color coding, but it seems as if my hopes were written in yellow. The words were all over the page - upside down, slanted, sideways -- not in a list. Words that were related were sometimes intertwined like Fox Valley Roller Rink and Gary C.

December 30, 1973In which I write about a year of firsts and a disturbing incident

I had better write now - in case I forget to tomorrow. There is so much to say and not much paper on which to say it. I will begin by remembering important times of the past year - "1973". It was filled with firsts - both good and bad - mostly good though.

The first first I suppose was my first telephone call from a guy. The guy - none other than Gary C. The next first was first date - Gary again. Then a few months later came my first real boyfriend - Robert W. With that relationship came my first kiss. Then a few days later came my first close death - Grandpa Green. I drove for the first time too. Another first was the first time a guy came to visit me (Jeff Y. it was!) Then came the first time I applied for a job (at Zayre).

I think I learned a lesson from each first and although each day of the past year wasn't bright and sunny, the year on the whole was superb!

Another exciting thing is that is coming up is my trip. This summer I, Dona Lee Patrick, am going to England. I am quite happy -- but nervous. And sort of apprehensive because it seems too good to be true.

Oh -- something not so grand happened Christmas Eve. Uncle Quay was drunkish as usual. When we walked in the house he gave me a "Merry Christmas" kiss which was all right. But was it all right when later he confronted me in the hall and tried to kiss me again? He didn't succeed but instead patted my behind and wasn't fast to remove his hand. Then when I was leaving Pam's room he just happened to be there and pulled me into the doorway of the bedroom (which luckily was closed) and tried to hug me or something. He had his arm around my neck and wasn't going to let me go. He did though and I ran down the steps. I was really frightened -- but I haven't told mother yet. I don't think I should because she will really blow up I think.

Note:
It was my custom to write in my journal on the last day of the year just before the clock struck midnight. Either I had not started that tradition or I thought I had too much about which to write in order to do it properly.

This was a post that I wasn't sure I would upload. At least the last paragraph. It took me decades to forgive my uncle, and I only did so after his suicide. I am still furious about it, however.

I eventually told my mother. I don't exactly recall her reaction, but I think it wasn't the "Oh my God Dona. That is terrible. That should never have happened to you." I think she said that my uncle was notorious for making passes at people.

While we are on the subject of older men making passes at younger girls and I've read ahead in my journal and not found mention of this, my guitar teacher also made a pass at me during a guitar lesson. It may have been the lesson where I met "Tim", but it may have been later, but I think "Tim" was there, but in another room.

Mr. T had been asking me about boys and if I had a boyfriend. I said I didn't and that I liked some boys as friends. He then leaned over and kissed me on the lips. I was stunned and confused, but as soon as he left the room I got up and left. I think I told "Tim" to tell Mr T I had to go home. I didn't return for guitar lessons after that. I didn't' tell my mother about that either until much later. She did seem to get upset about that, and said it was good that I had not told my father because he would have probably confronted Mr T. That too, still makes me furious. Mr T also met a grisly end. He died when his trailer home burned up. I believe I heard that he was somehow locked in. It can't have been a good way to die.

I should feel bad that my uncle stuck a rifle in his mouth and pulled the trigger and Mr T died a painful death, trapped in his trailer. Part of me does feel a little bad. I don't feel glad anymore (although I did at first). I just don't really feel anything about either of those men's deaths.

November 16, 1973In which I feel restless and icky

Thursday

I can't figure out what is wrong. I feel restless and icky tonight. I tried to clean up my room because that usually calms me down. It didn't work. Nothing spectacular happened today.

Jeff and Carol are going to qwe tomorrow. What! I have already said that I don't really care about Jeff. I just wish that he didn't call. I wouldn't feel so blah about him.

I met Tim finally. Mr T. introduced us tonight. He is quite good looking. Maybe that keyed me up. I told Mrs. T. about that guy grabbing me -- I had to tell someone.

I think that I am depressed. Why? I don't really know. I had an average day -- no real bad compliments or any great ones. A girl called me a bitch today though. But to make up for that I made friends with the black girl - Cheryl C. today in CD.

I never wrote about Lori's grandmother I don't think -- well she passed away Tuesday. Looking back I see that I did include that in my last entry.

I wish someone would write so I could write back to them.

Note:
Mr T. was my guitar teacher and neighbor. He was in a country and western band. I babysat his kids (I've mentioned Chad in this journal). He was also somehow related to Greg who will be making more of an appearance later in the journal.

Tim was another of Mr. T's guitar students. The lessons took place in the T. home, two doors down from me. They began in the basement - my brother also took lessons for a while, but for some reason he either quit or since we shared the same guitar we took lessons on different days. Anyway for some reason the lessons migrated upstairs to the bedroom which was off the living room.

I think that Mr T had arranged for Tim and me to take lessons together because he was trying to set us up. Either before or after this particular lesson Mr T asked me about boyfriends. I replied something along the lines of "I'm not interested in boyfriends. I just want to be friends with boys right now."

I wonder what Mrs T's reaction was to my news about the guy grabbing me. I see her now and then when I visit Elgin. She works at a restaurant nearby. They moved from that house years ago. She and Mr T divorced. I'll related more about them later. I'm pretty certain Mr T is going to come up again.

November 13, 1973In which I don't say much

Tuesday

I really have lots to say but I don't feel like it.

Lori's grandmother died today. I could really feel for her. I haven't talked to Jeff since Sunday night. I dread the next time we meet or talk. He is so stupid and immature. Bob is more mature than Jeff is.

I'll have a busy weekend coming up - Friday I am going to the Play. Saturday I might go to House on the Rock, but I doubt it. Saturday evening I am going to Kris C.'s surprise birthday party and Sunday is Grandma's party.

I wish I could figure out what I feel for Dan F. I think I love him.

Note:
Kris C. was someone I knew from yearbook staff. She was down to earth and I think probably pretty smart.

The loving Dan F. is news to me. Stay tuned to see how that one turned out.

November 9, 1973In which I am toyed with

Lots has been happening to me lately. Too much at one time, I guess. I will begin with Monday night.

I was watching a movie on television when the phone rang. I answered it. It was Jeff Y. I was very happy because he wanted me to like him because he liked me, We talked for about forty-five minutes. We met Tuesday and he walked me to a class. He waited and talked to me for a while at my room. Tuesday night he called and told me that he loved me! We made plans to see Billy Jack the next day. Wednesday was a half day and I wasn't going to school at all. Neither was Jeff. I was excited about seeing the movie. Then I looked in the paper and realized that it wasn't on in the daytime. Just then Jeff called. He coughed and said that he woke up with a sore throat and was sick. He hoped I would understand. Mother and I made pumpkin pie all day.

Wednesday night Jeff called again and asked for my address. I told him and he came over. I looked a mess. We had a blast! Then later he took my hand and touched my leg. He left.

Thursday we walked from C.D. to my locker and he said see ya. Thursday night he didn't even call. Today I avoided him and I saw him at the game tonight. I don't think he saw me though. He could have asked me to go to the game with him. I was really depressed tonight. I know that it is over. A week! A lousy fucking week.

I saw Bob there too. That cheered me up a bit. Beth K. and Ruth and Richard were there. We won 17 - 0. I was really happy about that but I felt like crying about Jeff.

Dan hasn't brought me the book yet. Bob won't talk to me. Gary just stares at me. I really am in a rut. Oh well, I had fun while it lasted --------- a week!

Note:
I don't remember any of this except the fact that Jeff and I were going to see a movie but it was not playing the day we were going to see it. I have a suspicion Jeff was playing with me - and I think that it had to do with Maureen, his friend. I may be wrong, but I never felt right around her, even though she was nice enough. They were both from well-to-do families, compared to mine.

Date unknown, Spring 1973In which I agonize. A lot.

Maybe if I write about it I can understand my true feelings. This will probably sound dumb in future years but it is important to me now. I am now sitting in the most comfortable place I know of. My tree. My little "bedroom" in my apple tree. Up here I see signs of my childhood. carved on a limb - standing for vampires. D & J (Dona & Jeff).

Anyway, today I looked through an old yearbook in Ceurlean (last year's). One from Kimball. I saw pictures of Gary and Robin told me that he had won the Golden Hammer award. Good for him. He is not what I am troubled about. My upset still lies at Kimball, but is our paperboy. At least for today. He may not even be today's. He is quitting the paper route and I am sad. Yes- admit it Dona, you like him. You know you do. I want to like him as a friend -- but something in me wants to KISS him. I cannot figure it out. He isn't very cute - he has got a baby-face. But he is so friendly. And he has such a grand smile. Why? Why can't I realize that he isn't just smiling at me. He smiles at everyone because he is friendly - a very friendly person.

Today will be the last time he delivers a paper to my house maybe. Oh - why do I do this to myself? I am just an idiot I suppose.

I cannot talk to my mother about it because she will say too many things I don't agree with. I don't dare to tell Cindy -- she would seem bored anyway.

Now I will go and make a fool of myself on the porch or something. What a fool I am. And then there are times when I pretend. I have a pretend conversation with him. Am I mad? Probably.

Now I am down from the tree. I have just picked a rose and brough down Romeo and Juliet. I don't even care if he comes by. I don't love him. I love life, grass, flowers, books, birds, sky sunshine that warms me. I am not in love and never have been not ev----------------------------------------------------------------------------

He just came by. My heart is pounding. In my stomach?

"Hey. Wanna see my big dog?"
"You have a dog?"
"Yeah, a poodle"
"Is he big?"
"No, he's a toy"
etc....

No more pretending! I can do it alone. Although he doesn't say the things he would in my dreams, it was fine. Fine? I have already said that I am not in love. And I'm not. I just need to prove to myself I can talk to the opposite sex without fumbling.

Now to work on Jeff again -- although I can talk to him pretty well.

I had better go help mother fix dinner.

---

Now I don't know my feelings. Bob delivered our paper today -- for the last time. I went to the door to get the paper and he turned around and asked me if I wanted to see his "big dog". didn't realize what he meant so he said that he would bring it down later. I said ok and he left. My heart was pounding and I ran upstairs and decided I had to go to the bathroom and ran back downstairs. I kept on assuring myself that I didn't really like him, That he is only a friend. But I couldn't stop my heart from pounding. I rushed around the house like a madwoman. I probably am mad.

Well, mom dad and Kevin got home. My stomach was still jumping. Well anyway he came with his dog -- Coco - and asked me to his house to see his other dog. We walked there and I went in and saw their kittens and dog. On the way there, I told him I was a soph. He seemed turned off. Good. He didn't even walk me home. It has helped me to write about it, really.

Why do I make such a big think out of something small? My dear mother just "defamilized" me. Yester was big, wow. I woke up late, and a while later we left for the store (Jewel-Osco). But before we went there I drove! Daddy took the care into the country and let me take over. It was really fun. Later when we got home I worked on my English final. Then at 3:00 we went to another store (Sears) and I got a racket. We got home after a while and after supper Daddy watned to fix the dishwasher so Mother, Kevin, Franz and I took a walk around the block. When we got to the corner, kitty-corner from Bob's house he came over.

No more to write about. He does like me. I wasn't making a big thing out of nothing ---------- it's something. What to do???

---

Time to write more this being written two weeks from the first entry - Bob has asked me to go steady. About a week ago (more really) and I turned him down. I have emotions too strong to keep inside. He is so immature - he can't even read. If only he would let me help him with his reading problem maybe, maybe what? He doesn't even remember my name -- he calls me Diane?. I wish I could know what to do. I haven't seen him to talk to since Wednesday -- this is Saturday.

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Some more clear thinking needed. I am back in the tree, trying to sort out my feelings. Shall I go back to the beginning? No, I have been over that too much already. No, I don't love Bob. I did love Gary, or loved love in his case -- but I only mildly like Bob. I think that he likes me a bit more than mildly.

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Note:

I may have already written some of the above in the journal, there are some pages that fell out and it all seems familiar. Some non-Bob points - notice what I call my parents in most of these entries. I call my father "Daddy" and my mother "mother". This was a rough time for my mother and me. We butted heads a lot. Whereas my father was not around so much, therefore he and I had a smoother relationship. The Franz that is mentioned in the post is our toy dachhound. Which is also why Bob referred to his dog as big, I think.

It amuses me to read this post. I love the part where I had pretend conversations with Bob, then had a real one that was very stupid. Then I analyze the conversation and remark that Bob doesn't say the things he did in my dreams.

May 7, 1973In which I see my grandpa

[Listening to: Teenage Angst - Dan Bern

Well, I got it over with! I saw my grandfather for the first time since his leg was amputated. It was just like everyone said - all right. He hadn't changed - he doesn't smile as much - but that is to be expected. I found something else about him that I had never known before - he is a poet. {wonderful}

I found some love poems he wrote to my grandmother. The first one made me cry - it was just before or after they were married. There was another one about her hair was growing gray (just a bit of it). Then - I found one about me! I was the first grandchild - so he wrote his feelings about me.

I took my journal up - but didn't write in it.

Before school Jeff talked to me. I had a crush on him in 6th, 7th, 8th and 9th grades. Last year he read this journal and I almost killed him. Today he asked me about my journal. {and what did you say?}

Note:
I remember the trip to see my grandparents. I didn't realize I found the poems then though. I ended up taking the one about me when I visited the cabin many years later during my honeymoon.

I wonder who has the poems, if anyone does. My uncle sold the property with everything included. His interpretation of that was with photos and everything. My mom and dad snuck up and took garbage bags full of personal things before the new owners took over.

Edited 3/11/05 - I spoke to my mother yesterday and she had no idea that her father wrote poems for her mother. She fears they are gone with all of the personal belongings. We hope my aunt has them.

April 13, 1973In which I learn about Betsy's illness

Friday

I want to begin this sooner than we have time because there is so much I have to write about.

I have learned a very strong lesson about life. For last night I learned that a very dear friend of mine has Leukemia. I am not as good a friend of hers this year as I was last, but that makes no difference. It still hit me very hard. The lesson I learned is about beauty. I have always thought of Betsy as being homely, but last night I found that she has a beauty all of her own. She is very brave to have an article like she had in the paper because now everyone in the school knows.

I remember last year when she sat at our lunch table. She wore a wig and wouldn't tell us why. The article was very touching and I'll bet that not many eyes were dry after they read that if they know her.

Note:
This entry was really a lie to myself. I was sad, but I also was not a good friend to her, nor would I end up being. I remember reading this article. In fact I still have the article in a scrap album.

Betsy was not a dear friend of mine. She and I sat at the same lunch table for at least one year. She and Jeff (my 6th grade crush) were good friends, perhaps even girlfriend/boyfriend. I mentioned her earlier in the journal. I was jealous that Jeff liked her and not me. It turned out that Jeff knew about the illness.

I also remember the wig incident. Betsy came to the lunch table wearing a wig. It was obvious and I said in a voice loud enough for her to hear, "Betsy looks so much better without the wig". I felt pretty bad about what I said after reading the article that mentioned how mean some girls at school were to her regarding the wig. I don't think it meant comments like mine, but I was in no way supportive of her that year.

Betsy died the following year when I was on a boating trip on the Chicago river with the British students who were visiting. I never visited Betsy in the hospital. My friend Lori told me that Betsy died in the middle of me telling her about holding hands with one of the British students during the bus ride back home.

This might be a good time to mention the lunch table. When I began junior high school I ate lunch during a period in which none of my friends ate. It was my first experience having lunch at school because in elementary school I walked home for lunch. The first day of school I got my lunch and sat at an empty table. I began eating and was very uncomfortable being all alone. Then a group of very popular students sat down at my table and physically pushed me off. I had to find another table to finish my lunch. I saw an 8th grader I knew through my family (her sister was in 7th grade with me) and I asked Chris if I could sit with her. She was sitting with only one other person I knew, Kathy R. a girl who I remembered from elementary school days who no one liked because she was poor and dirty and smelled bad. Slowly that day and throughout the next weeks the table began to fill with loners and outcasts. Girls who would never be popular for one reason or the other. I don't know if I thought this way at the time, but it was not long before I realized it. This is where I ended up meeting Cindy.

June 5, 1972In which Sally gets Gary after Pam dumps him

9:45 pm

I haven't written in the longest time. I was upset to write because Jeff read this. I could have killed him -- I really enjoyed it though. I think he likes me.

The party was last Friday. It was O.K. Pam and Gary were hardly together and today (Monday) Pam broke up with him! But Sally moved in right away and I had no chance. Sally said that he tried to kiss her and began necking. I don't believe that one bit. If he did that to me I sould slap him. I still like him and Sally is making me mad. She called tonight and began pouring out her problems.

We got our yearbooks Friday. Jerry P. signed mine and added "Sex is fun and so are you" and "By the way you are a real son of a bitch." I was so mad at him.

Note:
It is interesting reading this now that I have two middle-schoolers. I listen to what Clare tells me about her friends and boys and school but it seems so foreign to me. Now I realize I was there doing the same things as she does.

I met Sally my first year of middle school (we called it junior high back then). She and my friend Cindy knew each other when Cindy lived on the east side of town. They were in elementary school together. Cindy told me about Sally's eye when Cindy and I were sitting in the Auditorium during the first few days at Kimball Junior High while a teacher strike was going on.

Sally developed cancer in her eye when she was very young, maybe three years old. The doctors were able to get rid of the cancer, but they also had to remove her eye and eyelid. She had a plastic eye that did not look at all real. Her parents ran a department store in Elgin called Joseph Spiess. Sally and I had a long friendship. We went to England together even. Sally's oldest sister was an actress and model. I lost touch with Sally after high school. She married and moved to Indiana. Sally died of cancer in 1985 on the day of our tenth high school reunion.

May 10, 1972 In which Gary looks at me and I see Jeff Smoking

12:55 pm

Wow! Half of Kimball is gone today. Kim and I were the only ones at our lunch table. I wish Gary would please quit looking at me. I don't know if he likes me or not?? Maybe he is just saving me for when he and Pam break-up or something. Or is he searching for something in my face, to tell him something about me. I really think that I don't like him anymore. Well, not in the way that I did at one time.

Jeff is something else. I remember in sixth grade I had the biggest crush on him. Now he makes me sick. He is such a...a...there is no word to describe him. I saw him and this other kid -- Mike Sennet or something smoking! Smoking!?? Why Jeff? Why? I guess I still have some feeling for him even if it's only pity.

Note:
Jeff was someone I ended up having a crush on for years. Last I heard of him, he was a thief at Zayre Department Store where I worked. His parents were well off, but for some reason he liked to steal.

Here is a school photograph of Jeff that I must have gotten because I was on the yearbook staff.

I sure had my opinions back then...smoking was one of them. My parents smoked until I was in third grade or so, then both quit. It was not something I ever had any desire to do, but I finally stopped disliking people who did.