February 23, 1976 -- In which I analyze my feelings about Woody

Monday

7:30 pm

I don't know why I am writing this. I've already got my emotions straightened out I think. I just can't figure out the good feelings I have around Woody (that's his name for sure, I asked him). They are not sexual, for he is not very good looking, they aren't really emotional either. I just like him. But I have an awful feeling (it isn't awful at all) that he has a different sort of feeling for me. I am not sure. I guess that this is what I hoped for. Now "to lead him on or not to lead him on, that is the question." (Whether 'tis nobler...)

I don't really know. I don't know what I'd do if he asked me out. I hope he does. We may go to a concert this Saturday. I'm not sure; he just asked me if I was going. Maybe he will want to meet there. Why do I care? A good excuse is that I have uneventful weekends. All I do is sit around and get bored. I need social interaction but I won't get it on my own. I need friends. What to do???

My stupid face is breaking out. I hate that. I've got a paper to do for English.

Note:
All I can say is WHAT A BITCH! I was calculatingly planning on leading him on? Geeze... I thought I was a better person than that.

Journal Entry #7 -- September 27, 1975

11:30 pm

The first thing to do is write in my English journal, then my regular journal, then to Jeremy, then to Sue and finally to Pam. Then I can read a chapter in Upstairs, Downstairs. Then to sleep.

I've been rearranging my room tonight. I think I will really like this way, but I become bored with it so often.

I think I'll be doing homework from the time I rise until Monty Python tomorrow.

I really think I like the way I have my room. Gee whiz -- now that I've found the way I like it, I don't have much longer in it. I'll be going away to school the year after next and when, who knows? Jeremy and I want to live together -- share an ampartment -- the first year he's here. Then I'll get married. So I guess this room goes to Kevin -- Or Mom and Dad.

It's going to be sad -- but I guess its not the room -- it could be all my things -- posters, drawings, records, books, knick-knacks -- everything. Everything holds meaning for me.

Note:
About the room -- I think Kevin moved up there after I finally left (at age 23 -- I didn't go away to school and Jeremy and I broke up my senior year of college). When he left it was turned back into a storage room, occasionally used as a guest room.