JOURNAL NO. 16
October / November 1975
Age 17

"Sometimes I wish I could be someone else, just for a few hours ... just long enough to
experience someone else's emotions and thoughts. I'd like to be able to look out at the world through
another person's eyes, to see with an entirely different perspective from my own  ..."




There is almost nothing left of this journal to transcribe: I censored it mercilessly a couple of years after it was written, in an attempt to conceal my 12th grade abortion.  All that remains are a handful of incomplete entries; virtually all references to the pregnancy, the abortion and my relationship with the father have been ripped out.

 

 



(FIRST FEW PAGES OF JOURNAL ARE MISSING)

 

Evening 8:15 p.m.

Don called tonight and invited me to a party at Bill Dodd's apartment. I said "Thanks" and that I would come if I could get a ride ... but actually I have no intention of going. Steve is a regular at Bill's parties, and I never want to see HIM again. So I'm staying home, watching TV & turning off the world for a while.

 

I love
Because not to love
Is not to live.

 

October 9, 1975
Thursday - Homecoming Spirit Week

Diary Entry:

Really great day  --  climax of Homecoming Spirit Week.  Everyone dressed up in the clothes of the 60's (I wore rolled up jeans, bobby sox, my old Pep Club sweater and heavy makeup).  Dancing, excitement all day.  Assembly was a riot.  Lori S. was crowned Homecoming Queen. 

Talked to Tim after school  --  he said he thinks Pat still likes me. 

Got my pictures taken at 6:15 at Harta Studios, then Lori and I went out. Went to the movies, Herfy's.  Empty weekend ahead.

 



My grandparents took me to get my senior pictures taken;
they had no clue that I was nearly twelve weeks pregnant
November 1975

 

Monday evening
October 27, 1975

Just took a hot shower and washed my hair ... now I'm sitting in Dad's old easy chair, watching "Phyllis" on TV, sipping a strawberry soda. Feeling peaceful and pensive.

Today was a school holiday (Veterans Day, I think?) and I spent the day with Rhonda. We went shopping at Southcenter and the new Sea Tac mall out in Midway, had lunch at a hamburger restaurant, a good time together. Just the little lift I needed. Life is dull right now. Nothing exciting. I wish I had a boyfriend. Beginning to wonder if I'm just wasting my time mooning over Pat. After all, there are other guys I wouldn't mind going with.

 






Tuesday before bed
October 28, 1975

Lord, why do I feel so tired and old and dried up? I'm only seventeen years old, almost eighteen, but already I feel as though I've seen everything there is to see and done everything there is to do. I feel as though there's nothing left, nothing to be living for. Is there?

Is there?

Why do I respond to dark, evil, earthly things? Why does loud rock and roll excite me? Why does my blood pulse and throb at the beat of a drum? Why do I thrill to fast cars, good-looking boys, beer parties, pot, acid? Are these the things that are drying me up inside and making me feel so old? If they are - why can't I turn away from them and seek the

(journal entry ends)

 

 

 




Saturday afternoon
November 1, 1975

Waterloo

Things are looking up. Yesterday after school Pat shocked the holy hell out of me by calling - apparently "just to talk." It's been such a long time since he's called that I didn't even recognize his voice. When it finally dawned on me who I was talking to, my heart turned over with joy. I couldn't believe it! We talked for about half an hour.

Then last night we had a football game - the final game of the season - against Highline. We won 28-6, and it was a good, exciting game. After the game, we all went to Herfy's. Lori, Debbie & I were all sitting in a booth together when Pat came in. I couldn't see him because I had my back to the door, but Deb and Lori supplied me with a play-by-play commentary. ("He's standing at the counter." "He's buying something to eat." "He's fixing his hair." "He's looking around - OH, he sees you!" "He's coming this way .") I didn't believe for a minute that he'd come sit by me ... I hoped, but I didn't dare believe. So imagine my shocked, happy surprise when I turned around to see him standing by our table, holding a milkshake and smiling rather sheepishly. I said "hi" and moved over to make room, and he sat right next to me. I mean RIGHT NEXT TO ME. He was so close I was touching his arm, and I could smell the scent of soap and aftershave lotion on him. We didn't talk much - his "buddies" were in the booth next to us, and they kept talking to him and giving the two of us strange looks. Come to think of it, a LOT of people at Herfy's were giving us funny looks. Joanne W. - this girl who has a gigantic crush on Pat, according to the grapevine  - and all her friends were throwing invisible hate bombs in my direction. Several of Angie M.'s friends (Angie likes Pat too, I guess) were glaring at me too. Seemed as though no one could believe their eyes. Pat M. and Terri V.??? Pat had to leave early, and soon afterwards Lori and I went home too.

Today, around 1:00, Pat called again. I was wishing and praying and dropping subtle hints and dying inside, wishing he would ask me out, but he never did. We talked about football and basketball and Pat's father (who went to high school with MY dad: they were drinking buddies) and school, but the closest he came to asking was out was saying "Will you be home later on today?" I said "Yes, probably" and he mumbled something about how him and Glenn were going to the park to toss the football around. ????? Men are weird.

So now I don't know what to do. Just to be on the safe side I took a shower and washed and set my hair and fixed my makeup. I have no idea what's going to happen. I have a feeling I'll probably be sitting home again tonight for the eighth Saturday night in a row. I hope not, though. I want to be with Pat SO MUCH, even if it's just doing something dumb like going to Scott Williamson's party or going to his house to watch TV. I really don't care. I just want to be with him, dammit!!

 

 

 

 

Sunday evening
November 2, 1975

Rocket Man

I didn't go out with Pat last night. I was tired, so I ended up staying home and going to bed early. Oh well ... there's always next weekend, or the weekend after that, or the weekend after that. I still have hope in my heart. 

Sitting in bed, listening to the radio, looking through the yearbook for pictures of Pat. I took a long shower and washed my hair ... now I feel soapy and clean and tired. 

Back to school tomorrow - good. This whole weekend - I hope - was a turning point in our relationship. He didn't take me out, but he called twice, unexpectedly both times, and he was unashamedly attentive at Herfy's after the game on Friday night. Maybe things are going to get better.

 

 

 

(PAGES MISSING)

 

Here I'm talking about my cousin Linda and her children  ...

 ... her adorable little kids, Dawna, Sean and Shannon. Wish I was as happy as she is. 

...  and here I'm talking about Tim Baker, who has suddenly become the object of my (unrequited) attention.

I've been thinking about Tim all day, asking myself all kinds of questions, and Ledger, I'm stuck for answers. 1. What am I going to do about it? 2. Should I tell him myself? (I'd be too scared!) Or should I have a girlfriend talk to him? 3. Or should I tell him at all? Should I just start acting really sweet to him until he takes the initiative? 4. What if he likes Becky?  I really think I like him a lot. I just don't understand why I didn't realize it sooner.

Later:

Midnight. Tired, a little high. Rhonda came over this evening, and when we got tired of sitting and listening to albums, we drove around the Renton Loop a few times. The last time we were driving around, we ran into some guys we knew - two of my ex-boyfriends, Mike and Rick, and a friend of theirs from Tyee, Steve. I was kind of embarrassed to see Mike, after what happened last May at his house, but it was good to see Rick. He was looking good and was as funny to be with as he was last spring. We all ended up coming to my house to listen to ZZ Top albums and talk. That got kinda dull after a while, so we piled into Steve's car and went up and drove around the airport and Pacific Highway. We smoked three joints, and I really got off. I felt absolutely mellow, and even my worries about Tim didn't bother me as much. I sat in the front seat between Steve, who was driving, and Rick. We (Rhonda & I) called Tim, just to see what he was doing and to see if he knew where all the action was. I talked to him, and he sounded like he was really tired or sick or in a bad mood. Kinda scared me. Was he mad at us for calling??

Still reaching. Still searching.

My heart cries out for love
And all that goes with loving

 

My pal Rhonda and I, getting ready for another night of boy-hunting
Fall 1975

 

 

A few days after the abortion.   I wish now that I hadn't destroyed the portions of this journal that dealt with the subject: it was this HUGE thing that happened to me, at a pivotal point in my life, and I have no written record of it, or of the long healing process that followed. 

 

 

Monday evening
November 24, 1975

Heatwave

Sitting in my CLEAN (shock! gasp!) bedroom in an old football jersey and pair of jeans, listening to the radio. Still feeling cramps and bleeding moderately heavily. Ever since I started taking my birth control pills on Friday, it's gotten worse and worse. That's funny. I always heard that women who take the pill have lighter periods, not heavier. Maybe I just don't know enough about the subject.

 



The yearbook photographer took this candid shot of me
standing in front of my locker
Fall 1975

 

 

Wednesday afternoon
November 26, 1974

Boy, Ledger, do I ever feel DUMB. The school newspaper came out today, complete with my song dedication to Tim ("Went To Sleep With You On My Mind"), and it took him & his friends about thirty seconds to figure out who the mysterious "Number 13" was (my locker number). I feel like an IDIOT, and Tim seems to be so embarrassed he didn't even talk to me after school. First of all, it was stupid of me to dedicate a song to him to begin with ... even dumber to dedicate that particular song, it sounds like I'm sleeping with him ... and even dumber still to sign it so obviously. Now he probably thinks I'm some kind of nut.

My Dream: I was sitting beneath the dogwood tree in Grandma & Grandpa's backyard one afternoon, feeling sad and lonely, when a handsome young man in peasants clothing suddenly appeared. He was a stranger to our world - he came from another dimension - but he was fiercely handsome and we sat and talked for a long long time. He began to appear every day, and I would sneak out to meet him so we could talk. I was living with Grandma, Grandpa and Gim, and they were suspicious of my daily journeys to the backyard ... they were always yelling at me about it, but I continued going out to meet him. Gradually he and I fell deeply in love, and he admitted that he was a High Prince in his world. He came in his royal robes one afternoon and took me to his world, where we were married. I continued living in my world, for fear my grandparents would find out I was married, but every day my husband/prince would materialize and I would joyously sneak out to be with him.

 

 




Friday night
November 28, 1975

Sitting home. I feel strange tonight ... calm and remote inside. There are all kinds of thoughts and dreams and vague worries floating around in my head, but tonight I feel as though none of that matters. I'm sitting in my room, listening to corny Christmas music, the scent of burning candles pervading the dimness of the room. I'm comfortable ... old jeans and a peasant blouse, my hair curled the way I like it (tight curls in front, framing my face, smooth uninterrupted waves in back

 

(PAGES MISSING)

After the abortion, I went on the pill. 

 ... Once in a while I remove them from their hiding place and simply look at them. The tiny white pills and the five dark pink pills, neatly wrapped in plastic and foil and numbered for each day of my cycle. They fascinate me. They symbolize love, and longing, and desire ... all the things I miss right now. They make me feel more feminine, more worthwhile. That's why I take them, even though nothing but celibacy and empty Saturday nights loom ahead ...

What am I thinking about? Tim, for one thing. The shaggy mop of blond hair and the fuzz, pale beard sprouting on his chin. The smiling eyes, the lean casual slouch. The muscles in his arms, the long white even teeth. Not exactly good-looking ... it is the vibrancy of his personality that makes him attractive. I'm thinking about him, wondering if he could ever like me. Sometimes it almost seems as though he does. The day he snuck up behind me at the locker, grabbed me and lifted me up into the air, snarling "GOTCHA, baby!" Or when he drove me home from Drivers Ed, the almost-shy way he asked for one of my pictures ... I must be at least as pretty as Becky. I know I have a noticeable figure, and on the days when everything is right - when my hair curls the way it should and my makeup is flawless and my clothes are becoming - I feel really good

 

(PAGES MISSING)

 

 ... well-being. Over the summer I sort of grew out of that phase. Lately I've been turning to booze again. Why?

 

 




Thursday evening
December 4, 1975

Rhonda, Lori and I are going to the wrestling match at school tonight.

Today was an OK school day, the usual routine. No rain, thank God!! Just cold, COLD weather, gray skies. Feels like snow.

I'm still really hung up on Tim. One time today, at the locker, he snuck up and grabbed me from behind and held me in a judo grip. Didn't hurt a bit, felt good!! I saw Brenda Z. and her old boyfriend Tom together during lunch - they were sitting really close together and she was whispering in his ear. That was a relief, because for a while I was afraid that she liked Tim, the way she was always hanging around him, but it looks like she still likes Tom. Thank goodness! Tim is so sweet & so friendly that I wouldn't be surprised if a LOT of girls start liking him this year. He had a girlfriend last year, Linda, who is in my Journalism class. From talking to her I gather that he really treats his girlfriends like ladies. That's neat. I know that when he drove me home from Drivers

 

 

(PAGES MISSING)

 

 

More before bed:

I can't sleep. Too many disjointed thoughts floating around in my head, too many unanswered questions. I think I'll sleep in a couple extra hours tomorrow morning and go to school late. Drinking that gin tonight kinda put me into a fog, and although I'm not really tired, by the time morning has broken I'll be thankful for a couple extra hours of SLEEP.

I need someone to love. Naturally Tim is the one I want, but if I can't have him, I wish I could find someone equally as nice and funny and personable. Today I promised to teach him how to play the piano if he would teach me to drive his car. Part of me says, "Terri, you're rushing things. Just sit back and let it ride ... enjoy life as it is, and wait for Mr. Right to come to you." The other part of me says, "HUSTLE! Move your tail and do everything you can to get Tim!!  Make your move!!"

 

 




Saturday night
December 5, 1975

Oh God, Ledger, I like Tim so much, I could just die thinking about him.

A couple of things happened tonight, perhaps they're newsworthy. Rhonda, Lori and I went to the basketball game. Before the game Rhonda and I had three beers apiece, and I swear they hit me right between the eyes in about ten minutes. I hadn't eaten anything but an apple and a piece of cake all day, so I guess that's why I got so snockered so fast. Rhonda was pretty drunk too, and through the whole game we were laughing and making dumb jokes and feeling good. Mark Hawley was with us most of the time, this cute little sophomore guy in my Stage Band class, and he was really funny & sweet. After the game we "kidnapped" him and took him to Herfy's with us. 

While I was at the game I had to go to the bathroom bad, so during half-time Rhon and I staggered out to the girls' can. While I was in there I saw something written on the wall that almost made me cry: "TIM BAKER & DEBBIE D." I couldn't believe my eyes. I almost died. It made me feel bad, because Debbie is one of the girls that's always hanging around him at his locker ... a cute junior girl with a really great personality. Big competition. I have to admit, I wasn't all THAT surprised. I had an idea she probably liked him, the way she's always mauling him. Anyway. At Herfy's there were, as usual, a hundred kids milling around and drag-racing in the parking lot and stuff like that. Rhonda, Lori, Mark and I managed to grab a booth by the window, and about 15 minutes later when Tim arrived, he and Tom Rayburn came over and actually sat down at our table with us. It was really fun, because we were all laughing & talking. Tim was teasing me about my driving ability (or rather, my lack of it) and we talked about the game, stuff like that. I felt so happy and excited and keyed-up with Tim sitting there. Later in the evening Lori and Tim were standing in line up at the front counter, and Lori asked Tim if we could have a ride home. He smiled and said yah, and Lori said "Because you know how much we LOVE you, Tim." According to her he smiled even bigger and with a funny look in his eyes, and said "Yah, I know." I wonder what that meant ...

The ride home was really fun. I sat in front next to Tim and Lori sat in the back with Tom. We were laughing just about the whole time. Dropped Lori off first, and then when we came to my house Tim looked at me with kind of a strange look and said, "I'll see ya later, Terri."

 

 




Saturday afternoon
December 6, 1975

Kind of depressed. Things just don't seem to be going the way they should. My life feels unbalanced. Does Tim like me? Or does he like (perish the thought) Debbie? Or Becky?  Or Brenda? Does he know that I like him? Does he care?

Evening, 12:30

Rhonda and I went out tonight. We went to her house for a while, sat in her bedroom listening to records and looking at her old photo albums. We drove around the Loop once, but there were only a bunch of asshole guys down there so we left. Then we went to Herfy's and ran into some guys we know from school (Alan Schubert, Jeff Hausauer, Russell Turgeon). Sat in a booth together and talked for a long time.

I borrowed a book from Rhonda, and when I opened it a few minutes ago so I could start to read it, I found an old letter that Rhonda had written to Ben Lensegrav. It was dated July 20, 1975, and part of it says:

"... Lori says "hi!" and that she's gonna write ya soon. As for Terri, I haven't heard anything for two weeks or so. Can you tell me what Terri did at Mike H.'s house the night of my birthday? You see, the reason I'm wondering is cuz Mike F. and Tony both said that something happened, but they wouldn't tell me what. You see, I got too drunk that night - I drank 1/2 a bottle of dry gin and got really sick, so Lori and I left. So I don't really know what happened. It's driving me crazy, both Lori and I are wondering ... "


That really made me FURIOUS when I read what she'd written. As though she actually had a fucking right to be "wondering." I know it's kind of dumb and infantile of me to be upset about something Rhonda wrote nearly five months ago, but still the thought of Rhonda & Lori discussing what "might have" happened in my personal life burns me up ...

Rhonda and I weren't really very close during the summer, anyway, so I can't really blame her for thinking the worst.






Sunday night
December 7, 1975

Last night when Rhonda and I were at Herfy's, we were talking about Tolo coming up in February, and she made me realize that I should ask Tim to go with me. I've been thinking about it all day, and you want to know something funny? The thought of asking Tim to go to a dance with me scares me out of my mind!!!!!

Evening:

Curled up in my armchair in the living room, listening to spacey FM music through the headphones. I have a lot of strange thoughts in my head. Just washed my hair and brushed my teeth, took my pill and put on a clean nightgown, and now I smell like Windsong cologne and minty toothpaste and starchy clean flannel. Cozy. This music is gorgeous



(PAGES MISSING)



... to get together with a shy & inattentive Pat, and I'm not about to make that same kind of mistake with Tim! I want to ask Tim to go to Tolo with me, but I can't find the words. Every time I think about asking him, my stomach tightens into a hard little knot and every nerve in my body turns to jelly. I've never had to ask a boy for a date, so I haven't had any experience. In spite of everything Womens Lib has to say on the subject, it ISN'T an easy thing to do. What if he says no? Or worse yet, what if he says yes and then backs out later? The nightmarish possibilities loom before me.

Why do I spend so much time and energy and thought worrying about boys, worrying about love and life and sex and the future? Why are my moods always dictated by success or failure with the opposite sex? When I'm "up," nine times out of ten it's because of a boy. When I'm "down," you can be sure that basically it has something to do with a boy. My whole life revolves around boys. Is that good? Is it abnormal? Is it the way other eighteen year old girls feel? What about really pretty, popular girls ... do they worry about boys as much as I do? Or what about the homely, nameless girls who never date ... what do they feel like? Sometimes I wish I could be someone else, just for a few hours ... just long enough to experience someone else's emotions and thoughts. I'd like to be able to look out at the world through another person's eyes, to see with an entirely different perspective from my own. That way I'd have something to compare my own thoughts to, to see if I'm normal.

I don't even like the thought of marriage. Marriage seems to signify growing old and mundane and colorless, washing dishes and wearing curlers in the supermarket and feeding the kids. I don't want to grow old. I don't want to stop being young and excited and in love with music and relatively carefree. I'm scared to death by the thought of graduating next spring. I'm scared of watching my hair turn dull and gray, my skin grow flabby, my teeth fall out, my veins bulge, my arthritis sharpen ...  Oh yeah?  I'll see your seventeen yr. old physical perfection and I'll raise you a blissful marriage, three wonderful children, a job I enjoy and ten years of sobriety.

Plus *I* don't live with my father.

How morbid, Terri.

I don't want to get married, at least not for a long time. I want to be young and love and be happy in loving.










Monday before bed
December 8, 1975

Tim drove me home from Drivers Ed tonite, Ledger!!! That does it. This week I've got to find out, one way or the other. Could he ever like me as a girlfriend, or can we only be friends? I can't stand the suspense one minute longer, especially when my feelings grow stronger every time I'm near him. I don't know how I'll find out, but once I make up my mind to do something I do it without a backward glance. I'm going to let him know, somehow, how I really feel about him. I'll see where he takes it from there.












Tuesday morning
December 9, 1975

I must have the world's lowest tolerance level. One 1/2 cup of booze and POW, I'm off like a rocket on the Fourth of July. Why do I get drunk so quick? And how in the hell am I going to get to school in this liquidated condition ...?? Every nerve in my body feels like heaven.











Wednesday evening
December 10, 1975

Sitting on my bed, listening to the radio and sipping a tasteless diet cola. I've put on too much weight lately, especially around my hips, and I don't know how I'll lose it unless I give up some of the things I love ... Pepsi and french fries and second-helpings, for instance. I want to be SLIM by next summer.

I'm kind of looking forward to next summer, although I dread the thought of graduating and leaving my high school days behind. Summer should be fun, though. The way I see it, it'll be the last really fun, carefree summer I'll have for a long, long time. After that there will be college and a job and who-knows- what-else to worry about, and not enough time for lolling around the beaches and going to parties. Besides that (and perhaps most importantly of all), after next summer most of my high school friends will move away or go to college or get married, and I see next summer as being one last, unhurried time of being together and saying "goodbye."  That's why I'm looking forward to summer. I want it to be everything last summer wasn't.

Last summer ... hmmm. In a lot of ways it was a disappointment, although it had its moments of sunshine and love and happiness, as all summers must. Rhonda and Lori and I made so many plans. We were going to go to the beach every day, laying on the sand soaking up the rays and turning absolutely black, partying and going out with boys and cruising Alki Point ...

... Well, something unexpected happened. I accidentally met Steve at a party, and from that night on I knew that what I wanted more than anything was to spend all my time with him. Rhonda was horrified. She knew Steve, she knew what kind of people he ran around with. She ordered me to "get over him." But when it became apparent that I was serious, she did the only thing she could do: she spent her summer with Lori instead. While they were laying on sandy beaches and running around with "nice" boys, where was I? Going to wild parties and spending nights at Steve's house and smoking pot and doing things that nice girls don't do. When Steve left for Texas I was CRUSHED. Left all alone, I began to feel really alone. However, it didn't take long for me to meet some more guys and start the old partying-drinking-drugs route.

In July I was "saved" from all this sin and vice ... I went on a church retreat into California for ten long, happy, beautiful, eventful days, and came home with a "nice" Christian boyfriend and filled with good intentions. I spent the rest of my summer with my church friends ... dry, sober, straight  ...  and bored right out of my skull ...

So you see, the summer didn't live up to my expectations, and that's why I want next summer to be better. It's strange to think that the whole summer would have been different if I hadn't




(PAGES MISSING)





... my overwhelming need for love into doing those things which have radically changed my lifestyle and my way of thinking. I only want to explain my own amazement at the way my priorities and ideas have been altered during high school. Things that I considered "REALLY bad" when I was a sophomore now seem as harmless as taking a bubblebath on a morning in May.

Goodnite!








Thursday night
December 11, 1975

Little sisters of the sun
Lit candles in the rain
Fed the world on oats and raisins
Candles in the rain
Lit the fire to the soul
Who never knew its friend
To be there was to remember.
So lay it down again ...

I love this song. I could sit here with the headphones on and listen to it over and over again, all night. I can't say I exactly understand the lyrics, but it is the music itself (and the way Melanie sings it) that touches me.

Tonight was fun. Rhonda, Mark and me all went to the wrestling match at Evergreen (Glacier lost, miserably) and we had a blast. Mark is so funny. We were sitting in a booth at Herfy's together after the match and he kept making jokes and commenting about the other kids at Herfy's. I was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down my face. During the ride home, Mark had his arm around me. I don't like him as a boyfriend - he's only a 15 year old sophomore, after all - but I didn't say anything. It wasn't really a big deal. Alan and Jeff were at Herfy's, and naturally they came over to talk. I know that Alan likes me, I can tell.

I've just about decided to forget about Tim. I still like him, but shit, Ledger, what's the use? He's got girls swarming around him all day. I barely get a chance to talk to him. He said I looked nice in my choir dress today - at least he noticed - but I'm not going to dwell on that single compliment or make it the "big event" of my day.

Think I'll go to bed, because my eyelids are starting to droop. I'm pretty tired. G'nite.






FAVORITE SONGS DURING THIS JOURNAL

"SOS" - Abba
"Who Loves You?" - The Four Seasons (memories of Pat)
"Miracles" - Jefferson Starship (memories of Phil)
"Fly Away" - John Denver
"Evil Woman" - Electric Light Orchestra
"Fly Robin Fly" - Silver Convention
"Heatwave" - Linda Ronstadt
"Saturday Night" - The Bay City Rollers (memories of cruising the Loop with Rhonda)
"Rock & Roll All Night" - Kiss
"I'm Still Gonna Need You" - The Osmonds
"I Want To Do Something Freaky To You" (memories of Tim) - Leon Haywood









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