December 1975 -
Age 18, Senior year
"Do you think I could be an alcoholic?"
December 13, 1975
Drying my hair. I just
finished writing and addressing 20 Christmas cards. I don't really feel
much like Christmas yet, even though I spent the whole morning putting
the Christmas decorations up. I taped Christmas cards to the
mirror, hung up two red and white stockings (one for me, one for Dad),
strung garlands above the archway, put the dancing Santa on top of the
television. The living room looks nice now, but somehow it doesn't seem
to kindle the usual fire of holiday anticipation. Maybe that kind of
feeling dies as you get older. It snowed last night, and all I could
think was "Damn, I hope it all
melts by Monday so we can drive to the Beach Boys concert!"
That's sad, because when I was a kid, a snowstorm like the one we had
last night would have been pure joy. That shows you how attitudes
change. I don't like snow anymore, and I don't get excited about
Christmas. Strange. My 18th birthday is in two days, and all of a
sudden I feel very old ...
I feel kind of guilty, lying
to Mike (Baxter). I was really surprised when he asked me out, and a
little flattered, but I didn't want to go to a movie with him. For one
thing, we've been friends for too long. I would feel as tho I was
dating my brother. And for another, he and Debbie just broke up three
days ago and she's a good friend of mine. I'm not sure how she would
feel if she knew I went out with Mike, ESPECIALLY since I spent most of
Thursday trying to console her after Mike broke up with her. I don't
want to be a hypocrite. I'm sure the feeble excuse I gave him ("I have to work" .... he knows
darned well that I don't have a job!) was as transparent as glass. Oh
well. I hope I didn't hurt him.
and I will
probably go out and drive around tonite ... another dull Saturday. Life
hasn't been all that exciting lately, to put it mildly.
finally decided to
just give up on Tim. I like him a lot, but I'm obviously nothing more
than a friend to him, and it would be pointless to keep trying. So what
do I do?? Just sit around and wait for the right guy to come along and
sweep me off my feet?? Shit. I'd better not hold my
breath. The guys at school are great ... IF you have a thing
for 4'10" sophomores, pimply-faced, frizzy-haired juniors, or
conceited, arrogant senior "men." (No thanks.) Tim was the
best prospect of the bunch. He was like a lemonade stand in
the middle of a scorching hot desert - the best thing around. Looks
like I lose out, as usual.
Eating a grape flavored
sucker, listening to the stereo, waiting for Rhonda to call. In a way I
would almost like to sit home tonight and relax instead of going out,
but that would leave Rhonda with nothing to do. We never go to parties
anymore - Rhon says she wants to "break away from that crowd", and
mutely I agreed with her - but deep inside I miss the fun we used to
have at those parties. It was a cheap, easy way to get drunk or high or
whatever was on the menu that evening, and it was fun to talk and
listen to loud rock and feel uninhibited. I miss that.
I drink too much.
I used to hate beer, wine, whiskey, anything alcoholic ... I hated the
smell, the taste, the sick queasy feeling it gave me. I couldn't figure
out why the hell anyone in their right mind would pour buckets of the
stuff down their own throats. When I started going to parties
in my sophomore year, tho, I figured it out quick enough. It isn't the
stuff itself that attracts ... it's the feeling
it produces. I never feel as exhilarated and happy and completely
"together" as I do when I've had a drink. That's why I love parties so
Monday I'm going to
celebrate my birthday in style! Rhonda, Debbie, Greg McKenna
and I are going to the Beach Boys concert and get ourselves wasted. I can't wait.
no word from
Rhonda. Maybe I'm not going out tonight, after all.
in a really rotten
mood now. I feel like sitting here in my armchair and putting the whole
stupid evening into words -- and I honestly don't give a shit how
boring or inane it may sound. Thank God I bought this new Ledger today
... that was about the ONLY thing I've done right since I got up this
kinds of little
irritations jammed together to make the evening so irritating.
Rhonda called and
announced that Debbie would be coming with us. I wasn't
thrilled. Debbie is OK - I like her just fine - but
whenever she and Rhonda are together, I feel like the invisible third
wheel. Then they jammed me into the backseat of Rhonda's Pinto while
the two of them sat in the front, jabbering. I sat and looked
out the window and contemplated jumping out at the next red light.
drove around Burien,
went to Herfy's three or four times, drove out to Normandy Park,
cruised the Renton Loop a couple of times. The Loop was jam-packed with
good-looking guys tonite ... I swear, every car that passed us had a
foxy guy in it, smiling and waving at us. It would have been fun to
pull over and talk to someone, but all of a sudden Rhonda got into a
pissy mood and said she wanted to leave because "the Loop brought back
memories of Gary." We passed my ex-boyfriend Rick Hanley on 1st Avenue,
when he asked if we wanted to go to Lewis & Clark with him and
his friends, Rhonda said "No." Then Rick said, "Terri, do you
want to go?" but Rhonda rolled up her window and drove away. That
PISSED ME OFF. Rick must think I'm a total bitch now, and any chance of
him ever taking me out again is shot to hell. Then Greg Strayer
kept pestering me at Herfy's, finally embarrassing the shit out of me
by telling Mike Bruin that I like him (when ALL I said about him was
cute"). Then Rhonda and Debbie just got up and went to sit in another
booth, leaving me stranded.
hundred little things
are picking at my nerves, making me feel cross and irritable and
lonely. I could sure use a drink.
many worries. How
the hell am I going to learn that damned piano music for choir in time
for the concert on Wednesday??? With only four days left to practice,
I'm going to do one fucking shitty job.
I should just go
to bed and forget about everything. Let it ride, Terri ... "whatever it
is, it'll keep till the morning."
December 14, 1975
and I drove down to
the Seattle waterfront today ... had fish & chips at Ivar's,
then poked around Ye Olde Curiousity Shoppe and Trident Imports. Just
like old times. I bought myself a blue plastic makeup case with the
Space Needle painted on it, just to splurge and buy something dumb.
is in another rotten
mood this evening, so I've decided to hole myself up in my cozy little
bedroom and watch TV. Hell with him.
is my birthday,
and I'm so excited about this concert, I can't stand it!! I called Greg
McKenna about an hour ago to make sure he's still going, and he sounded
really nice. He is
going, by the way, and I'm really glad.
December 16, 1975
was my 18th
birthday, and the great Beach Boys concert I've been anticipating all
month ... and I have so much to tell you, Ledger, but it's super-late
and I should go to bed. I'm all keyed-up and excited, and I don't know
why unless it's just from the excitement of yesterday. I've got to try
and get some sleep.
night is our
stupid Choir concert, and I'm tense about that because I don't know the
piano part very well and I'm going to do a lousy job in front of a lot
of people. Oh well. Maybe I'll take you to school with me tomorrow,
Ledger, and spend some time writing.
December 17, 1975
free moment in the
middle of a hectic afternoon. I've got to start getting ready for the
choir concert in a little while. Cold, clear day ... feels like more
snow in the air. Wintery feeling.
Beach Boys concert
was absolutely fantastic ... I've never been to a better show! There
were over 15,000 people in the jam-packed Coliseum, and when the Beach
Boys came on stage and did all their hits, everyone was dancing and
clapping wildly and singing. Like the review in the Seattle Times
described it, "it was a
party." Me, Rhonda, Debbie and
Greg all went together, as originally planned - plus Mark Hawley
to get a ticket at the last minute, so he went with us too.
(He's the cute little sophomore from my Stage Band class.)
Before the concert, we downed almost a full case of beer and smoked
some pot, so I was totally bombed. I was SO HIGH, and it felt so good.
During the concert Greg and I sat next to each other, and I was kinda
surprised when he put his arm around me! I didn't mind, tho, because I
was really high and I felt like being held. The music was great. I sat
there, leaning my head on Greg's shoulder in complete rapture. They
even did my FAVORITE song, "Barbara Ann," and I was so happy. It was a
wonderful evening. Greg kissed me goodbye and promised to call. At the
time it seemed very important, but now I don't really care if he does
or not. I had fun with him at the concert ... that was enough.
the concert, Greg
and Debbie told me that Mark has a crush on me. I just said "I know,"
and left it at that. The way he looks at me in Stage Band makes it
pretty obvious. He was a little upset at the concert because Greg was
hanging all over me.
Later, 10:45 p.m.
hands are numb from
cold ... I can barely hold my pen.
tonight was as terrible as I knew it would be - I didn't know my piano
music and made a billion mistakes - but I'm just so relieved that it's
OVER and I can relax. One less worry on my mind. I've been pushing
myself so hard lately, trying to learn that music, and now that the
Christmas concert is over I can relax and enjoy the holidays.
"major" worries ...
what an incredibly weightless feeling! I'm not pregnant anymore (one
month ago today I had the abortion). I don't have to worry about Steve
ever hurting me again. I might have enough money to do my Christmas
shopping. No more Choir concert to sweat over. And - maybe best of all
- I'm going through another one of those phases where suddenly my phone
starts ringing and I have more dates and things to do than days in the
December 18, 1975
here in Study
Hall, my first class of the morning. I haven't really woken up yet ...
getting out of bed this morning was even more difficult than usual.
Last night, after the horrible choir concert, Sheri Hanson, Denise
Naomi A. and I drove over to Kennedy High School to watch the last half
of their Christmas concert. I didn't get home until 10:30, and then I
had to spend a half hour getting ready for bed. By the time I finally
slipped in between the blankets, it was past eleven and I was dead
tired. Climbing out of bed into the frosty morning was agony ...
Later in the afternoon:
has been a good
day. Mark and I have been together more than usual; he is cute and
funny, and we are very comfortable around each other. He's like my new
best friend. We always give each other conspiratory, secret
smiles during Stage Band over our shared jokes (the faces Tony makes
when he plays the guitar ... Mark V.'s "blouse" ...). He makes me
laugh. Because of all this, I sometimes tend to forget that he is three
years younger than I am: a very important fact. An age difference like
that may not make any difference when we're older, but right now, at 18
and 15, those three years make a world of difference.
hate sixth period
Study Hall, but even more than that, I hate
sophomore girls. I refuse to believe that I was
ever that immature and dumb.
December 20, 1975
I'm writing this a
couple of days later, and some important changes have taken place.
of all, I'm
sitting in bed on a frosty Saturday morning, and my head is spinning
with one HELL of
a hangover. I'm depressed, despite the fact that this is the first day
of Christmas vacation, and it's all because I've managed to get myself
into another mess with a boy.
we go again
Thursday afternoon I
had Driver's Ed after school, and when it was over at 5:00 I bundled up
in my heavy coat and long scarf and started walking home. I live about
a mile & a half from school, and it was cold as hell. By the
time I was a quarter of the way home, I was frozen stiff and wishing
desperately that one of my friends would drive by and give me a ride.
Just then, an unfamiliar blue truck coasted to a stop at the curb about
50 feet ahead of me. I saw two guys sitting in the cab, waving at me.
One of them was wearing a Glacier letterman's jacket, but I couldn't
see their faces. When I finally got close enough, I smiled. It was
Alan - the guy in my History class who has a crush on me - and
friend, Ed. They offered me a ride, so I gratefully climbed in and we
I was directing
them to my house, Alan asked if I was going to the wrestling match that
night. I said "I doubt it: Rhonda has to work, so she can't take me."
we pulled into my
driveway, Alan said, "You know, if you need a ride to the match, Terri,
I could pick you up and take you." I didn't know what to say, so I said
"OK, sounds good" and ran into the house. Well, to shorten the story a
bit, Lori and I went to the wrestling match that night with Alan
& Ed. When it was over and Alan had dropped Lori and Ed off, he
took me up to Mt. Burien to "park." He kissed me a few times, and he
was sweet and funny and gentle. I started wondering if maybe I could
like Alan as more than a friend. We talked a little bit, and when he
brought me home and kissed me goodbye I was in total confusion.
saw him a couple times
at school yesterday. Then last night we went to the basketball game at
school, against Auburn High School. We won, and it was a good game,
except that I was drinking and Alan wasn't and I think I made a fool
out of myself. He probably thinks I'm an idiot now.
went and parked at
Mt. Burien again, and he was all over me. He kept trying to feel me up
but I wouldn't let him. When he dropped me off at home, he
said he would call me sometime, "When it was convenient." That hurt my
feelings but I didn't say anything. I went into the house and went to
stupid thing about
this whole damned mess is that I've managed to make it seem more
important than it really is. Shit, I've been out with this guy TWICE,
and now if he doesn't call me today, I'll get all depressed and sulky
better get up. I
have a ton of housework to do and a shower to take and a hangover to
get rid of. I'll talk to ya later.
My Christmas shopping
money: $48.55 (not very much)
- Freddy Fender
album? glass froster? hot shave capsule?
Mom - plant? jewelry? perfume?
Dick - album
Debby - "Shrink Plastic"
Grandma Vert - some kind of knick-knack
Grandpa Vert - crossword puzzle book (as a joke), nice gift
Grandma St. John - plant
Chellaigne - joint gift w/Dad (earrings?)
on a Saturday
afternoon, and I am still sitting around, listening to the stereo,
wishing Alan would call, wondering where I'll scrape up the energy to
clean the house. I feel dead. I wish I wasn't so damned depressed about
Alan & our date last night ... but even more than that, I wish
he'd at least CALL me sometime today. That way I'll know whether I was
just a "one nighter" or not.
I'll go have some
unexpectedly at 8:00 tonight with two of his friends, Jeff and Dick. We
didn't do anything "exciting," just sat in the living room listening to
the stereo ...
the first nice guy
that's showed any interest in me since Steve and I broke up, so
naturally I've jumped into a one-sided emotional relationship with the
first person to come along. No precautions. No looking before I leap.
No checking the road ahead for potholes. Just plunge right in, Terri.
Start building up all your hopes and dreams and emotions around this
boy. Let him become the center of your entire existence ... and then
wait for the inevitable let-down.
TIRED. I MUST GO TO
morning 10:34 a.m.
December 21, 1975
woke up, and I feel
good. Hope that Dad and I get to do some Christmas shopping today.
of free time this
evening to sit around and relax and write. I hope that Alan doesn't
stop by unexpectedly again tonight: I'd like to go to bed early and
sleep late. I'm tired. This past week has been super-hectic, with the
Beach Boys concert and the choir concert and going out with Alan three
times and school newspaper deadlines and Christmas money worries. No
wonder I'm beginning to feel like an old, old woman.
Dad and I did a
lot of Christmas shopping, got our tree. The house really looks nice
turned out to be a
good day after all. First, Rhonda came over and spent the afternoon at
my house. She was really down in the dumps because she'd been involved
in a minor fender-bender, so we smoked some pot and felt better right
away. Sat, listened to records, laughed, talked.
tonight Alan called
and took me out. That was really a pleasant surprise, because I didn't
expect to hear from him. We went down to Southcenter to window-shop and
watch the crowds of people, then we went to Herfy's for a Coke. (Debbie
& Rhonda were there.) Then we came to my house, and since Dad
was already in bed, we had the place to ourselves. We watched some dumb
old movie and talked. I'm beginning to learn more about him, and
tomorrow - if I have the time - I'll have to discuss with you some of
the things I've discovered.
December 23, 1975
up feeling happy,
rested and relaxed. Last night with Alan was fun: it helped quell my
fear that he's just using me.
I want to clean my
bedroom - it is a MESS - and get over to Grandma's to wash some
came over tonight
for a little while, after Dad was in bed. We sat and watched "The
Rookies," but he was slightly preoccupied and restless. I can't figure
December 24, 1975
got so many things
to do today, but here it is noon already and I haven't even started.
Upset because the turntable on the stereo isn't working, for some
mysterious reason. It was working OK this morning. I would try to fix
it, but you know how mechanically inclined I am ... ha ha.
myself a stiff
drink, and now I feel hot, heavy and tired. How the hell am I ever
going to finish cleaning the kitchen, bathroom, living room and my
bedroom, PLUS wash my hair, take a bath, iron my clothes, finish
wrapping presents and get ready for tonight??? All I feel like doing is
don't know why I drink
so much. Do you think I could be an alcoholic?
bed - very drunk:
let me ramble
for now ... I'll explain
everything tomorrow. Thank God that nice guy with the beard picked me
up tonight or else I'd still be walking. I bet Mom knows I took the R
& R bottle.
am so drunk. I
got so drunk tonite. I
drank Jim Beam, vodka and God knows what else. I am so drunk. I can't
stand it. Phil called me tonite, I wonder why?
Terri! This song &
the Canadian whiskey was worth it - I am drunk as drunk can be, and I
have some advice for next year:
Don't go until
gifts for Jerry &
Jody and Dick & Ann
discreet about swiping booze -
I'm sure that EVERYONE knows I took it
suitcase, my God. And my thumbnail is so
short. Remember the plastic caught in your teeth? And remember ugly,
no-personality Kelly (Dick's friend)?
out of my mind at Grandma St. John's house
Clockwise from top: Stepbrother Pat Beeson, brother Richard Vert,
stepbrother Ronny Beeson, Debby Jeanne (in my lap), Mom
Christmas Eve 1975
took a hot bath,
and now I feel like going to bed. This has been a long day. I got so
drunk at Grandma St. John's on Christmas Eve, you wouldn't believe it.
I was drinking Canadian R & R, vodka, beer and everything else,
and by 9:00 I was totally and completely bombed. What a way to
we had the
traditional turkey dinner at Grandma and Grandpa Vert's.
dropped by tonite.
Christmas Day at Grandma & Grandpa Vert's; I am so hungover I can
Left: Grandpa Vert at the head of the table, cousin Chellaigne on the
other side of me
Right: Posing in front of Grandma's tree with Dad
December 26, 1975
day after Christmas
is usually an emotional/mental let-down for me. This year, though, it
feels just like any other day. Lazy, uneventful, unexciting.
didn't call at all
today, and I ended up sitting home alone this evening. What a
waste. Do you think I could possibly really like him? I
originally intended to keep it friendly and uninvolved. This may sound
callous, but I actually planned to go out with him during Christmas
vacation and then dump him as soon as school started again. Really
dumb, Terri ... things don't work that way. I'm not saying that I'm
falling in love with him or anything. I don't know Alan. I don't
understand him. At least, not yet. Maybe in time. But for the moment,
I'm saying that I like
him, I want to get to know him, and I don't care what other people say.
you know, he's
really pretty cute ... especially when he smiles.
got to make an
appointment at the Planned Parenthood clinic as soon as possible. My
abortion was over a month ago, and I should have a checkup to make sure
everything's OK. Not only that, I ran out of birth control pills a
couple of weeks ago, and for my own sake I should have the prescription
refilled. I'm not planning anything, with Alan or anyone else ... I'm
just trying to be open-minded and responsible.
Saturday evening 6:30 p.m.
December 27, 1975
I go out tonight,
or will I spend another lonely evening at home? I want to see Alan,
dammit, but he hasn't called in a couple of days and I get the
impression that things have cooled off between us. I don't want to sit
home alone tonite!!! If there's anything I hate with a
passion, it's a guy who just stops calling for no reason.
in my room,
slowly getting drunk (Coke in my whiskey), listening to spacey Led
Zeppelin music, burning sandalwood incense. I look great - my hair
curled nicely, makeup looks good, new peasant blouse and clean jeans.
Now if only someone would call ...
I'm drunk now ...
feeling better, simply
because I'm working more within myself now. Still wish Alan would stop
by - I'd like to see him - but if he doesn't, no biggy.
December 28, 1975
certainly feel like
shit this morning. Rick H. and I drank almost the whole bottle of
whiskey last night, and I got so drunk that my head feels like the
inside of a cement mixer. I didn't even want to go out with him last
night, but that asshole Alan never called, and I certainly didn't feel
like sitting home alone. Rick is nice, funny, an old boyfriend from
last spring, but it was dumb of me to go out with him again. We drove
around the Loop a few times, and then he took me to some deserted
dead-end street and promptly began crawling all over me. God, I HATE
guys like that. I stopped him before things got "carried away," and now
am I ever glad. I'm so disgusted with him that I don't care if I ever
see him again.
don't really feel all that bad about it. I mean, I'm not wallowing in
waves of guilt and remorse this morning. Actually, I'm quite pleased
with myself for choosing the way I wanted things to go, instead of
backing down and letting Rick do whatever he wanted out of fear he
might "hate" me if I didn't. I don't really give a shit WHAT he thinks
of me. It's MY body, MY feelings that I'm dealing with, and I'm sick
and tired of being used by stupid half-assed guys. It's my prerogative
to say "no" when I'm being pressured sexually.
got to go - Dad
& I are going to go get a hamburger. More later.
wonder why Alan has
suddenly stopped calling? It seems as though the only thing boys ever
ask me out for anymore is sex ... and then when I won't give them what
they want, I never hear from them again. Why? Take my
experience with Rick last night. I didn't really want to go out with
him in the first place. I definitely had no intention of sleeping with
him. When I resisted his advances, he went home ... and I'd be willing
to wager I'll never hear from him again. And that is SO
TYPICAL! Now Alan has stopped calling, and I have a feeling
the reason is the same. I haven't been complying with his "demands," so
he's decided to find someone who will.
December 30, 1975
I think I'm
living in my own private three ring circus. Things get so confused and
complicated and hard to deal with. I don't even know where my own head
sitting in my room,
listening to FM music, burning sandalwood, relaxing. Today was Grandpa
Vert's 70th birthday and (my half-sister) Debby Jeanne's 7th. This
evening Grandma St. John and I went over to Mom's new house and helped
Deb celebrate her birthday with cake, ice cream and presents. Deb is
getting so big. My God, I remember when she was just a baby, and now
she's growing up so fast. I asked her if she's happy to be seven years
old, and in typical Debby fashion she said, "Yah, but I can hardly wait
until I'm 18 so I can be as big as YOU are!"
while I was
gone, guess who finally called? None other than Alan. SHIT! Wouldn't
you know it?? It's been almost a week since he called, and when he did
call, I wasn't even home. SHIT! Well, all I can do is climb
back onto the merry-go-round of waiting and hoping that he'll call. (He
probably won't, though, after the rude way Dad talked to him on the
went out with Greg last night. We went to a movie and had a fairly good
time. Saw Robert
Redford in "Three Days of the Condor" and Gene Hackman in "Night
Moves." After the movie, Greg came home with me and we watched some
late TV. He was really nice, and I let him kiss me goodnight, but it
wasn't really all that thrilling. I mean, I'm not interested in a
continuing relationship with him. And
why should I? He was smart, good-looking, courteous, attentive,
funny ... all the things I loathed in a boyfriend.
December 31, 1975
woke up, feeling a
lot happier and more relaxed than I have in a few days. (Great: it's
the GOOD version of "Nights on Broadway.") Remembering that at least
Alan CALLED me last night ... at least he hasn't forgotten about me.
Makes me feel so much lighter, less burdened.
day. Dad is at the
doctor's. I don't know what I'm going to do today.
Even if it takes forever
I will wait
Even if it takes a lifetime
Somehow I feel inside
You never ever left my side
Make it like it was before
Even if it takes a lifetime ...
this is Alan's
favorite song they're playing on KJR right now - "Fifty Ways To Leave
Your Lover." I hate
is New Year's
Eve. What am I going to do to celebrate? Anything? Will I go out with
Alan? Or with Kevin? Or with Greg? Or will I go to the annual New
Year's Eve party at church (I HOPE not!)
Try not to die
of shock or anything, but Alan - remember him? - finally called and
asked me out. My God! I don't believe it. He said we're "going to
Jeff's house" ... I wonder what that means? A party? People? Drinking?
I'm so excited. I can't believe it. I still need to change my clothes,
fix my hair, make some last minute repairs on my makeup. He's coming in
half an hour. I've got to relax a little, do some back & neck
exercises, loosen up.
of Alan ... he's
45 minutes late. Well, at least I'm not nervous anymore, but I am
getting impatient. If there's one thing I hate it's being stood up.
you know what
time it is yes! It is 5:17
a.m. and I am pretty gosh awful drunk - but what a fun night! I'll
explain it all tomorrow, OK? OK!
A brand new year.
Lord, give me the strength & grace to live
and with a sense of values & renewed
to serve You in all things.
... to the whole thing right
it's too late and I begin to really care. After all, it's not too late
yet. We haven't done anything. We've come close but we haven't taken
the big plunge. Would it be wise to get out of it now?
Dad makes me SO
MAD! 7:20 a.m. and he still hasn't left for work ... he's lying in
there on his bed, making moaning noises, trying to make me believe he's
sick. Shit. If he expects me to call in for him, he's full of crap
because I'm tired of his immature little games. He's the biggest 41
year old baby I've ever known.
January 2, 1976
I could just cry.
Dad has ruined my whole, beautiful Christmas vacation. Why the hell
does he keep staying home from work with his phony little excuses??
Dammit!!! I was counting on two weeks of being home ALONE, having some
time to myself, to relax and unwind and do things that needed to be
done, and to enjoy some privacy. And now what does he do? Stays home every
fucking day this week.
I haven't had ONE MINUTE to myself all week. I can't invite friends
over, I can't play the stereo, I can't do anything but stagnate in my
bedroom. He was supposed to go back to work this morning, but instead
he gave his Sarah Bernhardt performance. He's at the grocery store now,
but I'm sure that the minute he comes back, the phony excuses will
start again. I can't take another day of it - hell, I'm going to go
over to Grandma's. It's not any more private, but it's one hell of a
lot better than spending another boring day with that hypochondriac.
I must have been
in a really bad mood when I wrote that. I have to admit that it would
be nice to have some time alone, but there's certainly no need to be
childish and self-centered about it. Just "suffer in silence," I guess.
Saturday nite 7:25 p.m.
January 3, 1976
phone hasn't rung
once all day, can you believe it? This has been one of the most totally
boring weekends of my life. Last night Alan didn't call; neither did
Greg or Kevin or anybody. I ended up sitting home, watching TV with
Dad. Not exactly exciting. Now it looks as though I'm fated to the same
dull evening again tonight.
DELIVERANCE!! Alan just called ... looks like I
might be going out after all.
will be here any
second -- and now I wish I wasn't going out with him. It will just be a
big repeat of New Years Eve, with him crawling all over me and me
trying to think up clever ways to avoid having sex with him. What do I
do, Lord? Is there anyway to get out of it?
(Some great Lynyrd Skynyrd song, the one about being as free as a bird)
Am I drunk? Yes, I believe I am, a little. I had one
HELL of a weird evening, I tell you! Alan, Jeff and I drove out to this
house in White Center where Jeff's girlfriend Ann was babysitting. It's
a long, long, complicated story so I think I'll skip it. A lot of
things happened - some good and some bad.
January 4, 1976
headache. Just swallowed a couple of aspirins.
tomorrow. In a
way, I'm glad ... vacation, all two weeks of it, was very relaxing and
unhurried, a much-needed rest. But I'll be happy to get back into the
mainstream anyway. At least I can "sleep in" until 8 a.m.,
thanks to my new Late Arrival status.
was a really great
day; it helped me forget all about my disastrous evening with Alan last
night. Maybe someday I'll write about last night, but right now I'd
much rather just forget about it. (I'll say this much: he could never
make me really happy.) Today was a great day, because I went back to
church after a three month absence - spent the day over at Phil's
house, just like old times - and then this evening I re-joined the
singing group. It was unbelievably good to be back. I guess I hadn't
realized how much I missed it.
January 5, 1976
feel kind of low
today. I think my period is going to come any time, which probably
accounts for my sudden tiredness & irritability. (I screamed at
Mr. Mjelde, my Drivers Ed instructor - "Would you please quit grabbing the
wheel?!") I've got to keep that in mind and not let my bad mood
of hand. Went back to school today ... it was OK, but Ledger, I'm so
BORED. Skipped History so I wouldn't have to face Alan. Guess I'm going
to be embarrassed to face him no matter how long I put it off. Third
period was Choir, and Mr. Purvis passed out some new music for us to
run through ... some old Negro Spirituals, and a difficult tune from
"Lost Horizon." Lunch wasn't much fun. Rhonda is suddenly cold and
distant, and I'm getting so sick of "me
& Debbie did this" and "me &
Debbie did that," I could
barf. Anyway, 4th period Journalism was BORING. If
Mr. Carmagnani thinks I'm going to be satisfied being the fucking Copy
Editor all year, he's got another thing coming. I didn't join
newspaper staff to spend the year correcting OTHER peoples' writing.
bright spot, as
always, was Stage Band. Nice to talk to Mark and all the guys again.
period on the
other hand was depressing. My Study Hall class is boring as hell.
just casting around,
looking for my place, somewhere I can belong. Shuffled through the
crowded hallways, thrown face-to-face with masses of mindless robots
for six hours of my life every day. Sometimes I love high school, and
the thought of graduating & leaving the old alma mater behind
makes me sad ... but at other times, like right now, I almost couldn't
care less about the whole damn thing.
you dream of a silver stallion
Riding high on the stars above
And then a night of love comes and carries you away
Then you dream of a thousand faces
Watching you on a the silver screen
Until the morning comes
And chases all your dreams away
Who you gonna be today?
Don't you know you're gonna dream your life away?
Jan. 6, 1976
time to write cuz
it's nearly 11:30 p.m. and I have to get up early. My bad mood is
(almost) gone. Guess it was just a case of the 24 hour Blue Meanies.
The world is in balance once again.
DO'S (IMMEDIATE AND LONG-RANGE)
- Make appointment with
- Make appointment with
Dr. Oliver (orthodontist)
- Finish "Insight" and
seal before Jan. 31 (I extended the deadline)
- Find someone to cut my
hair? (It's getting too long & out of control)
January 8, 1976
rained today ...
sheets of cold, depressing rain.
are beginning to
get me down. Pat and Glenn and all those guys are really giving me a
bad time, calling me names and making fun of me whenever I walk down
the hallway. I don't understand why they hate me all of a sudden. Wayne
Kremling has a girlfriend. Rhonda is nice, but she and Debbie are so
now that I feel like a third wheel around them. I don't have anyone to
talk to. I'm ten pounds overweight - and look it. I'm flunking History
again. I feel like a big, fat, sloppy, ugly mess, and no one loves me,
January 10, 1976
of nights later. The rain has stopped, but my listlessness and
boredom haven't. I managed to come down with the flu this weekend -
scratchy throat, aching head, dizziness, fever. I feel really rotten
physically, and naturally it hasn't done much for my frame of mind,
either. I'm stuck in bed, drowning my sorrows in orange juice and
aspirin and cough syrup. My voice is all but gone. I wouldn't be
surprised if I have mono or strep, or maybe something worse. After my
last date with Alan, all kinds of little white sores appeared in my
mouth, and this throat infection appeared shortly after. We
never did go all the way, thank God. What a mistake that would
week this has been. No one to talk to, nothing interesting to do. At
least I've started going to church again, and re-joined New Vision.
That gives me some consolation. Almost wish me and Phil could give
things another try, but I know that it wouldn't work out much better
than it did the first two times.
January 11, 1976
should I be
depressed? It's such a pointless state of mind to be in ... why not
just enjoy life, moment by moment, day by day ... ?
accidentally spilled a pan of hot grease on my left hand, burned 2
fingers and my palm badly.
January 13, 1976
Are you optimistic
About the way that things are going?
"No, I never ever think of it at all ...."
Still living - just living. Just getting by, living each day the best I
saw Steve yesterday,
and Ledger - I can't begin to explain what it did to me, seeing him
again after all these months. Just a split second glance - he was in a
passing car with his friend Steve Symonds - but I know
it was him. I would recognize him absolutely anywhere, I swear. It was
him. He saw me too - he looked right at me. Now all
I can think about is him. That stupid asshole ... he started screwing
up my brain and my feelings and my whole life the very minute I met
him, clear the hell back in June, and he's still screwing me up, eight
evening I've been
sitting here in my room (it's a mess), eating juicy chicken, listening
to the radio, avoiding Dan B.'s phone calls, digging around looking for
Steve's love letters. So sad to read them again. That familiar,
squished-together handwriting ... I know every letter by heart.
feel like crying. This
song on the radio fits my situation perfectly. My heart wants to split
I keep holding onto
Oh, I keep holding on ...
that just sound
like me? I mean, all I do anymore is "hold on to yesterday" ...
thinking about Steve & the way I blew it with him, thinking
about Phil & the way I blew it with him
... living in the past. Now my yesterdays have all gone dry, just like
the song says.
never have Steve
again. He'll never love me, not the way he used to. He'll never hold me
in his arms again, I'll never touch his face or tell him I love him or
make love with him again. It's dead, dried up, finished. I haven't seen
him since September 6th, the night I got pregnant, an eternity ago. So
why can't I just be realistic and forget about him, once and for all?
Maybe because I'm lonely. I miss him, but above all else I miss being
loved. There are so many things wrong in my life. I'd like something to
make it right.
is getting worse.
Terrible cramps 'cause my period started today. My hand is in that
stupid bandage (from burning myself). I'm a physical wreck.
January 16, 1976
few days later. My
cough is still bad. SO sick, in fact, that I stayed home from school
think I'll go to
the basketball game and dance tonight ... my cough is awful, I'd rather
stay home and relax in my room. Quite a few things have happened these
past couple of days, and I have a lot to think about.
not thinking about
Steve anymore. Seen in the cold light of reality, I know I was dumb to
think I could still love him. Considering the hell he put me through,
especially running out on me at the time I needed him most, when I got
pregnant ... how could any girl in her right mind carry a torch for
someone like that? I'm OVER him. There will be
occasional moments of weakness. I have to admit, during those rare,
few-and-far-between good times, things were very good. But I mustn't
let myself forget the bad times. It's only the memory of those bad
times that keeps me strong enough to stay away from him.
What A Night (December 1963)
been thinking about Phil, though. Last Wednesday night we went with a
bunch of kids to see "The Joyous Celebration" in concert at Glendale
Lutheran. After the concert, we went to Shakey's until 11:00. Had a
good time, talking and laughing over pizza and Cokes. Phil and I were
together most of the evening, and it felt so good. I hadn't realized
how much I'd missed his friendship. I'll see him again tomorrow night,
maybe, if I go to the Danny Taylor concert.
If I Only Knew (Ozark
for tonite, I think
I'll just stay home, maybe clean up my room or something.
January 19, 1975
been so depressed
lately. So many things on my mind. I've prayed, and I feel the warmth
of God's love within me, but there is still a sadness within my heart.
I need to talk to God about a lot of things, and I need some time to be
Dad hasn't been to work in nearly a month because of his stupid fakey
"illness," and I think I'm going to go crazy. There is absolutely no
privacy in this little shoebox of a house, and lately I've been
climbing the walls, craving some time to myself. School is a madhouse,
swarming with cold, hate-filled people ... and then coming home to this
house is not much better. I wish I had my Drivers License, a car, and
lots and lots of free time ... I'd drive out to the mountains
for a day, up to that spot where I went with Steve last summer
... sit by the river and throw stones and smell the trees and
think. Enjoy God's beautiful creation.
Tuesday night 10:30 p.m.
January 20, 1975
In A Puff Of Smoke
is in his radio
room, typing and talking on the CB radio, so I'm staying up
late too. Lori and I went to the basketball game tonight - we beat
Highline in a very close, very exciting game - but Herfy's afterward
wasn't much fun. Lori and I sat in one booth, but the only guy who came
over to talk to us was Jack Cupples. He sat across from me
cigarette, blowing his smoke in my face ... it was all I could do to
keep from gagging. Now I'm sitting in the living room listening to the
stereo, contemplating whether or not to wash my hair now or wait till I
go to bed.
at the game,
Mark came over and sat by me, and as a "joke" he reached over and
started holding my hand. Later at Herfy's he did the same thing. The
whole time he acted like he was just kidding around, but I have this
feeling that he really does like me (still). Every day during Stage
Band he always acts like that, calling me "Terri Dearest" and putting
his arm around me to make me laugh. I have to admit that I don't mind.
He's so cute, and funny, and fun to be with ... but I've said this
before and I'll say it again - he's too young. He's only a 15 year old
sophomore, and as I wrote in the beginning of this Ledger, that's a
three year gap in attitudes toward everything. I love him
like a best friend, but nothing more.
just waiting and
waiting for the right guy to come along. Seems as though I've really
had rotten luck with guys during this, my last year in high school. But
I guess that most senior girls have this problem. I just have to force
myself to wait for the RIGHT guy to come along, and not waste my time
with any more creeps like Alan or Rick H. I can do so much better.
Phil, by the way, will never again be anything more than friendship. I
can tell by the way he still carries a torch for Sherie. I'm sorry
about it, because I miss his love ... but I guess I should be thankful
that I still haven't blown his friendship, in spite of all the dumb
things I've done. The last time we were together I treated him like
dirt. I deserved to lose him. Oh yah, I still love him (and always
will), but it's got to be a secret between you and me, Ledger.
keep waiting for
good love, Terri.
January 21, 1976
(4th period) to begin. Brilliantly sunny day. Sitting at my desk,
listening to kids shouting out in the hallway. This period I've got to
work out a balanced feature page for the paper and measure the pictures
I'll need for Jim, the photographer.
"Heap of the Week" (Tony DeLorenzo)
"Career Corner" (Felicia Wiggins)
January 24, 1976
afternoon with absolutely nothing to do. I decided not to go to
(Rhonda's sister) Renee and Jeff's wedding today. My hair is too dirty,
for one thing, and also because I'd feel dumb showing up without a
date. Lori is taking Jeff Welk, and Rhonda is taking that
older guy she's been dating, what's-his-name. I'd feel out of
place, to say the least. Oh well. I've been sorting through a box of
old letters and notes (some of them date back to 5th grade!) Really
interesting, and fun to find old love letters from people like Kenny
... John Riley ... even that funny sweet note
Dave Loback gave me on the last day of 6th grade. Now I'm going to
watch one of my favorite old Shirley Temple movies ("Rebecca of
Sunnybrook Farm") and try to clean my bedroom a little.
B. asked me
to go to the movies with him tonight, but I really don't want to. He's
so sweet, but I just don't like him "that" way!!! I've got
to wash my hair, too.
... the house is
quiet, the world is quiet. I feel alone, isolated. What a wasted day. I
sat on my bed for twelve straight hours, watching TV and thinking. Not
exactly the most exciting way to spend a Saturday. I stayed home
tonite, too - no date, no parties, no going out with friends. I stayed
home and worked on my Insight notebook and watched TV with Dad and
listened to the radio.
where are you?
Real living - when do you start?
February 1, 1976
sorry that I haven't
written in you for over a week, but I LOST you ... I accidentally left
you over at Grandma's house without realizing it, and I just got you
back today. Boy, have I missed you!! I was so afraid that someone at
school had stolen you. God, what a horrible thought. This Ledger
reflects the very core of my thoughts ... my feelings, emotions, past
experiences. My soul lies naked on your pages. The idea of anyone
reading the things I've written here is nauseating to me.
for bed. I just
took a hot, soapy shower, washed my hair thoroughly and took off all my
makeup and shaved my legs and spritzed on some cologne, and now I feel
clean and sweet-smelling and tired. Ate a jumbo deluxe roast beef
sandwich with little sweet pickles and a big glass of milk. The house
is quiet. The clock on the wall quietly chimes the hour ... Benji Cat
is stalking around the living room, plotting his escape. I feel at
February 2, 1976
don't know why, but
I'm getting so depressed about graduating. It's only four months away,
and already I'm beginning to miss my happy high school days. What an
Tuesday night 11:15 p.m.
February 3, 1976
much my own person. Almost happy. The house is quiet. I'm all ready for
bed and pleasantly sleepy. Tonight was fun ... Lori and I went to the
basketball game at school (Glacier vs. Kentridge), and afterwards
we went to Herfy's. I was in an exuberant, unusually buoyant
mood. We had fun talking to Russ T. & Wayne K.
for right now, I'm
pooped. Rhonda and I are going to wear skirts to school tomorrow, so
I've gotta get up early and spend some extra time making myself
beautiful (a lost cause). Time for bed. G'nite.
February 10, 1976
week later. Sorry!
I've been busy. It's super-late at night, and I have this feeling I'll
never make it out of bed tomorrow morning. I've been so tired lately
... maybe because I haven't been eating properly or taking my iron ...
or maybe because I stay awake until all hours of the night, writing
senseless trash in my Ledger!! Whatever the reason, my energy level is
down in the basement.
during the past
K. likes me
now. All his friends are industriously trying to get the two
of us together.
Friday night I went
to this really DECENT party with Kathy Festa and Linda Dahl.
Everybody from Glacier was there, lots of beer and pot, and we all got
wasted beyond belief. It was so much fun. Pat was there- remember
him???? - and the way things worked out, him and I hung out together.
He actually KISSED me, and even tho we were both drunk, I wasn't too
far gone to enjoy it! Ever since then we've been smiling and saying hi
to each other again, just like at the beginning of this year, and it's
February 12, 1976
on my rumpled
bed. Waiting for "The Waltons" to begin ... it's supposed to be a good
one tonight, something about Mary Ellen reaching the "marriageable" age
and rebelling against it. Hmm.
got an interesting crank phone call
about half an hour ago. Some idiot whose voice I didn't recognize kept
asking me, "Don't you know who this is?" Finally he said, "This is MARK
- what are you doing?" (It wasn't my friend Mark from Stage
Band. This guy had a different voice.) In exasperation I
said, "What am I doing? I'm hanging up on YOU,
that's what I'm doing!"
do think I like Pat
again. Ever since that terrific party last Friday, I haven't been able
to stop thinking about him. For a while I was afraid that
maybe he was still in love with his ex-girlfriend, who had a baby a few
months ago. I see him talking to her in the attendance office all the
time, and it's kinda had me worried. But thank goodness! I found out
today that she is going with someone else now, and you have no idea how
relieved I was when I found out!
Friday night 7:16 p.m.
February 13, 1976
GUESS WHAT?? PAT CALLED ME THIS AFTERNOON!! Sitting in my room now,
drinking a Fresca & whiskey, getting ready to go to the game
with Debbie and Lori. Pat's gonna be there, so's Lori. Who knows what
Just got home, Ledj
... fuckin' drunk, tired, sore, wet. But happy (sorta)!
Saturday morning 9:12 a.m.
February 14, 1976
God. I only got about
three hours of sleep, and does my head ever feel like shit. (To put it
mildly.) Oh God. What a night I had last night. What a night.
believe what a night I had.
now I seem to be
recovering from my hangover. I'm sitting in the living room listening
to a Led Zeppelin album, downing a 32 ounce bottle of Fresca, planning
what to do this afternoon. My headache has dissipated; my stomach
doesn't feel like a gravel pit anymore. I'm a total and complete wreck,
but at least I feel good.
is Tolo (the
dance) and guess what? - I'm going after
all! What a
shock. I was sitting by Wayne during most of the game last night, and
thanks to Debbie's urging and Lori's encouragement, I scraped up the
nerve and asked him to go to the dance with me. He seemed to be really
surprised and happy about it, and we all had a good laugh about me
setting some kind of world's record - waiting until 24 hours before the
dance to ask. Russ is going with Denise Meredith; Rhonda is taking
the 6'7" basketball star at Highline High School; and since Russ
& Marlon & Wayne are all buddies, we'll probably all
hang out together. That'd be OK. I guess I'll wear my new choir formal,
the pink one, but I wish I had something a little sexier. Oh well.
Grandma and Grandpa are taking me to Burien around 3:00 to pick up a
carnation for Wayne, and I think I'll stop at Pay 'n Save and buy some
false eyelashes. Even if my dress isn't all that sexy, at least my face
night was so wild.
Debbie, Lori and I went to the basketball game at Highline High School
(we won), and I was really
drunk. I'd been drinking whiskey, and I felt
really good. I sat by Wayne during most of the game, up on the top row
of the bleachers; but during the fourth quarter I saw Pat come in with
his friends and sit a few rows below us. I was a little embarrassed,
and pretended to be really absorbed in the game, but I could feel his
eyes searching the crowd, looking for me.
the game Lori, Deb
and I went to Herfy's. We all sat in a booth and I was still drunk
& rowdy. I felt so good! Talked to a lot of people. Pat came in
with his friends, they were just standing by the door talking so I went
up and joined them. Pat was high, but he put his arm around me and
talked to me a lot. I loved it!
was only 10:00, so I
decided to go to a party with Wayne, Russ and Denise for a while. Pat
and I made plans to meet at Greg McKenna's house at midnight, and then
left with Wayne. The party was at Russell's sister's house: jammed with
people, drinking beer and dancing to Beach Boys music and talking.
Wayne, me, Russ and Denise found a couch and sat down - I sat on
Wayne's lap - and I drank two gigantic mugs of beer. By the time I
finished them I was bombed, and I couldn't shut up; I was talking to
total strangers. Wayne held my hand and pulled me through the crowd to
meet his big sister Karol, and she looked me up and down like she was
sizing me up, seeing if I was good enough for her baby brother. It was
My date was the very pleasant (and no doubt deeply disappointed) Wayne
A few days later?
call from Pat. Hmmm.
I'm feeling incredibly rundown and tired ... this has been one hell of
a wild weekend! ... but somehow I've got to scrape together the energy
to go to choir rehearsal in half an hour.
for my hot dogs
to cook. I'm not really very hungry ... I just feel tired, tired,
tired. A little depressed. The more I think about it, the more I wish I
wouldn't have met Pat on Friday night at Greg's. I don't think he's
called me since then (I still haven't asked Dad about it) and it's
becoming increasingly apparent that I was nothing but a "one-nighter."
He probably couldn't care less about me.
is all over my back,
merely because I failed to get all excited over the idea of driving the
Vega next fall, so I've holed myself up in my bedroom. Sitting on my
bed listening to the radio, drinking a glass of cold milk. My TV isn't
working, for some strange reason, so I guess I'll have to be content
with my little radio (Take It
To The Limit) and my ledger.
so TIRED. I know
I've said that already, but I want to emphasize the fact. I think that
being tired is what's making me feel so grumpy & lonely
night after Tolo,
back to my house. Dad wasn't home so Wayne invited himself in, bringing
his bottle of 151 with him. He offered me a drink but I said "no
thanks." We'd eaten dinner earlier at the South China Doll (incredibly
bad Chinese food), I was still massively hungover from the night
before, and my stomach simply flopped over at the thought of alcohol
February 16, 1976
woke up a little
while ago, and for some reason I feel almost good. I'm well-rested, I
have this feeling that everything is going to be all right. School
holiday today. Think I'll clean my room.
Feb. 17, 1976
bad sore throat.
The glands in my neck are all swollen and sore.
today was a
little depressing. Pat and I didn't say one word to each other all day;
and as if that weren't enough to hurt my feelings, I heard yet another
rumor that he's going to marry his ex-girlfriend after graduation. Mike
Baxter said he saw Pat & Donna this weekend with their baby. Is any
of this true? Am I wasting my time on an almost-married man?
February 18, 1976
stayed home from
school today, and Dad took me to see Dr. Hughes. I was right - I have
strep throat. Really feel rotten. I can't swallow anything at all, and
my entire throat is paralyzed with pain. I'll be out of school for the
rest of the week. In the meantime I'm dying of boredom, worry and
frustration. I'm bored because there's nothing to do; I'm worried
because I don't know what's going on with Pat; I'm frustrated because
there isn't a darned thing I can do about it, stuck here in bed.
sick these past
couple of days has really put me on edge around Dad. He's so negative
lately ... he makes cutting remarks about everything and everyone, he's
always complaining or fussing or swearing about SOMETHING. It's gotten
to the point where I can barely stand to be around him.
I wish I could move
out. I've got to break away before I completely lose my mind. Maybe
that's the way everybody feels at one time or another ... the desire to
leave the nest behind. I love Dad, a lot, but I can't stand feeling
confined like this. With just the two of us living in this tiny house
with the paper-thin walls, I never have a minute of complete privacy.
Everywhere I turn, he's standing there, watching my every move. I just
can't wait for the day I have a place all to myself. Bad news: you'll have to
wait another 21 years for that to happen.
INTENSE PAIN!!! I
just sneezed, hard, and it killed off my throat and my ears ...
Honey," Bay City Rollers
February 22, 1976
Hughes gave me (Keflex compound) worked wonders ... my sore throat and
fever disappeared the very next day. However, if it isn't one thing,
it's another. Now I'm stuck with a draggy cold, stuffy head and nagging
cough. Honestly. I seem to be sick more than anyone else I know. Just ask Aurora!
weekend was totally
dead. I stayed home Friday night, all day Saturday, and Saturday night.
Plus, nobody bothered to call, so I was pretty much isolated from the
outside world. I did housework, read a science fiction book, watched TV
and little else. Well - at least I'm rested and relaxed.
I went to choir
rehearsal, and for a change it was fun & we managed to get a
lot of work accomplished. Sherie wasn't there, and that put me into a
considerably happier frame of mind. I can never relax when she's
around. After rehearsal, Phil and Mike and me went to Karen's house ...
we played pool and listened to records in the rec room, and it
was nice to be with some of my old friends again without feeling
threatened by Sherie's presence. I know my attitude toward her is
wrong, and unhealthy, and sinful. For some reason I simply don't want
to love her. Part of it is jealousy ... her perfect blonde hair,
perfect blue eyes, perfect figure, the perfect way she handles herself
around boys, blah blah blah ... and part of it is resentment because of
the wall she's put between Phil and me. Seems as tho the more time I
spend with her, the more hatred and resentment I build up inside. One
of these days there will be a showdown. When it blows, everyone had
better run for cover ...
can't stand girls like
her. They seem so damned beautiful and flawless, and after talking to
them for even two minutes you get the feeling that your bra strap
is showing and your nose is peeling and your mascara is running. Girls
like her make you feel so inadequate. People have told me that I'm
pretty, but I still feel insecure. I try to focus on my good points -
my long shiny hair, super-long eyelashes, almost-completely-clear
complexion - but then all my flaws starts to outweigh everything else,
and suddenly I can't see anything but my big hips and my stubby
fingernails and my too-big feet and my Mickey Mouse ears. I know this
sounds petty, but insecurity is an awful thing to deal with and people
like Sherie don't make it any easier.
report: still no word from or about Pat M, but I'm taking it well.
Wayne is very obviously still mad about what happened after the dance,
but I DON'T CARE. Mark asked me to "go steady"
last Friday ... I offered him what I hope was a gentle refusal.
Monday night 7:41 p.m.
February 23, 1976
sniffles are getting
worse and worse. Feel awful, still. Managed to drag myself to school in
spite of it, but during Stage Band, when I stood up to go to the piano,
I suddenly felt like I was going to pass out, right there. Absolutely
every bit of color drained from my face, Mark told me. He
grabbed my arm and said "Are you OK?" He is so
sweet. He bought some new
shoes that make him about two inches taller than me. I almost had to
laugh, it was so pathetically sweet and funny. He said, "Now that I'm
taller than you are, will you go out with me?"
for Pat, he got a
haircut over the weekend, really short, but surprisingly it looks nice
on him. Lori looked at him this morning and said "My God! He looks
just like Tony Orlando!" I actually had
one brief, unexciting chance to talk to him. I said, "Hey! Your hair
looks nice!" He smiled, shrugged and said "Yah, well, it's short."
His friends starting hooting and making fun of him when they saw us
talking. I guess that's their problem, not mine.
February 24, 1976
is slipping away so
fast ... my precious senior year is drawing to the inevitable close. We
got our senior keys last week; now we're nominating people for the
"Seniors Choice" popularity polls and submitting ideas for class song,
flower, motto and colors. Talk is of Senior Prom and Leonard Morgan's
graduation bash and scholarships and college applications. In a way
it's all very exciting and happy and optimistic; but still I feel sorta
sad when I realize that the twelve happiest years of my life will soon
be ended. Twelve long years since I was Mrs. Lehman's "star pupil" in
Room 4 ... the funny little girl with the ribbons in her hair and the
irrepressible desire to be somebody "big"
may not be the
best high school in the country - it may not be the biggest or the
newest or the most modern - but it's my beloved alma mater, home of the
blue & gold Glacier Grizzlies. I've done more growing and
changing and developing during my three years at Glacier than at any
other time or place in my life. For that reason I'll always think of
these walls with a special fondness and warmth.
years ago I was a
lonely, introverted little sophomore, clinging to my boyfriend
Clarence, afraid to talk to people, sullen and withdrawn, intimidated
by the people I thought were "better" than me (the cheerleaders, the
athletes, the seniors). I stayed inside my little world with Clarence,
completely isolated from the other kids. It was only after Clarence and
I broke up and I was forced to expand my world that I really began to
function normally within the high school world. At the time I thought
Clarence and I breaking up was the worst thing that had ever happened
to me. Now, though, I can look back on that unhappy time and say,
"Thank you, God, for making it happen exactly the way it did!" It
literally forced me to open up to other people, make new friends,
become a part of the class of '76.
are still kids I
don't associate with around school - that's normal - but I no longer
feel so intimidated. On the whole, most of the kids in the senior class
relate to each other. I can talk to a cheerleader without feeling like
a nobody ... I can see the pimples on her forehead as well as my own.
I've come to realize that a lot of the people I thought were too
perfect and popular for me to even think about talking to are just as
human as I am. I've dated some of the most popular guys in the school -
something I thought was an impossible dream, back in my Clarence days!
The parties that I go to are the same parties I once only heard about
on Monday mornings. In other words, I've become a part of things.
That's one way I've grown during my high school years, and I thank God
for it. I thank Him that people grow and change and mature. Although
I'm going to hate like anything saying goodbye to Glacier, I'll always
be a part of the class of '76.
the meantime ... I've
got to start PRAYING that someone asks me to the Senior Prom ....
February 25, 1976
I can't believe
this. I can't. Guess who just called me after nearly six months of
other than STEVE.
I happy? Am I scared?
Maybe both, but what I'm feeling most of all is an overwhelming sense
of déjà vu. I knew he
was going to call. I just knew
that one day I would pick up the phone and he would be on the other
end. The feeling was getting stronger and stronger lately, and even my
recent preoccupation with other guys didn't ease the feeling inside of
me that our story - Steve's and mine - wasn't yet over.
talked for 15
minutes, and I felt unbelievably calm, relaxed and peaceful. We talked
about what we've been doing the past six months - working, going to
school, partying, etc. - and he said "I've thought about calling you a
few times lately, but I was too chicken." That made me feel suddenly
very tender towards him. He also asked me - very awkwardly - about the
abortion, and I briefly and somberly gave him the details.
it," was all he offered in the way in the way of apology.
going to call me
sometime this weekend - at least, he said he would. Oh, I pray that he
does. I pray that he does.
... will I ever be
able to say goodbye to you?
I hope I can
crawl out of bed tomorrow morning at 6:30 a.m. and make it to school on
Study tonight. Instead of our usual routine of Scripture
lesson and evaluation, we had an hour and a half of sharing, singing,
praising and praying for each other. It was really neat, and I wish we
did it more often .... it sure beats the boring studies we usually
have. I sat by Phil and Debbie Sherman. Deb is such a sweet person, so
hurt, and when John broke up with her two weeks ago, it almost killed
her. She still loves him, very deeply. During the sharing time she
wrote me a little note, begging me to talk to John for her (he's in my
Stage Band class). She wants him back so much. She gave me a ride home
after Bible Study. Still raining/snowing, bitterly cold.
still trying to
recover from my little heart attack this afternoon - the shock of Steve
calling me. Ledger, I simply don't know what to do about it.
Ledger, I just had
to find you and write a
word or two. I haven't even gone to school yet, but I'm already drunk
on my rear end (whiskey in my orange juice) and I feel so good, so
unbelievably good. Happy, whole, complete. I'll probably get to school
by 3rd period - that's an hour & a half from now - and in the
meantime I intend to sit here in the living room, listen to music,
think about Steve and feel so good. My body is intoxicated but I can
still think and feel clearly enough - it's the perfect high. High
enough. Every time I think about Steve calling me yesterday, I feel so
good & happy, I could just cry. Then, this song reminds me so
much of him ... that night we got together ...
really good. School in 50
minutes. Listening to my favorite songs, still thinking about Steve. I
Sitting here in
Choir (3rd period),
listening to Mr. Purvis explain music to the choir. I am so drunk and
feel so good. Just went up to the 100 building girls can to fix my lip
gloss and my eye makeup and my hair. Lori has gone to her dentist
appointment. Both her and Rhonda are here this morning: they BOTH
forgot to pick me up. What a warm, cozy feeling sitting here in this
choir class. I feel so good being in high school, right smack dab in
the middle of everything. I almost wish I could be drunk all the time.
Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy.
(Scott Shearer is staring at me - I think I'll smile at him in a
They're passing in their papers. I think I'll go play the piano,
probably very badly.)
am so DEAD TIRED. What
an exhausting day. I managed to get myself roaring drunk before I went
to school, and it was one hell of an unorthodox day. Could barely play
the piano in choir. Mark came over to my house tonite, we watched TV
together until 11:00, and when he left he kissed me goodbye. I feel
kinda guilty about that, since I don't know how I feel about him and
because of Steve, but I have to admit, he's a good kisser!
February 27, 1976
Friday afternoon 5 p.m.
I hope I go
somewhere tonight ... anywhere, I don't care. I'm beginning to get that
boxed-in feeling again, and I've got to get out of this
house. (My new friend) Joada Brown asked me to go to a party
with her tonight, and I probably will, but not until I've given Steve a
chance to call. I want to go somewhere, get something to
drink, relax, talk to people, have some fun. If I don't, I will go
in my chilly little bedroom, listlessly twisting the radio dial,
waiting for a phone call. I really don't want to go out with Joada, but
Debbie & Rhonda have "other plans" and it looks like the invite
from Joada is as good as it's going to get.
My new pal Joada was a giddy free spirit
February 28, 1976
am very happy ... I
don't even know where to begin explaining it all to you. Sitting on my
rumpled bed, my freshly-washed hair drying in a fluffy red towel,
watching an old Shirley Temple movie ("Wee Willie Winkie"), eating cold
pizza and drinking a Shasta cola.
March 3, 1976
I haven't written
since Saturday, I've been really busy. Lots of parties, going places
with Joada. Pat M. is an asshole, and
March 4, 1976
interrupted every time I start to write to you, Ledger. Last night when
I was writing, Joada called, and I became so engrossed in her phone
call that I forgot to finish what I'd started to write. Now I have a
free minute or two to write, and I'll attempt to catch you up on the
latest news. I have a job interview tonight at 8:00 - I'm thinking
about working at the Jack In The Box restaurant in Burien - but until
then I'm just going to sit here in my comfortable old armchair, listen
to Led Zeppelin albums through the headphones, sip my Coke on ice and
would be nice if I
could get that job. For one thing, I don't have any money in the bank
at all, and for another, I need to save towards a car for next fall.
Jack In The Box probably sells the worst food in town, but at least
it's a job. Maybe even a chance to meet people, who knows?
and I are really
becoming good friends. She's a sophomore, really cute and really nice.
Friday night we went to Blake Early's party, and it was super- fun. I'm
glad I went. Saturday night we went to another party at Blake's, and
then she spent the night at my house (we sacked out in my living room -
she took the couch, I took Dad's reclining armchair). She stayed at my
house all day Sunday, and then I spent the night at her house Sunday.
After school on Monday we went to Burien to
window shop at Fred Meyer, and to apply for a couple of jobs. Tuesday I
stayed home sick with a sore throat but she called me after school.
Yesterday Steve Peterson had a party at his house, so Joada and I
skipped our afternoon classes and went to it. We both got really wasted
... lots of good beer, good music, people to talk to.
good friends, with a lot of similar experiences and attitudes.
not sure how I feel
about Steve. I saw him on Saturday night for a while, and even though I
was pretty high, it was good to see him again. He's living in an
apartment with his mom, and he's let his hair grow out long, but other
than that he's the same old Steve that I've always known &
loved. He took Joada and me to his apartment for a little while, where
we drank tequila sunrises and talked and looked at each other a lot. I
just couldn't take my eyes off him. We sat there at the kitchen table
and smiled at each other, a little embarrassed, and the whole time I
was thinking to myself, "Do I
still love him? Should I try to give him my love again?"
I still haven't sorted out my feelings, but apparently he feels the
same way. He calls me almost every evening, and when we were talking on
Tuesday he said, "I want to take it nice and slow this time, not rush
into everything like we did last time."
the meantime, I dug
around in my jewelry box and managed to find the ring he gave me last
summer - now I'm glad I didn't do anything with it! - and after
polishing it, I intend to wear it at all times.
interview at Jack In
The Box was slightly disappointing, to say the least. It doesn't look
like I'll be getting a job there - not for a while, at least. Oh well.
I've waited eighteen years to find employment ... I guess another few
weeks won't make much difference.
called tonight at
7:30, said he'd call back at 9:00, but that was half an hour ago and I
feel like going to bed. Think I'll just take the phone off the hook and
hit the sack in a couple of minutes. That way Dad won't be wakened by
the phone ringing (and my neck will stay intact) ...
I was talking to
Steve tonight, I told him "You don't have to feel obligated to call me
every night. It's not necessary - unless you want
to." I have to admit I was surprised when he said,
vehemently, "I WANT to." That is out of character for him. Steve hates,
with a passion, any type of "rules."
March 5, 1976
... another long weekend ahead of me. Joada and me will probably go to
a party somewhere tonight, at least I HOPE we do! This was such a good,
sunny, relaxing day at school, I want this happy feeling to continue
right into the weekend. I feel like spring ... uninhibited, young,
pretty, free to do whatever I want. This feeling is good.
March 6, 1976
got home. Joada and
I did go to a party last night, and then I stayed over at her house.
Her mom's boyfriend, Dick, drove me home this morning. I discovered I
was locked out of the house again - damn, why do I always leave my
house key on my dresser?? - but I managed to pry Dad's bedroom window
open with a hatchet and climb through. First thing I did was take a
long, hot, soapy shower and douse myself with tons of baby powder. I
had to sleep in my clothes last night, and I HATE the sweaty feeling it
leaves you with. Now it's about 11:00. I'm going to fix myself some
breakfast in a minute, and then I have a full day of housecleaning
ahead of me. I don't really mind. Dad is at work, so I have
the whole house to myself: cleaning it gives me a kind of cozy, secure
feeling, makes me feel like it's my own little apartment ...
one more thing
before I go. Last night when Joada and I were at that party in Burien,
she called Paul S. and told him that she's pregnant. She isn't really -
she just said that to scare the shit out of him, because of the rotten
thing he did to her last weekend & the shitty way he's been
acting this week. Tonight her and I will probably go to Joe's party,
and it should be interesting to see how Paul acts around her now.
I'd started having
occasional black-outs, especially when drinking hard liquor.
March 7, 1976
should never drink
vodka. Every time I do, I end up losing my mind completely. Last night
me, Joada and Sharel all chipped in on two fifths of vodka and a couple
bottles of orange juice, and then we drank screwdrivers all night. I
got completely smashed, and as usual I don't even remember where I was
or what I was doing from about 11 p.m. until 2 a.m. or so, when I
finally snapped out of my fog. That's three hours of my life I cannot
account for. We went to a gigantic party at Thorndike Community Center
... there was close to 300 people there, with a live band providing
dance music, but it was a "byob" party and not a keg. Lots of kids from
Glacier, Evergreen and Highline. Joada got SUPER mad at me because I
was sitting there holding hands with Chris Russell, and I guess she
him. I don't know why we were holding hands, but I was stoned and
didn't really know what I was doing. We went outside for a little while
to "get some air" and we sat on the hood of somebody's car, kissing.
Hmmmm. Anyway, I talked to Sharel on the phone this morning and she
said that Joada was so mad at me, she couldn't do anything but scream
during the ride home. I feel bad about that, but what can I do? I told
Sharel, "I can't keep track of her! She likes someone different every
10 minutes. How was I supposed to know she liked Chris?"
Sharel left the party without me, and I don't know what the hell I did
for the next three hours, until the party ended. I must have just sat
in the kitchen, watching the dancing. This really nice guy, Craig
gave me a ride home when the party was over.
really am tired, but
for some reason I can't seem to fall asleep. The excitement of this
past weekend has left me feeling keyed-up and restless and unable to
relax. I've been drinking and smoking and partying an incredible amount
lately ... continually going, doing, rushing around ... and it's taking
its toll on me. I know I'm going to be dragging my butt around school
tonight, but I'm not worried about it. His little nephew Sean is having
a birthday party this evening. I saw Steve's mom at Fred Meyer this
afternoon - I recognized her in a flash. She's a very distinctively
attractive person. It was a shock to see her standing there, looking at
linens. I haven't seen her since last June, when she asked me "What the
hell do you see in that son of mine?" I'm fairly sure she didn't
recognize me, although she seemed to look at me carefully for an
instant, before resuming her shopping. I didn't want to say anything to
her. For one thing, I was a total wreck ... dirty hair, sloppy old
clothes, slipshod makeup ... and for another, I don't know if she knows
that Steve and I are seeing each other again. Steve never talks about
her, except for an occasional fond mention of his "old lady."
he didn't call
tonight, and I spent a semi-pleasant evening watching TV with Dad,
washing my greasy hair, catching my diary up to date. Joada called a
few times, and what a relief to know she's not mad about the Chris
thing. She said she really doesn't like him, but that she just got "too
high" at the party and didn't know what she was saying. I can
empathize. Joada said that all kinds of guys were trying to put the
hustle on me last night, when I was too drunk to know what I was doing;
she saw Chris kissing me in the kitchen, and ten minutes later she
saw John Beck kissing me in the same place. Wow. That blows my mind
because I don't even REMEMBER seeing John there at all.
no more vodka for
Terri Vert. At least, not unless I have someone like Steve right there
watch me. Vodka isn't even worth it, anyway ... I feel like shit for
three days afterward. I'll stick to beer, I think.
my eyelids are
starting to grow heavy. Time to hit the hay. Goodnight, friend.
March 8, 1976
it, Ledger ... I knew I would oversleep
this morning. Now I'm going to be late getting to school. Oh well ...
my attendance record hasn't been that great this year, anyway.
sipping hot coffee, watching "Good Heavens" with Carl Reiner. Relaxed,
unhurried, alone, private. Today was a less-than-OK day at school: all
my jeans were dirty, and my only comfortable shoes were over at
Joada's, so I felt kinda uncomfortable and awkward in my
emergency-use-only blue pants and sandals. That did a lot to affect my
outlook, and I didn't feel very good about myself. I didn't make Girl
of the Month, either, which of course doesn't surprise me a bit. I'm
shocked that I was even nominated. Oh well, so what. Twenty years from
now, my not being voted Girl of the Month won't make a bit of
is Dad's night
off. So while he's back in the radio room typing and making noise, I'm
sitting out here in the living room, savoring the feeling of being
semi-alone and free to do whatever I please, whether it be listening to
the stereo or playing the organ or just sitting. I was kinda hoping
Steve would call me and I could invite him over to
March 9, 1976
Ledger, why am I so
damned stupid? Nothing I do, nothing,
ever turns out the way I think it should.
doesn't love me.
He told me so tonight when he called at 10:30. He said he wants to slow
down and "take it easy" ... that he was too high on Saturday night, and
didn't mean the things he said. Oh God, why did I ever let myself get
involved with him?
March 11, 1976
really was dumb of me
to think I had a future with Steve. I'm ashamed of myself for being so
naive. He'll never change, and neither will my attitude towards him:
I'll always love him a little too strongly for my own good, and he'll
always back away at the first sign of possessiveness. It will never,
ever work out, and I was a fool to think otherwise. We're
"just friends" now ... or to put it in Steve's
exact words, "We like each other a lot, but nothing more than that." He
called a few minutes ago (10:30 p.m.) and asked me out for Saturday
night, but I said I'd already made other plans. That was a lie, but I
almost think I'd rather not see him at all than see him as "friends."
the meantime, Scott
Shearer - this really sweet, super-cute guy that I've been buddies with
since the dark ages of 7th grade - called me up this afternoon and
asked me to go to The Who concert on March 25. Can you believe it? That
concert has been sold out for weeks. I told Scott I would love to go.
guess I've decided to
just slow down in the boy department for a while. These past few months
have seen me make a lot of really terrible mistakes.
March 13, 1976
terrible - which is
normal for a Saturday morning anymore. My head feels like a lead
balloon, and my stomach feels like a gravel pit. Guess I had more to
drink last night than I thought. I have one hell of a headache, and
this whole stupid house to clean up. Shit. Not only that, Joada
& Scott are probably mad at me for not leaving Corey's
apartment when they did ... Pat's probably mad at me because we never
showed up at Paul's ... Steve's probably mad because when I finally did
leave last night, it was with Corey ... and Dad's probably mad because
I came stumbling in at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. before crashing into
bed. It was a screwy evening, trust me.
March 17, 1976
St. Paddy's Day!
Sitting in the living room on our lumpy old sofa, listening to the
clock ticking gently, the hum of the refrigerator, the occasional
passing of a car outside, the rumbling drone of the airport a couple of
miles away. Dad is in bed already. It's only 8:30, though, and I can't
sleep yet. Don't feel like watching TV, so I thought I would just sit
up and maybe read for a while (I'm reading "Paper Moon" by J. David
Brown). My period started this evening so I feel kinda frumpy &
crampy & quiet. All kinds of thoughts rambling through my head.
Haven't heard from Steve since Sunday afternoon, when he asked me to go
motorcycle riding with him and I said "no" because I was on my way to
New Vision rehearsal ... but I'm not exactly sure if I care or not. Via
the Glacier grapevine, I happened to learn that he's taking Kathleen
to the Who concert next week, and that hurt my feelings. I knew he had
tickets, but I guess I figured he'd eventually ask me. Oh well. I'm
going to the concert with Scott Shearer, Jerry Wagner and Joada, so I
complain. The concert is going to be one of the biggest events of this
year, so I should feel lucky that I'm going and flattered that Scott
thought enough of me to ask me. Right?
just called ...
lately she's been bombarding me with phone calls. She wanted me to go
to Pizza Haven with her tonight, but I didn't have the money, the
appetite or the energy. She just called to tell me that Pat was there
tonight with all his buddies. Too bad I missed it.
can't figure Pat out.
He called me five times last weekend, but at school he spends all his
time with his ex-girlfriend. Shit. Men are all the same.
lately ... there is so much to contend with. All the hassles with Steve
and Pat, financial problems, drinking too much again, worrying about my
brother, fighting against time ... sometimes it all seems like too
much. Lately I've been feeling really down on myself. I know I've been
eating way, way too much, and it's starting to show on the bathroom
scales AND on my hips. When I get depressed, or worried, or nervous, I
eat ... and eat ... and eat. I just don't feel attractive. People say
that I am, especially guys, but have you ever tried convincing yourself
that you're pretty when all you can see are heavy hips, scraggly hair
and a pumpkin-shaped face .. ?? The trick is to organize myself. Start
cutting out all the excess food - the french fries and Coke at lunch,
the after-school potato chips and ice cream, the pizza for dinner, the
bedtime sandwiches and chocolate milk. Start eating the right types of
food, the healthy things that will put my body back into working order.
Keep myself too busy to think about eating ... maybe set a goal to
seriously practice the organ at least half an hour daily, or clean my
room (now declared an official disaster area). Stop worrying about all
the little mind-picking things that have been bringing me down and
making me tear myself apart. Stop worrying about Steve & Pat,
guys in general, Sherie S., clothes, graduation, not having a car or a
job. If I could just accomplish a few of these things, it might be the
beginning of greater peace of mind.
March 21, 1976
you believe it's
nearly 1:30 in the afternoon and I'm still sitting in bed? I haven't
even gotten dressed yet. In fact, the only things I've done are ate a
ham sandwich, brush my hair and talk to Lori on the phone. (She called
to tell me all the details about her "big date" with John Moen last
night.) For some reason I just have no energy at all. None. Zilch.
Nada. I feel like just sitting and thinking and resting. I've been
partying steadily since Thursday morning, and I'm beginning to feel
very burned out.
been going out with
Scott almost exclusively, and although he is the sweetest, funniest,
most polite & considerate guy I've gone out with in ages, I
can't seem to really feel much for him beyond friendship. I guess I'm
too hung up on the bad boys, Steve and Pat. Hell, I don't know. I can't
figure myself out.
is such a total asshole ... you would NOT
believe what he did on Thursday night. He called me about 6:00 that
evening and asked, "What are you doing tonight?" I told him I was
going to the dance at Thorndike Hall. He said, "Oh, OK, I'll call you
tomorrow and maybe we can do something then." Fine. So I
went to the
dance with Scott and Joada, and we got really wasted, feeling good,
having fun, when Steve walks through the door. It looked like
he was alone, so I got up and went over to talk to him.
does he do? "Please go away, Terri," he hissed. "I'm
dating someone else tonight, and if she sees you talking to me she'll
get mad." I couldn't believe it, but he was serious! He was with Lesia
S., of all people ... but that wasn't what made me mad. It
was his careless brush-off that really hurt.
he called and started yelling at me, accusing me of being "rude." I
just couldn't handle his accusations, but I didn't want a big blow-up
either. So I just said "I've got a right to be mad, too," explained my
feelings and left it at that. I was still shaking when I hung up the
... last night
Scott drove me down to Chuck's house. Chuck is 21, and I wanted him to
buy us some beer. What I didn't count on was Steve
answering the door! I had no idea he'd be there. I
had to come in, sit down and wait while Chuck went across the street to
the Deli to buy us a case of Rainier. While I sat there, I pointedly
ignored Steve. Finally he came up and said "How come you're being so
snotty to me?"
looked at him and said carefully, "Because you're mad
at me, aren't you?"
got all defensive and said "no" and started
making all kinds of excuses, and suddenly I knew I had the upper hand.
He was drunk, a glass of vodka in his hand, and suddenly I just KNEW
that I was in control of the situation, and that for once I had his
feelings in my hands. It was a great feeling, and I took complete
advantage of it. He was actually jealous!
He was jealous that Scott was
waiting outside for me in a beautiful car, jealous that I was going
over to Corey's apartment with Scott, jealous that I looked good and
that I could simply walk away without a backward glance. It was kind of
intangible ... a feeling, a sense that I can't put into words. For a
change, it was me who could manipulate him ... make him bleed and cry
and beg. When I was leaving with my beer, he said "Come back here later
tonight, OK? In a couple of hours?" All I said was "Maybe." Of course,
I never went back, and I hope it made him MAD. I hope it just killed
March 22, 1976
a "breather" ...
this is the first evening in several days that I've just sat home
watching TV & resting. This past month has been a constant rush
of going, doing, partying, and it feels kind of good to just put up my
feet and relax for a change. Steve called an hour ago. He wanted me to
go out with him tonight, but I said "no." I would really like to see
him, but not tonight for a few different reasons:
I look terrible ... I
was up all night last night and I look like death. My hair is dirty, I
haven't so much as a scrap of makeup on my face, and if he saw me right
now he would probably think twice about ever calling me again.
I'm dead-tired ...
My back hurts. It
feels like I've pinched a nerve or whacked something of place. I can
Steve was drunk, or
at least in the process of getting that way, saying a lot of things he
probably didn't mean, and I don't really like to be around him when
he's in that condition.
We talked for an hour,
and he said he'd call me back around 9:30. Just from talking to him
tonight, I get the impression that he definitely does care about me. I
know he does. I can tell by the way he was talking about me going out
with Scott, and other subtle things. That's kinda nice to know,
March 23, 1976
ate a big dish of
spaghetti and hot bread, and now I'm sitting on my bed relaxing and
hoping that I go somewhere tonight. Joada wants me to spend the night
at her house, but I'm looking for a tactful way to turn her down. I
can't stand the atmosphere at her house ... people are continually
screaming, arguing, shouting at each other. I don't know how anyone can
stand to live
I would really like
to do is to see Steve, but he hasn't called all day. So it looks like
I'll either end up going out with Scott or else sitting home alone.
feel kind of depressed
and I don't even know why. Rainy, grey, dismal skies ... the kind of
day that makes it feel good to be holed up in a cozy bedroom with a
radio playing softly, clean long hair, scrappy old jeans ...
Still, I feel hollow and dried up. Even lonely. I guess the things that
are getting me down are the intangibles - the things I can't put into
words. This feeling of guilt, for one thing. I just feel as though
everything I've done has been the wrong thing, as though I should be
ashamed of myself. Then there's this growing sense of uncertainty. Am I
wrong to still love Steve? Should I be leading Scott on? Am I
associating with the wrong people? Am I the kind of person I should be?
do I always envelope
myself in lies and deceit? Why can't I be open and truthful with people
I care about? Why is it always necessary for me to hide behind things
that are false? Why do I lie so much?
could resolve to be
absolutely truthful from now on, with everyone I come in contact with
... I could vow "No more lying" ... I could swear on a stack of Bibles
that I was all through with dishonesty of any kind. No more little
white lies. No more exaggerations. No more two-timing behind anyone's
know how long I'd
probably make a resolution like that stick? Maybe ten minutes - if I'm
lucky. And even if I did manage to make it stick, there would be so
many other things, so many other faults, that would still be
unresolved. Every time I managed to straighten out one facet of my
life, there would be another hundred new
problems staring me in the face. There's just no solution.
(handwriting is barely legible)
Geez, I was busily
sleeping until I came up with the neat idea of writing in my ledger.
too drunk and high, I guess, which isn't such a good idea since I have
to get up at 6:00 to iron dad's shirt and pretend to babysit with
joada. you know how it is. I think pat m. is a fucking asshole - I love
steve - scott is super-nice - rocky m. tried to pick me up. etc. etc.
etc. song? "one toke over the line" at 2:13 a.m. way too high. shannon
knight. I really am too high, but maybe this is the time i'm most
honest and open with myself. the who concert tomorrow! decent.
... what the hell
happened to me last night??? I have this horrible feeling that I passed
out on my bed right after I wrote in you, Ledger, and then
unconsciously made a lot of noise or something.
not sure, but I think this is the
time I blacked out and tried to crawl into bed with my understandably
March 26, 1976
is so wild! I've
never felt this alive, this free. This Spring Vacation has been so much
fun - I wish it could go on & on!
and I had a horrible
fight a few minutes ago ... he called me a "lazy, inconsiderate,
selfish little tramp." That's it. I've had it. I just can't handle
that!! Steve is taking me out tonight, and I don't think I'll come home
tonight - I'll have him take me over to Corey's or Wendall's, somewhere
I can crash, relax and get away from Dad.
March 27, 1976
just got home from
work an hour ago, and we haven't spoken so much as one word to each
other. Even though he's out in the living room (watching "The Outer
Limits") and I'm hibernating here in my room with Robin Trower on the
radio, the atmosphere in this house is very tense. I didn't come home
last night, and I swear to God the air is so hostile I'm scared to even
walk down the hallway to the bathroom. Wow, this is really wild!
saw Steve last night,
and we had a really good time together. He finally broke down and
admitted, once and for all, that he loves me - and he was perfectly
straight at the time. He said that he "feels good every time he's
around me," and that he wants to start doing more things for me, to
prove that he cares. We were talking about what it will be like when
we're married, and I don't know, Ledger ... it certainly sounded nice!
up going out with
Scott tonite (although both Pat & Steve called) and was it ever
a DRAG. We went to two parties, and Scott got way too high on some
Angel Dust we smoked at Mike M.'s. He was practically o.d.ing, and he
couldn't keep his hands off me. I've never seen him
act like that before.
March 28, 1976
in my room,
listening to one of my favorite albums, "Aqualung" by Jethro Tull.
Steve called about half an hour ago, didn't have much to say ... told
me about his evening last night ... I guess he went out and boozed it
up with his buddies. I told him that I went out with Scott, he seemed
to think it was OK. He said that I can go out with other guys "just so
long as they keep their hands off" me.
I have to go
back to school ... what a drag. After this Spring Vacation, what with
all the parties, guys, running, going, doing, SCHOOL is going to seem
colorless and unexciting in comparison. I'll probably spend most of the
week working on my research paper for History, thinking about Steve,
and helping my body readjust to getting up at 6:30 a.m. !
got a barrelful
of things on my mind.
I think I really love
Steve. In fact, I don't think I've ever stopped loving him. I'm
determined that this time is going to be different. This time it's
going to work, I'm sure of it.
Feeling very guilty
about Scott. He likes me a lot, and I know I've been
shamelessly leading him on. He hasn't an inkling how intense my
feelings for Steve are. He assumes that Steve and I are "only friends."
I've been too scared to tell him the truth because the last thing in
world I want to do is hurt Scott's feelings. Until I find the words
& summon the courage, I'll probably go right on playing this
Confused about Pat.
He calls me every once in a while, and I run into him at an occasional
party, but he gives absolutely NO indication of his feelings. I mean,
does he like me or what? If he doesn't, why is he still calling? Why
did he come over to my house looking for me on Wednesday night?
Men are so
Monday evening 7:30 p.m.
March 28, 1976
called about half an
hour ago and shocked all hell out of me by asking me to skip school
tomorrow and drive downtown with him. I was so stunned, I barely knew
what to say. I just sat there with the receiver in my hand, trying to
recover long enough to say OK. And now I'm still so damned excited
about the whole thing, I feel positively hyper. I can't seem to calm
still hasn't called,
and I'm beginning to fear that maybe he's backing out without
As I recall, we
spent the day
to some athletic store downtown and looking at basketball
shoes (??), then sitting at his house watching TV for a
couple of hours, before he finally drove me home and dropped me
off. It was weird and uncomfortable
-- we had a hard time making conversation when neither one of
us was drinking -- and it sort of opened my eyes to
the fact that we weren't at all compatible.
April 1, 1976
days later. The
majority of this past week has been spent helping Joada and her family
pack and move ... going out with Scott ... skipping school ...
thinking about Steve ...
night Joada and I
threw a big party in her old house. All the furniture was gone,
but Wendall let us borrow his stereo and Scott lent us some
albums, I brought some old floor cushions, and there was enough beer
(we bought a keg) and pot and poker-playing to keep everybody happy. A
lot of people showed up, mostly guys, and Joada and I had a good time
playing co- hostesses. Felt happy and bubbly and talkative. It was a
neat party, but it ended rather abruptly when Joada's mom walked in and
discovered what was going on.
midnight I went
over to Wendall's so I could see Steve. I was too high, ended up
crashing on Wendall's couch for the night.
think I've decided:
I've narrowed it down to Steve and Scott. Pat is a nice guy, and so
damned good-looking he takes my breath away, but we just don't seem to
"click." I feel too awkward and uncomfortable around him - I can never
seem to totally relax and be myself. In contrast, I have fun with
Scott, and I do love Steve.
are so many
different sides to Steve that it's impossible to predict what he may
say or do next. One minute I love him so much it hurts, and the next
instant he'll say something so infuriating that I almost hate him. He's
so unpredictable, completely independent, and very much his own person.
I guess you could say that no one tells him what to do - and if you
bother trying to manipulate him even a fraction of an inch, you'll wind
up sorry you even thought about it. He says what he thinks, does what
he damn well pleases, and hell with anyone else.
showed up last night
at our party with a couple of his scroungy friends, and he looked just
plain terrible. His hair (which is too long anyway) was dirty and
stringy and hanging in his face, he was wearing a battered old corduroy
jacket that I hate, and his pants - the same white pants he's been
wearing for a week - looked like they'd been through the Battle of
Bunker Hill. I saw him walk through the door, looking like a complete
bum ... but for some funny reason I couldn't care less what he looked
like. He gave me that funny impish grin, and all I could think was "I
LOVE that funny-looking guy standing over there!"
went over and gave him
a beer, but I didn't cling to him. I went around and talked to a lot of
different people, making an effort to open up and be sociable, rather
than hanging on his arm and making him feel chained.
graphic movie, "Helter Skelter" - the true account of the Tate-LaBianca
murders and the Charles Manson family. It leaves me feeling sick and
wrung out, thinking that people like that really exist, that Charles
Manson is still alive in some prison somewhere. After watching even ten
minutes of this movie I think the whole sick, warped Manson "family"
should be gassed.
normalcy.) Steve called about half an hour ago. He's partying down at
Chuck's house, already very obviously drunk, but I'm glad he at least
called. Lately he's been calling quite regularly ... unusual for him.
Tonight he jokingly said, "Yeah, I thought I'd call and check in,
Mother," to which I vehemently replied, "Steve, you don't have to do
that! You don't have to ‘check in' with me every night!"
WANT to!" he said, so
I didn't pursue the matter. I was flattered, I have to admit. Steve
doesn't often pay as much attention to me as I would like, but his
frequent phone calls lately are an indication that he's beginning to
think about the way I feel.
really is a lot
self-centered, but when you stop and think about it, who isn't? His
needs and desires are more important to him than anything else. I think
that only lately has he been able to refocus his perspective enough to
see my part in the relationship, to see that I have needs and desires
too. He may not think mine are as important as his are, but at least he
sees that I have them. And that's a start!
guess that Steve and I
have a pretty unorthodox relationship, and that it must look strange to
anyone on the outside looking in. We love each other, and yet we only
see each other occasionally ... we both date other people ... sometimes
we actually avoid each other in public. From appearances you would
think we were nothing more than casual acquaintances. How can I explain
why? I can't. All I know is that I love that funny looking,
infuriatingly self-centered, egotistical bum. I've got him in my blood,
in my system, and I can't get him out. It's like a disease.
April 3, 1976
afternoon ... so warm, in fact, that I've jumped into an ancient pair
of cutoffs and a T shirt, slathered myself with cocoa butter, dragged
my old lawnchair into the middle of the backyard and have proceeded to
enjoy the first really summery weather of 1976. Birds are singing from
the trees all around me, and everything is pleasant and relaxed. An
indication, perhaps, of the kind of summer 1976 will be ... ?
night wasn't much
fun. Joada and I went to the Golden Earring concert out at the Gold
Creek Dome in Woodinville. We drove out there with Dan Peycke, Peri D.
a few of their friends in Dan's old "beater" station wagon.
Smoked some pot and got a little high, but other than that the entire
evening was a waste. For one thing, it was a 40 minute drive each way.
Then, when we finally managed to find the Dome (after a few wrong turns
here & there), we had to stand in an incredibly long line for
nearly two hours in freezing cold. The show was originally supposed
to start at 8:00, but the doors weren't even opened until ten minutes
to nine. By the time we finally got shoved through the door, I was
frozen to the bone, my back ached from standing so long, I was
ravenously hungry, and I looked terrible. Joada and I bought a hot dog
and Coke from the concession stand and ate it like the starving people
we were - only to find someone had taken our seats while we were
eating. So we had to stand up during the entire concert - all three
bands (Paris and B Bop Deluxe were the other two). To make matters
worse (as if they could be), the bands were boring and repetitious. The
first group (Paris) had one good song, but their costumes, stage
decorations (a skull & burning red candle) and dialogue between
songs were so tacky and tasteless, it ruined what could have been the
only real moment of entertainment. The concert dragged on and on, and
when it FINALLY came to a close - after Golden Earring performed an
incredibly bad ten minute encore - there was still the long ride home
to endure. By the time I finally collapsed into bed at 2:15 a.m., I was
paralyzed with pain; my whole back hurt from standing up all night.
slept in this morning
until noon, after repeated dreams of being at a concert where some ugly
guy was trying to pick me up. ?
called me this
morning, and we're going to try and find something to do tonight. I
always have more fun when her and me go somewhere together - parties or
cruising with Scott or going over to Corey's apartment. Even that
crummy concert last night would have been a helluva lot worse if she
wasn't there to help me complain and grumble. I guess she's just about
the closest friend I've had in a long time. It feels good to have
someone I can talk to and confide in and be honest with. Rhonda has
been so preoccupied with Debbie all year that I always feel like the
third wheel around the two of them. Karen and I are still good friends,
but our interests are so different that we don't have the time to be as
close as we used to be. Lori is nice to be around once in a while, but
a little bit of Lori goes a long way. If you let her, she'll drive you
crazy with her incessant chatter and nervous energy. So that leaves me
and Joada, and even though I sometimes think God forgot to give her a
working brain, she's fun to be around. Since we became friends, my life
simply hasn't been the same!
is nine weeks
away. Can you believe it? (Who am I going to walk
into the ceremony with???) I'm beginning to realize that
maybe life doesn't end the moment you leave your alma mater behind.
to go in &
do the housework. Talk to ya later.
April 4, 1976
down-in-the-dumps. Last night proved to be another disappointment, and
now I feel let-down and lonely. Damn it, why do I have to be so hung up
on Steve?? It seems that I spend over half my life in depression, and
he is almost always the reason. Hell, I don't even know why I love that
rotten creep ... he isn't worth it. Why can't I just get him out of my
life, once and for all?
now I'm sitting
here in my little bedroom, but it's another sunny, summer- like day so
I think I'll brush my hair, change my shirt and take you outside,
Ledger. I have to talk to you.
few minutes later:
I am, sitting in my
old familiar lawnchair facing the sun ... it's a little cooler today,
and a breeze is teasing my hair and the grass and the tree branches.
me tell you about
to do was see Steve. What I planned
to do was go out with Scott. In the end, I did neither. Maybe that's
why the evening turned out so disappointing. Instead, I went to Dave
Jensen's party with Wendall and Joada. It was a pleasant little party,
too many people, lots of beer and pot and good music ... but I couldn't
relax and enjoy myself because all I could think about was Steve,
wondering where he's been (his mom says he hasn't been home in two
days) and why he hasn't called. I got pretty high, sat and talked to my
old pal Bill, listened to music.
9:30 or so, Bill
and his friends (Corey and Jim) decided to go drive around and check
out a couple of other parties. Bill asked me if I wanted to come along,
and for lack of anything better to do, I grabbed my purse and said
"Sure." We all piled into Corey's little while Volkswagen and cruised
around for an hour. There was another party at Otterson's on 14th
Avenue, so we stayed there for a little while before going back to
Jensen's. By midnight I wasn't high anymore, I was depressed, I had the
beginnings of a raging headache, I was starving to death, and I felt
like the third wheel with Joada & Wendall. So I decided to go
home. Corey and his friends drove me home, and on the way to my house
Bill made a pass at me. He grabbed my hand and tried to kiss me, but I
turned away without a word, shaking my head. I just couldn't let him
kiss me, because of Steve. Bill and Steve are friends, and if I even
let Bill TOUCH me, it would get back to Steve in a flash. Besides, I
didn't even want
Bill to touch me. I'm so damned hung up on Steve, I can't stand the
thought of another guy laying his hands on me.
for Scott. With
Scott, it's another story. I like going out with him for the simple
reason that he's fun to be with. He's so terribly sweet and considerate
and thoughtful, but he doesn't drip or cling like some guys do. Plus,
he never "tries" anything that I can't handle: he's every inch a
gentleman. I don't love him, the way I love Steve, but I like him a lot
and I just feel good when I'm around him.
April 7, 1976
few days later.
Feeling depressed and quiet. Nursing a terrible headache. I'm not even
hungry, which should be an indication of how low I really am! I'm not
even sure why I feel so bad. Maybe my monthly cycle is at a low point.
what am I
supposed to do? I love Steve so much that it's killing me. I can hardly
an asshole, Ledger,
that's all he is, plain and simple, and I hate him.
April 8, 1976
Steve. I wish I
never would have met him. For the past ten months all he's done is
bring pain and heartache into my life. It's getting to the point where
I just can't take it anymore.
night at Wendall's
house he was an absolute asshole - probably in the worst mood I've ever
seen him in, and just itching to pick a fight. He not only completely
ignored me - staying for only twenty minutes before abruptly putting on
his coat and walking out without a word - he was deliberately trying to
antagonize everyone in the room by playing the stereo while we were
trying to watch "Baretta" on TV. He started calling Wendall a lot of
names and making crude jokes, and - this is the killer - he played two
songs on the stereo that were deliberate messages to me, meant to hurt
me ("I Will Not Apologize" and "Stay With Me" - the last song starts
out, "In the morning, please
don't say you love me / 'Cuz I'll only kick you out of the
door.") It was like a knife aimed at the center of my heart.
in God's name do I
hang onto him??? Jesus Christ Almighty, am I SICK IN THE HEAD????
April 9, 1976
guess I've managed to
get over my short bout of depression. Feeling relaxed and semi-happy,
and I've got a few things to write to you about.
night was pretty
fun. Scott and I decided to go out "party-hunting," and for once I felt
relaxed enough around him to be myself. We had a good time together -
stopped in at Steve Peterson's for a little while to help him and a
few friends finish off a keg they'd bought that afternoon (is there
anything worse than warm, flat beer??) - and then Scott, me and Blake
Early went driving around. We stopped at Albertsons and had some guy
us a half case of Budweiser, and then we drove around searching for
Debbie Smith's house, looking for parties. We were all three kinda
and really talkative, and it was funny.
we couldn't find
anything else to do, the three of us came over to my house. (Dad wasn't
home - he took Dick to a soccer game at the new domed stadium. That would be the
Listened to the stereo, drank beer, talked. Blake finally left for
home, Scott and I sat there and looked through my old photo albums. Dad
got home around 10:30, and so Scott and I drove up to the airport. We
stayed there and "talked" until 2:30 in the morning.
asked me to go to
Prom. Can you believe it??? I'm so glad, and naturally I said "Yes." I
was so afraid I'd be sitting home alone on May 1st, crying and missing
my Senior Prom. Now I've got to scrounge up the money for a new dress,
shoes, and whatever else I'll need.
something incredibly sweet while we were parked up at the airport. He
said, "Um, would you mind if I told you that I love you?" I couldn't
believe my ears. It was so unexpected and sweet. I didn't say anything
in reply. I couldn't. I don't want to lie to Scott any more than I
already have. I like him a lot, but I don't love him yet.
Steve. He called
me last night, just to see what I was doing, and as always his phone
call left me feeling both frustrated and exhilarated. He said he'd call
what a fix ...
Scott and I were planning to go to Dave Jensen's party tonight, but
called me a little while ago and said that Steve is planning to go to
the same party. What am I going to do? If I show up with Scott, Steve
will start making trouble - I know it - but if I hang around Steve at
the party or leave with him, that would hurt Scott. Crap. How do I get
myself into these things?!
ended up going out with Scott, and we didn't go anywhere near Dave's.
So there was no conflict with Steve. Had a good time.
April 13, 1976
was really in a
terrible mood yesterday. He waited for me after 3rd period Choir, as
usual, and as he wordlessly walked me to my locker I noticed he was
wearing the tight-lipped, 'wounded-pigeon' expression that means
something is bothering him. "Is anything wrong?" I asked him gently. He
shook his head and continued walking silently next to me, never tearing
his eyes from the pavement.
you sure?" I
persisted. We've only been going out for a month, but I know him well
enough to detect his moods. Something was definitely wrong.
we neared the 100
building, he stammered, "Well ... " He has the agonizingly
problem of never being able to explain himself clearly. When he's
nervous or excited or mad, it takes him ten times longer to say what's
on his mind than the average person. He stammers and stutters and falls
all over his words, and by the time he finally says whatever he's
trying to say, his train of thought is broken and he can't remember why
he needed to say it in the first place. "Well," he tried
again, while I waited patiently, "it's really nothing."
knew it was something
and I continued to prod. "You're sure?" I looked at him - he was still
looking vacantly at the ground, shifting uncomfortably.
...," he tried for
the third time. "I - I - I'll talk to you about it ... later." And with
that he simply walked away.
in the afternoon
he called. In an unusually quiet mood, even for him, I had the burden
of making conversation. We "talked" for half an hour - about his job,
my brother, school, Choir, Mr. Purvis, Joada and Wendall, etc. - but
throughout the conversation I still sensed that something was bugging
him. I finally brought the subject up, and when he again seemed
unwilling to discuss it, I insisted.
didn't want to tell
you about it over the phone," he began - "I'd rather tell you in
person, but I might as well tell you now." He paused, cleared his
throat. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, clutching the receiver
tightly, waiting for the worst. Shakily, he continued. "You know that I
can't talk very well. This will probably take me a long time to say,
you know me. But this morning in English, I was talking to a very
reliable person, and um, this person told me a few things."
kinds of terrible
things began circulating in my mind. Who had he been talking to? What
had he heard?
this person told me
that - uh - that, you, you're just, uh ..." He stopped, painfully.
TELL me, Scott!" I
... this person told
me that you're just trying to screw me over ... that on nights when you
go out with me, after I bring you home, you go out with Steve."
I was silent, wordless. "And she said that you're just, um,
using me for rides to parties and stuff, that you still like Steve and
that you're just going out with me to get him jealous."
that time I was no
longer wordless. Enraged, I screamed "WHO TOLD YOU THIS??"
it easy, let me
finish," he said. "I didn't believe her, but, well, she seemed to know
what she was talking about, because she talks to Steve a lot."
IS IT??" I
it really matter?"
he argued. "I mean, what good ... "
was crying, angry to
the very bone, tired of "people" talking about me. "I WANT TO KNOW WHO
IT IS," I said, "AND I WANT TO KNOW RIGHT NOW!"
sounding a little abashed by my outburst, "It was, um, Carolyn D."
argument lasted for
an hour, until I became too hysterical to talk. I said, "Scott, I just
can't talk to you now. I'll call you back later when I've had a chance
to calm down." And with that, I hung up.
reason I got so
the fact that everything Carolyn said was true?) was because I'm
sick and tired of people talking about
me. My reputation has been shot to hell and my relationships with a lot
of people jeopardized because of people "talking," and it's getting to
the point where I can't take it anymore. Scott said that Carolyn was
only trying to be "helpful." Hell, I need that kind of "help" like I
need a hole in the head.
last night Scott
and I went driving around, to give ourselves a chance to talk things
out. We drove around Three Tree Point and through Burien, finally
parking for a while at Sunset Park. During that time, Scott repeated
what he's been saying all along: "Terri, I know I've said this before,
but I really like you a lot and I want to go with you for as long as
you want to go with me." I was dying inside when he said that, because
I do like him a lot and I've had fun dating him this past month
... but the whole thing is such a screwed-up mess. I haven't
even talked to Steve since Friday night, and he was drunk when he
called me, so I haven't got the faintest idea how he feels about me.
Joada and Wendall say that he likes me and wants to take me out, but
that he "doesn't want to be tied down." Steve himself has said the very
April 17, 1976
days later ... I
haven't written because I couldn't FIND you, Ledger!!! My room is
a total mess, I didn't see you sitting in the rocking chair under a
pile of clothes and books.
still in turmoil
over Scott and Steve, but this past week a few other things have
happened, adding to my confusion. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if men
are even worth it.
called me several
times during the week, and instead of the usual frustrating
conversations we always have, he couldn't have been nicer. He told me
that he cares about me a lot, and that he does want to marry me in a
"few years." He said that he's getting a house this summer, and he
practically invited me to move in with him.
the meantime, I went
out with Scott every night this week - just to drive around one night,
to the Duwamish Drive-In to see "Jaws" another night, down to
Southcenter, to Value Village to prowl through the stacks of old books
and records. We've been having fun together.
night Scott, Joada
and I went to Sandy & Lori's party (they just moved into a
house down at Alki Point). The list of people at that party read like
the Glacier High School social register ... practically the entire
senior class was there. I didn't feel very good, though, and around
midnight I asked Scott to drive me home. We sat in his car in front of
my house for about half an hour, talking about Prom and stuff.
then Joada pulled
up in front of my house with Corey and Jim, and she asked me to go to
Bruce Halvorsen's party with her. I didn't really want to. For one
felt terrible. For another, I didn't really want to run into Steve, who
I knew would be there. And on top of everything else I knew it would be
rude to just leave Scott like that. But I went anyway, and I shouldn't
have bothered. Steve was there, alright, and he was a complete
& total asshole. He didn't say one word to me, and he left ten
minutes after I showed up. I felt like an idiot. Corey was talking to
me about this whole crazy mess while he was driving me home. He said
that he talked to Steve for a long time yesterday, and that Steve says
that he really cares about me a lot, more than any other girl, but he
doesn't want to get tied down. (Essentially the same thing Wendall told
me.) Then Corey said, "I know how you feel ... like a worm on the end
of the hook, unable to get free."
I could say in
reply, softly, was ‘Yes ... but sometimes the worm learns to
love the hook." (Rolling my
he was driving away
from my house, Corey leaned out the window and said, "You should give
some consideration to being free, Terri."
it's about 1:00 on a
Saturday morning, and I haven't done one bit of housework yet. Gotta
run - lots to do.
IT!! Why can't I
calm down?? Steve just called me, and he isn't one bit mad about last
night - in fact, he sounds like he's in a really good mood. He has to
go eat lunch - I could hear his mom yammering in the background - but
he said he'd call me right back.
Ledger, I love him so
much. I really do.
the first time in
about two months, I find myself sitting home alone on a Saturday night
... watching "Doc" on TV, sipping a cola on ice, relaxing. Steve called
back after he'd eaten lunch, and we talked for over an hour. I don't
understand it. We were not only civil to each other, we were actually
friendly, open and loving. We talked about everything, including Corey
and his big mouth, Scott, parties, girls, and - get this - the kids
we're going to have "someday." (We couldn't seem to agree. He said he
wants three, but I said I only want two, a boy and a girl.)
Steve is going
out with Wendall, Kevin Jennings and Rod Nuss, and (according to Joada)
going to "get really wasted and then go beat the shit out of Corey."
Sounds like fun, ha ha. So tonight I'm sitting home for a change, and
although I'm a little bit lonely - I have to admit it!! - I don't
really mind. Tomorrow is Easter, and Steve called me tonight to invite
me over tomorrow for Easter dinner with his family. Naturally I
accepted - it made me feel so good when he asked me. I know that Steve
goes out with other girls - usually the loose girls he picks up at
parties - but I'm the one he invites to dinner with his family. I'm the
one he calls when he's at a party and starts feeling lonely. I'm the
one whose picture he carries in his wallet. Sometimes, when he lets his
guard down, I'm able to believe that I'm the one girl who could tame
the untamable Mr. P..
actually kind of
strange that girls (especially me) should find him so attractive. I
don't mean that he's not attractive - he is, in a kind of offbeat way -
but he just doesn't seem like the type who should have to fight off the
girls. He's no Robert Redford. What is it about him, anyway? Why do I
love him? And why do so many other girls find him so irresistible ... ?
just called me
(the din & roar of Brad Hall's party in the background) and he
kept saying, "I wish I would've brought you with me, goddammit!" Then
he said he'd call me again later. Wow. What devotion.
April 18, 1976
Sunday ... a warm
afternoon, but the sky is filled with menacingly dark clouds. Feels as
though it's going to rain any minute. Sitting here in my room,
listening to the radio, waiting for Steve to call me back, sipping a
beer. (He's playing pool with his brothers right now.) I'm kind of
excited about going to his apartment for dinner tonight. I'm going to
try my best to make a good impression on his mom and the rest of his
family. I want them to like me, I really do - because I wouldn't be the
least bit surprised if I become a part of that family some day! Usually
I dread eating dinner with my boyfriend's family. It's kind of like the
Grand Inspection, and I'm always paranoid that I won't measure up, that
I'll drop my fork on the floor or knock over my milk or spill something
on my shirt. Today, though, I feel surprisingly relaxed about the whole
thing. I guess that's because it's not going to be any big formal
occasion ... according to Steve, just a relaxed, casual dinner with the
Ledger, I love him so
darned much that sometimes it just makes me ache.
Tonight with his family was a lot of fun. I really had a good time, and
I felt such a sense of belonging, being with them all like that. It's
impossible to describe the feeling, but all I can say is that with my
whole heart I love him and want to become part of that crazy,
unconventional family. I love Steve, I love him, and I want to marry
him and be his wife and have his children and love him for always.
tell you more about
it later, but now I've got to go to bed.
April 20, 1976
got another damned
Stage Band concert tonight - this time at Mt. Rainier High School - and
two hours to get myself ready. "Getting ready" will involve taking a
much-needed shower, setting my hair, refreshing my makeup, and eating
my steak and baked potato dinner. But before I begin the overhauling
process, a quick word in my beloved Ledger.
happened yesterday. Hell, "awful" isn't even the right word.
Catastrophic is closer. I'll put it simply, because to be quite honest
I don't even want to talk about it. That's how bad it is. Steve and his
friends got into a fight yesterday with some guy ... and they beat him
up bad enough to put him in the hospital with a concussion, a broken
nose and a multiple internal injuries. Now Steve is facing charges of
kidnapping and aggravated assault, while the guy they mashed is laying
in a hospital hovering near death. If that guy dies ... my God, they'll
lock Steve up for years and years. I just don't know what to say, what
to do. I can't even think straight. I'll comment on it all later.
April 21, 1976
and I were out
last night until nearly midnight. He drove me to my Stage Band concert,
and then afterwards we went to Herfy's for a rootbeer and then parked
in front of my house for a couple of hours. This morning I was too
tired to get up for school so I purposely overslept and didn't crawl
out of bed until 10:00. Dad came home early a little while ago, and I
gave him a phony excuse about "not feeling well." So now I'm more or
less stuck here at home. Oh well ... in a way I enjoy spending quiet,
purposeless days in my bedroom ... but even more I feel guilty about
staying home. I'm wasting precious remaining days of high school.
glad I went out with
Scott last night. He helped relieve a little of my worry and
depression. I told Scott about the fight Steve got into, and he could
see how deeply upset I was. He really made an effort to be
understanding and reassuring.
concert was awful.
We played three numbers - "Jazzman," "Turquoise" and "Every Little Beat
Helps" - and we made complete fools out of ourselves in front of all
those other instrumental and vocal groups from around the district. Not
only was our playing sloppy and unprofessional, we also suffered some
major mishaps (like my piano music disappearing).
Scott and I were
sitting in his car in front of my house, listening to his tape deck and
talking and "stuff," things got a little carried away - if you know
what I mean. Nothing X-rated or anything like that, but I just have
this feeling Scott was reading more into it than I meant for him to. He
put his arms around me very tight, and shivering a little he whispered
into my ear, "You'll probably think that this sounds immature or
childish ... but I love you, Terri." That's the second time he's told
me loves me. What can I say to him? How can I make him understand that
I care for him very, very much ... but that my heart belongs to someone
else? How can I explain to him the depth and intensity of my feelings
for Steve, when for the past month I've been telling Scott that Steve
and I are "just friends"? How can I suddenly do an about-face and tell
him that Steve and I are in love?
stupid part is that
it would be so easy to explain these things to Scott, if it weren't for
one thing ... I'm not sure I want
to explain it to him! I'm afraid I enjoy Scott's company - his shyness
and his hidden humor and his sensitivity - too much to give it up yet.
I love Steve, yes. I am absolutely certain of that. But I see him so
seldom, feel his love so rarely, that it's very reassuring to have
Scott in love with me too. His attention and devotion are proof that
I'm still "desirable." Sometimes Steve's callous indifference can tear
down all traces of self- esteem: Scott's attention restores my
it's all a big ego
trip for conceited, self-centered Terri Vert. Maybe I need a few
in growing up. But in the meantime I've got Scott on a string,
keeping him "handy" for things like the Who concert and Prom and
graduation, rides to parties, things to do on weekend nights when Steve
doesn't feel like taking me out. I
was not a nice person when I was a teenager. OK?
must be psychic.
For some reason he knew I'd be home from school today, and he called
me! We talked for an hour. He didn't mention anything about that guy in
the hospital, so apparently it wasn't as serious as I'd worked myself
into believing. We talked about: Steve's three abscessed teeth, and his
subsequent pain and difficulty eating ... the medication he's been
taking, which knocks him out completely ... the fact that sometimes I'm
dumb but definitely not stupid ... Pink Floyd, Joe Walsh, Ted Nugent,
Foghat ... my Dad and his attitude towards Steve ... me getting a
summer job and supporting the two of us (semi-jokingly) ... Pat M., and
how much we both hate him ... the first night we met at Steve
Peterson's party, and whether it was him or me that made the first
move. I didn't mention Scott at all. I'm still confused about last
night, and I didn't want to complicate things by playing on Steve's
I've got to wash my
hair and become "presentable," just in case something comes up tonight.
You never know.
Ledger, I didn't
realize that there were so few pages left in this notebook ... just
about time to get down to Albertsons and buy a new one. There are so
many important things coming up in my immediate future - Prom and
graduation, to name two - and it would be a shame to let them go
is Dad's night
off, and I'm sitting here in the living room in his comfortable
recliner, watching the terribly un-funny "Tony Orlando and Dawn Show,"
fighting the beginnings of an awful cold. (Tony Orlando looks so much
like Pat. Same dark hair, sexy eyes, dark skin, mustache and smile. I
can hardly stand to watch him.)
5:00. He went to the dentist and had his teeth fixed, but the
medication he has to take makes him extra irritable and barely
coherent. He started yelling at me about insipid things, calling me
names and administering verbal whiplashings. Luckily I had the sense to
realize it was the medicine talking, not Steve, and I stayed cool and
calm throughout the entire tirade. I carefully avoided touchy subjects
and kept him as pacified as possible. When he called back an hour later
to apologize, I said it was no big deal and chalked it up as another
lesson in How To Handle Steve P.
Orlando is singing
"Let The Good Times Roll" now, dancing with Telma and Joyce, taking off
his coat, acting sexy ... women in the audience are going nuts,
oblivious to his off-key singing. Well, at least he's got looks going
took some Nyquil at
9:00 for my cold, and now it's made me pleasantly drowsy and
heavy-lidded. You'll have to excuse me ... my pillow is calling.
April 22, 1976
Carmagnani's 1st period Bible Lit class ... I brought you to school
today, Ledger, in the hopes that perhaps I can use up the rest of your
pages and buy a new notebook.
didn't pick me up
for school this morning - I don't know why - so I had to walk to
school. Cool, cloudy morning, light sprinkling of misty rain - I walked
briskly and got to school in 15 minutes, hot, sweaty and tired. Escaped
immediately into the girl's bathroom to repair my soggy makeup and
hair, but I'm afraid it's no use. I'm going to feel dirty and poorly
groomed all day. That's why I hate walking to school. My cold is
getting worse and worse, and my head feels stuffy and heavy and hot.
main things on my
mind right now are getting down to Southcenter and picking out my Prom
dress ... writing my editorial for the New Voices feature in the P.I.
... the conflict between Steve and Scott ... wondering why Rhonda has
been so cool and distant lately ("I
won't be able to pick you up tomorrow")
... among other things. Sniffle. I wonder what kind of day this will
April 23, 1976
cold took a turn for
the worse during the night, and when I woke up this morning I couldn't
even breathe, so I stayed home today. I haven't been this sick in a
long time. I feel terrible.
night Scott took me
down to Southcenter so I could shop around for a Prom dress. I have $80
to spend. I couldn't find anything, though, and I'm starting to get
worried. Prom is in one week and I still don't have a dress. Anyway, I
window-shopped at Southcenter for an hour, then Scott and I went to
Herfy's for our usual rootbeer. Then we parked in front of my house for
nearly three hours. I didn't climb into my bed until the ungodly hour
of 1 a.m.
I heard, via the
grapevine, that Pat is having a party at his house. I'm not sure if
I'll go, since I can no longer stand the sight of him, but I hope I do
to Joada on the
phone a little while ago. Ever since she started going to Highline,
we've really drifted apart. She's still going with Wendall, but
apparently the male population at Highline High School has "discovered"
her and all kinds of guys have been asking her out. She told me that
both of the Swaab twins asked her out for tonight, and that one of them
invited her to Highline's Prom tomorrow night. Looks like she's found
asked me, "How's
Steve doing?" and when I replied that he's been calling me more often
than ever lately, she said "Yah, Wendall says that Steve's been talking
about you a lot more lately, and it sounds like he really cares for
you." Now that's the kind of stuff I like to hear!
April 24, 1976
God ... surprised I
can even write. Talk about hangovers ... this morning I feel like
somebody is pounding on my head with a lead pipe. I got way too drunk
last night, didn't get home until 6:00 this morning, and I feel
horrible. Shit, I wouldn't have gotten that drunk if Scott hadn't
poured that stupid Jack Daniels into my glass. I can't handle 90 proof.
But you really can't blame anyone but yourself when you tie one on.
Boy, did I ever. We went to two parties - Lori Nelson's, which was
small and quiet and mellow, and then (I admit it) Pat M's gigantic,
frantic one. That was a mistake. I never should have set one foot
inside his door.
sick to my
stomach, my nose is running, my head is pounding, I feel miserable. I
guess this is the price you pay for having "fun."
April 25, 1976
my awful hangover. For a while there I didn't think I was going to live
through it. This weekend, on the whole, was pretty fun ... the two
parties with Scott on Friday night ... spent all day Saturday
recuperating and attempting to get my stomach & brain back into
working order ... Saturday night I went to the drive-in with Scott and
saw two really good movies, "Family Plot" (Karen Black, William Devane)
and "Murder on the Orient Express." Then today Joada and I spent most
of the day shopping at Southcenter, where - I don't believe it - I
FINALLY found the most perfect dress for Prom. It's black with diagonal
white stripes, a halter dress with matching sleeveless bolero, and the
incredible part is that it's a size 5 and fits, AND it only cost
$38.00. I also got some matching black sandals, some silver jewelry
that really compliments the outfit, and some new makeup (including
false eyelashes). Now all I need is the little black evening bag that
Joada's mom is loaning me, and I'll be all set for my Senior Prom on
Saturday night. I can't believe that my day has finally come, but it
my armchair, listening to quietly peaceful Jesus music through the
headphones, munching Cheetos. Scott called at 8:00 and we talked for an
hour, and then Steve called at 9:00 and I talked to him
for an hour. Feeling pleasant and peaceful and tranquil, wishing that
this quietness and peacefulness could go on and on. I wish that time
would just stand still: that I could always be living today, April 24,
1976 at 10:35 p.m., eighteen years old, looking forward to my Senior
Prom, graduation a month away, in love with two guys who are in love
with me, with so very much still looming ahead in the hazy future ...
and so very much to be living for ...
Ledger, I hate to
say goodbye to you. So many things have happened in my life since
December 13th, and you've been such a friend and comfort. I don't know
how much I've changed in the past five months, but I know for certain
that writing in you has helped me develop more of a sense of self-
worth and individuality. You've helped me see that I am somebody, and
that I have a right to sat and do what I think, without being so afraid
of what "other people" will say. I've been honest with you, and that's
the first step in having honest relationships with others.
thank you for being
April 24, 1976
Favorite Songs During This Ledger:
Night - The Bay City Rollers
- Rock and Roll
All Night - Kiss
- I'm Still Gonna
Need You - The Osmonds
- I Want To Do
Something Freaky To You - Leon Hayward
- I'm On Fire -
- Slow Ride -
- Love Hurts -
- Only Sixteen -
to throw a rock?