April 1976 - August
"One week from now
I'm going to be so burned out from all the parties & drinking &
emotion, I'll probably never
recover. They'll have to put me in bed and close my eyes and let me
sleep forever ..."
April 26, 1976
I don't like small ledgers like this one (70 pages) ... the way I
frantically scribble, I wear one out in a matter of weeks ... but this
afternoon I was in a hurry and didn't have time to shop around. No time
to be picky, so I grabbed you, Ledger. But who knows? We may become
good friends anyway. I'll overlook your diminutive size if you'll
overlook my crazy handwriting - deal??
a little past 10 and I really should try to get some sleep, but my poor
confused little body can't seem to adjust to the new daylight savings
time (started yesterday). Still very wide awake. Sitting here in bed,
listening to the radio, wondering why Steve didn't call tonite. Not
only didn't he call, as a matter of fact, but the phone didn't ring
ONCE all evening. That's hard to believe!!
was a frustrating day. Scott came and gave me a ride in the morning,
and during the 15 or 20 minutes before school started, we sat in his
Camaro out in the back parking lot, talking to his friends and smoking
a little pot. We had a Prom assembly during 2nd period ... listened to
Cheryl L. sing "Precious & Few" in her flat, nasal voice, and then
the nominees for Prom royalty were introduced. Choir was boring, since
I wasn't called on to play the piano at all & spent the entire
period listening to the choir rehearse "All My Trials," "Ehre Sei Dir
Christe" and "Nobody's Perfect." Scott took me to A & W for lunch,
which was an unexpected surprise. During 4th period Journalism, Mr.
Carmagnani completely tore my editorial for the New Voices feature
apart ... figuratively speaking, that is. He complained that it was too
long, too wordy, too bogged down with facts and figures, not enough
editorializing. I was really hurt, but after recovering from the blow
to my pride, I realized he was absolutely right. That first attempt was
awful. It was stuffy and dull and poorly written
... so I spent the remainder of the day rewriting the thing, taking
care to keep it simple and clean. And Mr. C loved it. "Very good!" he
exclaimed, when he read my second attempt.
school Scott and I drove down to Seahurst Park - parked in the upper
level parking lot, sat in his car talking for a couple of hours. Some
friend of his bought us a six-pack of beer, but I still hadn't
completely recovered from last Friday night and didn't feel much like
drinking. Scott sucked down three in a row, then got very talkative. We
talked about his last girlfriend, Carolyn D. Then he kissed me when he
was sure she was watching, standing with a bunch of her friends on the
other side of the parking lot. Ha ha.
Growing more confused every minute. How much do I like Scott? Do
I still love Steve? Am I wrong to be hanging onto them both? And
if I am, how will I ever choose between the two of them?
April 27, 1976
for my favorite TV show to begin, "Monty Python's Flying Circus" on
Channel 9. Certainly the most insane comedy show ever produced. I need
to relax and unwind with a good television program ... a minor row with
Dad half an hour ago has left me tense and irritable. (As usual, our
argument began with him criticizing my phone calls. Scott called and we
talked for almost an hour, and naturally Dad had to be snide &
criticize me for it. God, I hate that.)
day, no major problems. Scott drove me to school again, took me out to
lunch, picked me up after school and we went down to Seahurst Park for
an hour. And then he called me tonight. I'm beginning to think that
this is really something serious, at least to him. I haven't had a
chance to really think over the situation, so for the present I'll just
say that I like him a lot, he's fun to be with and I enjoy going out
with him. I don't think I can honestly say that I love him right
now ... I'm still too emotionally involved with Steve to entangle
myself further. Maybe I could learn to love Scott, someday. But not
now. Not until I've dealt with my feelings for Steve.
May 3rd, 1976
days later. Scott and I went to a concert choir rehearsal at the school
this evening from 6:30 to 8:30 - we have a concert tomorrow night at
Highline High School. After rehearsal (we worked on "Ehre Sei Dir
Christe," "All My Trials," "Nobody's Perfect" and "Ye Followers of the
Lamb"), me, Scott, Jerry and Wayne got some weed from Paul and went
down to Sunset Park to smoke it. I didn't get home until 12:15, and I
am ZONKED. Probably no school for Terri tomorrow morning.
May 4, 1976
my school attendance has been rotten this quarter! Here I am, staying
An incredible amount of things have happened to me since last week ...
things that have managed to change my attitude about several
important issues, including my feelings for Steve and our so-called
"relationship," as well as the very real relationship I do seem to
be building with Scott. Things are beginning a gradual about-face.
went to Tony E.'s party with Scott last Thursday night. Tony has a
gigantic field on his property, up near the airport, so the party was
outside. We all sat on the cars, drinking beer and smoking weed and
talking. I was suffering from a hangover from the night before, so I
wasn't drinking much, but I was in a good frame of mind and in the mood
to talk to people.
this on May 5, 1976 at midnight)
Steve was there, very obviously drunk, and he asked me to go for a walk
with him so we could "talk." We were gone for nearly an hour, and
during that time Scott got very upset and very hurt and left the party
things happened in my mind that nite at Tony's party. First, I began to
seriously ask myself "Do I really love Steve as much as I think I
do?" That night he told me that he loves me, that he's going to change
his ways and become more attentive and show his love for me more
frequently ... but he was drunk when he said it. I don't think he even knew what he was
saying. And now, for the first time in the almost-year that I've been
in love with him, I'm beginning to doubt. And wonder. And reconsider.
The second thing that happened at Tony's was that I began to look at my
relationship with Scott more closely, and I had to ask myself: Why
shouldn't I love him? He showers me with love and attention and
consideration. He's the most thoughtful, courteous, tender guy I've
dated in months. Why shouldn't I love him? And say "the hell with
Steve," once and for all??
May 6, 1976
Drying my hair, listening to the radio, deciding what to wear to school
this morning ... feeling relatively happy and relaxed. Last night I
went over to Scott's house and helped him cut out magazine ads and tape
them in a "Visual Notebook" for his English class. We sat upstairs in
his bedroom, listening to old Beatles albums, talking, cutting up
magazines until 10:30. He's so damned sweet, I just can't believe it.
Before he took me home, we stopped at A & W and had rootbeer
frostys, and while we were sitting in his car drinking them we talked
about graduation. It's definite now - we are walking into
the graduation ceremony together, and on Class Day too.
Originally he was going to walk with Lori N., until she got pregnant
& dropped out of school. This is a very big load off my mind,
because the girls outnumber the guys in our class by 2 to 1, and I was
starting to think I would have to walk in with another girl. (Sheer
humiliation.) After graduation, a lot of us are going to drive to Sun
Lakes for a few days, maybe ... we were talking about that, too.
I actually like this picture (taken before Prom, in front of
house) more than I do our formal Prom portrait. You can't really tell,
because I've had to blur his face for the website,
but he is giving me this look that says he thinks I'm really,
really special ... and I just sort of look happy and goofy
and healthy and light-hearted.
Which I was, that night, for a change. (No obsessing over the *other*
It was a special evening, and i'll always be glad that we shared this
i hope that he feels the same.
Prom was last weekend, did I tell you? I won't
go into great detail, but it was neat. Scott wore a white tux with
black velvet trim, and I wore my new black & white halter dress,
and we really looked sharp together. We ate dinner at the Space Needle
(mediocre food, ridiculous prices, great view.) Prom was held in the
Snoqualmie Room at the Seattle Center. We got there at 8:30 and danced
until 11:30. It was really very beautiful and special and wonderful,
the way I always hoped my Senior Prom would be.
Prom, Scott took me home so I could change my clothes & repair my
makeup, and then we drove with several friends (including Carolyn Dopps,
Tracy Clairmont, Leonard Morgan, Anna Cutler) to Wenatchee for the Apple Blossom
Festival. We got home late Sunday afternoon, tired, dirty, sunburned,
high and happy.
maybe I'll tell you more about Prom and about Apple Blossom, but right
now I don't feel like expanding ... I've got to put my eyes and face
May 8, 1976
spent practically the whole day outside in a lawnchair, reading
Patricia DiZenzo's "An American Girl," trying to get a tan. I didn't
have any tanning butter or baby oil, and I was getting tired of
spraying myself with the hose every five minutes to keep my skin wet,
so I created some makeshift tanning oil. You'll never guess what I used
- cooking oil! It sounds silly, but I spread it all over my arms and
legs and chest, and it worked. I've got a beautiful rosy burn, so at
least I'll have some color when I go to Tracy's party tonight. Scott
was telling me about it last night - he said that Tracy's having a very
exclusive get-together at his brother's house down at Alki, and that
we're on the guest list. That sounds fine to me, as long as there
aren't a whole lot of people there that I don't like (namely CAROLYN)
... and as long as Steve doesn't show up. I don't think he will. He
doesn't really hang around with Tracy's crowd much anymore.
called me on Thursday night around 10:00, when I was getting ready for
bed. Just as I expected, he jumped all over me and started accusing me
of saying & doing things that aren't true. He knows that I've been
going out with Scott, and up until now he's been saying that it's
"fine," and that he knows I shouldn't have to spend my evenings sitting
home alone ... but now, suddenly, he's all bent out of shape. Now it's
a big deal to him, and he chewed me out thoroughly. "It's OBVIOUS that
you like him a lot," he sneered, and I just wanted to grab him and
shake him and knock some sense into that big, thick, stupid head of
"Damn it, Steve!" I shouted at him, "What exactly do you want me to do?
I love you , but I never see you anymore. You hardly
ever call. I'm not going to spend my time sitting home, waiting for you
to take me out once every two months!"
May 10, 1976
at night. I should be asleep, but for some reason I'm too tense to
relax. So many things on my mind ... I'm not even sure if I can write
about them. I'm having so many hassles with Steve, and on top of that,
Scott and I have been arguing like crazy lately, and I just can't
handle the pressure. I feel like I'm going to crack any minute.
I went to a party with Scott, and naturally Steve was there. I seem to
be running into him everywhere I go lately. As usual, he completely ignored
me - only said a polite "hello" when we were at the keg at the same
time once. Georgia W. was at the party. She and I talked for a long
time about Steve, whom she knows very well, about her boyfriend Bill,
and about life in general. She's an interesting person to talk to, and
it was nice to talk to a girl I could identify with for a change. I
dislike most other girls, and I'm sure the feeling is intensely mutual.
Anyway, Georgia was trying to set me straight about Steve, and she came
right out and told me some of the terrible things he's been saying
about me, behind my back. It was difficult to accept the things she was
saying, but I knew in my heart she was telling me the truth. She had no
reason to lie to me.
is no longer working for me - he's working against me, in every way he
I was upset about it all day at school, and it affected my relationship
with Scott. We were cool, distant and aloof with each other, barely
speaking at lunch. The whole thing was very tense and uncomfortable,
because all I could think about was Steve and what a jerk he is.
school Scott and I had a "show-down." We drove up to the airport, where
he backed me into a corner and asked, in no uncertain terms, what the
hell was the matter with me. I broke down and cried - the strain was
finally too great, I couldn't pretend anymore - and I explained my true
feelings for Steve. I said that I still loved Steve, but that he'd hurt
me once too often and that there was nothing I wanted more than to get
him out of my life for good. I told him the things Steve was saying
about me, the ways he'd hurt me, and as I talked the tears poured down
- dear, sweet, understanding Scott - what could he say? He listened
quietly, and when I was finally though talking and crying he took me
gently into his arms, kissed my forehead and said that he understood.
That was all - just that one compassionate gesture - said more about
his character & inner goodness than all the sweet lies and "I love
yous" in the world. Scott is one guy in ten million.
early this evening Steve called, and I faced my second major "show-
down" of the day. I was expecting a hostile tirade, but Steve was
uncharacteristically calm and reasonable. We talked for half an hour in
an unashamedly open way. We both agreed that things weren't working out
- we're too different, and we're too set in our ways to change for the
other - but we don't, either one of us, want to call it quits
completely. He said that he likes me "more than anyone else, ever" -
and for once I think he was being really sincere - but that he's too
scared of commitment to commit. We decided not to give up, but to take
things slow, slow, slow.
"We like each other a lot," he said, "Better
than anyone else, but we'll still go out with other people."
agreed completely and hung up feeling more relief and weightlessness
than I've felt in weeks. Yes, I still love Steve, in spite of
everything & anything, and I'll do anything to keep him in my life.
I wish - God, how I wish - that I had the strength to hate Steve, and
to get him out of my life once and for all. He's brought me very little
but sorrow and uncertainty, and I'm a fool to hang onto him the way I
do. Am I sick? Is there something wrong with me? What girl in her right
mind would cling to a guy that treats her the way Steve treats me? Is
it, as Kevin and Corey keep insisting, your basic martyr complex? Or is
it something more. Do I love him? Do I hate him? What is going to come
of all this? Am I going to spend the rest of my life chasing a shadow,
something that doesn't really exist ...?
May 11, 1976
Smoke On The Water
midnight but I'm wide awake, not ready to sleep yet. Just got home a
few minutes ago. Dad is in his radio room, drunker than shit, talking
on the radio. I'm sitting in the living room curled up in Dad's
armchair, my just- washed hair wrapped in a towel, listening to the
stereo and sorting out my thoughts at the end of a long day.
night Scott and I went to the Bad Company concert at the Coliseum. Bad
Company is kind of a teenybopper group, so there were a lot of younger
kids running around, but it was an OK concert in spite of that. I had
three 16 oz. bottles of beer right before the concert, and we smoked
some pot with Joe Hall inside the Coliseum, but I didn't get too high ...
I stayed fairly level, enough to enjoy (and best of all REMEMBER) the
concert. Scott and I had fun, because for once we were both in good
moods and not tearing each other down or retreating into silent moods.
I stayed home, but Scott dropped by around 1:00. We went to Burien and
bought tickets for the Paul McCartney concert on June 10, the day after
graduation. Then there was a keg down at the Sunset pits, lots of kids
from Glacier. Tonight me, Scott and Jerry went to the Highline
Bicentennial Festival at Memorial Field, and afterwards Scott and I sat
in his car for an hour, talking & "stuff."
... you can see that my life has certainly been "Scott-filled" lately.
He is, by far, the most attentive guy that I've ever gone out with. He
treats me as though I'm very, very special. He calls me at least once a
day, takes me out to lunch every day, picks me up from school, takes me
out practically every night ... wow. And the thing I love most - he
treats me like a lady. Something Steve doesn't even know the meaning
(Something written here about
Steve, blacked out heavily with felt pen)
only other major worry at this time is graduation, less than a month
away. I dread it, Journal, I really do. High school hasn't been one
continuous picnic, granted, but nevertheless I'm worried sick about
seeing it end ... saying goodbye to a lot of my friends ... seeing
myself grow older. Maybe that's the thing I fear the most: growing
older, losing my looks, not being able to drive around in Camaros and
go to parties and dance and be carefree. Lately that's all I've been
dwelling on, and it has me deeply worried. I'm scared to death of
May 15, 1976
gorgeous, summerlike sunshiny weekend. I've been laying outside soaking
up the rays all day now, and I have another beautiful sunburn to show
May 17, 1976
11 more days of school left ... sob!
is hectic, continually faced with things to do, but lately I've been
feeling depressed and a little blue. Since I've been going out with
Scott these past two months, I've managed to lose track of all my other
friends and interests. It's beginning to get me down. I never talk to
Rhonda anymore; Joada and I have irrevocably drifted apart; even my
church relationships have turned cold. There was a New Vision choir
rehearsal tonight at church, and everyone was so cold and distant
toward me that it really hurt. Even Phil - once my best friend, the
person I loved most in the world - doesn't talk to me anymore. My life,
despite the recent flood of social engagements and things to do, seems
strangely empty. God and I aren't even on speaking terms. In spite of
myself I'm beginning to doubt His existence sometimes. Is that why I
feel so flat and empty and void of feeling lately?
May 20, 1976
haven't heard from Steve in over a week -- and you know, I don't really
care. I feel almost free of him, and in the face of all the heartache
I've suffered because of him during the past year, that's a very, very
think I love Scott. Oh Ledger, I know I do. He's the most wonderful
thing to come into my life in a long, long time, and I don't think I
could get by without him now. He's more than just an emotional crutch,
a way of getting over Steve ... he's sunshine and hope and rainbows and
birthday candles, and someone I love dearly.
May 22, 1976
haven't had a chance to really sit down and have a good write in my
ledger for a long time ... I've been so completely immersed in living.
Last night Scott and I went to Cindy Koch's little party. We stayed until
around 1 a.m. and I managed to get myself roaring drunk, plus we smoked
some excellent Colombian with John and Jerry, so I was pretty fucked
up. Had a good time, though. There was a lot of people at Cindy's, but
not enough to be crowded or uncomfortable.
Scott and I left Cindy's party, we went to his house. His parents are
gone for the weekend again, but his grandmother and his little sister
Kim were home, asleep in bed, so we had to be extra-extra quiet and
sneak me upstairs to his room. We both fell asleep on his bed and
didn't wake up until 6:00 this morning. Scott brought me home when he
was going to work, and I went straight to my room and crashed into bed.
I didn't wake up again until Joada called me this afternoon around
cool day. Dad is outside mowing the lawn, I'm sitting in my room
listening to the Beatles White Album. Dad heard me come in this morning
but I guess he doesn't care because he's been nothing but "sweetness
& friendliness" this afternoon. Scott is working, but I imagine
he'll call as soon as he gets home. We'll have a good laugh when we
remember how high we both got last night.
is slightly more than two weeks away, June 9th. Class Day is sooner
than that - on June 7th - and I've still got to buy myself a white
dress for the assembly and buy a class flower. We get our yearbooks
this Wednesday, too.
May 23, 1976
and I went to the drive-in last night - we saw "Watch Out, We're Mad"
and George Segal in "The Blackbird" - and although they were both
hysterically funny movies, we only saw about 1/2 of each. We spent the
rest of the evening just looking into each others' eyes and whispering.
I do love him, Ledger - it took me two months to finally realize it,
but I do. I don't love Steve anymore. He is out of my system,
irrevocably, and Scott has taken his place. I love him, and the
beautiful thing is that he loves me too. He really does.
I can't understand is why the heck it took me so long to open my eyes.
Scott has been in my life for such a long time (friends since 7th
grade), but I was too blind, too wrapped up in my warped pseudo-love
for Steve. Now Scott and I have each other, and it is beautiful.
May 29, 1976
Won't Get Fooled Again
no motivation. Cloudy, rainy day -- no excuse to go lay out in the sun
-- so today would be the perfect time to clean my bedroom. It has been
a horrible mess since December, and I should roll up my shirt sleeves
and dig in ... but I simply have no energy. Not an ounce, in my entire
body. All I can do is sit here on the foot of my bed and listen to the
radio and think.
night Scott and I went to party on Military Road (Lenny M.), and thanks
to a little scheming on our part we got Lori and Jerry to come with us,
as a double date, and it was pretty fun.
went and stayed the night at Scott's house. His cousin Gary bought us
some beer, and we sat and watched all the Saturday night comedies and
June 3, 1976
can barely believe it, but tomorrow is my last day of school - forever.
I've been dreading and fearing this day for a couple of years now, but
here it is. How do I feel? Mixed elation, trepidation, anticipation,
sadness, joy, curiosity, fear.
period - Talked to Lori in the cafeteria and the library
period - Had Roger Clark sign my annual, made plans for our class pizza
period - Signed Karen's annual, listened to the choir struggle with
"Day By Day"
period - Signed more annuals, kidded around with John Riley and Ronny Kent
period - "Quiet day" because Mr. Fosberg had a headache, had most of
the guys sign my annual, thought about how much I'm going to miss Stage
period - Worked on an assignment
home from school. Bought a nickel from Eugene Lovely. Went over to
Scott's house for pizza dinner, then shopping at Southcenter. Bought a
short white dress that I don't like and plan to exchange for a long
Friday night (or Saturday
morning) 2 a.m.
June 4th or 5th, 1976
dropped 15 hits of speed today, and now here it is nearly two o'clock
in the morning and I'm more wide awake than I've ever been in my life.
was the last day of school, and it was probably the funnest, mellowest
day I ever spent at Glacier. Sun was shining, all the seniors were
cutting class, sitting on the lawn signing annuals and tossing Frisbees
and talking. Very laid-back sort of feeling. Naturally I started crying
a barrelful in Stage Band ... I'm going to miss that class and that
insane bunch of guys like CRAZY. I was also pretty choked up when I
read some of the very sweet, very personal things that people wrote in
my annual, especially Mr. Folsom and Mr. Fosberg. Rhonda, Lori and I
all went out to lunch one last time, to our favorite lunch spot -
Herfy's - and I spent the rest of the day finalizing the dummy for the
last issue of The Avalanche, which will be distributed on Monday after
our Class Day assembly. Everyone on the Avalanche staff, all the
editors (Carole, Anita, John, me) were acting like it was the end of
the world. It was so sad to realize that we were working on the last
issue of The Avalanche that we'll ever work on.
school, Scott and I went over to my grandma's for a little while, so
she could take a picture of me on my last day of school (to go with the
picture she took on my FIRST day of school, back in September 1964!!)
Then him, me, John and Jerry went to the little park up by the Burien
Library ... we sat around the campfire pit and smoked a couple of
joints. I was pretty high from all the speed I'd taken, so smoking that
pot really put my head into a spin. (Pore liddle hed.)
This is the picture Grandma took on my last day of school.
(The pants! The shoes!! Yeesh!)
me, Scott, Jerry and Lori teamed up for the second Friday night in a
row and went to Sandy & Lori P.'s party. It was BYOB so Scott got
us some really strange Australian beer in these gigantic 25 oz. cans.
Lori had a lot too much to drink and got drunk for the first time in
her life, and she wouldn't shut up for one second ... she kept running
around the party saying "hello" to everyone. Too high. Kevin was there,
and as usual I spent a lot of time sitting by him and talking. He's the
neatest person in the world to talk to, intelligent and sensitive and
abstract. Scott got mad at me (I think) because I spent so much time
talking to Kevin. At 1 a.m., when the party was beginning to empty out,
he came over to where I was sitting, wearing his wounded pigeon face.
"Uh, I'm gonna take off now," he said, "If you want to come." He drove
me home in complete and deathly silence - a 20 minute drive, mind you -
and when we pulled up in front of my house he didn't say a word, didn't
reach over to kiss me or anything, so I just said "See ya" and jumped
out of his car.
seems as though Scott and I do nothing but pick at each other lately,
and I'm getting sick of these almost-daily emotional upheavals. I don't
know why we can't get along, and it has me worried. Maybe I'm trying to
change him into something other than what he is, or maybe he's not
making the effort to see my point of view. Who was wrong tonight? Was I
wrong to go off and socialize at the party tonight, leaving Scott to
his friends? Or should I have stayed right by his side, every minute? I
guess that I don't take into consideration the fact that Scott is
wounded by things that seem to me unimportant and detached from the
situation. For instance - I told him about Eugene coming to my house
this afternoon (I bought two more nickels from him - I don't know why,
I just had to have it) and I innocently happened to remark that he
asked me out. Then tonight Kevin was showering me with attention, and
some cute stranger named Ramos was talking to me for a while. (He asked
me if I was a model. What a line.) All these things probably begin to
add up in Scott's mind, and he wonders if he can trust me.
think he can. I do care about Scott, almost to the point of wanting to
spend my life with him. (We were talking about marriage while we were
camping at Lake Limerick over the weekend. We've decided to wait for
two years and see how we feel then.) The only reason that I crave the
attention of other guys is because it makes me feel I'm still
attractive & desirable to other men. But I'm going to have to cut
it out if I want to keep Scott! Which I do.
I can just imagine how dull and lonely summer vacation would be if
Scott and I weren't going together. We probably won't see each other
much as it is, because if everything goes the way it should I might be
working, and I know Scott will be. We'll still go out at night, but I
want to do other things with my vacation.
next week will be unbelievably hectic. Here are my social plans.
Tomorrow Greg Nelson is having a big party at his grandparents' house,
weather permitting, to which all the graduating seniors are invited.
Sunday, I don't know what is happening, but I'll probably have to go
shoe-shopping. Monday is Class Day, and (to quote Scott) it's gonna be
"decent." Scott and I are going out to breakfast at 6 a.m., and then to
Kari T.'s party for an hour or so. We're getting a fifth of Bacardi 151
for Class Day, should get good & loose. At 9 a.m. is the
traditional Class Day Assembly, where we'll all be drunk and crying and
celebrating. After the Assembly and a few final goodbyes to teachers
and underclassmen, practically every person in the senior class is
heading to Lake Morton for Cindy Koch's all-night party & gigantic
continue. On Tuesday night, Sandy and Lori will be having another party
at their house, and then on Wednesday afternoon (the 9th - graduation
day and Scott's 18th birthday) Scott's parent's are letting him have a
keg. That night at 8:00 is Commencement, which should be "sadder than
----!" and which will see Terri Vert in her urine-yellow cap and gown,
marching down the aisle to get her diploma (barely). FINALLY, Thursday
is the incredible, gigantic, spectacular Paul McCartney & Wings
concert at the Kingdome.
One week from now I'm going to be so burned out from all the parties
& drinking & emotion, I'll probably never recover. They'll have
to put me in bed and close my eyes and let me sleep forever.
are so many things that I want to do this summer ... big projects like
painting my bedroom, little things like reading Kahlil Gibran's "The
Prophet." I want to do things, go to parties and to the beach and keep
track of all the friends Scott and I have. (That's one reason why I
can't break up with him: I need him for transportation this summer!! Ha
ha.) But seriously, Scott does mean a very great deal to me, and I'm
going to resolve to try and be more empathetic and understanding, not
to criticize or make fun of him, and to above all be more sensitive to
his moods and feelings. No more of this "trying to make him jealous"
like I said, is his birthday. I still haven't figured out what to get
him. Every time I ask him what he wants he gets evasive and says things
like, "You don't have to spend your money on me." I was thinking maybe
of getting him a tape, but that seems so impersonal. But what else can
I get him? He has a whole closetful of T shirts, he doesn't wear
jewelry or aftershave. Why do men have to be so tough to shop for?
Torgrimson sent me a check today for $50 for my graduation. The
temptation to just run out and blow it (buy a few more nickels from
Eugene, maybe a pair of jeans and a bathing suit) is great ... but I've
decided to use it to open a bank account. I'm going to Highline
Community College in the fall (tentatively) and I'll need that money to
save up for my future car. Dad said that tuition money for college next
fall has "already been figured into the family budget," but knowing the
mess he usually makes of our finances I wouldn't be surprised if I end
up paying for most of it ($83 per quarter). I'm undecided as to what
classes to take, so I'll probably just take some general courses and
wait and see what I want to do.
all sounds so far away ... the thought of me at college. I haven't even
graduated from high school yet! So instead I'll just concentrate on
things that are of immediate importance.
when Kevin and I were talking, he was trying to analyze why I let
people walk all over me, the way I do, and he eventually came to the
conclusion that I just don't care enough about myself. He's always
telling me that I let what other people think become too important, and
he's right. Tonight I was sitting there on the couch with my beer in my
hand, watching (a couple of girls from school) talking on the other
side of the room, and all of a sudden I became completely
panic-stricken and paranoid because I was sure they were talking about
me. I heard (one of the girls) say something like "She's the
biggest slut I've ever known," and I was absolutely convinced that it
was me they were verbally slicing to ribbons. I felt this
uncontrollable wave of depression, and I thought that what Steve said was right -
"Everyone hates Terri Vert." Everyone knows every single thing I've ever
done, all the mistakes I've made and the things I've suffered, and the
truth combined with the myth makes me seem like a pretty horrible
person ... a slut.
I was thinking all these terrible things, imagining that everyone in
the room was thinking the worst about me. It wasn't until I finally had
the courage to ask Kevin, "Were (those girls) talking about
me?" and he said, "No, not at all" (Kevin doesn't lie to me) that I
realized that my problem isn't my reputation so much as my fear of
other peoples' opinion. Which is what Kevin has been trying to tell me
all along. So now all I've got to do is gain a little confidence in
myself, in my appearance and my talents and my personality. I don't
know how I'm going to accomplish THAT, but once I do I'll be able to
look other people face to face, without feeling inferior and worthless.
thing that Kevin and me talked about was Steve, naturally. Never a
night or a party goes by that Kevin doesn't offer me some "friendly
advice" about Steve. Tonight I think I surprised Kevin by saying softly
but with assurance, "I'm finally getting over my DISEASE." He knew
exactly what I was talking about. He looked me in the eyes, which he
always does when he talks to me, and said "I knew you would." I said
that it just wasn't worth it anymore. Kevin replied, "I don't think
there's anything worthwhile left inside of him anymore. For a while, he
seemed to have something, but he lost it. He's changed too much," I
agreed with him and left it at that. Steve is gone. I rarely see him or
talk to him, and in this case absence doesn't make the heart grow
fonder ... it helps heal old wounds and prepare the heart for new
is gone, Scott has taken his place in my heart. My high school years
are ending, but I'm looking ahead to college and independence and real
life. Summer is here - I'm 18 years old, with a whole life to live
ahead of me.
is the state of my life!
3:30 a.m. now so I'd better close. I'm still not a bit sleepy but I've
gotta try and catch some shut-eye. See ya around.
June 6, 1976
home tonight, relaxing and mentally preparing for tomorrow (Class Day).
I just took a long, hot shower and washed my hair, and now I'm sitting
curled up in Dad's armchair, watching a movie called "X, Y and Zee,"
savoring the soapy peacefulness of the moment. Scott was more than mad
at me on Friday night - he was furious. We had an unbelievable fight on
Saturday night, and the result has been a sort of invisible wall
In my lovely "Urine Yellow" graduation gown
June 9, 1976
June 13, 1976
week later. Scott and I managed to resolve our differences (after a
major fight at Cindy Koch's graduation party last week).
graduated last Wednesday night, and I am now trying to adjust to my new
role as high-school-graduate-with-nothing-to-do. I'm toying with the
idea of job hunting, but until I find a job I guess I'm content to
spend my days lazily and go out with Scott at night.
planning to go to Lake Limerick on Tuesday - Scott and I, John, Jerry
and Wayne, and maybe Cindy - and camp out for three or four days.
That should be a BLAST.
Take With Me To Limerick:
- PSSST Instant Shampoo - brush & comb - head scarf
Rubber bands & barrettes - makeup kit (Vaseline)
Toothbrush & toothpaste
Nail polish & remover
- several tops - heavy coat - sweater or light jacket
Two prs. of shoes
June 20, 1976
and Say Goodbye
week later. Seems as though I write in you every seven days, no more
and no less. Last night Scott and I went to a party at Gary Coy's house.
It wasn't all that much fun because the party was outside in Gary's
backyard and it was TOO COLD. Not only that, the keg ran out early, and
Scott and I both got tired of waiting for the second keg to arrive.
Eventually we decided to leave early and go over to Scott's house. His
parents are gone for the weekend, leaving only his grandma and sister
Kim at home, so we did something we've been doing a lot lately - I
snuck upstairs with him and crashed for the night. He brought me home
this morning at 7 a.m. on his way to work, and I'm not sure but I think
I managed to sneak in without Dad hearing me. He had his own little
party here at home last night, anyway. I imagine he really tied one on,
and is probably passed out cold in his bed. (I hope so.)
past week was a lot of fun. Our big camping trip to Lake Limerick was a
success ... HOWEVER, neither John nor Jerry could go, so it ended up
being just me and Scott for three beautiful days and nights on his
family's property. It was so much fun! We stayed in the trailer, and
went swimming and walking in the woods and built fires and layed on the
beach and talked and laughed. I think it brought Scott and I a lot
closer together, being alone with each for so long in such an isolated
place. We hardly ever argued - we shared and confided and grew. I know
that I love him deeply, deeply, and that our private little vacation at
Limerick helped cement that love.
just beginning to feel like summer, a little bit ... sunnier skies,
warmer weather, afternoons with Scott and friends down at Seahurst
Park, sleeping in late every morning and staying out late every night.
and I went to the drive-in tonight ... we saw "The Other Side of the
Mountain," which wasn't as good as it was hyped up to be, and "The
Great Waldo Pepper," which was only confusing and repetitious. But we
had a good time anyway. I really love my Scotters (my nickname for him)
and tonight it just felt extra-good to be with him. He was really tired
and he fell asleep in my arms during the second movie, and while I
watched him sleeping I felt like I'd never loved any guy that much
before, in my whole life. Scott is so different and so special. Every
time I think about him and about how lucky I am to have him as a
boyfriend, it just seems impossible that I could have that kind of
been going out for three months, and although we started out "just
friends," love just crept into the picture and took us both by
surprise. I never, for one moment, dreamed of falling in love with him
... it wasn't in my plans. I wanted to go out with Scott because I was
bored and lonely and tired of sitting home, and because I was
frustrated with my pseudo-relationship with Steve. I thought Scott
would be a pleasant diversion, a nice guy who I could go to parties
with and talk to ... but not fall in love with. I was fed up with
"love" and love relationships, and I'd heard enough phony "I love yous"
to last a lifetime. Things with Steve were a mess, and Scott came
around at just the right time, offering an alternative to boredom and
frustration. I didn't intend to fall in love with him.
things didn't work out that way, and as I dated Scott more and more, I
began to see the difference between him and the other boys I'd dated
during the year. Here was a person with sensitivity and thoughtfulness
and manners, a sweetheart of a guy who thought I was worth being
interested in. During the weeks and months I gradually began to love
guess that it wouldn't be honest for me to say that I've rid myself of
all feeling for Steve. I can't say that because it isn't true.
Somewhere deep inside of me there will always be that twinge of regret
and pain ... a tiny shred of lingering love for Steve. The passion and
desperation may be gone, but the memory will never die.
I refuse to burn a candle for him. I've tried and tried to make a
relationship out of our confused feelings for each other, but it was
& always will be futile. It's just no use ... I realize that now.
I'll just think about him once in a while, but I won't dwell. I love
Scott now, and I will continue to do so. Please God - let our
June 21, 1976
vacation, thus far, has been dull and repetitious ... nothing exciting
or interesting to do with my time. This morning I got up and answered
the doorbell (Dick came over to talk) and then I spent the day doing
little or nothing. Scott dropped by unexpectedly at 2:00 and helped me
do little or nothing. We sat on the couch, talked, joked.
a couple things worth mentioning: two important phone calls I made this
morning. First I called the Highline Community College Admissions
office, gave them my name & address and requested an application.
This time I'm going to REALLY go ahead and apply for Fall Quarter.
Secondly, I called the Highline Jobline Service and made an appointment
for a job interview on June 29. I think that after I find an
interesting job (or at least semi-interesting), life will once again
resume some semblance of order. Right now I feel listless and empty, as
though there's nothing to be gravitating around, the way everything
used to revolve around high school.
don't know if Scott and I will be going out tonight, but just to be on
the safe side I took a long, hot, soapy shower, washed my hair and put
on clean clothes. Now Dad and I are sitting here in the living room
watching "Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman" on TV. Think I'll go fix a
cheeseburger for dinner and put on some makeup.
dead tired, but I've got to iron Dad's work shirt before I can hit the
hay ... so while I'm waiting for the iron to heat up, I thought I'd
scribble a word or two.
Jerry and I went out for a few hours tonight. Scott bought a lid and
Jerry used some fake I.D. to buy us a half case of beer, and then we
went over to Blake Early's house to sit and talk and drink. I didn't feel
like drinking or getting high, I was too tired, so I just kind of kept
an eye on Scott. I don't like it when he gets too high. When we were at
Cindy's all-night party after Class Day, he got TOO TOO drunk and
slapped me across the face in front of practically everybody. (I was
taunting & baiting him, though.) That was really terrible and very
embarrassing for both of us, and ever since then I've made it a point
to quietly keep track of how much he has to drink. Tonight was OK, sort
of pleasant and laid back, but I get bored easily when everyone's
getting wasted but me.
I think I'll try and scrape together some money - I have about $13.00
in pennies that I can cash in at the bank, and I can try to exchange my
Class Day dress at The Bon Marche for a cash refund. I need some money!
wish that everything in my life wasn't so centered around MONEY. It
seems that that's the only thing standing between me & the things
that I'd like to do. If I had money, Ledger, I would buy a nice little
car and pay for my own college tuition and buy myself a new wardrobe
and a good stereo system, and maybe get myself my own apartment ...
things that I can't even begin to afford right now. I only have $70.00
in the bank, which wouldn't even be the first step toward a car or even
is going to be strange and hard to adjust to. For one thing, I haven't
developed any useful study habits during my high school years. I never
studied for tests or did my homework, my grades were terrible, and I
simply felt no motivation. I think that I'm a very intelligent person
and capable of achieving great things, but as my history teacher wrote
in my yearbook I "let the frustrations of the intellect" interfere with
my education. The potential was there ... I could have been an honor
student, if I had applied myself. That's why college will be tough for
another thing, I'm still not sure what course of study I want to
follow. Lately I've been thinking about how much I would enjoy acting
as a career, maybe in theater or stage work, but I'm not totally naive
and I realize it takes an awful lot to succeed in that business. But
what SHOULD I take? Journalism? Music theory? Art? Childhood Education?
What???? What am I going to do with my life??
guess I still can't believe that I've graduated from high school. For
twelve years I looked ahead to June 1976 with mixed anticipation and
dread, and now that I've gotten my diploma and hung my graduation gown
in the back of my closet, I've got to start thinking ahead. The
immediate future: get a job, get some money in the bank, buy a little
car, figure out what classes to take at college. As for long-range
plans, I can only speculate. Scott and I talk about getting married in
two years, and we're sexually involved now so that an unplanned
pregnancy wouldn't be totally unexpected ... and I do love him ... but
I think we both have a hell of a lot of growing up to do before we
contemplate anything as serious as marriage. So what will I do? Live at
home until I do get married? Or will I live alone for awhile, like
maybe in my own apartment or something?
seems real. Life is hard to figure ... time is hard to fight. It's too
late at night for me to be sitting here philosophizing, so I'm going to
go to bed. See ya.
June 22, 1976
I'm so bored. I have absolutely nothing to do every day but sit here in
the house, listening to the radio and eating and STAGNATING. I'm so
frustrated, it's putting me into a cranky mood. Scott called at 1:00
and all I could do was snap at him, eventually hanging up on him. What
am I doing with my life? Nothing, absolutely nothing. I have no energy,
no motivation, no sense of purpose, and it's affecting everything in my
world. I'm dissatisfied with myself, with Scott, with my home life,
with everything. This - as Scott would put it - is a fucked way to be
have no other friends but Scott. He is the only person I go out with,
practically the only person who ever calls or comes over. I never even
talk to any of my girlfriends - Lori, Rhonda, Karen, Joada. I just sit
here at home, watching myself grow fat and lazy and discontent. It's
not healthy. I've got to start pushing myself into doing things, even
something small like extra chores around the house or painting my
bedroom or riding my bike. If I don't start doing things, my whole life
is going to pass me by.
June 23, 1976
and I went to Wayne's house last night for a private party ... only
about 17 people there and a full keg, so there was plenty of beer &
plenty of people to talk to. However, it was the last day of my period
and I was in a terribly depressed frame of mind. I've managed to snap
out of it today, luckily ... I've surrounded myself with housework and
made sure I stayed too busy to be depressed. Scott and I are going to
the drive-in tonight to see two movies I've been dying to see, "Embryo"
and "The Stepford Wives." I've gotta go get dressed and ready.
a lot more relaxed and together than I have in days. I'm still
depressed about Scott's new job (with its terrible hours), but aside
from that I feel fairly happy. Maybe not happy, exactly ... perhaps
more of a tranquillity, or an inner peace. I'm not sure. We went to the
drive-in tonight as planned, and had a very, very nice time together.
It seems like recently we've been getting along so much better.
Sometimes when he's holding me tight in his arms and whispering how
much he loves me, I'm afraid my heart is going to burst with the joy of
being loved so completely. I'm just selfish, I guess. That's why his
new job bugs me so much. I'm scared to death that other interests &
responsibilities are going to pull us apart, especially when we start
college this fall, and I don't want that to happen. He just means too
damned much to me!!
tried not to make him the center of my whole life - the core of my
existence - my reason for getting up in the morning. But it's useless.
He already is. He's all I think about during the day, and at night when
I'm laying awake in bed staring into the darkness, I'm re-living things
that I've done with Scott. I'm recalling the feel of his arms around
me, or his kisses, or the disarming little nicknames he makes up for me
out of the blue. Scott is everything to me.
think he feels the same about me, but when it comes right down to it
I'm probably the one taking it most seriously. That's why if anything
should happen between the two of us and our relationship came to an
end, I'd be the one hurt the deepest. In fact, I'd be willing to bet on
would lose that bet.
I can't seem to figure out is why the hell I treat him the way I do
sometimes? Why do I have to be such a bitch, taking my bad moods and
frustrations out on him? Trying to cut him down or make him look
stupid? When we're at a party, or with some of his friends, why do I
try to embarrass or degrade him? Why do I react so emotionally and
childishly to the slightest criticism on his part? Why do I do these
love him like crazy, but I'm going to end up losing him if I don't snap
out of it, QUICK.
think about it.
A heart as soft, a heart as kind,
A heart as sound and free
As in the whole world thou canst find
That heart I'll give to thee.
Thou art my life, my love, my heart
The very eyes of me
And hast command of every part
To live and die for thee.
~ Robert Herrick
June 25, 1976
spent practically the entire
day today cleaning my bedroom - something I hadn't done since CHRISTMAS
VACATION, so you can imagine what a back-breaking job it was! It took
me six hours of sweeping, sorting, straightening, dusting and
rearranging, but I'm glad it's done. Now I have a pleasant, cozy, clean
little bedroom to relax in. Next project will be painting it - perhaps
in green or light blue - and sewing new curtains and a bedspread. I
might even get a new rug, but that depends on the money situation.
called me this afternoon and asked me to buy some more of his speed.
Naturally I said "yes" without thinking, but now I'm having doubts. For
one thing, it's so damned expensive. For another, I would hate to find
myself dependent on the stuff. Not only that, but Scott asked me not to
take any more of it.
not exactly sure that I even CARE what Scott thinks. I'm upset and
angry with him this evening, and every time I even think about him I
feel like punching him. That damned new job of his is going to destroy
our relationship. He'll be working Monday through Friday, PLUS
Saturdays if he wants to, and his hours are incredible ... he'll be
working ALL DAY selling those stinking vacuum cleaners, and until 9
every night if he gets additional appointments. Shit. The only time
I'll ever get to see him will be after 9:00 on weeknights, MAYBE on
some Saturdays, MAYBE on Saturday nights. GOD DAMN IT!!! I'm so pissed
about the whole thing I could just scream.
was home alone tonight because Dad went bowling, so when Scott called I
invited him to come over and keep me company. What did he say? "No,
Hon, I'm too tired and I want to go over my notes for the job." Hell
with him. I just won't bother asking again.
An hour later:
been sitting here in my (clean!) bedroom, writing letters and listening
to the radio, and I think it's safe to say I've regained some sense of
perspective. It's useless to sit here and fume about the whole thing
tonight ... it'll only make me fall asleep tense and angry and wake up
tomorrow morning feeling down in the dumps. I may as well look at this
thing objectively. Scott says that he loves me. If he really does, our
relationship should be able to withstand the pressures of his new job
and the conflicts it may cause. That is, IF I can be mature enough to
accept it and deal with it like an adult. After all, if my Jobline
interview is successful, I may be working soon as well, and then
Scott's working hours won't bother me so much.
guess I'm just afraid that our jobs are going to pull us apart. After
all, we'll be spending less time together, we'll be exposed to other
people and other interests, and in the past (MY past, anyway) that's
been enough to destroy happy relationships. I'll be so sad if that
happens. I don't know what I'd do without Scotters in my life.
such a big baby. I'm clinging too hard, too desperately. He's becoming
much much too important to me, and I'm becoming too absorbed in our
relationship. That's not good, but what can I do? Just sit back and
watch the whole thing disintegrate? I can't change. I've tried, but
it's impossible. How can I be something other than what I am? I've been
spoiled rotten and now everything has to be just exactly the way I want
it or ELSE. I'm strangling Scott, by trying to change him to fit my
mold, to make our relationship exactly the way I demand. I know Scott
must hate dealing with my impossible moods, my tantrums and complaints
and whining. One of these days he's going to get fed up and say
can I prevent it? I've got to change, I've just GOT TO. If I want to
keep Scott, I have no other choice. Either I stop thinking about myself
all the time and start considering him & his feelings, or else I
lose him. That's all there is to it.
I Do That Probably Bug Scott (Things To Avoid)
Lack of enthusiasm (on the phone, at parties, on dates, at his house,
Lack of understanding (when he has to work or is too tired to see me)
Expecting too much from him
Cutting him down or making fun of things that are important to him
Deliberately trying to anger him (hanging up?)
Complaining - continually
Focusing too much on myself & my own desires
Lack of tact ("That shirt is ugly!")
Friday morning 12:30
came by this morning and sold me four nickel bags of speed for $20.
After I bought it he stayed around for a while and we talked about all
sorts of things, like concerts and getting high and jobs. I told him
all about Scott, so he wouldn't get the wrong idea and try to put the
hustle on me ... what a relief to hear that he has a girlfriend named
Debbi, and that he's going to marry her as soon as he turns 21 next
week. That's good, because it means we can just be friends without any
he left I checked the bag he sold me and was VERY pissed to find it
only had 60 hits. Usually one nickel bag has 25 hits, and naturally I
was expecting to find 100 altogether. I was mad and called him right
away, but he said that it was excellent speed - "home made," he said -
and guaranteed me that one hit alone would be enough to zonk me. I
believed him but I still took three instead of just one - and my God,
was he ever right. I think I'm higher right now on this wonderful stuff
than I've ever been on any other kind of speed, and it feels great,
great, great. Can't you tell by my handwriting? Every nerve in my body
is tingling, I feel like I'm floating.
June 29, 1976
woke up and do I ever have one hell of a hangover. I feel sick, dizzy,
depressed, embarrassed and dumb. What is wrong with me, anyway? Lately I've
been really good about drinking at parties - keeping myself in check,
carefully watching the number of beers I drink, making sure I don't get
too drunk - but last night I blew it. Completely. I had WAY too much to
drink, got myself stinking drunk and ended up screaming at Scott when
he drove me home, over some dumb misunderstanding. Now he's probably
mad as hell at me, and I'm too scared (and too proud) to call and
wrong between Scott and I. The whole thing has changed, the
relationship has a different feel to it, and no matter how hard we both
pretend that everything's OK, somehow I know it isn't. I think Scott's
feelings have changed. There isn't that same old excitement when he's
kissing me. It's gone. Instead, the whole thing has become routine,
comfortable, familiar, stale, confining ...
still love him, Ledger, but I know what's coming. I've been in this
exact same position so many times before. I know when the "I love yous"
aren't real anymore. I've learned to spot the warning signs, the subtle
indications that something is wrong and the relationship is dying. I'm
just not sure I'm strong enough to go through another painful breakup
God, this song, this song is EXACTLY the way I feel. I think I'm going
Many months have passed us by.
I'm gonna miss you, I can't lie
Understand me, won't you try?
Let's just kiss and say goodbye ...
I break up with him now, before this whole thing becomes even more
painful? I can't, though. I LOVE him!!!!
is my natural tendency, I over-reacted - to a tremendous degree. Scott
wasn't and isn't mad, and all is right with the world once again.
Someone should give me an Academy Award for my performance the last two
Tuesday night (very late)
June 29, 1976
left half an hour ago (it's 1:30 a.m. now). We were sitting in my
living room watching TV, it was nice. I love him, Ledger, and I'm
beginning to feel a little more secure about his love for me. Tonight
he let his guard down a little, just enough to let me know he feels
insecure sometimes, too. He's afraid of losing me, and he really does
things on my mind: Scott, as usual ... Steve calling me this afternoon,
and telling his friends that I'm his "girlfriend" (no way) ... skipping
my Jobline appointment, a very dumb thing to do ... seeing Scott
tomorrow night ... SLEEP.
June 30, 1976
I Am The Walrus
got enough housework today to keep me busy for the next ten years. What
a dull, unexciting thing to look forward to.
Half an hour later:
ask me why (I must be weird, that's the only explanation) but I broke
down and took four hits of that excellent speed I bought from Eugene on
Friday. With all the housework I have to do, you'd think I'd have more
sense than to get myself all whacked out on chemicals, but the high I
get from that stuff is so great that I couldn't resist. Already my
handwriting is becoming illegible, but I do feel good. I haven't even
peaked yet, but I can hardly wait.
going to come over late tonight, after he gets off work at 9:30, and
then we're going to Glen H.'s keg. That will be fun, IF I can remember
to behave myself and not get too wasted like I did at Lori N.'s party
... and to not go off and talk to other guys, like I did at Sandy C.'s
or Pat M.'s ... just stick with Scott throughout the evening.
am higher than SHIT. I managed to work around my high and clean the
living room - it is immaculate. Now I have to tackle the filthy kitchen
and straighten the bathroom mess. TOO HIGH.
through with the kitchen ... nothing left but some greasy pans,
currently soaking in hot water. I'm going to SIT for a few minutes, put
my feet up and catch my breath. I've been working like a whirlwind for
the past half hour and I deserve a break, I think. I'm not as high as I
was, but I'm still brimming with energy and feeling good. My head feels
surprised me by dropping over at 2:45.
July 2, 1976
layed outside in the sun for a couple hours today - it's up in the 70's
somewhere - and managed to get a shade or two darker. Now I'm sitting
in the coolness and privacy of my bedroom, listening to the radio and
sorting things out in my head. For the past half hour I've been reading
a stack of old ledgers - the summer ledgers especially, and the summer
of ‘72 in particular - and for no explainable reason it has made
me feel sad and reminiscent. In comparison to some of the other summers
I've had (‘72, ‘74, or even last year), this summer seems dead and
pointless. I have nothing to do but sleep, eat, lay in the sun, watch
TV, listen to records and stagnate. The only person I ever see is
Scott. Since graduation I haven't even seen Rhonda, Karen, Joada or
Lori. The only thing I have to live for is seeing Scott at night.
happened to summertime? What happened to sharing secrets with a best
girlfriend ... sleepovers at each other's houses ... swimming at
crowded lake beaches ... going on church retreats to Idaho, Oregon,
California ... summer camp ... the excitement of new boyfriends, and
wondering if-he-really-likes-me? ... parades and picnics ... trips to
Point Defiance, Woodland Park Zoo, the Seattle Center ... sunny days,
laughter, new experiences ... What happened to it all? Summer used to
be so special. Now it's just another time of the year.
I growing too old, or what?
love Scott, and I'm thankful I have him for a boyfriend, someone to go
places with. But now it's gotten to the point where the most "fun" we
have is going to Seahurst Park beach with a half-case of beer, talking
to Scott's friends.
I'm just in a bad mood. Maybe I'll snap out of it. I hope so.
July 4, 1976
United States is 200 years old today!! The big, long-awaited
Bicentennial has finally arrived! Hooray!
just got home after spending the weekend at Scott's house (I left
Friday night), and as I expected, Dad is acting like a baby. I came
trudging through the front door carrying my suitcase: he was sitting in
his armchair reading the paper, and I shot him a cheery "Hi!" What did
he do? No reply ... not so much as a smile, a nod, a grunt, a
glare. I came back here to my little bedroom, and now I can hear him
slamming doors and cupboards out in the kitchen, muttering under his
breath. Tough. I refuse to let him ruin what has been, thus far, a very
pleasant weekend. If he wants to act like a child, there isn't a thing
in the world I can do about it.
Let Your Love Grow
as far as I know, we'll be going to Chris Peterson's party and then to the
fireworks display at Moshier Field. That sounds OK, but what sounds
even BETTER right now is a little nap, followed by a long, hot bath.
... at least now I know why Dad is so pissed off at me. I didn't tell
him I was staying at Scott's this weekend - I told him I went to Lori's
for the weekend - and guess who called me Saturday night?! When she
called and asked for me, he said "Isn't she over there?" Lori, puzzled,
said "No - is she supposed to be?" He got really mad at her and
snapped, "I'm going to have quite a TALK with her when she gets home!"
and slammed the phone down in her ear. Sometimes I want to move out of
this house so damned bad I could just SCREAM. He is driving me crazy.
handwriting is shaky for several reasons, among them the fact that I
took some more speed tonight and am only now beginning to come down,
and the fact that it's very early in the morning and I'm struggling to
stay awake long enough to write a word or two.
- the Fourth of July - we all piled into Jerry's car (me, Scott, John,
Wayne and Jerry) and drove to Moshier Field for the fireworks display.
Since we couldn't find anyone to buy us some beer, we all took a little
of my speed before we left Scott's house, and then smoked four or five
joints as we sat there on the dark, damp field watching the skyrockets
exploding frenetically in the sky above. Scott and I managed to get off
really good, felt wonderful. Cindy Koch and Becky O'Brien joined us, and the
seven of us sat together, passing joints and cracking jokes and
laughing. It was fun.
the fireworks were over we drove around for a little while,
unsuccessfully looking for a party. Eventually we just went back to
Scott's house and sat in his living room watching "Cooley High" on TV
and enjoying the buzz.
guys left when "C.H." was over, so Scott and I had a chance to be along
for a little while. Tomorrow we want to go and spend the day at the
Seattle Center ... that is, IF this whole stupid mess with Dad clears
itself up by then. What a hassle.
love Scott very much.
July 6, 1976
home for a change. Sitting in my armchair in the living room, listening
to an old Johnny Nash album through headphones, feeling peaceful and
worn- out from an emotionally exhausting day.
think that I should write all the details of this day, although - to be
honest - I don't really want to. I did something terrible, something
awful. I know that putting it on paper will put me in a vulnerable
position if anyone ever reads it, but it was something really important
in my relationship with Scott & I need the emotional release of
writing about it.
few days ago when I was at Scott's house & quite drunk, I stole his
mother's watch from her jewelry box. I don't know why. Maybe it was
because I was too high and had momentarily misplaced my conscience, or
because the watch was pretty and I wanted it. I don't know. I can't
rationalize it or make excuses or try to explain it away. I just did
morning Scott came over while I was still in bed, to "wake me up," and
he saw the watch sitting on top of my dresser. He didn't say anything
about it at first, but then he came right out and asked me, "Is that my
mother's watch on your dresser?"
was stunned, frozen into a silent panic, but with a sinking heart I
realized that I'd been caught and there was nothing I could do or say.
Lying would only make things worse. Without meeting his hurt look, I
mutely nodded. Scott was sick with shock and disbelief, and when he
left with the watch in his pocket he said that he "wasn't sure we
should still go together." I've never ever seen him that upset. All he
could say, incredulously, was "If only it was anyone but YOU (who had
taken the watch)!" ...
spent the day in a black fog of misery and shame. Scott had said he
would "call later," but deep inside my heart I didn't think he would. I
was sure I had lost him, and I was going insane with remorse. Late in
the afternoon, as I was watching TV with Dad, scribbling in my
sketchbook (something I only do in times of extreme depression), I
heard a car pull into the driveway. My heart came to a standstill when
I glanced out the window and saw Scott's Camaro.
wanted to "talk," so I nervously sat down on the porch outside as he
leaned against his car, arms folded, that same hurt expression on his
face. He was dressed in his work clothes, but I looked awful. My eyes
were blotchy and swollen from a day of crying and pillow pounding, and
I self-consciously played with a strand of my dirty hair.
you still upset?" he said, and I started crying again.
just feel embarrassed as hell," I said miserably.
came over to the porch and sat down next to me, and after a few minutes
he put his arms around me. "Look, Terri," he said, "I was pretty upset
when I left this morning, and I guess I was kind of mean to you, but I
just couldn't believe it happened. I still can't. I don't know why you
did it, but I still love you."
tears were streaming down my cheeks in torrents, and I buried my face
in his shoulder. Dear, sweet, understanding, beautiful Scott. Then he
whispered, "I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes." I shut my
eyes, and a moment later he was handing me a red velvet box. "I was
going to give it to you on our anniversary, but I think you need it
held my breath and opened the box. There, gleaming in gold and jeweled
splendor, was a beautiful new wristwatch.
it any wonder why I love him?
July 11, 1976
days later. Today was one of the nicest and most fun days I've had in a
long, long time. Scott and I went to the Seattle Center and spent the
entire day going on rides in the Fun Forest, playing games in the
arcade, having our pictures taken in the photo booth, walking through
the Food Circus and the International Bazaar. Scott won me SEVEN
stuffed animals, including a giant 4 ft. teddy bear and a giant polar
bear. We had so much fun, I'll never forget this day. I love him so
Taken in a Seattle Center photo booth
July 11, 1976
is our four month anniversary. I can't believe it ... time goes by so
fast. It seems like only yesterday that we went out on that first
funny, awkward date with Joada and John. Now, four months later, I love
him more than I've ever loved any boyfriend. Even Steve.
and I are still in touch - he called last night, as a matter of fact -
but I seriously doubt that I'll ever go out with him again. There's
just nothing left. I'll never stop loving him, of course, because of
all the things we went through together. But it'll never be the way it
was. I don't want it to be.
Scott is going to a baseball game with the guys, while I sit home. I
don't really mind, though ... this has been a full, tiring day and I
could easily use some rest and relaxation.
July 13, 1976
is everything managing to depress me lately?? I got a postcard from Dee
Dee this afternoon in the mail - she's in Washington D.C. with her 4-H
group - and for some reason it made me feel just terrible. I guess I'm
jealous - jealous that she's having a fun, exciting summer, while I'm
sitting home alone day after day. Why does life have to be so damned
boring and monotonous and empty?? I was afraid this would happen after
I graduated ... that my life would suddenly take a nosedive. Does
everyone feel this way after high school? Or is it just me?
lifted temporarily ... Dad called from work, suggested that we go
bowling when he gets home and then pick up some Kentucky Fried Chicken
for dinner. The prospect of physical activity, ANYTHING, even if it's
only bowling with Dad, is enough to momentarily wrench me out of my
hasn't called me all day. Yesterday we celebrated our four month
anniversary, but he was depressed because all he could to treat me to
was a Disney movie at the drive-in (he got us in on a discount coupon)
and a hamburger at Jack in the Box. When he brought me home he was so
down in the dumps he was barely speaking to me.
July 15, 1976
between Scott and I are growing increasingly strained. I can't seem to
snap out of this wave of depression, and lately he's been taking all of
his frustrations and bad moods out on me. The result is that we argue
constantly. When my feelings are hurt he grows mean and sarcastic,
making fun of me for my sensitivity.
feel so sad and sick inside. There's really nothing I can do. Either we
work this problem out somehow, or else we'll break up soon. I don't
want to lose him, Ledger, but what can I do?
called me this afternoon. Our conversation was normal, no problems,
until he asked me if I wanted to do something. My hair was dirty and I
didn't really feel like going anywhere, so I said, "No, not really."
immediately snapped, "I knew you
wouldn't. God, you're no fun anymore."
really hurt my feelings ... a verbal knife cutting right to the center
of me. I was silent and embarrassed and immediately sorry I'd said
‘no.' I asked him what exactly he had planned, and then came the
cold, hostile voice he uses to hurt me deeper.
"Nothing," he snapped
don't want to do anything with me?"
I changed my MIND," he said. He was deliberately trying to hurt me
further by talking in that infuriatingly flat, expressionless voice.
I said softly - and hung up on him.
"Some people know a lot more when you try to tell them
something than when you ask them something."
We are so used to disguising ourselves for others, that
in the end we don't know who we are.
~ Francois de La Rochefoucauld
July 19, 1976
are straightened out - temporarily, at least - between Scott and I. I
love him incredibly, and today it feels as though he loves me too.
Sometimes I wonder, though. Then I begin to doubt and to worry and to
speculate. Is it just a physical attraction? Is that all that matters
to him anymore, just the physical aspect of the relationship? Today I
tried, in a gentle way, to probe his feelings ... almost but not quite
asking him if there were more to his feelings than just sex. He acted
like I'd slapped him across the face and declared that he loves me for
me, not for my body. I let it go at that, but I still don't feel
completely satisfied. If that's true, then why do we spend practically
all of our time together expressing physical "love" ... ?
Scott. There are still so many things I don't know about you. Is what
we're doing a mistake? Is everything going to come tumbling down around
us when we least expect it? Do you love me even half as much as I love
you? Or am I going to end up hurt and defeated again ... ?
has so much sweetness still inside of him, but somehow in the four
months we've been together I've seen him grow so much older and harder
and colder. I don't know - maybe I'm just being crazy. It's late and
I'm tired and my brain ceases rational functioning.
July 20, 1976
dropped by unexpectedly this morning. I have no idea why, but I do know
one thing ... I wasn't happy to see him. I have finally,
completely gotten over him, to the point where I feel absolutely
nothing when I look at him. He wanted me to drive to Kent with him, but
I made some feeble excuse and managed to back out. I know he didn't
believe me, but frankly I don't care. He's out of my life and out of my
blood, and I intend to keep it that way.
Steve's personality consists of two parts: kindhearted, easygoing, affable
Dr. Jekyll, and cold-blooded, irrational Mr. Hyde. You never know when
he's going to change from one to the other. Whenever I was around him I
found myself walking on eggshells. I never dared talk back to him. He
berated me mercilessly, and I took it & took it. Once he got me
under his thumb, it was never ending. He mistreated me when it suited
him, whenever he got into one of his "black moods" and needed to abuse
someone to make himself feel better.
problem was that I knew how Steve could
be. At times he was the sweetest, most tender guy in the world. He was
just not consistent. I couldn't spend too much time with him and expect
him to be that way all the time. I had seen his black moods and knew
that nothing could prevent them. His attitude reminded me of someone
kicking and abusing some poor, defenseless animal. He vented whatever
ugliness was inside of him, taking it out on whoever was handiest.
There was something about him at times that I just adored, and it was
so frustrating to think, "My God, why does this person have to change
all of that is behind me now. I don't love him anymore and I doubt that
I ever will. No - I KNOW I never will.
Never say never.
"Do a disagreeable job today instead of tomorrow. You
will save 24 hours of dreading to do it, while having 24 hours to savor
the feeling that the job is behind you."
Wednesday night (late)
July 21, 1976
did something this evening that I consider symbolic ... I gave Scott
the black onyx ring that Steve tossed at me so casually last summer. Of
COURSE I didn't tell Scott that the ring used to belong to Steve - I
doubt that he would have accepted it if he knew - but by giving it to
him, I feel as though I'm finally freeing myself of every last trace of
Steve and declaring my love for Scott.
July 26, 1976
feeling very blue this evening, and since I don't have anyone in the
world to talk to except you, Ledger, I feel like pouring out my heart.
seems to be going right. I'm dissatisfied with myself as a person, my
relationship with Scott is slowly disintegrating, there's no one I can
turn to for advice or sympathy ... I almost feel like giving up. I
still have about a nickel of that really potent speed left in the
bathroom, and for one crazy minute this evening I considered taking all
of it & trying to kill myself. In the light of reality, though, I
know I was just kidding myself. No matter how desperate I get, I don't
think I could ever do something like that. In spite of the world and
the way everything seems to be crumbling around me, I still cling to
the (naive?) belief that everything will be better in the future, that
there may be something ahead of me worth staying alive for. At least I
still have a shred of optimism left.
and I simply AREN'T getting along. Nothing I do or say can erase the
sudden coldness in his tone, the forced enthusiasm I sense beneath the
surface. The only time it seems like he still cares is when we're
making love, and that can't last forever. Sooner or later we end up
arguing again - he becomes cold and arrogant, while I make a fool out
of myself by begging for his forgiveness. It's a vicious circle. I love
him, Ledger, but nothing I do can please him. Nothing. I'm always
depressed, I'm too self-critical, I'm always complaining about one
thing or another, I'm too shy and awkward, I'm too hostile toward other
people, I can't be completely honest or relaxed around him. No matter
how I try, I can't seem to change. I have a really rotten personality.
I just can't seem to warm up to other people, and compared to Scott's
natural warmth and friendliness I seem almost his polar opposite.
July 27, 1976
starts exactly two months from today. Wow, I can hardly believe that.
ME going to COLLEGE.
is really OK between Scott and I now. REALLY. I'm not sure, but I think
there won't be anymore major hassles. Everything was said today and the
air was cleared, and I discovered that we still love each other - more
were down at Seahurst Park tonight, and when we were driving through
the parking lot in Scott's Camaro, I saw Steve sitting in a white car
with two other guys. He was sitting in the front seat, and as we drove
by he turned his face away, as though he didn't see me. It didn't hurt
me, not even an inch. I'm really free of him, Ledger, I really
July 28, 1976
never been so bored in my whole life. The days just slip by, one after
the other, and nothing ever happens.
Tonight is a clear, warm, inviting summer evening, and I feel restless
and lonely. Scott's going out with his friends, he said, because he
"saw me last night." That means that I'm more or less stranded here at
home with nowhere to go. I'm so depressed.
Terri luck ... the only television program I had even the slightest
interest in watching tonight (during my enforced hibernation) has been
pre-empted for some ridiculous special about life on Mars. I'm not
surprised, I guess. I'm thoroughly and completely bored, lonely and
depressed, and even this relatively minor blow comes as no surprise.
am I doing with my life? I search and search for the answer to this one
disturbing question, and each time I'm forced to realize the equally
disturbing answer ... not a damned thing!! Sure, I have plans for
college this fall, and in the hazy uncertain future a job, "someday."
I'm relatively happy at home and I have a terrific boyfriend. I'm
eighteen years old, (fairly) intelligent and (fairly) OK-looking, with
some undeveloped talents and probably a lot of potential buried beneath
all the self-criticism and procrastination. I have some assets.
SO WHAT, for Christ's sake, if I'm not doing anything with them???
stagnating ... mentally, spiritually, physically. I'm wasting
everything that I might have. I'm not looking one inch beyond the way I
am at this moment.
graduation, I have had NO mental stimulation. To be honest, I guess I'd
have to say that it's been even longer than that, since I gave up
trying in school along about the third quarter of ninth grade. The
first time I flunked a class, I said "bag it" and threw the whole thing
away. The only classes I even gave a damn about were my music classes
(Choir, Stage Band) and Journalism. The rest of my classes - Math,
History, Literature, Biology, Speech - I couldn't care less about. I
felt no motivation and no reason for trying, and as a result I pulled
in the lowest grades of my whole life.
had nothing to do with it. I adored Mr. Flynn, but still I ignored
assignments, faked my way through tests and cut classes, earning a big
"D" at the end of the quarter. On the other hand, I've rarely disliked
a teacher as mightily as I disliked Ms. Milne, but I got straight A's
out of her Shorthand class.
I "gave up" caring about grades and assignments, school became routine
and redundant as far as classes were concerned. That feeling - almost
an apathy about learning - has stayed with me. I watch the news with
Dad occasionally. I know that Jimmy Carter is the Democratic
Presidential candidate, and that he picked somebody named Walter
Mondale to run with him ... but basically I'm very uninformed and out
of touch with the world. I read exactly one section of the daily
newspaper - "Dear Abby" in the Seattle Times and "Ann Landers" in the
P.I. Once in a while I glance at the front page, but only if there's an
interesting kidnapping or earthquake or plane crash to read about, and
lately I've been skimming the birth announcements to see if Kim &
Brian Carpenter had their baby yet.
only books I've read this summer have been paperbacks, the Gothic
romance novels that cost 95 cents at most supermarkets and take me four
hours to read. Once a week I read the National Enquirer when Dad brings
it home, and once a month I read the jokes in The Reader's Digest.
Scott loaned me some old fan magazines about the Beatles a few weeks
ago, and I sat in bed and read them in one hour.
morning I watch two game shows on TV - "The Fun Factory" (Bobby Van
runs singing through an audience of giggling, shrieking women, offering
them refrigerators and trash compactors if they can tell him which
country singer has a last name that is the same as the capitol of our
38th state) and "The Gong Show" (a fat woman belching in time to "Meet
Me In St. Louis" and "Taco, the dog with the computer brain" were two
of today's contestants). Sometimes I watch snatches of a soap opera or
an old "Partridge Family" or "My Favorite Martian" re-run.
has taken me to see a few movies this summer. They have included a
Disney movie about a Bolivian mule who kicks a football ... a horror
movie about killer worms attacking a small Southern town ... another
horror movie about a mad scientist experimenting with test-tube babies
... and a tear-jerker about an Olympic skier who breaks her neck.
all of this high quality reading material & entertainment, is it
any wonder my brain is slowly turning to oatmeal ... ?
I've got to find a way to get some mental exercise. Otherwise I'm going
to be a magnificently dismal failure in college.
suffocating in other ways, too. Socially, I feel almost dead and
buried. Aside from Scott, my social life consists of talking to Grandma
on the phone occasionally, going bowling with Dad on Thursday nights,
and giving the paperboy 75 cents once a month. I'm getting so
unaccustomed to socializing & being around other people that I was
absolutely miserable at Lori & Sandy's party the other night. I
felt shy and awkward and horribly out of place, and I couldn't wait to
I'm suffering as well. The most exercise I get is pushing the vacuum
cleaner around the living room every morning. I've been eating for
"consolation," and I've put on ten pounds (and it shows). My lack of
exercise and poor eating habits are making me lethargic, cranky and
moody. I go to bed too late every night, and then I sleep past noon
finally, I'm suffocating spiritually. I haven't been to church in two
months - since New Vision ended and I graduated out of the high school
group, I've felt no desire to return. I don't think I've so much as
cracked open my Bible in weeks. For graduation I got two new Bibles,
one from Grandma & Grandpa and one from Dale & Alice ...
they're laying on my closet floor, unopened and undisturbed as they
"sleep in heavenly peace." I haven't prayed in such a long time that
I've almost forgotten how.
added together shows you just how dull and empty my life really is. The
only excitement I get is when Scott takes me to the drive-in, or I
clean my bedroom, or the sun shines I can lay outside and futilely try
to get a tan ... but even these "thrills" turn flat and empty when
Scott and I argue on our way home from the drive-in, or I realize how
terrible my bedroom really looks, clean or not, or I burn instead of
tan and end up wearing long pants to the beach to hide my pale white
legs. Nothing is real. Nothing counts or thrills or excites anymore.
wish I knew if I were normal. Is it normal for an 18 year old girl to
be as discontent and bored and unhappy as I am? Or is there something
really wrong with the inside of my head and my way of thinking?
wish I knew.
couple of days ago, when Scott and I had another one of our terrible
fights and he left my house in an icy cold rage, I called his house in
tears to apologize and beg his forgiveness. His mother said that he
refused to come to the phone - that he told her to tell me "he wasn't
home." His mom could tell that I was deeply upset, so she offered me
some advice. "Terri," she said simply, "You know, when you're with
Scott you really should make an effort not to criticize yourself so
didn't tell me anything new. I'm not dumb. I realize that I'm probably
my own worst enemy. My continual self-criticism has torn down every
trace of self-esteem I might have had. I'm totally dissatisfied with
myself as a person ... I have no love for myself. No real love, anyway. I may be selfish
and self- engrossed, but basically I don't love other people because I
don't love myself.
eighteen years old, supposedly at the best time of my life. I have my
whole life ahead of me. (That won't
last. I'm going to grow old.) I'm young, healthy and fairly
pretty. (That won't last either -
with the passing of years, health and looks will diminish.) I
have a fairly happy and comfortable home life. (Dad is a weekend alcoholic, the house is
overrun with dogs and houseflies, I have too much freedom for my own
good and the kitchen sink is clogged again.) I have a terrific
boyfriend who loves me. (We fight
every other day, I'm too dependent on him, he likes to play ping pong
with my emotions, and neither one of us has any money.) I'm
musically and artistically talented, and I love to express myself in
writing. (No argument here, except
that I'm seldom motivated enough to do anything about it.)
well ... it's 11:30 and I'm suffering from a severe case of writer's
cramp. Time to close.
awake. I made Scott a little man out of red Play-Doh, with bulging eyes
and a toothy grin, holding a little flag that says "I LOVE YOU." When
it hardens I think I'll give it to him as a present.
August 1, 1976
went to the first Seattle Seahawks game at the Kingdome with Grandpa,
so I was alone all afternoon. Watched a couple of old movies on TV,
started a new book, talked to Scott on the phone.
night Scott, John and I went downtown to watch the Seafair Torchlight
Parade. It was pretty cold, but that didn't dampen my little-girl
excitement at the sight of floats, clowns, Seafair pirates, drill
teams, majorettes, marching bands, horses, smiling queens, happy
children ... it was fun.
I went through a couple of my recent diaries and found myself tearing
out a lot of pages. I've decided that there are too many things in my
past & in my thoughts that I would rather not reveal to anyone. (I
didn't want Scott to know about the abortion.) Next
I'll go through all my journals and do the same.
back, I think this is one of the stupidest things I've ever done in my
life (and that's really saying something). I've ALWAYS regretted censoring those high school and
college journals. Consider this a cautionary tale, if you're ever
thinking about editing yourself. Someday, you WILL regret it.
You know, it's really sad that I don't feel secure enough to confide in
my journals anymore ... tearing out pages from diaries & ledgers
lately proves it. I'm beginning to feel so paranoid that someone is
going to READ the awful things I've written, and I don't trust myself
to be completely honest when I'm writing anymore. More and more lately
I find myself skipping around the actual facts or covering up the truth
with nonessentials or white lies.
made a lot of dumb mistakes in my life ... that's true. I've said
things I didn't mean, done things I shouldn't have done, associated
with people who tricked me into believing things that weren't true.
I've had my share of sorrow, regret and shame. But always, ALWAYS in
the face of failure, I've confided truthfully and candidly in my
ledgers. I haven't always been proud of the accounts I've written -
there have been times when I've felt physically ill simply writing
about some of my mistakes - times when I would have liked nothing more
than to cover up the truth, or lie - but the need to be honest in my
ledgers always prevailed.
that's gone. Now I'm afraid, scared, worried ... I'm afraid that
something might happen to me, or that my ledgers might fall into the
wrong hands, or that I might be tricked into revealing what is best
kept hidden ... and I feel the need, instead, to destroy all evidence
of my human weaknesses & shortcomings. That's why pages are
missing, words are blotted out, accounts are incomplete (or missing
altogether). Because I'm afraid.
will always remember the things which I'm choosing now to hide ...
maybe that's all that matters. I won't need a written account, for I'll
have all my memories hidden inside my heart. There, at least, they will
be safe. I
don't remember what I had for dinner last night, let alone unrecorded
things that happened thirty-plus years ago. Yet another reason
you must NEVER EVER EDIT YOURSELF.
Monday early evening
August 2, 1976
had a job interview today at Pacific Coast Services ... and I actually
got the job!! I'll be working as a telephone solicitor, selling rug and
upholstery cleaning services, six hours a day (9 to 3) for $2.30 an
hour. The job might be a little monotonous, sitting at a desk for six
hours calling people on the phone, but frankly all I care about is the money. I'm desperately in need of
money, for new clothes, for a car, for my college tuition. I may not
even be able to GO to college this fall quarter ... Dad and I are so
broke it would take a miracle. Or a job. That's why I'm thankful to
have this job, in spite of the terrible working conditions (stuffy
little office, no lunch break, hard uncomfortable chairs) and the
crummy wages. The only thing that worries me is the fear of being fired
if I don't meet the sales quota. Scott works there too, and he said the
company expects you to sell a minimum of three appointments per day,
and that a person can be dismissed if they don't make any appointments
for two days in a row.
will be my first job, and I know that if I get fired I'll be crushed.
I'm too sensitive about criticism and about my lack of warmth towards
other people, and being fired would be the end of my world ...
temporarily, at least.
past 11:30 at night. I have to get up at 7:30 tomorrow morning, take a
shower and set my hair and prepare to join the working world. For that
reason, I should be tucked
snugly between my blankets, fast asleep ... but I'm nervous, and I
can't seem to relax. Writing may help me unwind a little, enough to
Vert is in the hospital again .. she went in Saturday night with heart
problems, but I didn't hear about it until yesterday. Saturday
afternoon Grandma called me and we talked for a half hour, about Dick
and my new job prospects, so she must have had her attack while I was
at the parade with Scott and John. I called her this afternoon at the
hospital and she said she feels "fine" and she sounded glad I called.
It made me sad to talk to her, though. She sounded so tired and worn
and far-away, and I had an ache in my heart when I realized how old she
is and how much suffering she's going through. I love my grandmother
dearly, and I'm going to pray extra-specially hard for her tonight.
did something different with my bedroom tonight. I got tired of looking
at the dull, boring art prints I'd tacked to my west wall, so I used a
little imagination and used the space to arrange several favorite
pictures. It actually looks kind of nice.
Tuesday 4:30 p.m.
August 3, 1976
so much for being part of "the working world." I got fired after only
one day of work at that crummy place. I feel just miserable.
August 13, 1976
Scott and I celebrated five happy months together. It seems as though
it's been much longer than that! Sometimes it feels like I've been with
we're going to do our celebrating tonight - after Scott gets home from
work, he's going to take me out to dinner. That'll be nice!
called and said he can't take me out to dinner tonight because his
paycheck wasn't as big as he thought it would be. Very disappointed.
has everything been going wrong this summer? Lately I've been facing
letdown after letdown, and it's all becoming a bit too much to handle.
I was dumb to be so excited about dinner tonight ... I was
just setting myself up for a big disappointment. When Scott called, I
was so crushed that I actually hung up on him. Now I should call him
back and apologize for my bad manners, but like always pride is
standing in my way.
August 16, 1976
the evening quietly, watching TV and relaxing. I stayed at Scott's
house again this weekend, and it was beautiful. I've said it before and
I'll probably say it a billion more times - I love him so much. As
usual, Dad was super-mad at me for staying out all night Saturday night
and all day Sunday, but I spent today doing an extra-thorough job of
housecleaning and managed to butter him up enough to escape punishment
August 17, 1976
listless, restless, frustrated ... in some ways I'll be relieved when
this summer is over. What a disappointment it's turned out to be. I
thought the summer after graduation would be so fun and exciting and
full of different things to do, but instead it's turned out to be a big
fat disappointment. Scott promised he'd call tonight, but it's 8:00 and
he hasn't so he probably never intended to. That means that I am, as
usual, sitting home alone. All alone.
damned political convention is pre-empting EVERYTHING on television ...
that leaves me completely devoid of anything to do. I've never felt
this bored and at loose ends. Maybe I'm "un-American" to feel the way I
do, but I hate these stupid conventions being broadcast on every major
network all evening. I watched an hour of it tonight, and frankly I've
never seen anything so dull.
August 23, 1976
much to say.
in bed, watching "All In The Family," relaxing and thinking and
weekend Scott and I went down to Lake Limerick with his family for the
weekend. We left on Friday morning and came home late last night, and
it felt really good to get away from everything for a few days and
enjoy the beauty and quietness of the woods. Scott's family owns a lot
near the lake, with a nice trailer and firepit. It wasn't exactly
primitive-style camping, since the trailer has indoor plumbing and
running water and three rooms, but Scott and I took several walks in
the forest and down by the lake, and I felt a calmness and an inner
peace that I haven't felt in months.
I "recuperated" from the trip ... I slept in late and then took a
shower and washed my hair. Scott had the day off, so he surprised me by
taking me out to lunch (Taco Time) and then we spent the afternoon
rummaging through stacks of old records at Goodwill downtown. I made
several excellent "finds" - two Simon & Garfunkle albums in
near-perfect condition ("Bookends" and "Bridge Over Troubled Water")
for 89 cents each. I ‘ve always wanted the latter because it has
one of my all-time favorite songs on it, "The Only Living Boy In New
York." I also bought fifteen 45's, including an obscure, hard-to- find
oldie called "I've Had It" by Fanny, "She Didn't Do Magic" by Lobo and
"Crimson & Clover" by Tommy James & The Shondells. Lately I've
developed a passion for digging through old record stacks. They're
usually ten cents or twenty five cents apiece, and I've found some old
songs that used to be my favorites, songs I'd completely forgotten
about. It's nice to have a new hobby.
as this may sound, my biggest worry right now is whether or not I'll be
getting any money for school clothes. Last spring Dad promised me $200
to buy a new wardrobe, but something went wrong and I ended up going
without. Now I'm about to start college and I have absolutely nothing
to wear. I have one old pair of jeans which I wear every day, but NO
other pants. I'm sorely in need of a few new outfits. I haven't scraped
up the nerve to ask Dad whether I'm getting any clothes money or not
... I'm just crossing my fingers, hoping.
wonder what college is going to be like ... probably completely
different than anything I've yet experienced. Probably a little scary
& a little disappointing & a lot harder than high school. At
least I'll have Scott there to help me. Originally he planned to go to
Green River CC, but after we started dating he changed to Highline so
we could be together. Another thing I'm afraid of is that going to HCC
is going to tear the two of us apart. I don't know what I'd do if that
happened. Other people, other interests, other activities might come
between us when we start college and destroy our relationship. But I
guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
August 24, 1976
bored, bored, bored, BORED!!!!!
August 25, 1976
bored, bored, bored, BORED!!!!! What else can I say? I've never
lived through a more boring, uneventful period in my entire life. I'm
practically crawling the WALLS. This boredom is affecting everything
about me ... I feel irritable and grouchy, listless and dissatisfied
for no justifiable reason.
August 26, 1976
many pages left in this ledger, are there? A lot of things have
happened in the past
August 31, 1974
is the last day of August - tomorrow will bring September and the
beginning to fall and perhaps several important changes in my world and
lifestyle (starting college, for instance) - so I think that tonite
will be the last time I write in you, Ledger. Starting tomorrow I
intend to make sure things change in my life, and I'll need a new
ledger to celebrate a new beginning.
has really been a disappointing summer, in that
(Entry and journal end here ... thank god)
Favorite Songs During This
Really Hurts" - Billy Ocean
"Silly Love Songs" - Paul McCartney
"Let It Grow" - Eric Clapton
"Combination" - Aerosmith
"Rock ‘n Me" - Steve Miller
"Kiss And Say Goodbye" - The Manhattans
to throw a rock?