Diary of George
See Part I at geocities.com/melisasmithus
Part II at geocities.com/melisasmithus/mel2.html
June 11
I saw Eliot yesterday and everything is fine. I stayed over there until about 12, posing in the afternoon and treats in the evening. Mom thought I was with Ronald. Ronald picked me up again today but we went to The Lakes this time because it was raining. We only played one set, then we ate cheeseburgers and ice cream sandwiches and went into the golfcart shed and kissed. It smelled like cut grass in there, but it was nice with the rain falling on the metal roof and we were dry. It was kind of dark in there because of the rain and we just sat in this golfcart way at the back and kissed. Nobody needed golfcarts because it was raining. They have to plug those golfcarts in to juice them up, that's what Ronald said. He plays golf, too. I was afraid we might get cancer from those batteries, because some of them were kind of buzzing, but Ronald said that was normal. I said could we get electrocuted? He said, Nah, everything is grounded. I said, Oh. I don't know much about electricity yet. He probably doesn't either, he just wants me to shut up and smooch. For a brainy guy he was sure grabby. He went for my boobs after about the first five minutes. That's OK, I was just surprised. My sportsbra was not cooperating, so I just took it off. Ronald almost came in his shorts when I did that. I put my top back on, but it didn't cover much without the bra. He had a full view. He said he wished it wasn't so dark. I think honesty is the sexiest thing. I grabbed his cock through his shorts and kind of rubbed it. I think that surprised him, too. I don't think he's ever been with a girl who grabbed back like that. There wasn't anything we could do there. We couldn't have sex in that cart. And I didn't want to do it in his car. Plus I didn't want to think about Bcontrol. So I just gave him a treat. He couldn't believe it. He came in about ten seconds. He was totally dazed after that. I wasn't even sure he could drive us home.
June 12
I'm beginning to think maybe I'm a slutpuppy. Three guys and I'm not even 16. Does oral sex count? Maybe 2 and a half guys.
June 15
I got together with Ronald again. I told him I could only do oral because I didn't like to do Bcontrol and he said fine. The thing is I'm already worried about the rhythm thing with El and if I start doing Ronald, too, it will just be too confusing. If I was on the pill I could be a sexgirl, but I'm not ready for that (the pill, I mean). I'm not worried about Ronald being a risk. If he has AIDS then that little boy with the origami cups has AIDS. I think Ronald is a virgin, although I haven't asked him. I don't want him to ask me and then I say no and he doesn't like it. I wanted to get rid of the V and now I don't want to admit it. I guess I'm weird.
Ronald asked if he could give me a treat too. I said sure. He wasn't bad. He was certainly into it. I mean excited. If a guy's excited, you get excited too, no matter what he does almost. Ronald likes me to just stand there in front of him naked and then he gives me little butterfly kisses all over and then gives me a body rub all over, just admiring everything. He acts like he's in heaven and it makes me feel very good. Sometimes I feel guilty about Eliot and I don't know what to do.
June 19
Ronald is cute sometimes but he doesn't look anything like El. El is so hunky. I think even if he was stupid, or like couldn't ever say a word, I would still be half in love with him. He looks like a viking or something. Or kind of like Jesus in those old pictures, I mean paintings, especially when his beard gets long. Ronald is only like my height, or maybe an inch taller. El is about six inches taller. Ronald doesn't really have any muscles. Eliot doesn't work out, just like pushups and stuff, but he's just built good. He'd have muscles if he just slept all day, which he practically does. He's like a lion. El thinks I'm cute and sexy, but Ronald thinks I'm the bomb. Ronald thinks I'm like Heidi Klum. El's a little bit tired of me, I think. Not Ronald, yet. I'm not tired of Eliot, but I'm a little tired of the situation. Because we never go out. I like playing tennis and stuff with Ronald, but if I start having real sex with him, then I almost have to stop with Eliot. Or go on the pill and be a sexgirl, with two guys at once. I can't quit with El, and I don't want the fucking pill. So I don't know what to do.
June 24
Eliot is getting really paranoid. He read about some boy getting arrested for sleeping with his girlfriend in Michigan or somewhere even though she was almost eighteen and he was like 20. He talks about that stuff constantly. It gets old. He said we should have a plan in case we get caught. I'm like whatever. If the cops were after us they would have got us already. But he said if they got him we should have our story straight, so we could lie the same. He said we should say that we went out a couple of times but when he found out how old I was he broke it off. We never had sex. I should say I still visit him occasionally to try to get him to change his mind, because I am obsessed with him, but that he won't listen to me and asks me to leave. I should say I have other boyfriends who I have sex with. I said what if the cops ask those guys about it? He said don't I know any guys who would pretend if you asked them to. Like geeks in your math class. I was like, maybe. It was really getting weird. For a minute I thought he was being tricky, trying to trick me into telling about Ronald. But I don't think he was. He was serious.
June 27
All my practice with Ronald has made me a better tennis player at least. Since I won the 13-15 bracket last year, I have to play the 16-18 this year, even though I'm not 16 until December. At least I won't have to play Kristin Lindstrom again. I could win anyway, because the only other girl who is better at The Lakes is Felicia Bradson. But Ronald watched her play and he said I could beat her no problem. He is my professional scout. We are targeting her weaknesses. He says since I am fast, from cross country, I should work on my net game and volley a lot more. I said she'll just lob me. He said we would work on my overhead. He's teaching me to watch for a lob and start backing immediately, so I can smash it. I don't know if it will work, but it's fun practicing.
June 28
I keep forgetting to study for my tests. Mom made me take another practice test. Somehow my SAT verbal got better even though I haven't done shit. I just looked over my vocab list and then nailed a 590! She doesn't make me practice the math. I scored 680 on the first one and she said even if that's as high as I go, that's fine. I don't think she likes me scoring so high on math. Girls aren't supposed to score high on math. I want to score super high on math though because that's the only way I can beat Eliot. He's older and better looking so I have to have something on him.
June 29
Ronald's cock is a little smaller than Eliot's. Eliot's curves up more. But El is almost too big. He kept hitting that diaphragm and he bumps me sometimes, especially from behind. It hurts a little if he does it wrong. It feels nice that he's big around, but he's too long, really. I wonder if those porn girls get bumped. They look pretty big, though. They're probably all freaks in those movies, guys and girls. If they had kids already they probably can't feel anything. Maybe that's why they do anal all the time in those movies, so they feel something. That seems like a little too much feeling. I saw some of those girls had episiotomy scars. I wonder if guys like Eliot, or Jeffery Ainsworth, know what that is. They must think we have a bunch of weird looking stuff down there. Like they don't.
I wonder what Ronald would feel like. I wonder if he would know how to move or if he would be like Tom.
July 8
El hardly ever changes his sheets so his bed smells just like us. I always sleep on the same side with the same pillow, so you can tell which pillow is his and which is mine just by smelling them. We had a pillow fight, and when we stopped he goes, hey that's my pillow, and I said how do you know, they have the same white pillowcases that you probably stole from Motel6 and they're the same brand of pillows that your Mom probably bought you for college. And he goes, here, see. And he smelled the pillow and handed it to me. He said that's your shampoo, Nexus. Then he grabbed his. That's my shampoo, Suave. He was right. It wasn't just shampoo. It was kind of smelly, but a good smell. Like sleep and sex. Have you ever spilled coffee on your hand and then not washed your hand. An hour later your hand smells so good. Like burned marshmellows. El says he can smell me on his hands like hours later and it makes him happy. Guys are weird.
July 12
We had a summer reading list at school that of course I've mostly blown off. I mean most of it I'd already read but there were three or four things I wanted to check out. The only one I've read so far is Tristan and Isolde. I wish I'd read all the really old romantic stuff before I read Flaubert and Gatsby and seen Tarentino and XFiles and porn. At least I'm not like Maud Gonne, or Anne Frank, scared of the cat's bitte, but I'm not very Romantic either. I hardly ever thought about marrying Eliot, and when I fucked Tom it was no big deal, and then Ronald. It's like, I'm not really waiting for some prince to ride up on a white charger. I couldn't relate to Isolde. Guys aren't like that anymore. It's sad, but if you learn to want a prince, if you learn to be a princess, then what. You're just building your own cage.
I want to write like Virginia Woolf, but she had a room of her own, and then she had to live in it like a cage. Like poor Emily Dickinson. I'd love to be a princess but I don't want to be a maiden. I don't think I know what I want.
July 15
Eliot said it was weird that I read so much but none of the grammar or vocab really stuck. I think it's because I read just to follow the story. I never pay any attention to the sentences. I used to never look up words. I just don't care. I want to feel the feelings and the rest is worthless. He said that was pretty idealistic. I said fine, I'm an idealist. Does that mean I can't write? Do I have to be a scientist or a mathmatician just because I don't want to write like Cormac McCarthy or fucking Flaubert, taking five years to write a piece of shit. I want to tell a story and fuck the rest of it. If I have to tell it with just five words or just periods and dashes like morse code, still I could come up with a better book than 99% of the shit I've read. A better story, with more life in it. He said I hope so, I hope you do.
July 18
Eliot sold that big painting of me to this collector in California for a buttload of dough. I couldn't believe it when he told me. It was his biggest sale yet. He had to give half to the gallery, but it was still a lot. We celebrated by going to Joliet and eating at this French place called Le Bistro D'Arnould. We didn't have any wine, but we ate like pigs. He had duck and I had this monkfish that was incredible. And we had chocolate mousse. He spent like $80. When we got home I was like, so how much do I get, and he goes, I'll give you all you want, mon petite cuchon. And I go, you know what I want, and so he gave it to me. Twice. He wanted to again but I had to go home.
July 19
Ronald has been in New York with the German club, so I haven't had to worry about him.
July 26
Tomorrow is our anniversary. I think we're driving to San Cristo to eat this time. We have to leave earlier, so we can be back in time for treats.
July 27
I just got back from El's. I'm so full and happy. We ate Italian. Arturro's. Eliot spent a bunch of money again. I tried to chip in, but he said he was still rich from selling my naked body. I had already done my part. I laughed, but I started thinking, when he put it that way, I wonder where the painting is. Like who bought it. Some disgusting old man, probably. I asked him if he knew. He said he didn't want to know. It would probably depress him. The guy probably made all his money in deforestation or something. All money was dirty. I was thinking maybe it was dirty in another way. I didn't want to think about some stranger jacking off in front of El's beautiful painting. He said don't worry about it. Some of his nudes were bought by women. Women bought nudes, too, he said. I said why? He said, he didn't know. Some of them were married. Maybe they really liked art. Maybe an investment. Maybe sex. Who knows. You had to hope they loved art, loved beauty, like us. All we could do is make beauty. We couldn't make people see it. Or buy it.
Anyway, we ate poor little baby veals that were so tasty, and shrimp caught in huge drift nets. I'm making myself miserable, but we were very happy eating and looking at eachother and the candles, and all the bread and butter. They brought us three baskets of bread. And we had tiramisu and cappucino. We were so full when we got home we had to just lay there for about two hours until we could move. Then we lit some candles and listened to this old music Eliot had of Nat King Cole, like love songs from the 50's. El actually has a record player. And it was raining outside so we opened the windows and it smelled nice and the candles were flickering and we just laid on his blanket on the floor. We traded backrubs and then treats. And then we were all sticky so we took a shower, not too hot, and then more treats. Then I came home. I can't stand coming home. I want to just stay and sleep with El so bad, it makes me cry.
July 31
Ronald is home and I played tennis with him today at Fairfield, but I didn't feel like treats with him. I think El and me are getting along so good I don't really want to do anything with Ronald. He was kind of mad. I think he was really looking forward to seeing me, after being away for so long. I felt bad, but that's it.
August 3
I gave Ronald a treat today, even though I didn't really want to. I still like him a lot and I don't want to lose him. Not yet. He wanted to give me treats but I told him it was my period, which is a lie, but I just need time to think.
August 5
The tournament is next week, so me and Ronald are practicing everyday, practically. I am smashing the shit out of it. Watch me get in the tournament and nobody lobs.
August 7
I think with all the smashing, my serve is getting better. My second serve is still iffy, but I'm hitting my first serve harder, I think.
August 10
I took all the practice tests in my SAT books, so Mom got me another one, from a different company. I'm sick of that shit. I can't wait till Thanksgiving and then no more of this bull-oney. I've been reading some of those books Mr. Holmes gave me. But it's so boring to study math by yourself. Doing problems is boring. I end up turning on the TV real low where Mom can't hear it, and then not doing anything hardly except watch cartoons. I'm hooked on Dexter.
August 12
Didi has been hanging out with this new guy named Brent. He has a band, like that other guy she was dating, but he's not so completely dopey. I mean he's not into LedZep or Rush or Greenday or Biskit or some shit like that. He has pretty good hair, but not great. He's pretty funny, really. I went with them to Blockbuster to get these movies for this weekend while El is in Cal, and Brent has this thing where he never pays for one of the movies. You know how they have that guarantee where if you don't like the movie you get a free one? They do, but no one ever says anything. Well he says he hates the movie everytime, so he's been getting one free movie for like five years. I bet they hate to see him come in. He said one time they gave him a hard time, they were sick of his ass, and the girl goes, "They can't all suck. Why don't you ever get one you like?" He just goes, "Bad luck, I guess." She's like, "How do we know you didn't like it? Maybe you're just saying that." And he goes, "How would I prove it? You got a lie detector test?" And they're like, whatever, get the fuck out. They have to keep giving him free movies, though, unless they quit doing that guarantee. He does the same thing at Eckerd, he said. He sells back almost all his pictures. He's a shitty photographer, so only like one or two out of 36 will be good. So he'll sell back 34. He said, hey, it's their policy, not mine. I'm not doing anything wrong. Why do people feel bad about taking them up on their guarantees at those places. Their stuff mostly sucks anyway. That's the only reason I go there. Everyplace ruins 'em, but they ruin 'em for cheaper. You know how they're supposed to have that stinking Kodak colorwatch thing, he said, with Bill Cosby like studying every print with a magnifying glass? That's a bunch of crap. They just spit 'em out in about ten seconds and never even look at the dials on the fucking machine. They don't give a fuck what your stuff looks like. So if they want to have their lying commercials and stupid guarantees, that's their business. It doesn't make me like some bad guy.
August 15
That tournament was today. Ronald came to watch me, but I wish he hadn't. I got beat in the semis by Gina Patterson, who I should be able to stomp anyday. I didn't even get to try out the new strategy on Felicia Bradson. I rushed the fucking net everytime against Gina but it didn't work so hot. She passed me pretty easily. She tried to lob at first, but I smashed one on her. Ronald was all happy for about ten seconds. But then she started passing me. I'm not that big so there's quite a bit of room on both sides because my arms aren't long enough. Ronald didn't think any of the girls I would be playing would be accurate enough to pass me, but even though Gina doesn't hit the ball hard, she can be pretty accurate. After she beat me the first set, I told Ronald I was staying back. I've beat Gina with my groundstrokes before. But she was like all hot and pinpoint accurate from practicing passing me, and she was hitting the lines on every shot, making me run like crazy. I got tired and lost. Gina was still hot in the finals and beat Felicia for the first time in her life I think. Felicia couldn't believe it either. Felicia hits the ball probably twice as hard as Gina, but Felicia started trying to hit the lines too, and she kept missing. Gina just psyched her out. Oh well. I was kind of mean to Ronald afterwards. Like blaming him for it, even though it wasn't his fault. I'm such a bitch. Everyone around me is so nice, and I'm horrible. I don't know why. Why am I so competitive? Why do I care about a stupid tennis tournament? I've got major head problems.
August 20
El is back and it's so nice. Except that school starts next week, and I think this semester is going to be the busiest semester of my life. First, me and the rents are driving up to New England to check out some colleges in a couple of days. Mom said I should look at a few campuses before I made my final decision where to apply. So we're going to hit Haverford and Bryn Mawr and Swarthmore, in Philly, and then check out Princeton, in Jersey. Then Amherst and Williams in Mass. I'm also thinking about some colleges in CA, like Berkeley, mainly, but we're not going there. We don't have time, Mom says. She said I could visit one big college, and two smaller ones. Princeton is the biggie, even though it's not very big. The ones in Philly are right together, so they count as one. And Williams is pretty near Amherst, so we'll probably go there unless I'm really sure about one of the others by then. Mom said I should check out Smith, which is even closer and a good school, but I want to go somewhere where there's some guys.
August 21
El told me if I go to Amherst I can take classes at Smith and Mt. Holyoke and UMass anyway, so that's cool. He said Williams was pretty isolated. He thought about going there, but he was afraid he would get bored. He said I should go to Berkeley or Stanford, except that maybe San Fran was going to fall into the ocean while I was there. I don't know about that. Me and El tried this lambskin condom, like a natural condom. It was weird but he was willing to try it so I thought it was worth it. It was supergross. I mean it felt all right to me even though he said he couldn't feel anything, but it got all goopy and white. We had to turn off the lights to keep from barfing. El hates it without the lights. He likes to look at me. He says what's the point of having a beautiful girl if you can't look at her. I don't argue with that. Plus I like to look down and see him going in and out.
August 26
We're back Kitty. I didn't take you along because I was afraid Mom would see you and be curious. So I have lots to tell. Haverford was the prettiest campus of all. And Bryn Mawr. They're coordinated. They have tennis and cross country. They even have cricket! You can even still be a Quaker there. It was pretty small, though. The only place that was smaller was Williams. Every building looks like an old church. Princeton was beautiful too, and not quite so small. I even saw some cute guys there, even though school hasn't started. Princeton is close to New York City. Mom said I'd probably have a car, if my record was clean next fall, so I could drive into the city with friends if I got bored. Mom didn't say that last part. I don't think she would want me to drive to NY by myself. Mom said Princeton was more strong on science, so if I changed directions (hint, hint) I wouldn't necessarily have to transfer. Mom doesn't want me to go into science or math, but I think Mrs. Coulson has her convinced I will. Amherst was like Haverford, but not quite as pretty. Mt. Holyoke and Smith are girls' schools, but they are very good for some things. UMass is pretty strong on science, but it is ugly. They have these big concrete buildings there. The fine arts building is the ugliest building there, go figure. I don't think I would take any classes there, it would be too depressing. Emily Dickinson and Robert Frost lived in Amherst. Williams is in Williamstown. Williamstown has about fifty people living there, besides the college. The only thing about Williams is they have a great museum. If I was going to study art I might go there. Smith is good for art too. I think I am leaning toward Princeton, or maybe Amherst second. But that's just of the ones we visited. I still might go to California. It would be warmer for sure.
August 27
School starts tomorrow. Ronald is all mad. He says we should just "break up." He thinks we're "going together." Poor boy. I told you, I'm horrible. The Princess Horrible. I don't know why I keep giving him treats, stringing him along. I think I just like him. And I like knowing how he likes me. It makes me feel big. How pathetic. At least I admit it. He says if we're not ever going to have sex, he needs to find another girl. It is driving him crazy, he says. The treats just make it worse. I asked him if he would be willing to use a condom. He said sure. I told him I would think about it. I don't know what to do. He won't make me pregnant with a condom, but he'll sure make me confused. The last thing I need is to go crazy this semester.
August 28
It's going to be weird this year, being a senior but all my friends are juniors. In half my classes I don't even know anyone. In physics, it's all seniors and practically all guys. Practically all dorks. Except for Ronald. I made him sit a few seats away. I said otherwise we wouldn't be able to concentrate. I said me, but mostly him. Same thing in calculus. I have to take junior english and senior english at the same time, which is crazy. Then French 4 and Cross Country. If I didn't get to run I think I would go crazy.
August 29
I got another letter from Margaret. It sounds like she's doing OK in Vancouver. I think Mom saw the letter. If she saw the postmark, if she's even smart enough for that, Margaret's parents might be looking for her there. I wish I could warn her. I think she is better off never seeing them again, especially her Dad who should be shot and burned. I saw him at the CC, drinking his fucking scotch or whatever with his golfer clothes on and that stupid fucking hat that makes him look like a retarded train conductor, and I wanted to throw acid in his face or yell he raped his daughter, but everybody probably already knows and they don't care, or they secretly wish they could. They all ought to be drowned under the sea.
Margaret is living with some guy but he sounds OK. He is like some hippy who works at a coffeeshop, but at least he has a job. It could be worse for her. And she just sounds so much better, like talking about her hair and this dog they found and about all this guys music and his guitars and stuff. I hope they never find her.
August 30
You know what's beautiful? Rhythmic gymnastics. I was watching the Olympics today and those girls are so beautiful. It made me want to practice with girls more. I wish I looked like that. I thought I was pretty skinny, but those girls are so long it's incredible. Maybe it's just the way they move. With their toes pointed all the time. I can't imagine practicing so much for routines though. They must have to practice six hours a day or something. This one girl, one of the Russians, she throws that little ball up about thirty feet in the air and then does this split leap and then another one, way across the floor, and she times the second one just right, so that her back leg kicks the ball back up about twenty feet and then she catches it. The ball went right where she was going. I couldn't believe it. It's like magic or something. It's impossible. What's sad is they do all this incredible stuff, like they've had to practice for two years, and they don't make any mistakes or drop the ball or anything, and then they only score 9.5. And the audience is like booing the judges, going what does it take, you know. Then they do the hoop and the batons and the rope and the ribbon. Isadora Duncan, an American, invented it, but all the gymnasts are from Europe almost.
September 1
I told Di and Amy to watch the Olympics so that they could see the ribbon tonight but they thought it was stupid. They were making all these jokes about the girls leotards and the judges scoring by how much shaved puss they could see. They were so childish I wanted to kill them. You would think at least Amy, who likes girls, would think it was beautiful. But she just didn't get it. She said it shouldn't even be in the Olympics. Di said it was sexist. I said they were idiots and left. I got really mad about it. I don't know why.
September 2
Me and El went downstairs to his neighbors to watch the hoop. Eliot loves that stuff and its more fun to watch it with people who get it. He said Di and Amy were just jealous. I don't think so, they're just stupid. When we went back upstairs, El wanted me to try some new positions, but I told him I couldn't do the splits like those girls. He said we should go to Bulgaria and get us a three-way with one of those girls. I said OK, buy us a plane ticket, baby!
September 3
I asked Eliot yesterday if he was going to move to Princeton if I went there. He said probably, if he could find a place he could afford. I said we could even live together. He said probably not at first. It would be too dangerous. I would have to live in the dorm or something and just visit him. That would be icky. Living in a dorm. I think I will ask Mom if I can at least have my own appartment. Then El can move in with me. He said what is he going to do when they come to visit, move all his stuff out everytime? He said we would definitely have to have two places, even if his was just a studio.
September 4
I was with Ronald this afternoon. We had sex after school. I can't believe I am doing this stuff. I mean one night I am talking about Eliot moving to Princeton and the next day I am fucking Ronald. It's insane. I don't think I love Ronald, but I think I kind of wanted to have sex with him. Because he's so cute sometimes, and also he makes me feel good. It's not the same as El, but it's still good. We were at his house. His parents both work and so he has the house to himself until about 5:30. Ronald was kind of nervous because I think it was his first time. He was fumbling with the condom and I had to help him. He was really excited. Probably too excited. He got soft but then I let him lick me and he got hard again and then we did it. He didn't seem to have any trouble feeling stuff. He came pretty fast. He was very happy. He's very hooked on me and it's kind of scary.
September 5
During the US Open practically all the commercials are for investment companies or dotcom BS. I have to be super fast on the mute button or hurl every second. They need to have a function on your TV that automatically mutes all commercials and that also blacks out all those stupid old fucks who think they're so important. In this one, this guy goes, "When I was 25 I wanted to make my first million. When I was 40 I wanted to own the company. Now I just want to get around this track 2 tenths of a second faster (in his little pathetic race car)". I'm like, how old will you be when you want to get a fucking life Mister?
September 6
Why do candidates for office always do that thing with their hand when they are speaking, like make a little wimpy fist with their thumb pointing kind of up, and then they stab it at you, like they're making a real strong point but they just look like dorks. They all do it, why don't their handlers tell them they look like gayboy geekoids jacking eachother off or something. I really hate it when they do that. Doesn't anybody else think they look like they're wacking, or is everybody else getting off on it. I want to know. Let's poll the audience. Creeper says the audience wants one of my M&Ms (which are not plain anymore: oh no they are milk chocolate, nobody is plain, that's not PC, the little M&Ms might get their little feelings hurt, right Creeper, and the brown M&M's~should we be calling them brown, are they stigmatized, is their M&Mness compromised, might they be weeping as they are eaten by me, thinking maybe they are not as tasty as the others, not as hearty, not as filling, somehow lacking in significance because they do not have an exciting color, like red which everyone knows makes you horny and the green ones which mean you are pregnant and the yellow ones which you only give to people you hate, all so meaningful and potent, but what does brown mean. Nothing. How sad really. How unfair).
September 7
The PSAT is in October and I'm taking the SAT right after. Then if I bomb I can take it again before Christmas.
September 10
Leonardo Fazio said Britney Spears only wears a belly shirt to keep people from looking at her face. I thought it was funny at first. Then I started thinking. Nope, it is really funny.
September 11
I've been thinking about flagging the SAT on purpose, like I should have done with the stupid IQ thing. Why do I even care if I go to some preppy college that costs my parents about a million dollars. Who cares. I could study English anywhere. Just get a library pass. If I apply to Princeton I have to do this interview with this lady who went there who knows Mr. Popados. I could make her hate me and Mom would never even know.
September 13
If I could vote I'd vote for Ralph Nader. He's the only one who cares about turtles.
Spetember 14
I have senioritis and Im not even 16. That's cool. I wonder if I scored 1600 if I could get in anywhere even if I flunked all my classes. I wonder if me and EL could move onto an Indian reservation and he could paint and I could write. We would probably starve, unless El learned how to hunt buffalos or something. I wonder if Asian parents have some special drug from China or whatever that makes their kids concentrate. I can't concentrate for shit.
September 17
I'm all worried now that El is going to find out about Ronald and beat him up. I don't think he would but he would be really mad. More mad at me. I have to be very careful. I think after Christmas I really have to make a decision. I can't keep stringing Ronald along just because I need him to make me feel like I'm pretty. Happy Anniversary Kitty!
September 18
Amy's had this new girlfriend from West Callaghan (HS) who she met at the Gap who is a lot prettier than Kelli was. I was even kind of jealous I think, until I heard what happened with Di and her, and then I forgot all about that. Now my two best friends won't even talk to eachother, because Amy says Di stole her girlfriend even though she doesn't like girls and she knew Amy liked her. Di says Frankie (the girl) and her only did it a couple of times for fun, it wasn't like a big deal, or like they are a couple, or like Frankie and Amy can't still do stuff. I think Amy has a point, although I can't really take sides. I told Amy I agreed with her, but I did not tell Di that. I'm not getting in the middle of it. But I don't think Di should have started talking sex to Frankie when her best friend is her girlfirend. Di doesn't need Frankie, Di can have anyone and she's already got Brent, still, and probably about twenty other guys who Brent doesn't even know. Di wants everybody. But Amy only had Frankie, and she was so happy and now it's all bad. If Frankie is just going to go off and do it with somebody else, Amy can't stop her, and she was going to lose her anyway. But it shouldn't have been Di. That's what I think.
September 19
I don't think Amy is ever going to talk to Di again. Di pretends not to care but I know she cares a lot. I think she feels really bad, she just can't say it.
September 20
I talked to Frankie today, you know trying to make everything cool. But Frankie is not worth it, I found out. It is no great loss for Amy. I can't tell Amy that, but that's it. Frankie is like this lesbo slutpuppy. She doesn't care about Amy's feelings at all. She was like coming on to me while I'm trying to talk about Amy. It was kind of gross. I mean it's one thing when more than two girls plan a slumber party, and everyone agrees to share, and they're all friends, like me and Amy and Di. But Frankie will do it with anyone who is cute, even if they are mean. Especially if they are mean, I think. I don't like her. She smokes like a real bitch, like she's on TV all the time. Even if she is really beautiful, it's not worth it. She was using Amy, what for I don't know.
September 21
I decided to take the SAT before the PSAT. Mom and Dad said if I waited until after it might be too late. I mean if I bombed the PSAT, which you can't take again, and then bombed the SAT, I might not have time to take it again before the deadline for admissions. Mom said they would pay for me to take the SAT twice, but if I wanted to take it more than that I could but I would have to pay for it. So I take the SAT on October 7. Then the PSAT October 17. Then I can take the SAT again in November if I need to. I didn't study too much this summer but now that school has started and the tests are practically here I am studying a lot. My best practice scores are still 62 and 72. For the SAT about the same except my verbal is lower. I keep fucking up that writing part, the new part that was supposed to help girls because girls are better at reading comp. Not me, I guess. I'm a freak.
September 25
I applied to Princeton and Amherst and Williams and Berkeley. That's all. It costs a lot just to apply. I have to do an interview for Princeton.
September 28
El is working on a new painting of me. It doesn't look too much like me, but he says don't worry, it's not important to get a likeness, just the mood, you know. None of his stuff looks too much like me. I mean it kind of resembles me. It looks more like me than somebody else. But it's more dreamy. Like that guy Munch. I can't sit for him very long because I have so much school stuff to do all the time. Sometimes he paints me while I am studying for the PSAT. He says he's going to title it Nude National Merit Scholar. That should sell well at the PTA.
I've gotten better with my rhythm stuff. I think I can tell when I am ovulating. I can just feel it, without even looking at the charts. My periods are still not even at all, El says because I am so skinny from cross country. The only time I get confused is if I skip completely. Then I get lost on my charts and I start worrying and I can't really feel my body anymore, because I am too nervous. You know, uptight and stuff. Then we have to stop for about two weeks which is horrible, especially for El because he gets all grumpy. When he gets too grumpy I tell him he can always use a condom. Then he just says he wishes they would invent a new birth control. Once or twice he has used a condom but that makes him even grumpier. I may go on the pill someday, but not until I am older. Like at least 20. The doses keep going down, maybe by then the dose will be really low and it won't be so bad.
October 4
I don't think I am ready for the PSAT. I am starting to get nervous. I would really like to get the $2000 scholarship, so my parents don't have to pay for everything. I know Dad is pretty rich, but still I want to feel like I don't owe him so much. Not many people get the scholarships, even though they aren't much. You have to score in the top .5% or something. My verbal is still too low. I scored only 56 on a practice test this week. That is not enough. El is helping me study this last week, but I don't know. I hope the SAT helps me on the PSAT at least.
October 6
SAT tomorrow. My stomach hurts.
October 7
I didn't do too bad on the SAT, Kitty. It wasn't that hard. I didn't ace it, but I'm happy, I think. I have to do better on the PSAT, though. 640/730.
October 8
El says I probably need at least 1400 to get into Princeton, so I might take the SAT again in November. I don't know. He says maybe they will notice that I am 15. If I score higher on the PSAT I can use that instead, maybe. Whatever. I am so sick of thinking about it my head is about to explode.
October 11
Me and Ronald only have sex about once a week. He doesn't complain about it. Eliot gets grumpy if we go three days without, especially if its not because of BC. I kind of like that about El really though because it just means he likes me and he misses me. Some girls would see it as he is just horny for anybody, but I am his only anybody, so it must mean he wants me, right. I think so.
October 17
I rocked on the PSAT. After that SAT it felt so easy. I had time to like go back and correct things, especially on the math. That really helped me. I changed two answers from wrong to right on the math I think. If I could have figured out that writing part better I would have scored super high. Almost all the mistakes I made in verbal were in that stupid section. 68/77. I only missed one in math, and I still think I was right. Sometimes they have wrong answers, so maybe I can challenge them on it or something.
October 18
I figured out I was wrong on that math question. I feel so stupid. It's just like basic algebra.
October 19
Beth Bolin scored 75/71 but she is almost a year older. I am really young, even for a junior. It really helps to score higher on verbal. Not one guy scored above 70 on verbal at Windwood. I think most smart girls (not me) really have an advantage on the PSAT. I'm surprised the guys don't complain, like sue or something. People sue for everything else. If the guys would sue it would help me, since I am like testosterone girl or whatever. I mean why do they double the verbal in the PSAT but not the SAT. It's weird. More shit done because it's done, you know. Creeper wants some PB&J. Mostly just J. I'm not going to take the SAT again, I decided. I can't take anymore of this testing crapola. If 213 doesn't get me in to Princeton or Amherst, fuck em, I'll just go to MSU or just run away with El to Belize.
October 28
We went to one of those UIL math contests in Joliet. It was like a district test but it doesn't count for anything toward district. It is just for practice. They still give ribbons but is is just practice. I haven't studied calculus at all because I was studying for the PSAT, so I didn't know anything. I looked at the test and just gave up it was so impossible. I answered C on everything. I got fourth place which was the highest on our team, but I told everybody I just answered C and they were so mad. Mr. Holmes said probability was math, too, and they should give me credit for knowing my odds. A win is a win.
December 3
I am finally 16. Lots of presents but the best is from El. He bought me this sun dress that is so pretty. He says I look just like Jan Brady in it. He said all girls with long blond hair should wear sundresses all the time. And just sandals you know. And I'm like, El, it's December, duh. But I think it is nice because it makes me look forward to the summer, and it means El will still be there.
December 6
Me and Ronald are having major problems, but I don't think I want to go into it. I just want to pet Mister. He has it in for Badzu tonight, but I think Badzu is going to win. Batz Maru always wins because Mister has a ticklish spot on his tummy. Chick-A!
December 9
Finals next week~2345678 (SORRY I MEANT @#$%^&*, FORGOT TO HIT CAPS LOCK).
December 11
I don't know which I hate more, school or Christmas. We have to go to the Cyborg's this year, so that we can practice sucking eachother's brains and floating in embalming fluid. That doesn't make any sense but I don't care.
December 13
I almost wish I could make myself flag Physics or something so I wouldn't have to go to college or anything. Why can't I? Why can't I just fail? Who the fuck am I trying to impress? Nobody.
December 14
I can't stand another Christmas with my family. I'll go bonkers, I swear. I'll actually kill someone, like injure someone with the stuffing. I want to just stay with El so bad, so we can stay under the covers for about two weeks and maybe rent a TV so we could watch Rudolph and the Abominable Snowman and Hermie the elf dentist and Clarisse who sings "there's always tomorrow" and the island of misfit toys. El says he used to hide under the bed until the Abominable goes over the cliff with Yukon Cornelius, then he would come out but he would cry for the rest of the show because Yukon Cornelius was dead.
December 17
Di thinks she flunked her Algebra final. She didn't even come to me for help. I mean I practically got her through Alg. 1. Some people don't have to try too hard to flag their way out of college. I think Di wants to go though, because the parties are better. I'm like Di, why don't you just go to the parties and forget the rest of it. No frat party is going to keep her out. And she's like, good idea. But then she goes, how am I going to pay for clothes and stuff from like 18 to 25 or whenever I get married? I'm like, get a job? And she's like, screw that, I've gotta get in somewhere. I think Amy is going to Bryn Mawr.
December 20
Terry Lansing is such a dork. He took the SAT like five times already, even though he's a junior, and he scored like 190 on the PSAT. But if he doesn't beat me on the SAT, Ronald says, he's going to kill himself or something. Terry's gotten into chatrooms and stuff and he's met all these supergeekoids on the web and he's in love with some Mensababe from ALaska or something who's supposed to be 19 but she sounds like she's more like 40. (I wonder if a female member of MENSA is now a member of WOMYNSA?). Ronald says Terry tells everyone on the web he has an IQ of 147. I asked Ronald what he scored on that IQ thing (I shouldn't have but I'm such a superior bitch). He said 128. That's higher than Terry Lansing. Ronald spends all his free time on the Lord of the Fucking Rings website. I should talk, watching Friends three times a day. We're all fucking pathetic.
December 27
Just back from the edge of the black hole. I still feel stunned, like a fish near a depth charge, like a fish out of water, like a fish in the headlights, like a fish to the head, like a good swift fish in the nuts, like a sharp fish in the eye. There, I'm back.
December 29
Thank god for new year's, the one night I can spend at Eliot's, even though Ronald will be so mad. Maybe I can tell Ronald I have to go out of town again with my parents. I need a big lie here. Time to go think. Aren't I bad bad bad, Creeper says meow which catexperts will tell you means yes.
December 30
I think the most important thing you learn as you get older is how to lie convincingly. I really do. It is the real sign of maturity. Kids can lie pretty well when they're really young. I mean they don't give a crap, they'll say anything. If you believe it, that's your thing. But then they are taught not to. Like half your whole education is not lying, because of God or the principal or dear old Dad or the President. But then you figure out it is just a power thing. Old people teach young people not to lie so that old people get all the stuff, how? by lying. But then you learn to lie so that you can get stuff like everybody else, and so that people will like you. Nobody likes the truth. Especially old liars. And the older you get the more you lie, until it's like all the same. Lies, truth, what does it matter. You're just a pathetic old husk of a human, sucking your little life from a few electronic lifelines, and vacuuming up your pills, and taking little divots in the ground with your expensive clubs that you ordered electronically and had electronically made by cyborg machines and electronically fitted to your deformed old blobby body so that you could never break a hundred but who cares, have another gin and tonic and say you shot 97, everyone will be so impressed they will fall out of their freaking golfcart and have to be electronically refitted to their clubs.
January 1
I came home for a little while this morning after spending the whole night with El, so that Mom wouldn't think I was dead or passed out drunk on the side of the road or something. Then I went back to El's. I have to spend tonight here and it sucks so bad. I'm going to go insane. It's like they make you grow up really fast but then they won't let you be grown up. It's like you know more about life than a 30 year old knew fifty years ago, you're a fucking adult by the time you're twelve, practically, all the shit you've seen. But then you can't even get a little affection, the only thing you even need. You get the downside but no upside. The upside is like offlimits. You can see all the murders and rapes and lying losers on TV and the porn everywhere and drugpushers the same. They have rights, man. Rights to sell you some crap you don't want. But if you want a boyfriend, no way young lady, that's too dangerous. We don't want to encourage that behavior. We don't want to encourage you to sleep with someone you like, no, we want you to starve yourself and cut yourself and watch Ally Mcbeal waste away and read the Bible and Dianetics and the Celestine Prophecy and Reviving Ophelia and watch Girlfight and Zena and the Buddha says you can just say no and yogis don't need food and the Mahareshi agrees with Jesus, needs are bad.
January 4
I forgot to tell what I got for Christmas. It's bad having your birthday so close to Christmas, but I don't realy care. I don't need anything anyway. I've got too much shit as it is. I used to really care, when I was little, but not anymore. El got me these sandals, you know from Italy, that are like handmade and so pretty. They aren't very comfortable, because they don't have any support, but they really are beautiful. I wish El could take me to some beach for the whole summer, like in Greece. Then we could just walk on the sand and swim naked and sleep together all the time. I think I will try to dream about that.
January 5
I forgot to tell yesterday what I got for El. I got him a ceramic jug thing to keep his brushes in, on his paint cart, whatever that thing is. I got it at this artist's market where they sold only stuff they made themselves. It was blue with silver swirls. I think he really liked it. He needed one because all he had was an old glass jar, like a spagetti sauce jar. I got Ronald a ceramic frog, but I don't think he liked it. He doesn't like frogs as much as I do. If he got me a frog I would like it.
January 15
I am learning to drive even though I don't have a car. I will have to take the test in Dad's car, which is a Lexus. It is hard to parallel park because it is so big. Big wah, right, having to drive a Lexus. I hate it, though. Every little rich girl complains about being rich, so I will skip it. This is just for me and I know how I feel.
January 16
Simulator is so weird. They have this guy teaching it who is like a hundred. I mean he says, whenever we go into a tunnel or it gets dark, "burn your headlamps." And I'm like shit, I'm out of matches. Can I like borrow a torch from somebody. Di is in simulator with me and everytime the lights go off she grabs my boobs and we start laughing and then the old guy gets all testy and turns on the lights. But he never can figure out who is doing it, because he's practically deaf.
January 21
Mom won't even drive with me. I'm glad because she makes me so nervous all the time. She's always screaming Look Out when nothing is even happening and she keeps grabbing my arm, like that's real safe. Dad is better. You could drive off a cliff and he wouldn't care, as long as he got to read all the indicator lights flashing. I'm not even sure he realizes it's real. It's just another TV show. Oh Boy, a TV show with a rearview mirror. Joy oh Joy. I turned left on red and he didn't even notice. People were honking at me and he was like messing with the heater. He finds the defroster terribly fascinating. I don't even know what half the controls are for in that car. He keeps explaining things, cruise and seat tilt and oil pressure and wiper interruptus. But I try to keep things simple for now. Stop. Go. Steer. Honk. Radio.
February 7
I've been down at the police station all day with Mom. Eliot got arrested this morning. I am so in shock I can hardly write. It is like 3 in the mrning and I tried to sleep but I couldn't. I didn't think I could write about it. but I guess I need to. They wouldn't let me see El or talk to him. They asked all these questions and I had to remember what El said last summer about our story, but I couldn't remember it all. When they first started asking questions, I said don't I have to have a lawyer present or something. They said I was not charged with anything, so I didn't need an attorney. I just needed to answer questions. They said I was the victim. I said I was not. They had this cop lady, or this lady who was some kind of counselor or pyschologist or something who kept trying to trick me. She kept trying to convince me that because of my age I didn't know what was good for me and that I should trust them, which is so much BS, but I couldn't say that. Whenever the lady started to confuse me, I would just be quiet until I figured out something to say that was what I wanted to say instead of what they wanted to hear. They got mad at me because I think they thought I was going to be stupid and easy to trick. Mom let them go through all my stuff, even here in my room, but they couldn't get to my journal even though they checked my computer, because I have it under about ten passwords that I don't have written down anywhere. It was mostly to keep Mom from reading it, but now I'm glad I did it, because if they could get to this, El would be definitely cooked. They wanted me to give them the passwords but I said I never would no matter what they did, it was my diary and it was private no matter what. They could take it to the Supreme Court I said. Mom and the counselor lady spent about two hours trying to break me, but they didn't. I don't care what happens now, Mom and Dad can turn me out into the streets, the cops can throw me in jail, I don't care, I will never tell them anything.
They even talked to Di and Amy. They are going to question them more, so I can't talk to them tomorrow. They don't know anything. They will only back up my story about Ronald, which I am going to tell the cops. I am going to tell them he is my only boyfriend. Then they will question him and he will back me up too. I have to go to the dictor (Freudian typo for doctor, I mean-- even now I can laugh, somehow) first thing tomorrow morning so they can see if any trace of El is still in me.
The only thing I told them today is what El told me to say, that we never had sex, that I liked him so I went over there sometimes but he always said to leave. They asked if I ever modelled for him and I said no. They said did I ever get nude. I said no. El said he hid the pictures of me and I hope he did a good job. He sold that big painting and the other stuff doesn't look exactly like me. I don't think they could prove anything from it but I am really scared for him.
They didn't let me go until like 9 and I needed to make two phonecalls but I think they made Mom promise not to let me out of her sight. They are afraid I will call Amy or DI, I think, and coach them on what to say. But I did not want to call them. I asked Mom if we could stop and get something to eat because I was starving and we didn't have anything at home, plus it was too late to cook. We went to McD's and I said I had to go to the bathroom. Mom got out of the drive-thru and parked just so she could see me go into the bathroom. I'm surprised she didn't follow me in there. I couldn't use my cell because they took it, and I think they can trace those somehow anyway but I knew they had a payphone by the bathrooms at that McD's. So I called up Jeffrey Ainsworth first and I left a message on his machine that I would pay him 50 bucks for four bottles of douche, any brand, that he could get from Eckerd or anywhere. But that he had to deliver them to my side window by midnight and tap lightly, if he got caught, no dough. Then I called Ronald and told him that I had to give him a treat tonight, I missed him so bad, to come up to my side window after midnight but to be careful, my parents were home. I thought he would because he is pretty brave, he likes to do daring stuff. I just hoped he would get the message before he went to sleep. Just as I was hanging up with Ronald's machine, Mom walks up and screams who were you talking to. I told her David Koresh. I don't think she even knows who he is. She threatened me with all the stuff she had already threatened me with. I told her to save her breath, I didn't want any favors from her. She tried to hit me, but I grabbed her hands. She was all red. She was so mad I thought she was going to crash the car. I almost wish she had. She's the one who told the cops about Eliot. She was spying on us and finally saw me go into Eliots place and called the police.
She left my bedroom door open and kept walking by every few minutes to be sure I wasn't talking on the phone or Emailing somebody. But I pretended to be asleep in the dark for about two hours and I think she finally fell asleep in front of the TV. Dad went to bed about 10:30 as usual. I could have killed and cannibalized the entire senior class and Dad would go to sleep at 10:30. Jeffrey knocked on the window at 11:45 and made the drop. I immediately used all four bottles even though I have never douched in my life. I was completely raw and stinking from that shit. It has alcohol in it or something, I didn't even look. It probably won't work but I had to try it. I hid the empty bottles under my mattress. Then Ronald showed up about 1:30. He said his parents didn't go to sleep until 12:30. I checked on Mom, who had drunk a bunch of gin and tonic and was totally out. So I closed my door and me and Ronald got on the other side of the bed, on the floor, and I put pillows in the bed under the covers, to make it look like me, in case she got up anyway and checked. It was just after my period today, like day three, so I told Ronald not to use a condom. He was totally psyched. It was the first time we did it without a condom. I was really raw from all that douche, so I used the lubricant we use for the condom, or that we bought to use with the condoms but never really used much before. I told Ronald I needed it because it was just after my period and he didn't know the difference. It still hurt, but he came fast. I told him not to leave. After about twenty minutes I took him in my mouth to get him hard again. I told him I needed some more and he was fine with that. It took him a little bit longer but not too much. He left at about 2:30. I think I can sleep now. Hopefully all Ronald's come will confuse them tomorrow.
February 9
The first thing they did yesterday was take a sample from my yoni and make me pee in a glass. Mom gave them permission to do that. I have no rights because I am a minor. I guess they could stick hot dogs up my ass if Mom said it was OK. They said if I resisted they could restrain me. I said I thought I was not the one being charged with a crime, why was I being treated like a criminal. They said I was not a criminal, but that I didn't know what was best for me. I said, Oh but you do. And the doctor said yes. I hate that fucker. I think I would really kill him if I could and not feel bad about it. I think I was crying. He came back in and asked me if I had had sex recently. I said I was a virgin. He said they knew I was not a virgin so don't be funny. He asked if I had sex last night. I said I was a virgin, except for my sextoys. He said he would just let the police talk to me. I think when a doctor does something to you, you know puts something in you down there without your permission, that is like rape. It was forced on me, not only by the doctor but by my Mom who gave them permission even though I said no. I think when people put things inside you there that you don't want, that is rape, I don't care.
The cops said they knew I had sex recently, they were just waiting for a DNA test. I said, so. Then they said that Eliot had confessed. But I didn't believe it. They had tried to trick me about a hundred times so I thought everything is a trick. So I didn't change my story. I did tell them about Ronald, to give them some new information to work on, so they wouldn't think I was hiding stuff. Everything else I kept the same. They asked me the same stuff over and over. I was at the police station for about six hours. Finally I pretended to get hysterical and have a fit. I had been crying really, and so it was easy to fake going crazy. They took me to a hospital and gave me a lot of food and drinks and let me sleep. When I woke up I pretended to be a mute. The counselor lady was there and she tried to talk to me but I didn't say a thing or look at her for two hours. They made me stay overnight and tried the same thing the next day but I still wouldn't talk to anyone. They wanted to give me drugs I think, but Dad was there and he wouldn't let them. I heard him and Mom arguing in the hall about it. Finally they quit monitoring me and let me go home.
February 10
The counselor lady came to our house today and told me that Ronald admitted we had sex. I said so, did you arrest him, too. She said no, he was a minor. But he was in trouble with his parents. I said thanks for ruining my life. She went on and on and asked me all the same questions again, but I told her to go fuck herself. I told her to arrest me or get the fuck out, I had nothing to say. She said my parents were thinking of putting me in a special school, not because of Eliot but because of the way I had acted with the police and with her. And I said whatever. I told her she was so interested in other people's sex because no one would fuck her, I told her to fuck off and go to chippendales and buy a fucking boyfriend.
March 18
Mom took away my laptop and my phone in my room and took me out of school and threatened to put me in a special school for violent girls instead of letting me go to college even though I got into Princeton and about ten other places. It was really bad for about three weeks, I guess while the investigation was going on and while El was in jail. I never got to talk to Ronald or Amy or Di, it was just me and Creeper and Mr. Man and Roy for three weeks. I didn't even have a TV. I couldn't go to the library, I couldn't run, I couldn't do anything. Mom finally let me get some sun after about five days, because the doctor said that maybe they were making things worse, and Dad said they couldn't just lock me in a closet, even though I think Mom would have if she could. I think she would have tied me down and beat me with golferclubs if she could. I was thinking of running away, but I thought that if I did I wouldn't hear what happened to Eliot and I would never see him again. Finally Dad told me that Eliot moved away and I would never see him again. The police told him never to contact me or he would be put in jail. Dad wouldn't tell me anything else. I think that means he must not have ever confessed. I think that means they couldn't prove anything so they had to let him go. I think that means that all that stuff I did maybe worked so it was worth it. They can't keep me and El apart.
March 19
I'm glad to have my laptop back. And you Kitty. I feel like a different person. Like I just got back from Vietnam or something. I know that is stupid, this is nothing compared to that, but I mean I just feel like I'm made out of steel now, like I will get through the next five months somehow, without ever being me or saying a joke or laughing. I don't even feel like writing about stuff much but I have to so I will remember the important things later. Once El was gone I got to go back to school and Mom was not quite so mean anymore, and they stopped talking about putting me in a special school and all that shit. Things are kind of back to normal except everybody at school knows and I feel really strange, like they are looking at me and talking about me. I can't talk to Ronald because his parents won't let him, Terry Lansing told me. He feels really bad, but he got in super bad trouble I heard, almost as bad as me and I feel like it is my fault so I don't really hold it against him for not talking to me. Amy talks to me a little but I think she was scared by all the police stuff, so it is strange. The only one who is still my friend is Di. But I can't talk to Di and Amy together because they still hate eachother. Or Amy hates Di anyway. But Di thought all the police stuff was cool and she wants to talk about it all the time, but I don't want to. She said Brent is about to turn eighteen, could they get in trouble, and I was like I don't know. I can't really think about anything except getting through this semester and then the summer and then finding El.
March 20
Nothing today
April 14
The only thing that has gotten better this year is cross country. All I do is run.
April 19
I ran 50 miles this week. That is my most ever. On Saturday I ran fifteen miles. I think I could do a marathon.
May 20
I didn't go to the prom. I didn't feel like it. Terry Lansing asked me and also Charlie Thompson. I think most of the other guys are scared of me.
May 21
I got first in district in cross country.
June 13
I got an Email from Eliot today. It was very short and mysterious. He didn't say it was him. He said this is a note on green paper. What are your favorite things? I had to prove it was me answering and not the cops who might still have my laptop as far as El knew. I told him Ghirardelli and baby marshmallows and other treats. He wrote back that he was sorry for all I had to go though and that if I just wanted to put it all behind me he would understand. All I replied was where are you? He is in Montreal. I told him I was going to Williams instead of Princeton because I thought he would go to Canada and I wanted to be as far north as possible. I told him I was getting a car in August and I could drive up and see him after I got to school. I told him I could even leave school, like forget about it altogether. He said first that a minor couldn't drive across a national border by herself, but that we could maybe meet somewhere in upstate New York. Then he said for me not to leave school right away because if I ran away to him in Canada he would get in trouble all over again. I had to turn 18 first and then everything was alright. I had to turn 18 and then we would talk about school. By then I would be a soph and I would know more how I felt about college. I told him I didn't give a fuck about college and I just wanted to get away from everybody and everything. I said we should go to France or somewhere where they don't care about that stuff. He said I could never get there with him, he would be arrested for kidnapping and all kinds of things. I said I could get my parents to send me next summer by myself maybe and we could meet there. He said maybe, but that we couldn't stay or he would get extradicted and put in jail forever. I just had to turn 18 before we did anything final.
June 29
I ran 26 miles today! I am so tired I think I will sleep for a week. I ran really slow the second half. The first half took about an hour and a half, the second half took about two and a half hours. I never walked though. I think that would be cheating. You couldn't really say you ran a marathon if you walked some of it. Anyone can walk 26 miles. I kept thinking of Eliot practically the whole time, about those paintings he did of me and his room with the smelly pillows and the orange light on the rug on the floor and watching Rudolph with him and the Island of Misfit Toys.
June 30
My legs. Oi! I am spending the day in bed. It hurts even to sit down to pee. I don't think I'm ever getting up again, because then I would have to use muscles in my legs, which are now spaghetti.
I talk to El almost everyday on my computer. I have to be really careful, because if Mom got into my computer and saw anything, like Emails from Montreal it would be bad. Fortunately Mom doesn't know bubkis about computers, she probably can't even turn it on without asking Dad. And he doesn't care. Unless I have a recipe to cure a chronic slice or a coupon for a new titanium golferclub, he's not going to try to break my codes. I don't make papercopies of anything, and I even put another password on my computer. I am like super high security, top secret. I erase everything immediately and never save anything and I swallow my whole computer everynight.
July 1
I am not playing tennis this summer at all. I just can't stand it. I just run. Is July 1 midsummer or is it June 23. Or July 15. I will look it up.
July 3
Di says I am lucky to graduate early but I think she is really looking forward to being a senior. She is at least popular and a flag. Her and Brent have this open relationship where they let eachother fool around as long as they tell and are careful about stuff. I think that is weird, but Di likes it because now she can have a boyfriend and still fuck the whole senior class. I think most people use condoms, so that is good, I guess, but they just have lots of bad sex instead of good sex with someone they like. That's what I think, but maybe they think they have great sex, I don't know. Maybe they do. I wouldn't like it, that's all I know. I had trouble with two boyfriends, I mean getting confused, and the sex with Ronald was not even that great although it was alright~ but what would I do with lots of guys. I would go crazy. I guess I am a little bit more romantic than I said before.
August 12
Dad is going to drive up to Mass with me next week and fly back. I am glad Mom is not coming. I get my car in a few days but Dad will not tell me what it is. He is all excited about surprising me so it might be pretty good. He knows I want a bug, but parents never get you what you want. He'll probably get me like a new Cadillac and expect me to totally kill myself. I forgot to tell that I got the National Merit thing and some other scholarships, so my parents were happy about that, especially Dad who judges everything by money. It's still not that much, but I paid for about half my first semester.
August 15
I got my new car today. It is not what I wanted but it is OK. At least it is not a BMW or something. It is a Honda Prelude. It is kind of blue-green. Di thinks it is cool, because it is pretty fast and it looks fast and it has a lot of stuff, like stereo stuff, CD changer and all that. I am kind of embarassed because it's all shiny and obviously new, but Di is like get over it. And I am trying to. Trying to be really nice to my Dad because it is a nice thing for him to do, and he is all excited for once. Still it's kind of weird. I don't know what to do. I made Dad promise to drive me to Mass. He said I could if I wanted, like most of the way or whatever, but I don't want to. Besides, I think he really wants to, so he can talk about all the functions all the way up there, like talk about the cruise control and the rear window defroster and the hampster refurbisher.
August 21
I am at Williams now. I have been busy unpacking and all that, so I haven't had time to write anything. Besides, this was a sex journal, remember, and I haven't had any for so long, so there shouldn't really be any writing here, if I am being precise. But whatever. I spent about three hours yesterday trading IM's with El. I am so lonely it is hard not to just talk to him all day, but the computer is a bad thing, I think, and besides it hurts my eyes after a while. I always feel kind of sick after. And I don't think it is just heart sickness.
August 22
My roomate is kind of weird. She is this funny looking girl who I think may be a lesbian. She keeps looking at me. I can't really talk to her, though. She is like super scientific. I mean I am pretty dorky, too, like that, or I thought I was. I mean I think I am kind of strange for a girl, being so into math and stuff, or at least pretty good at it. But she is not like me at all. She is like a geeky guy, except with big boobs. I think she thinks I am like some kind of hippy, or rap chick, because of the way I talk, which is not rap at all, but I don't really try to talk like a smart person, just a regular person, I guess. Anyway, I don't know if she likes me or not. I don't think I like her. She makes me feel kind of creepy. Her stuff is really creepy, too. Like totally ugly and drab and scary. Her clothes are the weirdest. I don't even want to talk about it. She spends all her time on the computer, but doing science stuff, I think. She saw me on my computer yesterday, but I think she knows I was IMing with a guy, and she doesn't like that. Not that she knows the real situation. Just that she probably hates guys. I haven't really met anybody else yet. Classes don't start until Tuesday.
September 2
We had a labor day party thing today, but I didn't really meet anybody interesting. One guy was OK. Like this junior who was slumming with the frosh, crashing our party, but he was talking to about five girls all the time. I don't think he likes Jan Brady. Besides, I can't really talk to a guy anymore, after the thing with El and the police. I think I am still in shock from this year, and I only want to talk to El. I'm a bomb at parties.
September 5
I think El may come down for fall break, in October. It's cool, they have fall break up here in Mass just like spring break. He says he wants to see the Clark Art Institute again. He says nobody will be here during the week, except the geekiest geeks whose parents don't even want them to come home, and they will just stay in the dorms all week. Still he said we should be careful. Like just see the art and then go drive to another town to eat and get a hotel. Maybe Albany he said. I told him I have a good car, we could go to Niagara Falls. He said maybe later.
September 12
El drove down this weekend and surprised me. He just like showed up at the dorm, while I was eating. He said he walked right in, nobody even asked him anything. I said how did you know what building. He said, you said in you last IM-- I knew where to look basically, he said. It's a small campus and I know what you look like. I couldn't believe it. It was Friday night and I didn't have anything to do of course. I was thinking of going to this party where maybe ten people would be, you know doing nothing, smoking, music, but El took me to Benninton (in my car) to this restaurant he knows, I already ate but I ate dessert and he ate a burger and stuff. Then we went to a hotel. I was going to put it on my Visa but El said no way, the bill goes to my parents and they would ask questions. So he paid, but I didn't want to stay in Motel6 or anything so we went to this bed and breakfast that was pretty expensive. I gave El some cash but I didn't have enough. Anyway he didn't care about all that, he said he missed me so much he couldn't wait til October. He just got in the car and started driving. He couldn't not do it. I said I was glad. We were both so happy I though I was going to cry. I thought he was going to ask me to marry him for a second. Thank god he didn't. I probably would have said yes and then it would be even worse, because we can't get married until I am at least eighteen. We stayed in that bed and breakfast the whole weekend. I mean the maids couldn't even get in. We never got out of bed except to eat. The sign was on the door the whole time. We didn't care. We didn't want clean sheets anyway. We wanted dirty sheets and pillows that smelled like us.
September 14
My classes are going like shit. I can't concentrate. I am always thinking of El. The classes are bullshit anyway, we're just covering stuff I already read and already hate. Enough Toni Fucking Morrison already. And Robert Lowell, who cares. Anne one-good-poem-in-her-life Sexton. Ginsberg? a real poet, get real. And then all this Queer Marxist Afro-Feminist slant on everything, who cares. Write good or fuck off. Slams? That ain't poetry, girl. That's just spreadin' it for Cool Daddy. People don't even know what poetry is anymore. It's just typing. Just word processing, saying whatever and then breaking it up into lines for no reason. They made us get a copy of Poetry, the little mag, so we would know what was going on, like right now. It's all complete shit. Who takes the time to read that crap? It's just everyday boring stuff. Some lady talking about throwing away diapers, slice of life stuff, you know, so offhand/poignant it makes you want to hurl. Ms. tightass Turner, who wants so much to be cool but isn't, thinks that any poet who tries to do anything, like rhyme or even pay the slightest attention to the meter or something crazy like that, is making a "homage to the past." No-o-oo, maybe I'm just trying to write something that doesn't leak right out of your ear like jello, like the news or a fucking commercial. And if I'm ever going to learn to be a disciplined writer who doesn't show it, I have to be a disciplined writer now even though maybe it does show. Like maybe I'm too obvious. But, I mean Keats was obvious. And Shakespeare, obvious obvious. Trying too hard. But she says like, that was then this is now. And I'm like yah, and then it was good and now it sucks. So bite me. And this is supposed to be a good program.
September 17
My journal anniversary! How many years? THree? I got in another fight with Turner. I saw her poetry on the web. Like she knows anything. Complete dribble drabble. That's not what we fought about. She had us read from the Paris Review. I told her there wasn't one thing worth reading in there. It was totally depressing. She told us all about the editor, some bozo named Robert Howard who wears a monocle and reads so beautifully, supposedly. Yah, well, I hope so, because he can't write for shit. Or pick poems for his journal. His poetry was in the anthology, and if that's his best stuff, I don't know what to say. It doesn't exactly make me want to be a writer now. Or to take classes from these people. It is the total opposite of inspiring. They think they don't have any rules, like they are so fucking progressive. But they have one big rule, which is if it is traditional at all, you can't do it anymore. If it has any similarity to anything written before 1950, you can't do it. I'd say that's pretty uptight. Especially since that rule pretty much outlaws poetry, as their little journals prove. Turner says I'm just 16, I have too high an opinion of my own opinion. And I'm like what about your precious Rimbaud? Good thing you didn't keep him from his opinion until he was an old sourpuss. And she's like, oh, comparing yourself with Rimbaud now, are you, with geniuses. And I'm like, you wouldn't know the difference.
I have a bad attitude, but I don't care.
September 19
I'm still running a lot. They have cross country here, but I just show up when I feel like it. Mostly I just run by myself. They have lots of good trails. But it's more humid than I thought here. I drove up into the mountains, so I could do lots of hills, and so it wouldn't be so muggy maybe. The Berkshires. Small mountains. Big hills. It's super gorgeous here. I think I could live in the Berkshires. I wonder how cold it's going to get this winter. I like snow, but I hope it doesn't snow all winter, like Alaska or something.
September 27
I went into Adams, this town nearby, with some friends to see MassMOCA, or whatever. It sounds like a drink at Starbucks, like a massive chocolate latte or something, but it's this really bogus museum where they charge you to see people's laundry and like the photos they put through the shredder at the CVS. Completely random. You can't tell the difference between the art and the airconditioning vents. Josh goes, that's the beauty of it. And I'm like, remind me to dismiss everything else you say today as utter nonsense from a scramblebrain. This stuff empowers the untalented, so you have to embrace it. That's what it is, really. Only the talented would criticize, and they're snobs. Oi. Sarah told me talented was non-PC. Like as a word. I said, dear Sarah, what did you score on the SAT? She's like, 1510. And I said, and you're going to tell me everybody's equal? You better get rid of these elitist colleges like Williams then, everybody should go to Bigstate U. and study remedial living. I'm like, when are you boneheads going to stop apologizing for being smart and ambitious? Science still allows it. And business, at least the ambitious part. Why are we giving the humanities, like lit and art, away to mediocrity and chaos? Who are we helping in this. I don't see it. But no one would listen to me. They think I have been reading too much Camille Paglia or something. I said, right, Camille Paglia, who finds Madonna fascinating. Nobody can say anything anymore that you aren't dismissed as having some agenda. There's no one for me to talk to. They're all too busy proving themselves to eachother.
September 29
El came down again this weekend. We went to a different B&B in Bennington. I thought they were going to give us a hard time about my age, but when El pulled out the cashola they decided to let it slide, I guess. They looked at us like pornstars the whole time, like we were eating little children, but no one said anything. We signed in with fake names and numbers, so who cares, what are they going to do, kill us, maim us, make us go back to MassMOCA?
We were down at CVS because I had to get some lens solution and they had these little plush dolls from the Rudolph show, like a whole bin of them, small sized and big sized. They had Rudolph and Santa and Hermie the dentist and that funny looking elf and Donner or whoever was the reindeer who was the flying coach and the Abominable and Yukon Cornelius and lots of the toys from the Island of Misfit toys, like the airplane who swims and the train with square wheels and the squirtgun that squirts jelly. They didn't have the charlie in the box, I guess because he is so ugly and talks like a gay hairdresser who smokes too much. But they had the little doll, like rageddy ann, but me and El couldn't figure out what was wrong with her, like why she was a misfit. El said maybe her name was Rageddy Babs, so she was all wrong. I said maybe, but they never said on the show. I couldn't believe they had all that stuff at CVS. That show is like 30 years old. El said maybe it was there just for us, like a blip in the universe, and as soon as we left the store it would all disappear. It was pretty weird. It was on sale, too, the little ones were 99c each. So we bought five of them. And a big Yukon Cornelius which was 12.99.
October 4
I have Rageddy Babs on my desk to remind me I am from the Island of Misfit Toys, and someday Santa will come and take me to a family that wants me, hopefully in a warmer dormroom in a town where it doesn't rain so much.
December 6
I am now on the train to Chicago. I met El in Lake Placid on Friday. He went back to Montreal yesterday and he thought I was driving back to Williamstown. But I drove to Albany instead. I sold my car this morning to some guy who said he couldn't give me much because I didn't have the title, but it's still a lot. Then I bought a ticket for Seattle. I have to change trains in Chicago. I brought some of my stuff with me, like my computer. It was in the trunk but I never told El. I had to pay extra to put it all on the train. They had this big box. Anyway. The rest of my shit I guess Williams can have, or they can throw it out, I don't care. I'm not going back.
December 9
I'm now in the train station in Seattle, trying to figure out what to do. I think Margaret is probably in Vancouver, but I don't know if I can just go across the border. El said I couldn't but maybe he lied, because he didn't want me to go to Montreal and get him arrested again. I mailed a letter to my parents from the train station in Pierre. That should throw them off. My Mom is going to be so mad. Not worried probably, just mad. They probably won't even look for me. Except they think I have the car and Dad is probably worried about it. He's going to shit. Oh well, it's Christmas, there'll be plenty of television for them to watch. I think they're going to let me leave my box here for a little while. I should look around Seattle a little bit, to see if Margaret is here. I can't look in the phonebook. She wouldn't be that stupid. I should go downtown and talk to the runaways, like the sidewalk kids, maybe they can tell me something. If that doesn't work I'll look in the yellow pages for used clothing stores, places like that. What am I going to do with all this cash? I think maybe I should get a checking account, even if I am only here a few days. I can use my bankcard in Vancouver, I bet, or anywhere. As long as I don't lose it. If I'm going to use the Visa one last time it better be now, before Dad gets the letter. He'll cut me off. And even if he didn't I couldn't use it because they could trace it. This is cool, I have to think like a criminal. I better go shopping today. I'll look for Margaret tomorrow.
December 10
I got an email from El last night. He thinks I am still in Williamstown. He asked me when I was going home. I was like, oh, around the 20th. I'm not going to tell him anything for a while. I don't want him chasing me all over the country. He doesn't have much money. Plus I have until like mid January to burn. Then he will want to see me.
No Margaret.
December 14
I have Rageddy Babs on the pillow next to me, watching me type. I pretend she is Creeper sometimes. I miss Creeper. And Mr. Man. And Roy. It is weird staying in a hotel by yourself, without your parents in the next room, or Eliot or anybody. Sometimes I have to turn on the TV just to keep from being scared. At least I can still write to El anytime. I want to call him but I am afraid he will have caller ID. I don't think he would, because he hates technology and machines so much, and plus he never buys anything because he never has any extra money. I think I will try to go to Vancouver for Christmas. I don't think Margaret is here and I am already tired of Seattle. It rains all the time and they don't even have pretty snow like Mass.
December 20
I am in a coffeeshop in Vancouver. I like this city. It is very romantic. I wish Eliot could be here. We could have such a nice time. I just finished IMing with him and I had to be so careful not to tell him I was here. I hope I find Margaret before Christmas, or I will be so lonely. I have never been alone on Christmas, even though I used to wish I could be when we had to go to the disfunctionals. This is better than that, but it still sucks.
I went to this store called Rhonda's that sells used clothing and stuff, and they thought they knew someone who might know Margaret. They gave me an address, but I did not have time to take the bus there before it closed. Tomorrow I will go there.
My hotel is right downtown and is way too expensive, but i will not be there long. Either I will find Margaret or I will have to move into a smaller hotel. If I find Margaret, I guess I will move into a place that i will rent by the month. I don't really know what to do. I was hoping she could help me with all that stuff.
December 21
I found that store that is like a headshop or something. They said Margaret was in Kamloops since October. I had to tell them I was her sister. They weren't going to tell me anything at first. But then I talked to them for a while and I guess they trusted me. I dressed in my hippiest stuff so they wouldn't think I was a narc or whatever. I don't know the fucking lingo. I guess I will go to Kamloops now, although I would rather be here for Christmas.
December 29
I found Margaret today. I didn't hardly recognize her. Her hair is like down to her waist, and all in dark dreds, and she is pierced more and has these tattoos. She is way more cool than me now. I didn't know how to talk to her, because she talks like a stoner and her eyes look different and everything. She looked pretty healthy, though, even though she smelled like smoke and sweat. Now I know what ripe means. But she has her crowd now. She is in with Earth First and all that. She said they had been tree-sitting in Oregon this summer. I can respect that. She had lots of interesting stories. And her friends were pretty nice. The guys were beautiful, although they seemed pretty stupid. Maybe they were just stoned. Hippy guys are always so beautiful, so lean and dark, with their beards and long hair. I could get into that, I think. Except that sometimes it seems just as phony as everything else. I don't know what it is. I think it is because so much of the culture revolves around the drugs, and drugs just aren't that important to me. I smoke some, and I like it, if i am with the right people, but they call it "the herb" and they all have to be different in the same way, with the clothes and the dreds and the lingo. I don't know. It's better than being a fratboy or a Goth. I just don't see why you have to "be" anything.
I told Margaret about El and the police and everything, and the guys were listening and they were all like "heavy, man." They kind of let me into their group when they found out I ran away too, and sold the car and all that. Margaret said I could stay with them, but i came back here to the hotel to think.
January 2
I have been hanging with Margaret and her group. We stayed up all last night celebrating the new year. My clothes smell like a hundred tons of doobage. And my hair, even after washing it. The dancing was fun for a while. But I don't think I can keep up with them. I think they must take speed, too. Or some of them drink so much coffee. It would kill me to drink that much coffee. And 'shrooms. And acid. They're supposed to be into health, like shopping at Whole Foods, and then they take enough pharmaceuticals to kill an elephant.
I don't think i can live with Margaret. I will have to come up with another plan.
January 7
Margaret is working at Whole Foods, like bagging groceries. She said maybe I could work there, too. Maybe. I still have lots of money. I found an apartment that is pretty cheap. I will be living with this older girl who is at the University, but she is pretty nice. Her name is Karen. She is studying anthropology. I think she is a junior. We each pay 350 a month, which sounds high but it is not too high. $700 gets you a lot in Kamloops, though. If I can make my money last for ten months, then I can go live with Eliot, because I will finally be 18.
The only problem is I don't have any furniture. I will have to get a futon, and maybe a desk.
January 20
I haven't got an email from Eliot in about four days and I am starting to get worried.
January 28
I got an email from Eliot today but all it said was, "where are you?" I stared at that email for a while, and then suddenly I got a terrible feeling in my stomach. Finally, I wrote back, "what are my favorite things?" But the message that came back was the same, "where are you?" Then I knew that Eliot was in trouble. Someone else was on his computer. The police must be hassling him again. And this time they probably thought he murdered me or something. They are probably digging in his backyard looking for my body.
January 29
I decided the only thing to do was to call my parents and tell them where I was. They must have sicked the police on Eliot again when I ran away from Williams. If he was in jail again, the only way to clear him was for me to turn up safe and sound a long way away from where he was. Then the only thing they could get him for was for talking to me on the internet. Which how bad could that be if they couldn't prove we had gotten together? I was just hoping that they had not been good enough detectives to go to Bennington and those other places. So I talked to Dad this evening. It wasn't so fun. He wanted to talk about me, and how horrible I was, but I just wanted to talk about Eliot. I told him that Eliot had nothing to do with my running away. I told him I was looking for Margaret, and that I hated school, and hated Mom, and hated the police and the doctors who stuck things in me. He didn't believe I was in Kamloops at first. He had never heard of Kamloops. He thought I was in Montreal, or near Montreal. I told him he could call me back, and check the area code. He did, and then he said the police would call me. I would have to fly to Montreal to talk to the police there. Then I would have to come home. I told him I didn't want to do that. I told him I would be 18 soon and then I could do what I wanted, and I could see Eliot if I wanted. If he made me come home, like had the police in Montreal escort me to the airplane, it would be very ugly when I got home, and it would be a miserable ten months until I turned 18. He said, well, we'll see. We'll talk some more in Montreal. He said he was flying to Montreal to see me. He said Mom probably wouldn't come, she never wanted to see me again, and I said whatever. He got really mad when I said that, but I don't care. He started talking about the car then, but I told him I didn't want to talk about it. I told him I would pay him back, but I didn't want to talk about it.
February 6
I saw Dad yesterday. He was still very upset. But I decided my best position was to be even more upset, and to keep talking about the doctors and the police, and feeling violated, because that seemed to make him quiet. I think when he is away from Mom, he thinks she overreacted to the whole Eliot thing. He said he met Eliot, and that he didn't seem like a bad young man. I think the police feel the same way. They read all the emails, and got the files from the police at home, so they know pretty much the whole story. They called Karen in Kamloops, to be sure I was really living there and hadn't just flown there the week before. I haven't been allowed to see Eliot, but Dad told me he is out on very low bail, and that the police are probably not going to pursue it. I don't think they had time to even go to Williams and ask questions there. I called right after El got arrested, and the investigation stopped at that point. I think maybe Canada is not quite as crazy as America about that stuff. Montreal especially, since it is kind of French, and the French don't see anything criminal about love. The only thing is, Mom is still raising such a ruckus with the police at home, that the police here are issuing a restraining order against Eliot, so that he can't see me until I am 18. I think that was some kind of compromise between the Canadian police and the American police.
February 8
Dad went back home last night. I had to agree to leave Montreal and return to the States, but Dad did not force me to go with him. He said I could probably still go back to Williams. I only missed my finals, and they were offering to give me incompletes. But I don't want to. Dad said he hoped me and Mom would patch it up someday soon. She was the only mother I had and all that. He said I should at least call him and let him know how I am doing. I told him I have money in the bank from the car, and he said I could live on that for the rest of the year. He could not give me more money, though, until I returned to college or came home. I said OK.
February 14
I am in Austin now. It was too cold up north. I figured if I am going to be alone anyway, I should be alone where it is warm. Austin is bigger than I thought. The college here is huge. I am taking some classes, not for credit. I am taking a painting class and a class in Tai Chi. And a class in physics. I am like the best student in my physics class, even though every one else is a science major and I missed the first three weeks. I made 100 on my first test, even though the class average was 53. I talk to Eliot everyday on the net, and call him about once a week. I miss him so bad. His painting is going very well in Montreal. He has several galleries and is making money. I ask him about his models all the time, but he says they are all still stupid. I hope so. He must be very lonely, too. But we only have nine months to go.
I got some Ghirardelli chocolates in the mail today. And another Badzu. I left all mine at home. But I still have Raggedy Babs. She is watching me from the windowsill. I think I will get a cat. I sent Eliot some warm socks from Lands End and a book of Pre-Raphaelite paintings.
February 28
I have two roommates who both go to UT. Barbara and Michelle. They are OK. At least they are pretty quiet. They are both English majors, so we can talk about stuff. We have a tiny house in Hyde Park, about two blocks from campus. It is pretty expensive. $1200 a month total. They are both from Texas. Michelle is from Houston. Barbara is from Lubbock. You can tell they think I am pretty weird. I haven't told them about Eliot and the police and Williams and all that. But they think my paintings are weird, and my hair, and the way I talk. I think they sound funny. They sound stupid even though they are smart. They probably think the same thing about me, except maybe they think I am not so smart, since I am just a temp student, without a major. I could tell them some things, but I don't think I will. I want to see what impression I have without my scores and all that shit.
March 3
Michelle has two cats who spend all their time in my room, even though I never feed them and it smells like turp in here. It makes Michelle mad. She always comes in and gets Stoney when she wants a friend to pet. I can't help it. It's not like I kidnapped her. I was going to get a cat, but I like Stoney and Measles, so that is enough for now.
March 21
I started writing a novel last night. I wrote ten pages. It sucks but it is a good idea, maybe i can rewrite it later and make it better. It is about a cat who is really a girl, and she can understand everything people say, and she can solve their problems but she cannot talk. I know it sounds stupid and childish, but it is really funny. Like Watership Down except with cats.
April 30
Eliot was thinking about flying down here, but he is afraid the police are still spying on him, and that they are just looking for a chance to throw his ass in jail. I used to think he was paranoid, but obviously i don't think that anymore. The police probably don't have anything better to do than spy on El, the hardened criminal. Sometimes I wonder if the FBI or something is spying on me. I wouldn't be surprised. I have my computer under so many passwords I can hardly use it myself. But they probably just intercept the messages when they are going through the phonelines.
June
All we do is think about how to get together without getting caught. Eliot has a plan but it sounds pretty risky. I am so lonely for him I think I would try anything. I keep telling him we only have six months to go, but he won't drop it. We are both obsessed.
June
El won't tell me the plan on the phone or on email. He is Fedexing me a letter. I feel like I am in a movie.
June
I got the letter today. Here is what I am supposed to do. Buy a bus ticket to Dallas. Have no suitcase, just credit cards. Have a friend pick me up on campus at noon, the busiest time of the day, at the busiest intersection in the middle of campus. Drive straight to the bus station. Buy the ticket at the station, not over the phone. Pay cash. In Waco I should get off the bus, but I should be the last one off, just before the doors close. If anyone else gets off, too, I should notice who he is. I will have to ditch him. If no one gets off with me, I should buy another ticket, again with cash, for Fredericksburg. I should be the last one on the bus, making sure no one got on after me. If anyone did get on after me, there were instructions for ditching him. And so on. Eliot would be in Fredericksburg that night at the Stagecoach Inn. If he was not there before me, there was trouble.
June
I joined Mr. Dodgson in room 8 at the Stagecoach Inn. Mr. Dodgson looked so good I had to eat him up. Me and Mr. Dodgson have changed the name of the Stagecoach Inn to the Inn of the Misfit Toys. We are expecting snow. And our pillows are very smelly.
July 1
God Eliot was so sweet I wanted to stay there forever. I can't stand another five months without him. We are going crazy. We had sex about four times everyday for four days. And it still wasn't enough. Eliot is already planning another rendezvous, but I told him we should hold out as long as possible, because of the money and because of the risk. I can't stand to think of him in jail again. And if they catch us this time, it could mean something really bad. I don't want to give up what we will have for sure in December just because we are impatient.
At first he agrees, but then he starts talking about it again. I think he thinks that because nothing happened this time, it means the police don't care anymore. But I am not so sure.
July 8
I told El I would not meet him again until December. We have made it this far and I cannot lose him now. He said he was glad one of us was strong. He asked if I needed money. He said he is making money now. I said no. I think I can make it til December.
July 9
I had a fight with Michelle today. I think she hates me because of the cats, so she is always harping on something. She doesn't like where I leave my bike, or the turp fumes get into her room, or my toothpaste leaks on the sinktop or something. I finally told her to leave me alone, there was a lot I didn't like about her, but I dealt with it. If she didn't like it she could move out. She said she was there before me and that I should move out. I told her I was moving out at the end of November and not before. So she locked herself in her room with the cats. I could hear them trying to get out.
July 12
I spend all day at Barton Springs, laying in the sun thinking of Eliot. I try to read but I can't, I can only stare at the sky.
I am still painting. I think of El when I paint, because I imagine he is doing the same thing at the same time. I haven't worked on my novel much. I got bogged down. I don't know what I want to happen after the first part. A long story is very complex. You have to think of a lot of things. It doesn't just write itself. I asked Measles and Stoney to help me think of things, but they aren't much help. Or maybe I just have trouble translating purrs.
July 14
I talked to my Dad today. He sounded very sad. I think him and Mom are having problems. I don't know how they have made it this long. But I guess it is hard to leave someone you have been with for twenty years, especially if you don't have anything else. I get so depressed thinking of my parents, I almost can't deal with it at all. I have to hang up and cry.
July 23
Eliot sent me some pictures of him. I wanted to paint him. But I wish I could take the pictures myself. They never look just the way I want them to. And then I start wondering who took the pictures. Eliot said he took them with a tripod and a timer, but I still get jealous.
August 18
I called the airlines today but they said they cannot sell tickets this far in advance. They said I should call back in October.
August 25
I signed up for a ballet class today, and a class for gymnastics. I thought it would be fun to jump on the trampoline. I saw people jumping on the trampoline at the gym, and the guy said I could sign up. That's the good thing about a big university. You can sign up for all kinds of fun stuff.
August 30
UT looked at my high school transcripts and offered me a scholarship in engineering. What a joke. They said they needed qualified women, and National Merit Scholars and all that, but no way am I going to get roped into some program like that, where you study fifteen hours a day. I am taking one class in astronomy and one class in philosophy. That is enough for now.
September 17
Our anniversary Kitty. Is it four or five years? I can't even remember. Four, I think. Two and half months til Montreal.
September 29
My astronomy teacher is trying to get me in the astronomy program. I got a 189 on the first major test (out of 200) and that was better than all the astronomy majors. I told him I was leaving after this semester.
Also, this guy named Carl who is in my trampoline class keeps wanting me to do stuff with him afterwards. He is cute, but I can't be thinking of stuff like that now.
October 14
I bought my ticket today on the internet. I was so excited. I called Eliot and told him. I will get there on my birthday, December 3.
November 3
One more month.
December 1
I sold my futon and my bike and my other stuff yesterday and moved into this hotel for two days. The Austin Motel. It is pretty crappy, but it is close to Guero's (my fave restaurant) and I can walk downtown. I am going to miss my finals in astronomy and philosophy. I had my last trampoline class on Friday and I said goodbye to Carl. Raggedy Babs and Badzu are sitting on my pillow, waiting to be put back in the suitcase day after tomorrow.
December 2
I got an email from El. It said this is on green paper. What are your favorite things? I said Ghirardelli and baby marshmellows and smelly pillows and Montreal.
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