Monday, January 24, 1972
LOCATION: Newport Beach, California
10:30 PM
Another episode in the life drama of Grady Lyda -- I got up at 9:00. The Imperial was parked out on the street, and they were doing some roadwork, so I had to move one of the traffic pylons to drive out the car. First I went to Sea Schwinn, and found out that they are closed on Mondays (that's new). The Antique Shop next door was closed too, so I won't be buying an antique key for a while. I then drove to the bank and withdrew $50 (now I've got $11.24 left in my account), after which I went to Grandlydia to get the dirty clothes and Matt's stuff. I took the clothes to the cleaners (they'll be ready Thursday -- they couldn't clean the pillow, but they'll fix the coat sleeve), and drove to Bailey's Collectors Shop, which was closed.
So I finally went to school at about 10:45. Parking spaces were scarce, and I finally attempted to squeeze into a space -- THE RESULTS WERE DISASTROUS (NOTE THE NOTE).
I DID A HIDEOUS PARKING JOB. I CAME TOO CLOSE, RUBBING INTO THE PARKED CAR'S REAR FENDER -- WHEN I TRIED TO BACK UP I SCRAPED THE CAR, SO, AFTER A MOMENT'S DELIBERATION, I COMMITTED MYSELF AND DROVE FORWARD INTO THE PARKING SPACE. THE IMPERIAL GRAZED THE YELLOW WATJACALLIT, AND I WAS STUCK -- IF I BACKED UP I WOULD INFLICT HEAVY DAMAGES, SO I GAVE UP, GRITTED MY TEETH, EXITTED OUT THE PASSENGER'S SIDE, LOCKED UP, AND WITH A SICK FEELING IN MY STOMACH, LEFT THE SCENE, HOPING IT WOULD GO AWAY. I STAYED IN THE LIBRARY WAITING FOR LUNCH TIME, WHICH CAME IN AN HOUR.
James Richard Fish I (Mr. Fish) was sitting on the lawn in the usual place. I sat down next to him and he chuckled a lot -- I was supposed to be in New York. Shawna came next, and said sweetly, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE!" As I was explaining myself (I learned that Mary was sick) I saw Meg at a distance -- she saw me too, and barely condescended enough to wave, slightly, while talking with some friends. I acknowledged her supreme effort tacitly. I hardly recognized her -- she's changed her hair; it's all fluffy and psuedo-luxurious. She's changed drastically since I was "going with her" a few months ago. For a kid of 15 she sure is growing fast.
Soonly, I left Shawna, Fish, Sheperd Salusky, Craig Harvey, Peter Shergalis, et al, and proceeded to the other group: Timothy Hourigan, Beverly, and several unknowns. My appearance didn't impress them -- they continued with what they were doing, which was studying oral French homework (I don't mean that the way it sounds -- they're clean). They eventually finished and I conversed for awhile. Fish and Shergalis appeared, then I saw Matthew wander by and I accosted him. He's living with Jack, his real father, now, and he came to school to socialize like me. He no longer has to come at all. We talked with various friends upon whom we chanced to stumble for a few moments (I saw Peter Whatsisname from Semantics -- semi-intellectual philosopher; and Donald Englar -- cool friendly radical Donaldo, brother of Bruce Englar).
I saw Meg and Bob, and Matt and I went over to talk (though Matt is officially ignoring Meg), and I asked Meg for my story, which I lent to her a couple of months ago, and which has been sitting in her locker unread for a couple of months. Matt wandered away, and Meg'n 'n' Me went to her locker for the story. She exuded coolness, bordering on open hostility which I don't entirely understand. I asked her, "Who haven't you been getting involved with lately?" Admittedly an impolite question, but appropriate under the circumstances. She said, "I don't want to talk about it," and she didn't. I'm not sure what "it" is, but if she's not going to talk about it, I guess I won't either. As of New Year's she was definitely through with me -- when a girl refuses to kiss you on New Year's Eve at midnight under mistletoe, she's either thru with you or an incurable iconoclast. I got my story, apologized for cluttering her locker with it, and returned to Bev and Tim, with whom I continued to explain the events of the past few weeks. Beverly stole my watch (WHY do girls do that? Shawna often stole my glasses, causing a violent battle) -- and the ensuing struggle to regain my rightful possession proceeded past the bell, and ended finally when I dragged her along the grass, tugging at my watch. She eventually relinquished her grasp and became hostile upon noticing that her white slacks bore grass stains. After necessary admonishments and apologies against Bev's angry glare, I hastily departed.
I passed Meg Waldron again, sitting alone on the lawn as everyone hurried to their classes. I said, "Don't you have a class this period?" and she nodded, hoping I'd leave, and I did. I walked to the bike racks, hoping to find Terri Sneathen before she left for tutoring, but I couldn't locate her. However, I ran into Robin Somebody from Semantics and Physiology, and learned that she is dropping out today. It seems to be catching. Bob sidetracked me as he belatedly wandered to his Chemistry class. He decided to go to the library and I departed from his company at that point, going to the parking lot to see what the situation was. I was still snugly crunched against the car, but now there were a few orange peels on the roof. I left the parking lot and headed for the library, but I once again met Bob, with whom I went to East Hall so he could drop off an assignment in Mrs. Cunningham's box. We wandered about and talked -- I learned he had a birthday yesterday. He's sixteen now and taller than me -- he's giving me a complex (Bob, by the way, was Meg's only theoretical true love, and apparently still is, at least sporadically -- she hates his guts occasionally). While we were standing and talking a few friends came by -- Peter Whatsisname from Semantics, and Ray Stevens from Social Problems (both of whom are graduating at the end of this semester).
We dissolved when the bell rang, and I went back to the library, where I said "Hi" to Laurie Weller, then I found a book and sat down. Laurie wandered by, patted me on the head, and went out the door -- then I noticed that Karen Boucher, a Cancerian from Semantics and Social Problems, was at the table behind me (Good Lord! I didn't know I knew that many girls -- I've mentioned eight so far). I was invited to her table, which was also occupied by a witty fellow with wire framed glasses. We conversed for a few minutes, then Laurie came back and walked through the library. Karen, apparently having business with Laurie, followed her, and I left, thinking I'd get in the car and try to drive away, despite the mechanical difficulties. I lost my nerve and returned to the library, and Karen (who has a five-period day) was preparing to go to her home with Laurie (who was emotionally upset due to male trouble), and the witty fellow with the wire framed glasses (whose name I later learned was something like "Ringo"), and I were invited to go to Karen's house, which was in the apartments immediately across the street. He, me, and she went to her apartment where there was Dana, her older sister (18 going on 19, Pisces, very beautiful, and friendly).
Laurie came in momentarily, and left after a few minutes. Dana, me, Karen & Ringo (who was not only witty but typically horny) talked and joked. After an hour, Ringo left, and I stayed a couple more hours, entertaining the two young ladies until about 5:00. I was invited to come back anytime -- I probably will. Dana's worth getting to know a little better.
The parking lot was empty except for a few cars -- the orange peels were gone and the Imperial (slightly scrunched in the side) had a note on the windshield. I was relieved it was a girl -- All I'd need is an angry varsity football gorilla to make my day complete. I went home and called her about 5:45 but her mother answered -- Pam wasn't home then. So much for that -- maybe if I ignore it, it'll go away. She may have my license number, but I doubt the damage was enough to motivate an insurance squabble -- I hope, I hope, I hope I hope I hope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope
PLEASE BE A GOOD GIRL PAM -- WHOEVER YOU ARE
LOCATION: Newport Beach, California
10:30 PM
Another episode in the life drama of Grady Lyda -- I got up at 9:00. The Imperial was parked out on the street, and they were doing some roadwork, so I had to move one of the traffic pylons to drive out the car. First I went to Sea Schwinn, and found out that they are closed on Mondays (that's new). The Antique Shop next door was closed too, so I won't be buying an antique key for a while. I then drove to the bank and withdrew $50 (now I've got $11.24 left in my account), after which I went to Grandlydia to get the dirty clothes and Matt's stuff. I took the clothes to the cleaners (they'll be ready Thursday -- they couldn't clean the pillow, but they'll fix the coat sleeve), and drove to Bailey's Collectors Shop, which was closed.
So I finally went to school at about 10:45. Parking spaces were scarce, and I finally attempted to squeeze into a space -- THE RESULTS WERE DISASTROUS (NOTE THE NOTE).
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| James Fish The Galleon 1972 |
Soonly, I left Shawna, Fish, Sheperd Salusky, Craig Harvey, Peter Shergalis, et al, and proceeded to the other group: Timothy Hourigan, Beverly, and several unknowns. My appearance didn't impress them -- they continued with what they were doing, which was studying oral French homework (I don't mean that the way it sounds -- they're clean). They eventually finished and I conversed for awhile. Fish and Shergalis appeared, then I saw Matthew wander by and I accosted him. He's living with Jack, his real father, now, and he came to school to socialize like me. He no longer has to come at all. We talked with various friends upon whom we chanced to stumble for a few moments (I saw Peter Whatsisname from Semantics -- semi-intellectual philosopher; and Donald Englar -- cool friendly radical Donaldo, brother of Bruce Englar).
I saw Meg and Bob, and Matt and I went over to talk (though Matt is officially ignoring Meg), and I asked Meg for my story, which I lent to her a couple of months ago, and which has been sitting in her locker unread for a couple of months. Matt wandered away, and Meg'n 'n' Me went to her locker for the story. She exuded coolness, bordering on open hostility which I don't entirely understand. I asked her, "Who haven't you been getting involved with lately?" Admittedly an impolite question, but appropriate under the circumstances. She said, "I don't want to talk about it," and she didn't. I'm not sure what "it" is, but if she's not going to talk about it, I guess I won't either. As of New Year's she was definitely through with me -- when a girl refuses to kiss you on New Year's Eve at midnight under mistletoe, she's either thru with you or an incurable iconoclast. I got my story, apologized for cluttering her locker with it, and returned to Bev and Tim, with whom I continued to explain the events of the past few weeks. Beverly stole my watch (WHY do girls do that? Shawna often stole my glasses, causing a violent battle) -- and the ensuing struggle to regain my rightful possession proceeded past the bell, and ended finally when I dragged her along the grass, tugging at my watch. She eventually relinquished her grasp and became hostile upon noticing that her white slacks bore grass stains. After necessary admonishments and apologies against Bev's angry glare, I hastily departed.
I passed Meg Waldron again, sitting alone on the lawn as everyone hurried to their classes. I said, "Don't you have a class this period?" and she nodded, hoping I'd leave, and I did. I walked to the bike racks, hoping to find Terri Sneathen before she left for tutoring, but I couldn't locate her. However, I ran into Robin Somebody from Semantics and Physiology, and learned that she is dropping out today. It seems to be catching. Bob sidetracked me as he belatedly wandered to his Chemistry class. He decided to go to the library and I departed from his company at that point, going to the parking lot to see what the situation was. I was still snugly crunched against the car, but now there were a few orange peels on the roof. I left the parking lot and headed for the library, but I once again met Bob, with whom I went to East Hall so he could drop off an assignment in Mrs. Cunningham's box. We wandered about and talked -- I learned he had a birthday yesterday. He's sixteen now and taller than me -- he's giving me a complex (Bob, by the way, was Meg's only theoretical true love, and apparently still is, at least sporadically -- she hates his guts occasionally). While we were standing and talking a few friends came by -- Peter Whatsisname from Semantics, and Ray Stevens from Social Problems (both of whom are graduating at the end of this semester).
We dissolved when the bell rang, and I went back to the library, where I said "Hi" to Laurie Weller, then I found a book and sat down. Laurie wandered by, patted me on the head, and went out the door -- then I noticed that Karen Boucher, a Cancerian from Semantics and Social Problems, was at the table behind me (Good Lord! I didn't know I knew that many girls -- I've mentioned eight so far). I was invited to her table, which was also occupied by a witty fellow with wire framed glasses. We conversed for a few minutes, then Laurie came back and walked through the library. Karen, apparently having business with Laurie, followed her, and I left, thinking I'd get in the car and try to drive away, despite the mechanical difficulties. I lost my nerve and returned to the library, and Karen (who has a five-period day) was preparing to go to her home with Laurie (who was emotionally upset due to male trouble), and the witty fellow with the wire framed glasses (whose name I later learned was something like "Ringo"), and I were invited to go to Karen's house, which was in the apartments immediately across the street. He, me, and she went to her apartment where there was Dana, her older sister (18 going on 19, Pisces, very beautiful, and friendly).
 |
| Pamela Grau The Galleon 1972 |
Laurie came in momentarily, and left after a few minutes. Dana, me, Karen & Ringo (who was not only witty but typically horny) talked and joked. After an hour, Ringo left, and I stayed a couple more hours, entertaining the two young ladies until about 5:00. I was invited to come back anytime -- I probably will. Dana's worth getting to know a little better.
The parking lot was empty except for a few cars -- the orange peels were gone and the Imperial (slightly scrunched in the side) had a note on the windshield. I was relieved it was a girl -- All I'd need is an angry varsity football gorilla to make my day complete. I went home and called her about 5:45 but her mother answered -- Pam wasn't home then. So much for that -- maybe if I ignore it, it'll go away. She may have my license number, but I doubt the damage was enough to motivate an insurance squabble -- I hope, I hope, I hope I hope I hope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope Ihope
PLEASE BE A GOOD GIRL PAM -- WHOEVER YOU ARE
[You might think it's not possible to cram that much text onto a single page. I am including a photo of that entry to show how it was done.]
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