The Sheila Variations

Diary Friday

Another Friday, another diary entry.

Came across this entry today and thought it was kind of sweet. It's from September, right before the start of my junior year. Before David took over my whole life.

That year there was a teacher's strike - and we didn't start school on time. I think they might have even struck for a week, a week and a half ... so there was nothing to do but ... you know. Keep going to the beach, keep hanging out.

I just love the images of Betsy and myself in this entry. We're still good friends today. Just saw her last weekend as a matter of fact. I love that.

You can see that some things never change. Look at how I begin the entry.

SEPTEMBER

9 p.m. -- East of Eden was on. SO EXCITED. JIMMY!!! Right as it started, the phone rang, and Siobhan called me to the phone. I ran to get it. "Hello?" Then came Betsy's voice, "Are you watching what I think you're watching?" "BETSY! You're home!" "Yeah! How are ya!" "Good! How are -- Oh! I got my braces off!" "Really?? Do they look good?" "They look wicked!" [Again. Not "wicked cool" or "wicked nice". Just "wicked".] "Oh my God, there he is." [Meaning James Dean, I am assuming] "Oh Betsy, I gotta go. Bye!" "Bye!" We both slammed down the phones and I'm sure we both raced for the TV. I had never seen the beginning. Diary -- the man did three movies. The man did three movies and LOOK at the impact! His movements, his face, the expressions, the hurt little boy face, the way he swings his whole body to turn around, hands shoved in his pockets. He is so great. God.

After - we went downtown to get my retainer. If you don't know what it is, it defies description.

Then I invited Betsy to go to the beach with us. We had so much fun! I hadn't seen her in so long! At the beach, we lay out on towels for a long time, talking about Jimmy [Not only were we on a first name basis with James Dean, but we were also close enough to him to call him by his nickname], and school, and camp and Texas. Betsy went to a Happening conference in Houston. [Happening. A religious retreat for teenagers. I did my "Happening" when I was ... 15, I think.] We walked up to the Pavilion for a soda. I told her about Mere and B.B. [Mere - hahahaha!] and we talked about the Sadies and we tried to think of someone for me to ask. Someone from camp. No more stupid SK macho dorks. [But ... what? Macho dorks? There were plenty of boys who weren't macho dorks. But ... the guy I had had a crush on sophomore year was, indeed, a big fat macho DORK.] NO WAY. Camp is the only way to go.

The water was massively grossly seaweedy, but we braved it. We had a blast. Slowly, we made our way out through the seaweed, occasionally calmly saying to each other, "This is really nauseating." We survived, and we went out far where there was no seaweed. We would be bobbing there having a conversation and a wave would crash over us, our heads would go under, and then we'd come back up and continue talking as though there had been no interruption.

Posted by sheila