Diary Friday

Well, the following entry is from my junior year in high school, when I fell in “love” for the first time. I mean, nothing ever happened with the guy, of course … but I loved him world without end. Not only did I love him, but he was the symbol of all that was GOOD and RIGHT with the world. My junior year diaries are pretty much unreadable to me because of my undying LOVE for this guy. If he was in school? The day was full of stories to tell: little glances, little looks, comments … If he was absent? I might as well have just stayed at home in bed myself. Life only mattered if he was nearby. This all ended in a raging tragedy/disappointment … but I maintained this idealistic love-affair-of-the-brain for the entire school year before he crashed off the pedestal.

I can’t BELIEVE how much I wrote about this person. The amount of ink …

Anyway.

Here’s a funny entry. From February of my junior year. This will give you some idea of what was up with me … and also give you an idea of why I can barely read a word of the “junior year diaries” any more. Every entry reads like this one. Makes me glad that I didn’t have a boyfriend until I was 21 years old, and that was better for me. I had had 4 years of college, and had grown up quite a bit. None of this “Oooh, look how clumsy and silly I am … could you help me with this, O Big Man on Campus?”

I want to smack my younger self for doing that.

FEBRUARY

Wednesday — day before Dave’s birthday!!!!! [Ed: Dave was his name. See? Even the damn day of the week is significant because it is the “day before his birthday”. ]

Diary — Guess who was my bowling partner today.

Yes. Yes. Diary — YES! I can’t believe this.

My life is beginning to move — maybe gradually, but compared to the pace of the rest of my existence, this is breakneck speed. [Bowling with Dave is breakneck speed?]

We were partners! See, Jeff wasn’t here today, so April and I were in line and Dave asked us, “Could I bowl with you guys?” Of course we both said yes, quite boisterously. No, actually, I just nodded, grinned at him, and said, “Sure!” The elation I felt was too much – TOO MUCH! I just stood there thinking, “Thank you, God.” [God concerns himself with your bowling partner, and ignores the famines in Africa?]

As we stood a threesome in line, Dave was saying, “I can give you all my bowling techniques.” [Why do you assume I can’t bowl? ]

April glanced at me and we both roared. I swear, each time April goes up there, she throws the ball right into the gutter. When he asked us, I said breezily, “Sure! But I’ll be really nervous.” He smiled at me. “No, you won’t.” “Oh yes, I will!” “No, you won’t. I’ll pass on all my techniques.” “Well, I’ll need it.”

I wonder if he felt as I did. Diary — I was ecstatic.

Just imagine: WE’RE GONNAL BOWL TOGETHER!!!!

[I honestly don’t know what to say here. I just need to interject myself into this dialogue … Uhm. Okay.]

I got my shoes. Dave was right behind me. The guy handed me the score sheet, and he glanced up at Dave, who nodded at April and I: “I’m with them!” I can’t even begin to explain the flip-flops my heart did. I acted so casual. How did I do it? I’m sure my face was all flushed. We all got our shoes. As we walked down the stairs I was mouthing crazily to J. and Kate: “HE’S BOWLING WITH US!” Their wide-eyed expressions sent shivers down my back.

Needless to say, bowling was positively heaven. HEAVEN. Not a stain blemished my soul! [Oh good grief.] I mean it.

First: the putting on of the shoes.

I sat down first. He had stopped to talk to someone, then he sat beside me. What is it about sitting next to him that is overwhelming? I swear. I could hardly tie my shoes. But there he was: with his grey wool socks. We were laughing about bowling shoes. He was saying, “I would like to wear these to school one day — especially the multi-colored ones!”

I sat in the chair and wrote our 3 names. It felt so weird. Diary, I know I won’t be able to explain this, but — writing down his name below mine – Sheila, Dave … I liked the feeling. But it was alien. I liked it!!!

Well, I went first. Dave took my place, taking up the pencil.

Okay, I’ll just say this even though it’ll sound odd. I felt so strange having him see my name there – looking at me – knowing who I am – he’s able to pick me out in a crowd – he knows me – I – I don’t know what he sees. Throughout the whole game, he was the one who did my score. Oh wow. I just think it’s neat.

Let me go into detail.

I went up first. I faltered on my first try. I started, then stopped. I heard Dave say, “Relax, Sheila.” [Uhm. Very good advice, Sheila, coming from that 17 year old boy. RELAX.]

So I did! We’re friends! Over all I did okay bowling. (For me, I mean – 75) Dave was too adorable for words. I’d come back and sit down and he’d say to me, “You’ve got a good curve on the ball, Sheila. Some people work years to get that. But what you’ve got to do is – aim for the right because your ball curves for the left –”

Oh, he was so cute.

And April. She is such a funny bowler. He’s so nice – very encouraging, like: “Come on, April – throw it straight – start back a little bit – point your thumb – straight … straight …” But all in a nice way. Of course nice. He was helping her bowl, and me, too.

One time I knocked over 8 pins and had 2 left. One on one side, one on the other. I stood there saying, “Okay, now what do I do?” He gestured to me to come over closer to him [heaven on earth to me, a 16 year old, HIGHLY sensitive to the nuances of body language … I still am.], so I did. I went down to him, and he said, “Okay, what you have to do is aim for the extreme left of the left pin, so it’ll bounce over and hit the other one.” He smiled up at me. I gave him this sarcastic thumbs-up sign and said, “Gotcha, Dave. I’ll get right on that.” Of course I missed both of them by a mile.

I did the scoring for him. I’m terrible at Math [thanks, Miss Rogers! My feckin’ awful 5th grade teacher. Thanks a bunch for SHAMING ME, and making math a stumbling block for me forever, you BITCH.] – I just blundder around. I can’t do simple addition in my mind, I have to count it out. “What’s 9 + 8??!!!” Then when he’d get a spare, I’d say, “Now. How do you do this?” And he’d come over and point at the paper telling me how to do it.

I remember staring down at the paper and there were his hands and fingers right in front of me. [I’ve always been very big on hands.]

I admit it: I felt privileged to be bowling with Dave. [BWAHAHAHAHAHA]. The tingly feeling never left me. I can’t tell you it all, because it was all great.

Since we were a threesome, we were the last ones done. Everyone had already gone back up, so we walked back to school together.

Oh, Diary. OH, DAVE!!! [Breathe, Sheila. Breathe.]

We talked about SK Pades. [This was a show that every year, the junior class put on.] We talked about clicques, and how awful they are.

He said, “So, how is SK Pades going?” [He was a senior. I was a junior.]

He asked, “Are people like — KB breezing in and just dominating?”

He doesn’t like KB. She is … I feel like a servant when I’m around her. She’s like – so overwhelmingly beautiful.

I nodded. “Yeah, it feels like I’m not part of my class sometimes. I swear. This school is such a hierarchy.”

He cried, “Yeah” in agreement, which surprised me.

I went on, “Therefore, I must be a serf.”

Dave laughed a little, and said, “Well, you don’t want to be a part of that whole scene anyway, do you?”

I shook my head, while my soul soared. He understand me!!!

We also talked about bowling. [I’m sorry, but this whole thing is striking me as absolutely hysterical. “My soul soared!! Then we talked about bowling.” I mean, it’s just KILLING me!]

He was laughing and saying, “Point your thumb – keep it straight – if you ever go bowling with me again, that’s about all you hear.” If I ever go with him again!!!!!!

It was almost like the whole thing was a dream. It wasn’t really happening. I hate this. I get so positive at times. I mean – I get absolutely sure. I feel as though some sort of countdown is ticking away. What’s going to happen?

Jayne is coming home this weekend. We’re also going to do Part II of our movie.

Also, Mrs. McNeil has been supplying me with mounds of pamphlets and info on theatrical opportunities. NYC, RIC, Theatre by the Sea, Northwestern, and Warner Brothers is conducting a talent search, and what you do is send them, a videotape of you doing a scene. Mrs. McNeil recommended a scene for me to do from The Member of the Wedding, so this weekend I’m going to do it. I’m going to film myself doing one of the monologues. I think it’s going to be the toughest one I’ve had to do so far. It’s really hard. I love Frankie though. I really really relate to her.

Oh — today, Kate and I asked David if he would do Whiteside. [This was the lead in “Man who came to dinner”. This “Dave” person would have been PERFECT for it. Even with so many years of retrospect, I can see that!] It was so awkward. Right before English, we saw him and practically pounced on him. He was confused at first to why we were so eager, so I just plunged in saying, “Dave – Walter isn’t showing up at all –” He immediately knew what we were after and almost backed off, saying, “I can’t act – I can’t act – Don’t ask me – I can’t act…” We started to plead with him, but he kept backing off saying, “It’s too alte now … I’m doing too much …”

We started back into English feeling like total jerks (at least I did). My last glance of him was him smiling at me saying, “Thanks for asking, anyway.”

Oh Diary, I felt so idiotic. I blushed all the way through English. [Yes, but did you blush in Georg’s arms?] I felt doomed. Oh, what if he hates me? No, I know he doesn’t. But still I felt so dumb. Oh so dumb.

When we told Mr. Crothers what he said, Crud said, “What does he mean he can’t actr? He wouldn’t even have to!”

[A brief note: Mr. Crothers was one of my favorite teachers. EVER. And … every student in his class called him “Crud” or “The Crud” – in this endearing way. So weird. “Hey, did you hear about the Crud?” He even knew that we did it … so strange! We STILL refer to him as The Crud. “Hey, guess who I saw at so-and-so’s wedding? The Crud!”]

So Mr. Crothers said he would work on him a little more — bug him — cause I said I sure couldn’t do it again.

I’m so worried. Why am I so awkward? Why am I positive one minute and so stumbling in another?

I love him, Diary – I know that!!