Diary Friday

Well, unfortunately for my own dignity on this planet, I have unearthed the dreaded high school journals. They are filled with gossip, scandal, and intrigue. Half the time, it sounds like I’m in an adolescent version of Les Liaisons Dangereuses. Much of it I will NEVER SHARE. But some of it … I was reading through one on my weekend home, guffawing with laughter, all by myself.

Anyway. No more qualifying… This entry is from my junior year. I was deeply deeply in absolutely unrequited love with a guy named David. It is astonishing how much I wrote about him. Also deeply mortifying.

So… before I change my mind, here is the next installment of Diary Friday: (Oh, and if you’re curious, I blanked out one of my high school friends names below…not for any nefarious reason, but because her name is highly unusual and she has since gone on to become very very famous. I don’t want some kind of freaky freakin’ lawsuit on my hands cause I put her name into some dumb Diary Friday.) Okay, onward:

Feb. 8, 1984

We went bowling today. Great! I broke all my previous scores and got a 73! *****, Kate, April and I were all in the same section. Dave and Jeff were right beside us. As we were all putting on our shoes, April groaned and said, “I forgot my glasses again!” So far, she’s forgotteen them every time we’ve gone. We started jokingly making fun of her. Dave and I were sitting back to back and suddenly he turned around, grinning. “Why do you speak to April in this manner?” I can’t even remember what I said.

The class was great. I’d go up there to bowl, and once I sent the ball heading straight for the pins, I heard Dave call, “That’s the way!” He was WATCHING ME!! [Editorial note: I must interject. This is way too embarrassing to post without interjecting. I have nothing to SAY, exactly, but I just needed to interject and acknowledge that I KNOW how ridiculous I sounded. Thanks. Read on, Macduff.] I got a strike, too, and he was clapping and smiling. I’ll admit it in here to you–you’re just a diary– I really think there’s a chance. I know there is. [Editorial comment: The first of 5,498 times I will say that in my life thus far. And, like all 5,495 times, I will be WRONG. You do the math.] He talks to me all thetime, he goes out of his way to talkto me.

When we got back to the gym, we were early and had 15 minutes left. I was sitting on the bleechers with Kate, *******, and April. Dave was off somewhere talkig but then he strolled over and I just knew he was coming over to us. [Ed: wow, what was your clue, Sheila? That he was WALKING TOWARDS YOU?? Oh my GOD, what does it all MEAN???] He leaned on the bleechers behind me. Behind ME! [Oh, for God’s sake, we heard you the first time.] He rested his forehead on his fist. I had to crook my neck all the way back to look at him. He said, with a sighing voice, “Wait till you guys are seniors– second semester–“-he groaned, a real live groan [I can’t resist jutting myself in here – I am not sure what the significance to me of “real live groan” was. A “real live groan” as opposed to a “completely counterfeit groan”…] “I don’t care anymore! Either I’m in or I’m out – just get me out of here. I have the worst case of senioritis.”

Then, almost as one, all four of us said something like, “It’s settling in early!”

He smiled. “Really? Well, your junior year should be your peak. Everything you do should be the best.”

I said, “If this is the peak of my life, I’d really like to see my depressed moments.”

******* burst out laughing.

I laughed too and looked up at Dave. He was grinning down at me in this way – I don’t think I’m tricking myself here. It seemed like a very fond grin. Does he look upon me fondly? [Omigod, this is so embarrassing.] When I was sitting there, did he glance down at me when I didn’t know? I’m going crazy.

The bell rang. Dave kept talking to me as we picked up our books. Of course, all my friends drifted subtly off, leaving the two of us alone. What great people they are! Anyway, Dave was saying, “If you’re in sports, you’re the best. In your cas, if you’re in drama, you’re a smash hit!”

Oh!! I forgot! I’m so dumb! Judy quit about 2 weeks ago, I am now in the play! Mrs. Stanley!

So, I smiled sort of sarcastically as we walked along, and said, “I have two lines in the second act. Count ’em: TWO.”

He shrugged and smiled — This is the best part. “Better than I have.” In fact — he said it TWICE. Count it – TWICE. [2003: Oh, Jesus Christ. Wow, Sheila, he said it twice! He must be utterly and hopelessly in love with you.]

I wonder if he’ll come to see the play. OH GOD. I get to faint in it, and burst into tears. I play a real wimp. I like her, though.

Before I close, I have a tres tres tres hysterique story. I almost lost control in French class.

Tor B. –a kid in class – is moving. Too bad. I don’t know what his problem is. He is getting Fs in everything. We had an open book test in English, and he failed it. Mrs. Franco was saying to all of us, “Well, when I’m looking over your grades and I see that you have a stream of 100s and then a freak 40, I’ll just drop the 40.” Tor then raised his hand and said, “Uh … could that work in the opposite way?”

Anyway, he’s moving to North Carolina and he was absent a few days ago to go down and see the house. So in French (Mr. Hodge has a discussion time every class in French), Mr. Hodge was asking Tor questions about the house. Simple questions. This is our THIRD YEAR OF FRENCH, after all. Mr. Hodge was asking: how many bathrooms, bedrooms, big or small yard. Tor didn’t understand a word of it. I swear, too: the sun rose on his face. He was turning purple! He stumbled along. Dave, who sits right beside him, became the interpreter. It was so so funny.

Mr. Hodge would ask the question. There’d be a long silence, and then Dave would mutter under his breath, “How many bathrooms?” All eyes were on poor Tor. I, personally, was watching Dave, who kept grinning over at me, slightly, like, “Get a load of this guy…”

Then, Mr. Hodge asked him if the house had a cellar. Tor sat there, silently, face like a beet. Dave interpreted, and then Tor said, with conviction, the only word he knows for sure in French, “Oui.” Extended vocab there. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t make fun, but this story is so hysterical.

Mr. Hodge then asked if it was a wine cellar. Tor’s face was a total blank. He nodded anyway, without Dave interpreting, which was a dumb move. He got trapped. Mr. Hodge then asked what color wine they stored down there — blanche, rouge, rose. Tor, in his panic, only heard the word “coleur”, only understood the word “coleur”, so he said, in English, obviously thinking that Mr. Hodge had asked him what color the HOUSE was: “Uh … greenish…”

Oh my God, I thought I was going to have to leave the room.

Everyone BURST into laughter. I laughed so hard my stomach ached. Davide’s face at that moment will be engraved in my brain forever.

****** and I kind of could not stop laughing about the green wine all the way thru class and on into lunch.

After school, I went over to Betsy’s so we could practice Guys and Dolls. She had gotten a letter from a guy she really likes …he was telling her about hmself, he was like, “I am a Christian. Perhaps a stumbling one, but a Christian.” Isn’t that so sweet? Not every guy would come out and say that.

We had a really good talk on her couch and then we watched Little House on the Prairie. Oh my God, Carrie fell down the well. Betsy and I were laughing so hard at Michael Landon trying to cry. But at the end of the show, when they saved Carrie, tears were streaming down my cheeks. Betsy laughed SO HARD at that, because we had been making fun of it all along, and suddenly I succumbed. They got me.

I’m crying a lot, lately. Not about me,but at movies, TV shows, awards ceremonies, ballet, certain commercials. I get a lump in my throat about practically anything.

I think I may be sensitive to a fatal extreme. I hope not.