Diary Friday: “Diary, This Is Not a Crush!“

Here is an entry from my journal when I was a junior in high school. I was madly in love (in an unrequited fashion, getting my practice in for later in life apparently) with the Band President, referred to here as “DW”.

NOVEMBER 11 – VETERANS DAY

I am now here at Meredith’s. It’s 10:00 but it feels like it’s midnight. GOD. AM I TIRED.

Today I went over to Mere’s bright and early so we could see the parade together. As Mere got ready (she was still in her pjs), we listened to records, looked at rock magazines, and talked about boys. [Uhm, central casting??] We talked about two boys in particular.

Anyway, we started out and the parade had already started so I rudely tore down the sidewalk and perched on the curb looking for the band. Mere caught up with Dolores — just then the band was going by — in their blue suits and hats with plumes.

DW wasn’t playing. He was leading the whole thing. He was dressed in a white sort of Sergeant Pepper suit with white sneakers – he held a shiny post with a ball on the end [Uhm – a baton, Sheila?] – he waved that. [Now I know I have so much distance between then and now – but come on. I was in love with this guy and suddenly I get to see him as Harold Hill?? Of COURSE I was in love with him!! “76 trombones led the big parade …” I mean, who could resist??] Around his neck hung a whistle. He’s such a big shot. I love it. I almost died when I first saw him. He looked so grand. He was walking backwards, facing the band – arms up – conducting – He kept glancing over his shoulder, and then turning back. I never knew he looked so cute. HE WAS GORGEOUS! Mere quietly stood there letting me sob on her shoulder – then – (the parade was a big 3 minutes) – we went down to Hazard School where the whole parade and everyone gathered for the memorial service for the dead veterans.

The whole walk down, I felt so weird inside. My DW feeling.

Everyone was gathered on the lawn around the big plaque – with all the names on it. The band was standing near it in lines, all holding their instruments. DW stood in line with the first row – but off to the side. He leaned his hands on the post in front of him. I didn’t know he was going to be so gorgeous. He looked so solemn.

Mere and I stood smack opposite him. He was looking straight my way. Mere murmured to me, “Sheila, he is looking right at you.” “I know. I know.”

During the prayer, he bowed his head. [And, obviously you didn’t.] I liked to see that. I like to see that he has a serious side. I could talk seriously to him.

After the ceremony, Mere and I ran over to talk to J as the band walked back to the schoool. J’s so cute – she kept ordering me, “Come into the band room, Sheila! Come on! Strike up a conversation!” I kept saying, “Right. Right.”

Finally, Mere and I did. It was havoc. All those blue uniforms and plumes running around. J kept giving me burning glares across the room. I casually leaned up against a column in the middle of the room, talking to Mere. [“Casually” my ass.] Suddenly, Mere mouthed hugely, “He’s right there.” I glanced over my shoulder. There he was. Leaning on the very same post as me. Our backs were touching.

I cannot even explain it. How can anyone explain the feeling? God, I wish I were eloquent. I know exactly the feeling, but I can’t put it into words.

It’s like this. I like DW so much it aches. It yawns and gnaws away inside me. (How poetic)

Anyway, I turned back to Mere, with an agonized glance – then suddenly DW sort of circled the column – using his shoulder as a pivot – so that he came face to face with me. He is so huge. He turns me on. Tall men! I like that!

He grinned down at me. “So … how did we look out there marching?”

I wanted to throw myself on him screaming, “YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS!” but I just smiled. “You guys looked really good. Very dignified.” “How’d we sound?” “You weren’t playing when you passed us.” Then someone walked by and asked DW “What time do we gotta be here tomorrow?” DW lifted his hand to his forehead and rubbed it, thinking. His elbow brushed against my forehead. His voice is so deep. “Eight o’clock.” I stared at him. “The game starts at eight?” “Oh … no. But we have to get here early so we can jam and stuff.” [I find that absolutely endearing.] “Ah!”

Then DW went off to put his sax away. Mere made this up: DW has “sax appeal”. So then. Mere and I waved to J and left. As we left, I heard sly J yell, “See ya tomorrow, Sheila!”

All the way home, Mere and I – I love her – [Note: It is not possible for me to put FOUR underlines beneath the words “I love her” – but just know that that is how it appears in the original] I am the most fortunate girl in the world. Thank you God! THANK YOU, GOD!! Dave turned to talk to me! What am I gonna do?

I’m going to the Homecoming with J and April. Mr. President will probably be there. I will not ask him to dance. I will let him ask me. I think he will if I give him a chance. I’ll just strike up a conversation with him. See if he does care or if it’s my overactive imagination.

Then – we all went to the Umbrella Factory – the most wonderful little store full of everything – posters of everyone, knick knacks, boxes, jewelry, mobiles – all crammed into a tiny ramshackle building. I bought a new diary. I’m almost run out on this one. My new one is beautiful. It’s Chinese – or Japanese? – a woven cover of reds ilk with shiny thread – with little embroidered pagodas and flowers – I love it! And I bought a Jimmy poster [No need for last names. Me and Jimmy Dean – we’re like THIS!] and some wicked stationery. [I love when the word “wicked” shows up in this context in these journals. hahahaha]

Then we went to the Gift Barn – a quaint group of stores around a small duck pond. I had run out of money by then but we had a good time anyway. I am exhausted and Mere is now ready for bed – and so am I! [Mere – while I was sleeping over your house – I sat there WRITING IN MY DIARY? How rude. I apologize! I am sure you were busy reading “rock magazines” but still.]

Football game tomorrow.

Diary – this is not a crush!!