Aug 15 – 66 – Aboard the Gryphon
No Bad, no Good, no Up, no Down, No Wednesday or Friday except in The Mind of Man. Sitting on the deck reading Maurois’ Life of Balzac – Prometheus. As usual I am fruitlessly pursing interesting people through the indexes. I am so interested in people who just appear once and flash away. That’s history. I especially enjoy the tantalizing extracts from the diary of Melanie Princess Metternich! How I’d adore reading the whole thing! Makes me ashamed of this spastic notebook with its diaristic pretenses. How can I upgrade this rag? Mention as many names as possible and hope one of s vaults the bridge of death?
Getting late. We left Sarnia headed for Tobermory and I have the nine to twelve watch so I have to stay awake. I should rush down now that I have a chance and freshen u, trying to make myself a ravishing beauty in case of passing tug. Dad keeps mouthing off about The Evils of the President – I say Johnson is just a Prisoner of his Age.
Sat. Aug 20 – 66
What a storm! I awoke to hear Daddy calling me – pulled on some foul weather gear and went on deck – seas foamy white and waves at least 17 feet – no lie! Daddy gave me the helm to hold hard over while he & Mom lowered the sails. I was freezing and wet and shivering in seconds. Dad tied the helm over and went below for just awhile. We were looking for the Cove Island Light and when we got there the natives were amazed that we had weathered that storm! (Battens flew out of the mainsail!)
Daddy took us out to dinner at The Tub. We had porterhouse steaks! We stocked up on food, had the head repaired and then took off for Collins Inlet. After skirmishing with a couple of snakes (one a rattler! – the other a swimmer) I was happy to sunbathe nude on the beach while Mom & Dad explored the island. Saw 2 jackrabbits and a passel of beavers. Afterward we barbecued chicken and ate apple pie on the beach leaving me fatter and happier. I am writing this by flashlight while Mom and Dad yell at me to go to bed. (Apparently they don’t want to be mentioned in my index.) They are prisoners of convention.
Sun. Aug 21 – 66
Feeling oddly happy and calm in spite of the turbulence of my future. School? I can’t kid myself – in two months I will be bored & screaming. I don’t want to follow a life shaped by another’s hand. I want Alysse to be for Alysse. Wonder what that is in Latin – want to put it on my shield. My mother says I’m an egotist but I think I’m just normal.
I believe in generosity and kindness and all that but living for others is death. I believe in calming and exploring the depths of your own waters. “Self-plumbing!” Inspired right now by Simone de Beauvoir’s Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter. (The “dutiful” is sarcastic.)
Sep 12 – 66 – Brockton Ohio
Back home. Sitting on the same old stone bench where I used to sit and look out at the Same Old Woods but things are inexplicably different. Bloy is back from Choate – much handsomer – blonde goatee and all. He is very envious of me for going to a double sex school and asks a lot about it. He is taller and handsomer but he doesn’t seem to notice it – in fact has acquired a stammer that makes my heart go out to him. Is the Boy Next Door a Possible? I don’t know.
Tues Sept 20 – 66
Back at horrible old Plumly. Already so restless that I want to leave. Had to break up with poor old Blair – he kept holding my hand, waiting for me after meals and telling me things I’ve heard before. It got so I wanted to duck behind a pillar whenever I saw him. Reputation for heartlessness into overdrive but I can’t help it. Not heartless merely ornery. Just can’t cope with this “ownership” stuff.
Reading The Hepburn which is WAY too sexy and not helping my mood. Dizzified with lust. I’d go for a Hepburn but I can’t find any.
“Give me the earth, give me the sky – Stone, not sand on which to lie.”
Writing a parody of The Last of the Wine – “The Last of the Alphabet Soup”. Takes place at Plumly in the far distant future and reveals a sexual disintegration of the nth degree. Of course I am the heroine – named “Shalott” but pronounced “P-chot”. Better get to it. Whether Mr. Bernard will find it funny or not I can’t say.
Sept 25 – 66
I’ve got to stop reading like this. Evelyn Waugh did not write Vile Bodies to motivate Christian schoolgirls to do their homework and get into a “nice” college. Further disturbance created by the fact that the person I identify with in his work always gets killed. First Prudence, then Agatha. I think he just hates women.
Hard to concentrate there are so many record players going on this floor. Open any door and the inside looks like a Pepsi commercial. It’s Barbra Streisand vs. the Fugs, the Turtles battling it out with the Lettermen and Beach Boys neck and neck with Bob Dylan.
Thurs Sept 29 – 66
Everyone in love with new speech coach except me. I spread my dragnet instead for Doug Bristow from Kenya who has one gold and one blue eye! (And a crazy laugh!) Unfortunately he’s dating someone else and my roomie Aynsley says Marnie never dates longer than a month because she’s too possessive. (Hope!) I asked the Ouija board when he would ask me out and it said Oct 2 but doubt he can move that fast. Blair keeps KOBing me: “You are an elusive problem. I want to ask you out for Fri but I’m afraid you won’t go you seem so noncommittal.” He is a slow boy to get the point.
Classes grim. In history Mr. Beedwell keeps telling me not to speak in wide terms. Unfortunately I THINK in wide terms. Synthesis and analogy are my arts. In public speaking I burst into tears Mr. Thornton is so mean. Very humiliating for a future actress.
On top of all this I’ve been elected Vice-President of the Junior class! Girls are not allowed to be president – it would upset the boys and we know they’re so fragile. (That’s why they’re out every day on the Golden Fields of Autumn trying to kill each other.) President is Shawn Kobler.
Alysse Aallyn 
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