Plumly School, Thurs. 14 Sept 67
Some damn bell went off at 6:55 and I propped open my frozen eyes stuck fast with wedding cake. Having a horrible sex dream about George Hamilton. Who was I really dreaming about?
“L’ombre parmi les ombres,
D’être cent fois plus ombre que l’ombre
D’être l’ombre qui viendra et reviendra…”
Just like old times staggering to the Tower and standing in line for a washbasin. This being a senior business hasn’t helped me so far. Feel as if I’ve been here for 400 years. If I had a diamond I’d scratch on the window: Quoth Alysse, ye Prisonniere” but the best I’ve got is an amethyst.
Come to think of it I could use my record needle. This is what geology teaches. Admit I enjoy senior stairs & bench in chapel.
Dressed in old clothes – everyone wearing new so I couldn’t possibly outclass them. Best approach is build up slowly. New black tweed dress a bit too classy for ordinary day plus the skirt will give Miss Womrath her well-deserved heart attack. Seems only Christian to toughen the old bird up slowly before we spring the scary stuff.
Miss Beeston wearing a LITERAL BEEHIVE (there’s something living in there) gave Collection but I forgot about my New Leaf and did not listen. I am sitting at Mrs. Kurtz’s table, which is very sad. She is the one who uses conversation cards and says We Must Hold Up Our End. Why, oh why? How can an eight-person dining table have so many ends? Can’t we take turns napping?
Right after Grace I thundered over to the coffee table for the Mississippi Mud that is due me. It isn’t good but we have to pretend – “holding up our end” for the wide-eyed freshman who think we are all hard-drinking sluts. (Hope we are.)
2nd cup of coffee who should I slam into but Reed! He is taller and much better looking. I could tell he knew it was me by the way his neck froze. I said Hi, he mumbled good morning and staggered away. He’s probably on drugs; that was always his Senior Plan. He’s doing his thesis on Aldous Huxley.
Saw my little bro last night but little sis has yet to make an appearance. Probably slashed her wrists when she discovered her family’s plans to inter her here. And who can blame her? It’s true the place is co-ed but the only thing worse than dating is not dating. All part of their clever plan to break our spirit. Sent my little bro a KOB full of cryptic quotes for him to puzzle over.
Aynsley & I had fun arranging our room. Looks less bad with tie-dyed bedspreads & Doors & Byrds posters. To everything there is a season…
Little sis showed up, I gave her a door sign with a big wicker fan chair saying “Meet Maris Wicker” on it. Seems a good kid. She is very musical.
Shawn said he had a great summer “spiritually.” Seems ominous. Dan is now saying he is in love with me, probably to keep me from dating. This is all my fault for playing footsie with him under the table when he had dinner at our house. His roommate asked him, “How much have you gotten?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing! And you’re snowed already!”
Junior Wells did the exact same show he did in Boston. At least he’s good to dance to.
Prospects? Only Kip’s face lights up when I sit beside him on Senior Bench.
Last night saw A Man and a Woman with Aynsley, her sister and her sister’s husband. It was just terrific! Music really gets under your skin!
“Samba without sadness is a wine that can’t get you drunk,” says Pierre Barouh.
Coffee afterwards with grads from Claudia’s year who have joined a cult called The Temple! They are sadly changed but think they are improved. I think if you look and act like you’ve had a lobotomy it is guaranteed not a good spiritual experience. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with Shawn. Must ask.
Sat. 16 Sept 67
Dr. Gilmour handed out axioms in philosophy and asked if they were true or false. Biff Withers & I are the only ones who said “true” to THE LAWS OF NATURE GOVERN EVERYTHING. I argued humans are “natural” ergo everything we think & do is “natural.” If there were Martians, they would be “natural” too. Screams all around. Dan says he is planning to sleep with me. I’m thinking about it. Aynsley says senior boys are Not Dating so I could be desperate. But things are getting a bit sticky with Casey, who should be “done” with Dan and also not caring because we haven’t technically “done” anything. She insists she doesn’t “want” him any more but she also insults my pride by saying he is only doing this because of her. To get back at her, I guess and I am too irritated to argue because anything I could say would only make things worse. I quote the Stones “Just tryin’ to make a connection” but she is not impressed.
Dan, Dan, Dan, what am I going to do about you? It’s nice having someone “care” even if they are far away. But…he sent me a bottle of 4711 and a Racing America t-shirt. I like good presents a lot more than Playboy cards or letters where he talks about what an “ideal couple” we will be the “great novelist and the great actress.” What if I want to write novels? I don’t like being typecast!
Speaking of connections I keep running into Shawn but I am waiting for him to make the first move (or I am guaranteed to disgrace myself.) Last night we had a Square Dance in the New Gym. Scavenger hunts (which we usually have) are more fun but I went anyway and lo and behold who should be there but Shawn. Reed looked in wearing his green plaid lumberjack coat – then left. (Trying not to be insulted.) Shawn was administering the ice cream table and I helped him, fantasizing about a pleasant, emotionally uninvolved yet friendly year. He tried to talk to me but faculty members kept coming up – it just wasn’t a good scene. Still I didn’t like his “air”. Felt repressive. He COULD send me a KOB and he hasn’t so I should read the writing on the wall and slip away. Stuck with Kip whose deep doggy eyes scare me. He is very smart; tall enough, a little on the thin side, handsome, blond – it ought to be cool. But there is a weirdness about him I feel screams “danger.” Could be I am seeing the reflection of my own weirdness in his eyes! Aren’t we in trouble then!
Constant interruptions from underclassmen bringing in their door signs for my signature – making this hard to write. Think authors should remain unknown.
Also spent all morning taking “Gramm’s tests” I think they are called which are horrendous “right answer” tests where you have to display, among other things, your knowledge of “correct” tennis court construction! This literally makes me foam at the mouth. It has nothing whatever to do with intelligence and really tests how meek, unquestioning and malleable you are. Shudder. Aynsley tells me not to get hysterical, give them what they want. If I gave them what they want would I be virgo intacta after all these months?
Moving letter from Merrill about Mom, very wise and forgiving. She sets such high standards for herself, if we fall short she blames herself. Then why is she mean to us? Feels babyish to me but I get that Merrill is being understanding and generous. The more you love someone the more you want to struggle with them in my experience. Being “forgiven” is totally the kiss of death.
Reading Kafka’s The Castle. Mann calls him a “religious humorist” which seems all wrong to me. This is a bureaucracy allegory.
It’s now 2:30 and we seniors must rehearse our skit for Camp Suppers this evening. We are doing Ali Baba and the 40 thieves. Aujourd’hui c’est toi.
Poem from Dan-
Words Are Such Liars
Sitting on the roof
The other night
wind ruffled my memories
made my eyes wet.
Trying to write a poem
Definition destroys delight.
Could speech ease the pressing thing within me
Bridge the distance
Or should I bribe the silent future
Touch your silken skin & hair?
This is the poem that made Casey cry. I tried to tell her one cannot feel
complimented by a very bad poem.
Sun 17 Sept 67 – 11 PM
Definitely one of the worst days of my life. A sick, sad, whipped feeling. Feel like I may “give in” to Dan and say I love him if he wants me to say it. Evicted from tennis. Heard that “trying to be friendly” with Reed means “I want him back”. Says everyone. I can’t totally deny it. Do I? Depends how he acts! On everything! People being real for two seconds at a time!
Sat night I sent him his Blues Project record back with short KOB.
“You can call me from a snow white, starlit stairway
I may hear and not be far away at all
But the sounds of our winter’s love at night time
They have vanished…they have silenced…” (Steve’s song)
In chapel I sat directly across from Shawn on the Facing Bench. He looked so smugly beautiful, so big, magnificent and male. He has a perfect profile. Raincoat over pajamas, I sat muttering in my own filth. Picking my face. Boredom like an anguish. Back at the dorm Dan calls, tried to make me jealous with all the girls he took out this weekend, want to come next weekend. Here! I babbled that would be way too hard for me. Blaming Casey would be the easy way out. I don’t know what to do. I’ll have to take a sleepover.
Read Blues for Mister Charlie. It ripped me up inside but we can’t perform it – write a “white” version? Possibly.
Realized I am not a leader. Listening to them babble about rules and administration at senior play meeting in the library I see why Shawn and I can’t converse. I even hate team sports, so my loathing of the group dynamic runs deep. I used to be a Transcendentalist but now I think I am an anarchist. Shawn wanted to talk afterwards. I asked why he’s avoiding me! Said he’d met a girl this summer who showed how superficial our relationship had been! I flinch when he and Reed use exactly the same words about me!!! I know they’ve been talking!!! I asked him if a man feels like a success to himself but everyone else thinks he’s a failure, what is he?
Shawn says “a success.”
But if a girl thinks she’s not a bitch and everyone else thinks she is…
“She’s a bitch.” He says.
I cry unfair! Said I was sorry for the impression he has of me but I couldn’t correct it.
He said, “What impression do I have of you?”
Fortunately I was crying too hard to even ATTEMPT to answer that question.
Tonight a “Thank you – buzz off” KOB from Reed!
I should feel better “having” Dan, says Aynsley. But I don’t “have” him. People don’t have other people (especially me and Dan.) Made myself feel better by buying a Thanksgiving dress from McKenzie. $5. Barely used. Short, black velvet with exotic lace sleeves. Seemed more like “Dan’s dress” than mine; a weird experience of looking at myself from the outside-in – triggered by Shawn’s sarcastic, cruel expression. At least Dan doesn’t mind when I cry around him – if that’s how life makes me feel. Depend on NY Times & tea to right all wrongs.
Casey talking angrily about me with the other girls. Miss Beeston insists, “You are what you seem.” That can’t be true. I know Thoreau & Emerson are on my side.
Alysse Aallyn 
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