11:45 AM Sun 1 May 77
Keith softened me up by calling to ask if I’d been in
his office. He smelled my perfume. (I hadn’t.) Agreed to go out with him
Sat night. Just awful. Awful. Keep wishing he was literally ANYONE
else. Dating someone who doesn’t interest you sexually is like trying
to diet by ordering food you dislike. (I actually tried this. Ordered tripe.)
Howlably stupid. Yet no one to howl to.
R. says he’d “hate” to think I “needed” him and didn’t
call. Am I the stupid one here? I think so. Sucker for punishment. Upstairs,
Downstairs cheers me up a little. Considering renting little house in the
wilds of Virginia. Or garden apt. utilities included. Dogs would like it –
close to clubs. Read Eliz Savage’s Good Confession – very minor.
Cleaning. Laundry, dishes, garbage.
Thinking about Sylvia Plath and the problem of panic
attacks. It’s all about learning to steer into the skid.
Wed May 4 – 77
Made illegal copies of novel at work, drove to Plush
Palace in Virginia to audition. (10 Mins down Rt 1 from Woodrow
Wilson bridge. 1 HR commute). VA pays better, mandates pasties
& stockings, Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco & Firearms (I’m not kidding)
makes sure you don’t sit with or talk to clientele. Amen! I was hired
immediately $90 day plus tips. So pleased. Got a car appt Fri 13th
so El Diablo won’t die on Beltway. Working Thurs, Fr. Sat and there’s
no holdback, they pay you immediately. Buy G-strings & pasties
Landover mall.
Avril says R “betrayed” me. But do you “betray” someone
by having a weak character? He can’t help it. A says he’s behaved
so badly there’s no hope for him. I think he can’t make up his mind –
he wants me only if I don’t want him. Plus if he finds out I’m dancing
again he’ll want to “convert” me. (He’ll think I’m doing it just to torture
him. I don’t plan to tell.) Gave A a copy of my novel to read – feeling
insane – got to get reaction from SOMEBODY. Broadcast asks me to
stay “on call” so Mr. Pierce has forgiven me or is desperate.
Plush Palace – 9 PM Fri 6 May 77
Very nice dressing room. Girl I’m dancing with (Darla) is just
awful. Find the comparison very cheering. A gobbled my novel up, says
it’s “deep” but “obsessive”; made me feel on right track. How much can
I torture my audience? I‘ve GOT to stop blubbering and start fantasizing.
Who CARES about the pathos of my existence? Make something up.
Sat. 7 May 77
House is mine! Everyone moved out. (A’s & Mason’s new
place just what they wanted – skyscraper urban nightmare.) Listening
to opera, reading NY Times, feeling like a Big Success. Dog across
my chest in blissful rapture. ($100 in tips last night!!!) R called to say
I “always have a place with him” and He “has never taken my heart
ring off”. Is he nuts or am I?
Realize for the first time he says things he KNOWS aren’t
true just to hear himself say them!! Just like the Victorians –
mouthing something is halfway there! Because you’re making an
effort! You could not imagine anyone more opposite from me. Hopeless,
hopeless, hopeless, as the rock musicians say.
Reading Bottle Factory Outing – so wonderful. (But liked
The Secret Glass better.) Trying to numb weird longings to write ghost
stories by eating chicken potpie (regression). Wrote first draft of a short
story about a grandmother telling her shocked granddaughter about
“the time I almost committed suicide”. Very matter of fact. Feel I’m
recovering from “mono-soul-iosis” – not just R but my first marriage,
Devon and everyone between. Shoulders asks to borrow lawnmower –
asked me if I want to watch him use it. (He knows he’s pretty.) I do.
7:15 PM 8 May 1977
Feeling much better, like I’ve passed a turning point. Wasn’t
sure how much I could trust myself in the past, but if I’ve come through
this, my core must be solid, instead of the jelly mass I fear. Sitting in my
far-from-clean study beneath my poster of Blake’s God & the Angels
enjoying an after dinner cup of coffee. Sanity returns. A. is coming tonight
to get her flokati rugs – that will make the downstairs look empty. Trying
to finish Household’s Courtesy of Death, so I can take all these silly books
to the library, dump them, and get a lifetime supply of Peter de Vries. The
only proven painkiller is laughter. My damn novel’s made a fool out of me.
Time to admit it.
3:15 PM 9 May 77
Called into Broadcast to sub for Loretta. Working on Devlyn
galleys. The main scary thing about this place is that no one works
here willingly. “Morale” is a poisonous miasma. Kind of like the
architects’ office.
Mom & Dad raise hell over A’s living with Mason. I thought
they were so worked up about “commitment”! Sharing an apt is a
commitment, isn’t it? Not according to them. Glad poor A is taking
the storm for once and not me. Couldn’t cope with them on top of
everything else. R. and I are trying to evolve into a “friendship”. It
sounds stupid but there has to be some third place between
attraction and avoidance because each of those is obsession.
When I ran this idea past R he said I was his “best friend”. This is
why he is so impossible to deal with. Best friend? He wouldn’t
treat a pet the way he’s treated me (the SPCA would come and get him.)
Speaking of Ryder, he just called. Finished my book,
found the Black Mass a little short otherwise liked it. Didn’t say a
word about “who’s Hank based on.” Thank God. He did ask who
the baby’s father is – I said even Nilssa doesn’t know. According
to R. I have “no problems”. (He doesn’t know about the dancing. If
he was REALLY my best friend I could tell him.) He says we have
the whole rest of our lives to talk. He’s uncannily good at saying
what I want to hear (unfortunately). Seeing him tonight. Take the bus
home, buy wine, wash & set my hair. If only we could get to the stage
where we no longer fear each other.
4:50 PM Tues 10 May 77
Well we’re not out of the woods yet but perhaps have
found a path. Last night was like losing my virginity all over again
– we were both so shy. Slept wrapped up and embracing. Many
compliments on my body (no tell-tale glitter in the bed.) He said he
was so upset by me breaking up with him at McDonald’s he can’t
go to any McD’s anymore. Pledges of love somewhat ruined by
an argument during breakfast about whether a novel can be “good”
if no one will buy it. Uh oh. I tried keeping it philosophical, not
giving historical examples he wouldn’t recognize (which would be
“one-upping”.) Finally stopped when he got a call from a “goofy
chick.” Should I be worried, I ask, and he says no. But I can’t avoid
the sinking feeling that I don’t dare hitch my wagon to anyone
so dependent on mass psychology – even as a friend – without losing my way
Alysse Aallyn 
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