Ha! I've missed two nights writing. Imagine that. One
night I was tired, the other I was busy. More about that later. Maybe. I'm not
structured anymore. Free, that's what I am.
Well, I should talk or write about that. Why? For the
simple reason that there's nothing else to write about. Suffice it to say that
Beth and I are " back together again." She called me up about eight
this past evening and said she wanted to talk to me. I had no idea of what it
was all about. Steve had told me that he had seen her earlier and she had told
him she wanted to talk to me about our relationship. I didn't expect her to
call me though. That was a surprise. I went down to her dorm room, number 703
in Verducci Hall. She greeted me warmly, sat me down, and we talked. About our
relationship. About why I haven't called her since we watched Shogun
together. About how she had fallen in love between then and now, but now that
was over-by now she was close to tears. About how she wanted to know where we
stood, if it was in a position that we could go out together. About her
affection for me, despite the fact as she said that she had been cool to me
during her recent liaison. (Truthfully, I had no recollection of her being cool
to me. She cited an example when she didn't return my hello, but I don't
remember that at all. And I think, nay, I'm sure, that that would be the sort
of thing. I would remember.) While she was telling me all this, I sat there
saying nothing. I nodded once in a while to show her I was listening-which I
was, obviously. When she had finished, I told her that I had a hard and busy schedule
this semester, but this semester would soon be over and it wouldn't be so busy
the next semester. I told her I did want to see her. It seemed okay. So our
conversation then turned to more light and mundane matters. At one point, I
picked up her guitar and started to demonstrate my new-found ability to play
some Beatles songs. She had a Beatles songbook from the 1967-1970 period, with
arrangements identical to the songbook that I bought a couple weeks ago at the
Beatles convention. I played Rocky Raccoon, the song I best knew how to
play, and she tried to join me on flute or recorder for Fool on the Hill.
Next I played Hey Jude, and after that I am the Walrus. By this
time she had arisen from the bed, where we had been sitting together, and had
opened her window and was looking out into the night. I took this as a cue that
I was probably paying her too little attention, but I had to wait till I
finished the song I was playing, because who knows what women think, but I'm
not going to let it get the best of me. But after I finished playing, I joined
her at the window. She smelled the same as she always did-that sweet perfume-y
but utterly Beth-y the smell I remembered from when we first met a year ago. (I
wonder what my "signature" odor is?) At the window he talked about
astronomy, and war vs. Peace, and soon it got cold and we moved back to the bed
and sat down together. By this time it was close to 11 PM and I began worrying
to myself that I might miss the last chance showing of Holy Grail on KQED. As
it turned out, I missed all of the movie and then some. I was sure she wanted
me to cuddle her, but I didn't anyway. Why not? I have no idea areas. Lack of
confidence? Maybe-earlier she gave me a brief lecture about confidence:
specifically, that I must learn to find some. She told me they would be better
to see each other non-exclusively-in case either of us met someone else. Did I
take that opportunity to reply that this was the main reason for my not
contacting her over the 15 months that we've known each other? That would have
been the most honest thing that I ever told her. But I chickened out, and said
nothing. In time, I told her that the room was a bit chilly (temperature-wise)
and we snuggled up together. After dipping here and there, touching and trying
to find a comfortable place to touch, we settled down on her bed and slept
together. Or to be more accurate, we fell asleep together. No sex, just
sleeping. That was still a first for me. I can now honestly say that I've
"slept” with a lady. ("What's it like?"). We slept until 2:20
a.m. Her roommate, Cathy, had not returned while we were sleeping, and as I was
scrambling out Beth wondered aloud where she was.
So I have her back again. What am I going to do now?
Treat her like before? (I already feel
that I should have called her by now today, and I still might, should,
tonight.) Or take her out? I think that I should take advantage of yet another
reprieve. Yet, despite my feelings to the contrary a year ago October, I don't
think she is ready to have sex with me yet. I've wondered that for months now,
and maybe it's time I found out. I should see her over Christmas. While we were
nestling together last night, several thoughts came to me: if my friends could
see me now, particularly my non-San Francisco State friends. Eat your heart
out, world. Another thought: ahhh I forget now. Give me a few minutes.
I got a letter from Sally R yesterday. A card,
actually. In her previous letter she said she'll be coming back from Iowa to
visit the Bay Area over the holidays. So in my last letter I asked if we could
see each other (I think my exact words were something to the effect of we could
play beautiful music together-literally, on flute and guitar). So in the card I
got today, she said that she would be here in California from December 22 to
January 2 or somewhere around that time. She said she would be spending most of
her time with her parents live in Danville, but she would also be spending a
lot of time in San Francisco, and she would like to get together with me. So I
may have misinterpreted her that time in class when she told our TA Loretta
that she had a boyfriend. She must've meant a friend who is a boy. If she has a
lover-type boyfriend, he's apparently in Sioux City, Iowa and not here. Her
card included her parents' phone number, and achieve wrote that I can call any
time. I assume that by any time, she meant between December 22 and January 2.
And I will call her between those dates. Does it mean something when a girl
that you've only talked to as a friend before, and then moves out of the state,
maintains a correspondence with you? I hope so. I wouldn't mind going to bed
with her in the slightest, but it wouldn't make a difference in how much I
enjoy her company if we never did. As long as there is somebody around who
wants to be with me, that's all that matters. I am no ass-chaser yet.
I think I remember what I was going to say earlier.
Another thought that crossed my mind while snuggling with Beth was this: I
noticed that the date was December 5, 1980. It reminded me of what had happened
exactly a year earlier, on December 5, 1979. That was the date of my second and
last date with Renée B, who will probably go down as is the most physically
attractive girl I ever went out with. Wasn't that a story? Was I not so utterly
depressed afterwards? Am I still now, 367 days later? Definitely. She wasn't
the girl for me, not in terms of personality and wealth of friends. That's what
she coolly told me that night in the bar. Later she was a little warmer on the way
to the disco. But afterwards, on our way home, I endured one of the darkest
moments of my romantic life. She saw something in me, definitely. Helen told me
that Renée found me cute and thin. One thing I often forget about that night is
that my left contact lens had a hole in it. (I had no idea of that until a few
weeks later, when I was getting ready to go to the Tom Paine-Tam drama reunion
at the Kovac's house.) So that night with Renée, I suffered a bloodshot and
irritated eye that ruined my dinner at the Casablanca that night, and to be
fair, it was the cause of discomfort even earlier at the bar, when Renée told
me that she saw me only as a friend. I don't recall that the bad lens-situation
had reached its peak yet at that time though. Another important occasion that
night was in the bar, while she was socializing all around the place, I drank
my first ever complete glass of alcohol (white wine). God, she was beautiful.
She split from me to smoke a joint with friends while I was working on the
wine. I was happy to finish the drink-alone-but I declined the waitress’ offer
of a refill. But as I said, December 5 was the night of our second date. Our
first date was a few weeks earlier on November 15. What a night that was! As
wonderful as the second date was woeful. The finest night of my romantic life.
I wrote in my notes the next day that no matter how our relationship worked
out, I will always treasure that night. Yes, the second date put a damper on
it, but today I can look back on that night, satisfied that I can entertain a
girl on a date regardless of whether she's gorgeous or not-so. I really was
upset December 6, 1979. I lost Renée and had rejected Beth. I also remember on
that second date that Renée gave me a lecture. She said I should know exactly
where a restaurant is before I take a date there. I said nothing back, but hey,
I didn't know where the Greenhouse restaurant was on the first date-did that
matter? Well, that part of my life is over. Or is it? I can call Renée at her
office if I want to. It's too long ago. She said a guy was coming in from
Chicago. She liked him and maybe they would get together. Helen told me the
three of us could get together over Christmas. So much goes on around me I
don't know about. Fuck you, Helen, you deserting, snitching bitch with your
Indian boyfriend. Married, I'll bet. Watch out for housewives, Helen. Watch out
for Helen, Liz.
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