February 1975 - June 1975
Age 17

"Jim got us the booze ... oh happiness! A whole huge bottle of delicious,
incredible, pine-tasting dry gin  ... "

Wednesday afternoon
February 26, 1975

Sitting here in 5th period Journalism. I'm so glad to have a new ledger ... I was starting to go crazy without one.

This has been an average, OK day. Rhonda, Lori & Karen all seem to be in semi- good moods, we're getting along all right.  However. We're all starting to sing the "I want to go to Prom" blues. Prom is April 26th, two whole months away, and I doubt that I'll get asked. Rhon, Lori and me went down to Southcenter last night, looking at formal dresses, and it became really depressing. I'd like to go to Prom - who wouldn't? - but it's not even that so much as I wish I could forget about Dean. My basic problem, I guess. For the first time in almost a year, I find myself sitting here without a boyfriend  ...  without any special guy even on my mind. It's a strange feeling, one that I'm not accustomed to ... but maybe it's a good idea. Maybe I should try hard to "guard my affections," as it says in Proverbs, and not get involved with anyone for a while. My heart needs the rest.

Sixth period: Rhonda is madly in love with Mike Faccone; yesterday we went to the bowling alley for an hour or so to watch him bowl. Mike Heater was there. I sat by him for a few minutes, and he's just as sweet as ever.

Karen: "Terri, are you mad at me?"
Terri: (languidly) "No, why?"
Karen: (in a huff) "Because you sure have been giving me the cold shoulder all day." (stalks off)
Debbie: "What's wrong with her?"
Terri: "Oh, I don't know ... she's just in one of those moods where she's feeling sorry for herself."


After school:

I feel like such an Edwina.  Terrispeak for "idiot."   I locked myself out of the house again, and it looks like the only thing I can do now is sit here on the front porch (freezing cold wind is blowing, tiny raindrops keep splashing down on this page) for an hour or two and wait for Dad to get home. How frustrating.

Oh well - at least it's keeping me out of the refrigerator. Look on the bright side, Terri.

Think I'll walk over to Grandma's.

Before bed
You're No Good

Thinking. I went to Bible Study tonight; it was OK, something to do. I spent a lot of time with Phil, as usual.

This is Dad's night off, so I'm up a little later than normal, listening to the radio and eating an apple, my clean wet hair wrapped in a towel. I feel so blah. Not bad, just kind of empty & emotionless. Flat. It just feels so strange not to have someone special in my heart to love and to be thinking about. Terri V without a boyfriend is like salt without pepper ... Jack without Jill ... night without day. I feel like a part of me is missing, somehow. Poor Terri.

See ya tomorrow, Ledger.


Thursday afternoon
February 27, 1975

"The No No Song"


Sitting here on my bed, listening to the radio, reading a letter from Dee Dee, contemplating the possibility of cleaning my room.  Average day ... we got our Tolo pictures, and I could feel my heart twinge when Dean came up to me at my locker and gave them to me ("I've got a present for ya"). Rhonda and I went and drove around during lunch,  just "cruising."  Cloudy, gray weather. I couldn't shut up this afternoon: I talked and talked and talked, to anyone who came into the Career Planning office. After school I went to Grandma and Grandpa's for a little while to wash some clothes. Thrills.

I feel like life is just drifting by, and I'm drifting along with it.

A momento of one of the worst nights of my life

6:40 p.m.
My Eyes Adored You

Just broke ANOTHER light bulb ... that's about the sixth one this month. Sitting here in the dusk, munching a crisp pear, laying flat on my back staring at the ceiling. Music flooding my soul. Tomorrow is the big game against Interlake ...



Friday afternoon
February 28, 1975


Sitting here in my room, listening to the radio ... almost time to take my shower and start getting ready for the big basketball game tonight. I'm determined to go and have a good time.  Lori's older brother Tony is going to drive Rhon, Lori and me to the game, afterwards we'll all probably go to Herfy's. I hope something good happens tonight.

Before bed:

A lot of neat-o things happened tonight, but I'm exhausted. So I think I'll hit the sack and write about it all tomorrow, OK? Going to bed in a good frame of mind. GLACIER BEAT INTERLAKE!!!!!! That means we tackle another super-power tomorrow night ... the Kentridge Chargers. That ought to be some game.

Sleeping in tomorrow sounds absolutely divine.



Saturday morning
March 1, 1975

Don't Call Us

I love Saturday mornings when I'm in a good frame of mind. So many things I could accomplish today ... but content with the knowledge that there would be nothing wrong with just spending the day sitting doing nothing. A cloudy, gray, cold day. I have the whole house to myself - I could scream and shout, sing in my terrible voice at the top of my lungs, play records top blast, and no one would be around to hear.

About the game last night. I was just a little bit drunk when Rhonda came and picked me up at 7:00, so I couldn't shut up ... I was super-excited. We drove over to Lori's house, and while Tony finished drying his hair we sat in the living room and talked. The ride to the game was HILARIOUS. The game was terrific, we were ahead all the way, and when we won everyone jumped up and down, screaming and hugging each other with joy. I've never been that enthusiastic at a game before. Afterwards, the ride home was so funny. Ben kept hanging out the window and waving at the passing cars. We went to Herfy's, which was jammed with people of course, and I had a good time talking to a lot of guys. There's another game tonight, and Rhonda said she'd call.  So far she hasn't, though.  I hope I get to go.

We got our income tax refund check today ... maybe I can go shopping and get my new clothes tomorrow!!

I should go wash my hair. If something comes up tonight, I want to be ready!

Later (before bed)
Very drunk

Oh Ledger, I'm so glad to find you. I'm so roaring drunk I don't know what I'm writing or saying, but the need and compulsion to write in you is just so great that I have to de-fuzz my brain long enough to jot down a word or sentence or two or so. I didn't mean to get so fucked up tonight. If I wouldn't known that such a small amount of straight vodka would rip me up so much, I wouldn't have had so much. I've been drunk for about 7 hours now and I can't seem to sky down. I keep calling Clarence - he wants me to call him tomorrow! Hmmmm. There weren't all that many people at Herfy's, but I was so glad to see Mike H. when he walked in & held my hand and


(Next couple of pages are ripped out: the narrative continues the next morning)


I was so drunk that I accidentally dialed 246-8835 instead of Rhonda's number. A guy answered the phone - he sounded familiar - and I said something like, "Oops, wrong number."  The guy must have recognized my voice or something because he said, "Is this Terri Vert?"   I was so shocked when he said, "Terri, it's me  ...  this is Clarence!"   I must have dialed his number subconsciously.  It was so much fun talking to him, I ended up calling him about 5 times, and he was so sweet every time we talked!!  We talked about so many things, and he said he'd call me today ... I won't comment on that until I see what happens. Mike said he'd call today, too, but I'm scared to answer the phone in case it's Dick, Dave, Phil, etc. ... any of the people who probably hate my guts right now.


I went to church this morning - sat by Phil - and now I feel a lot better. Better frame of mind, that is. Laying around in the living room with Dad, reading "Ethnic Jokes," drinking Pepsi, watching dumb movies on TV. Clarence called today, we talked for about a half hour, about anything & everything. He's as negative and mixed-up as ever, but at least we're friends again.  Mike hasn't called yet ... I kinda wish he would. I'm not sure how I feel about him, and frankly I don't feel like trying to figure it out. I'm going to just sit back and let it happen, let the feelings develop. If they don't, fine - if they do, fine. Fine, fine, fine.

Before Bed
Mother & Child Reunion

I'm so tired, I can barely keep my eyes open ... bet I have a tough time getting up tomorrow morning.

Mike called me tonight from work. Suddenly, hearing his voice, I realized how very un-thrilled I was with the idea of liking him. I JUST DON'T WANT A BOYFRIEND RIGHT NOW!!  Strange, but true. It must have been all that vodka last night, affecting my brain & making me think I liked him so much.

I could stay home tomorrow and do my shopping at Southcenter if I wanted to. Haven't made up my mind yet. Think I'll go to bed. Goodnight!





Monday evening
March 3, 1975


Mike called me about an hour ago, but I didn't feel like talking to anyone on the phone so I had Dad tell him I wasn't home. Sun is going down ... sitting here in my room, thinking. Mike Davidson called, too, and he said that there's an opening for a counselor's position at a summer camp for retarded kids. Sounds interesting, especially since that's what I want to do as a career.  Must think on it.



Tuesday afternoon
March 4, 1975


Rhonda and I drove over to the bowling alley after school to watch the school bowling league. Mike wasn't there, and I was relieved.  One neat thing did happen, though: Rick Hanley, secret guy of my dreams, walked over to us out of the clear blue sky and started talking to me like we'd been friends for years. I was SO STUNNED!  He asked me how the party last weekend was, and I said "Fine - what little I remember of it."  He's so neat, but he probably thinks I like Mike now. Damn.

Some guy named Ernie asked me to go to the Led Zeppelin concert with him.  Scott Kelly walked with me to my locker after school.  Hmmm. Kevin Lanning pinched me today on the butt. What nerve. And when Ben walked past me, he slapped me on the rear and said, "There's my girl!" ??? What is it with my rear end all of a sudden?? Any more interesting encounters with guys ... ? Oh yeah, when Stacy and I were walking back to class from the library, Doug Lumbard and a bunch of his snooty friends were sitting on the benches outside, and Doug said "How about her right there, Terri Vert?" in a really loud voice, pointing at me. I HATE him.

Before bed
Black Water

Mike called me tonight. Our conversation was dull and strained, but it had its moments: he asked me out this Saturday night, but I don't know. My Great-Grandma Torgrimson passed away this morning, and Mom wants me to drive to Wenatchee with them on Saturday and attend the funeral. So I don't know if I'll be home in time. Family duty prevails!

I DON'T LIKE MIKE ... not as a boyfriend, anyway. Don't I wish that Rick Hanley would notice me, though?!?!



Wednesday evening
March 5, 1975

Movin' On

Listening to the radio. Thinking. Today during the 10 minute break, Robin and I were walking into the cafeteria to go talk to Lori. I saw Rick sitting near the door, and my heart started going bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-bam .  I was afraid to even look at him. Just as we were walking past him, he said "Hi TERRI." I turned around (acting "surprised") and said "Oh, HI," giving him my big fakey smile.

During lunch Karen and I snooped around in the office and found his class schedule.



Thursday evening
March 6, 1975

Sitting here in the living room with Dad, watching a basketball game on TV, waiting for the rest of my cookies to bake. I feel very fat tonight. My diet, which flourished for a week, has flopped. I keep saying "Tomorrow I'll start all over again," but tonight I eat pizza, cookies, potato chips, strawberry ice cream ... I feel like a blimp.

I saw Rick a couple of times today - never got a chance to talk, though.

8:15 p.m.
Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds

A few minutes ago, just as I was stepping out of the shower, the phone rang. I answered it, expecting it to be Mom or Mike or somebody equally mundane.  It was SCOTT KELLY!   He asked me for Karen's phone number ("I've gotta talk to her about something important," he said) and then asked me what I'm doing tomorrow night!!!!!!!!!!!!!   I can't believe it ... Scott Kelly, last year's class president, called me. ME!  He said that he'd call back in a little while, and I'll bet that he does ... if Karen doesn't beat him to it. (Her line is busy: she must be talking to him.) I've got to try and stay CALM and COLLECTED.

Karen just called me. HE LIKES ME!!  He called me again, too. I'm just too excited to write about it now.

10:00 p.m. and I'm still up, watching TV. My eyelids are starting to droop, but excitement is keeping me wide awake. I just can't believe it. Two weeks ago I was feeling lower than hell, wondering if any guy would ever like me again ...





Friday evening 6:45 p.m.  ~ Drunk
March 7, 1975

It seems like I spend half my life drunk. Maybe even 3/4. I'm kinda flipped right now ... just a little vodka. Waiting for Rhonda, Lori and Robin to come and whisk me off to the basketball game. More later when I've sobered up, OK? Okee dokee artichokee.




Saturday afternoon
March 8, 1975

I felt so good all day today. It's funny - I could almost swear I've been tripped, but I know I couldn't possibly!  It's hard to explain ... I just have that tingling, excited, kind of dizzy feeling I used to get last year when I dropped speed. It feels neat. It also has provided me with astonishing energy ... I did the dishes, cleaned the kitchen stove, swept the floor, ironed Dad's shirt, vacuumed the living room rug, typed a Softletter (for April 27), washed my hair. Now I feel like sitting and staring off into space, enjoying this strange feeling.

Thank goodness I didn't wake up this morning with a hangover.

I don't know yet what I'm doing tonight.  I hope something good comes up.


6:45 p.m.

No one has called me yet, but I went ahead and got all dressed and made-up anyway, in case something does come up.  Dad's talking to Carol on the phone right now - maybe someone's trying to get through. I wish Scott would call. Fat chance.


7:45 p.m., drunk

I'm still sitting here alone, and I HATE it. I feel like an old spinster or something. To make things a little better, I fixed myself a drink of vodka mixed with Collins mixer. Just that one drink, swallowed in a record time of about one minute, has made me feel really terrific in spite of the cruddy evening I'm having. Now I'm currently in the process of drinking a little bit of wine mixed with Pepsi. It tastes rotten but it keeps me floating.

I tried to call Mike, but he wasn't home. Hmmmm. Then I called Rick H. to ask him where Mike was, but his mom said he's not home. Sure - everybody's out having a good time but me. I wish this goddamned phone would ring.

9:15 p.m.

Well, it's hard for me to believe, but I've actually been stood up. Mike's mom said that he "went out somewhere with Kenny." Isn't that nice. We had a date tonight!  As for Scott, he's over at Steve Peterson's.. Rhonda never did call, either ... I knew she wouldn't. Terri Vert feels very unloved.




Sunday morning
March 9, 1975

I just woke up, feeling hot and sticky and sweaty and groggy. Every time I think about all the dumb phone calls I made last night, I could just crawl into a hole and die. I just can't believe that everyone would simply forget about me like that.

Before Bed:

Amazing day. Dad & I went and drove around for a while this morning ... we were both depressed and needed a little change of scenery. I bought "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" by Elton John, at Leslie's.

When I got home and was laying on my bed, listening to my new album, Scott Kelly called and asked if he could come over!  I was totally shocked, but I said "Sure."  He came over and stayed for about two hours. We walked down to Albertsons so I could buy some sinus medicine, then we stood in my kitchen and talked about everything. I scraped up the nerve to ask him to go to Grub Tolo with me, he seemed to really like the idea.

I can't figure him out. He hinted around a lot about asking me out & liking me, but it's hard to read between the lines and figure out how he really feels. He called me again tonight, but I was tired and told Dad to tell him I wasn't home.

I talked to Mike tonight. He said he "forgot" about our date last night, and he sounded so sincerely apologetic that I said it was OK. Somehow we got onto the subject of Debbie, his ex-girlfriend, and he came out and told me that he still hasn't "completely" broken up with her. He said that he's "super confused" because he likes both of us and doesn't know what to do. I kept trying to reassure him that it's OK, I understand, and that I'm NOT MAD. After all, look at me ... I don't really know who I like, either.  He and I are in the same boat here.

I have a throbbing headache, and I'm so incredibly tired, and I can't make any decisions concerning anything right now. I'll just have to muddle through as best I can.



Tuesday evening 5:39 p.m.
March 11, 1975

Give It Time

Yesterday Scott talked to Karen between classes.  He asked her if it's true that I like Rick.  Karen said, "That's dying very quickly," and Scott looked relieved. Then he said, "Well, do you know who she does like?" They were both leaning against the wall, and Karen just smiled and gave him a little sock in the jaw, as if to say "You lucky dog!" According to her, he smiled real big and looked happy.

Last night was Dad's night off, and at about 7:30 I heard a knock at the door ... it was Scott!  We sat on the couch and watched TV for a couple of hours, and it was kinda neat. He started out by putting his hand on my shoulder, and then gradually ended up with his arm around me. He kissed me a few times ... no big thrill.  (As I recall he was big on French kissing, which I hadn't learned to like yet.)  He asked me to go to Todd's with him this Friday night, which sounds like fun. He said they'll probably have a case of beer, but they might be able to get a fifth of vodka (my favorite) just for me. Gee whiz, how thoughtful. He walked me to a bunch of my classes, sat by me at lunch, etc.

Right now I'm sitting here in my clean (!!) bedroom, listening to a BTO album and trying to plan my evening. Scott said he would call, and he'll probably want to come over. I've got a LOT to do ... I'm a wreck!

Before bed:

Scott called at about 6:30 and asked me to go to the Wrestling & Swimming Awards Dessert at school with him and his mom. It was pretty fun (Dean was there with his mother, who kept throwing invisible hate bombs in my direction all evening), but Ledger, what am I going to do? I DON'T WANT TO GET INVOLVED WITH HIM.

10:55 p.m.
Up In A Puff Of Smoke

I'm still awake ... I can't sleep. I wrote my penpal Dee Dee a letter, looked through last year's annual for pictures of Scott, and now I'm just sitting here staring vacantly off into space. So much to think about. Scott's going to come and pick me up tomorrow morning again, so I'll probably have to get up at 6:00 to be ready in time. I'll never make it.

I wish I could figure out how I feel about him. I'm no dummy ... I know that he's one of the world's biggest flirts, and that we're not destined to be together for very long. That's probably why I don't want to become emotionally involved.




Wednesday afternoon 3:00 p.m.
March 12, 1975

Stay With Me

Cold, rainy, windy day. Karen's coming over in a few minutes.

Before bed
Long Tall Glasses

I'm so tired, I can't even keep my eyes open. A couple of hours ago I layed down for a "quickie nap," and the next thing I knew it was 8:30 and Dad was getting ready for bed! Now I'm sitting here in my warm, clean, cozy bedroom, listening to soft music on the radio and drinking a Pepsi.

Scott never called tonight, hmmm. Trying not to worry, because worrying would mean involvement, and I'm trying to avoid THAT at all costs. I'm LIVING for this weekend and the party at Todd's house on Friday night - 48 hours from now. I hope nothing happens to spoil it.

Can't think of anything else to say, so I'll close. Goodnight!




March 13, 1975
Thursday afternoon


Fairly good day, had it's share of ups and downs. Debbie Kimmel and I are supposed to go to the junior class play tonight, but I'm so tired that I would rather spend a quiet evening at home, maybe with Scott .... ? Depends on whether or not he calls me.

Before bed:

Well. Scott came over tonight, and he was super-sweet. He said he wants me to go to the Led Zeppelin concert with him and his friends on Monday night. Good. He said a lot of other sweet things too ... we laid on my bed together, with the lights turned off, listening to "background rock" on KISW-FM. There wasn't a whole lot of heavy making out, which was a relief ... we just lay there in each others' arms, talking about drugs and drinking and stuff like that. He wants to get me a hit of windowpane,  and I don't know why, but I really DO want to try it. The way he was describing the high made it sound super-neat. I can hardly wait! The only problem is, I'm not sure how I feel about Scott. Sure, he's absolutely gorgeous, every girl's dream ... but is he the right guy for me?  Am I making another big mistake?




Saturday afternoon
March 15, 1975

I dropped acid last night, for the first time in my life ... I can hardly believe it.  We  were at Dale's house watching TV when Scott asked me if I wanted to drop some windowpane.  I had been expecting it: I knew Scott had bought a couple of hits, so I had an idea he was going to offer some to me.  It was totally unlike anything I'd expected -- in fact, I was a little disappointed. I think I expected to be transported off to an incredibly complex & beautiful fantasy world, to see all the sights in the universe ... when in reality it turned out to be nothing more than a big "thinking trip."




Tuesday evening
March 18, 1975

I could just die. I could just DIE.  I COULD JUST DIE.

I'm so horribly, crushingly, nauseatingly miserable, I wish I could crawl into a hole somewhere and end it all. I feel like an utter fool. I went to the Led Zeppelin concert last night, and I ended up so drunk that I passed out and Scott had to carry me around everywhere. I guess I threw up on everything (and everybody) too, including myself and the inside of my purse, which I then left behind at the Coliseum with all my makeup and pictures in it.  

I don't remember anything about the concert.  

I didn't go to school today - I felt like shit - but Rhonda and Karen both called tonight and told me "it's all over the school." SHIT. Scott hasn't called - his mom said he's "at the bank," and that she'll have him call me as soon as he gets home.  I imagine he's probably mad as hell at me. This is enough to make me quit drinking forever!  No it isn't.  It'll be another 23 years before you finally start learning from negative consequences.

How on earth am I ever going to be able to face everybody at school?? I feel like such an idiot. Karen said she heard that Scott only got to see half the concert. I'll bet I never go to another concert with him, ever again, and frankly I guess I can't blame him. The thing that really scares the hell out of me is that I can't remember a THING. Total blank.

What should I say to him when (IF) he calls? Should I apologize? Or ask him if he's mad? Or what? Is this the end of our relationship? The hands of the clock seem to have stopped completely. It's already been half an hour since I talked to Mrs. Kelly, and the phone is still silent and foreboding. I wish he would call ... I want to hurry up and get it over with. I feel like I'm preparing for a gunfight against Billy the Kid or Quick Draw McGraw. That's how optimistic I am (or rather, am not). Phone, please ring before I have a nervous breakdown ...

6:10 p.m. 

An hour now, and the phone is still as good as dead. I have this sick feeling in my heart that his mom probably gave him the message but he's so ticked & disgusted with me that he doesn't even want to talk to me. God, what do I do??? How do I live this down??? I just gave in to a childish impulse and dialed his number ... he answered the phone. Well, that settles that: he hates me and doesn't want to call. Terrific.

More later:

I weakened ... I called him ... he's going to call me back "in a little while."




Wednesday afternoon
March 19, 1975

I went to the church and had a long talk with Tom. I asked him to help straighten me out. I'm so confused. Just who am I, anyway? What am I? Why do I do the things I do? Why am I so afraid to turn to God?

I saw Scott off & on at school, but he was still very casual ... 

Shit. He said he would call tonight, but I bet he doesn't. I'm not exactly depressed ... I'm just confused, because I can't figure myself out. I wish I could run away somewhere and straighten my head out.





Thursday after school
March 20, 1975

Thoughts. Cold, pensive, Friday-afternoon-feeling although it's only Thursday (no school tomorrow). It doesn't take a genius to figure out what he meant by "I don't know." I asked him to tonight's Grub Tolo nearly two weeks ago, and today when I re-asked him about it before class, he handed me this "I don't know" business. He mumbled something about checking to see what Kevin & Steve are doing, and then said he'd call and let me know. Sure. Right.  So what am I going to do this weekend??  I feel really rotten ... I know that if he does call (one chance in a billion), he'll say "Sorry, but something else has come up."





Friday evening 7 p.m.
March 21, 1975

Oh boy. If I thought I was confused yesterday, that was nothing compared to tonight.

Rhonda and I went to the dance at school last night. (Scott never called.)  While I was dancing with Dale, I saw Scott walk in with some of his friends. I stayed calm and pretended I didn't see him. When the song was over, I went over and sat down on the bleachers with Rhon. Scott & his friends were sitting three rows above us, and after a couple of minutes it felt like they were throwing little things at me, to get my attention. I ignored it. Suddenly, WHAM, they threw a COAT on me, which landed on my shoulders. I looked up at them, and Scott was smiling this big smile. "Come HERE!" he commanded. I didn't have the faintest idea what to expect, but I climbed up to where they were sitting and sat down next to him. To make a long story short ... he acted like nothing had ever been wrong between us. He kept hugging me, holding my hand, kissing my cheek ... and we danced, a few fast dances and a couple of soft and romantic slow ones as well. I was utterly confused, but I went along without question. I thought at first that maybe he was drunk -- Dave and Dale were -- but he swore up and down that he wasn't, and since he didn't smell like booze I was finally convinced. I just couldn't figure out why he was being so nice to me. After the dance he took off with his friends, and Rhonda drove me home, but then he drove over to my house just as I was unlocking my front door.

Now it's Friday evening. I've spent nearly two hours getting dressed, fixing my hair, putting on makeup, etc., and I look great. I'm sitting here on my bed - the clock reads 7:34 - and so far he hasn't called. I've got the feeling he won't.

Rhonda said something to me last night when we were driving home that really hit my heart. "Terri, do you want to do me a favor?" she said. "Forget about Scott."  She said that she's worried about the way he's using me. "He's only making a fool out of you, and I don't trust him," she said.  I wonder if she's right.




Saturday evening 6:50 p.m.
March 22, 1975

Have You Never Been Mellow

Well, he never called last night ... I knew he wouldn't. And now here I am, 24 hours later, sitting here in my room doing the exact same thing as last night - sitting here in my room, waiting for someone to call. Tonight, though, I'm going to DO something. I refuse to just sit here at home, bored stiff and lonely.

Before bed
11:30 p.m.

He never called. That's it. I've had it. I'm so damned mad at the whole world - the male race in particular - that I simply don't care anymore.





Wednesday night
March 26, 1975

Tubular Bells

This has been a confusing week.  Today I came to school with a clean, brave feeling in my heart. I said to myself, "I'm over him. I'm not hung up on him anymore. We're just friends. I'm in control."  But when he came over and sat by me during the ten minute break, and he put his hand on my leg as though nothing in the world were wrong, I melted all over again. He snapped his fingers and I came running.  He was high, of course. The only time he ever treats me like his (choke, choke) girlfriend is when he's stoned. He and Dave dropped some Valium, whatever that is, and I guess it affected his brain enough to make him unusually affectionate. He sat by me at lunch - a shock in itself - and then we walked around, hand in hand.

I went to church tonight, and Dad said Scott called while I was gone. Damn! First time he's called in over a week, and I missed it.



Saturday afternoon
March 29, 1975

Bungle In The Jungle

Haven't had a chance to write this week - sorry!  Last night Rhonda and I went to the movies and saw "Young Frankenstein" at the Southcenter Theater. It was the most hilarious movie I've ever seen - Rhonda and me were practically rolling down the aisle, we were laughing so hard. Before she came and picked me up, Scott drove over with Kevin for a couple of minutes. I was still wearing a dress, which shocked the hell out of Scott!  We drove over to my mom's house to see if Dick was there ... he wasn't, so no P.H.  Scott and Kevin smoked a joint, but I wanted to stay level so I only had a couple tokes. I hate the stuff, anyway. When we got back to my house and pulled into the driveway, I started to get out but Scott grabbed my arm and said "Hey, don't I even get a goodnight kiss?" I was a little embarrassed with Kevin sitting in the back seat, but he obligingly turned away and let Scott and I have a moment of semi-privacy.

Today is a WORK day: housework up to my ears. I hope I see Scott tonight, though. Dad's having his friends over, so I've GOT to get out of the house.

Later (7:00 p.m.)
Candle In The Wind

Scott's going to come pick me up in a few minutes and take me to a party at Tracy's, but I'm already sauced enough to last forever. I don't understand why it only takes one tablespoon of liquor to space me completely.  Bye!

Baba O'Riley

Five minutes past the hour of seven ... no, six minutes ... and still no sign of Scott. I'm sure he'll show up or call, though. I have confidence. Thought I'd while away the minutes by writing in you, Ledg. The music is drifting through the house, I'm sitting here looking terrific, with my hair all curled and my makeup & clothes perfect. When Dad went out for a few minutes I snuck into his room and got some whiskey to put in my Coke. Tricky. I drank it slowly ... my horrid Led Zep experience taught me that I can't drink fast and get away with it - and now am I ever ploughed. I keep singing along with the record - this is a great song. (Love Ain't For Keeping.)

Wish Scott would call ... it's getting later every minute. (Duhhhh.) I'm gonna play this song again, I really like it now. Why did I hate it before?

More later:

Damn it! I wish he'd call me and let me know what's going on!!! I just called his house and he answered the phone, but I hung up really quick without saying anything.

Even more later:

Would you believe it's an hour & a half later? And  I'm beginning to feel perturbed?? I was (and still am) quite drunk, so, armed with unending liquid courage, I called him a few minutes ago. I made up this phony excuse about not being home, and he said that they were on their way to come pick me up. That was 21 minutes ago. Do I feel like a yo yo? Yes I do.

Quarter to nine.

Scott, what the fuck are you trying to prove?

9:00 p.m.

Boy, talk about being stood up. An hour ago he said he was "on his way," and HERE I SIT. I'm getting sober now, and I feel like crying. Why would he do this to me? Why would he purposely lie to me? Why would he want to hurt me like this? I feel like I've been slapped right across the face. The least he could do would be to call & let me know what's happened. I thought I heard a car door slam just now - but I'm just hearing things. Every time a car passes by I fly to the window, vain hope flooding my heart. (Mr. K. answers the phone now ... Scott isn't home.) Well ... it's happened again. He's done it to me again. I feel like an absolute

Car outside - is it???? Coming ---- knock --- YES!




Sunday (Easter) 1:00
March 30, 1975
Lady Marmalade

I went to the party last night with Scott. It was private  -- only about 20 people  --  and they had a full keg, so everyone was drinking a lot. I only had one glass of beer, which tasted like shit, but my head was buzzing so hard that when Scott said "Let's go downstairs," I went   ...   like an idiot. All I want to say about it is that it was like wrestling with an octopus: he was all arms and hands and fierce determination. Thank God I wasn't so far gone that I didn't know what was going on. I think he was pretty mad at me for resisting. He said, "What's wrong? Something must be wrong?" But I don't really give a fucking care.  I don't care WHAT he thinks of me anymore. He probably won't call me once during Spring Vacation next week, and I DON'T CARE. 

Actually I'm in a very good frame of mind, considering. Probably because I finally feel like I'm in control of the relationship now.



Tuesday 7 a.m.
April 1, 1975

Spring Vacation is dull, dull, dull. Dad has been staying home with the "flu" so I can't do anything. Everyone from church is on the retreat to Sechelt: wish I would've gone. Scott hasn't called in days, but do I care ... ? Damn it   ...  in a way, YES.


Went down to Southcenter with Rhonda today. We just walked around and did some window-shopping, and then we had lunch at Farrell's.  I'm so damned bored & frustrated, I could just scream. I'm about ready to run away from home. I have half a bottle of Canadian whiskey stashed in my closet ... maybe I'll get drunk in my room tonight. 

6:00 p.m.

Shelly dropped by for a sec with her boyfriend, David -- she wanted to know if I had some pot. I said "sorry, no" but gave her Kevin's phone number. Now I'm just sitting here in my room, watching TV and slowly sipping some Coke & whiskey. Nothing better to do. Maybe I'll get drunk enough to brainwash myself into thinking I'm having a good time. I've put on six pounds. Six miserable, fat, globby, ugly pounds. Ever since Dean broke up with me, I've been unable to keep my stupid head out of the damn refrigerator. As a result I feel like the circus Fat Woman. Guess I've gotta start dieting again, especially with summer right around the corner. The problem is that food is one of the few consolations I have left.





April 2, 1975

Another exciting day, ha ha. All I did was sit around & read a Victoria Holt novel. The phone didn't ring once the entire day, can you believe it? I have absolutely no one to talk to ... no one but you, Ledger. I do believe that everyone in the whole world has simply fallen off the face of the planet and left me here alone.

Before Bed:

Damn. Damn, damn, DAMN! Scott called at 6:30 and invited himself over, and like the idiot I am, I said "Sure." What kind of dummy am I? A glutton for punishment? He came over and we watched TV in the living room ... and, as usual, he was all over me. Fortunately he had to be home at 10:00, so that cut short any "ideas" he might have had. Shit. Every single time I convince myself that it's all over, he crawls back into my life. Too tired to yell at myself tonight - think I'll start a letter to Dee Dee and then hit the sack.




Thursday morning
April 3, 1975

Damn. The electricity in my room is out, and since Dad is at work, I haven't the vaguest notion how to fix it. That's not what's really bugging me, though. The thing I can't figure out is what's wrong with me?? Why do I keep hanging on?

Quietly peaceful afternoon. Feeling better than I have in days. Going to a party at Bob Trepanier's with Scott tonight.





Friday night
April 4, 1975

So tired I can't even keep my eyes open. Fairly happy. Scott's dad wouldn't let him go anywhere tonight, but I had a long talk with him on the phone. He sounded slightly more distant & reserved tonight, but maybe that was just because he was straight. I stayed home and watched TV with Dad until late, suti. *

* My secret code for "Slightly under the influence"




Saturday evening
7:00 p.m.

Doesn't look like Terri is going anywhere tonight. Shit. Scott hasn't called all day or all evening, and it's getting later & later. Even being suti doesn't help: I'm still boiling mad, underneath it all.





Sunday afternoon
April 6, 1975

Bright, sunshiny day. I feel like a fat recluse. I've GOT to lose some weight, somehow! I think I'll fast for a couple of days.

Before Bed:

I'm glad that we go back to school tomorrow ... at least I'll be in contact with people and won't feel so cut-off. Scott didn't call all weekend, and I'm beginning to get that same old "used" feeling. A continual up & down. Oh well ... I imagine that the next time he gets high - maybe tomorrow - he'll come running back and I'll welcome him with open arms.

I'm an idiot.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to finish off the last of my precious stash and go to school suti ... it'll help me get through the day. I wish D. would come through with that mesc!  Actually, what I REALLY wish I had was some speed, but I'm told that the supply is exhausted. Too bad. If my chance comes, though, I'll probably buy as many bags as I can afford and store them away for "future crises."

God, I sound like some kind of drug addict ... old and hard and desperate. I'm not, I'm really not!  Inside I'm still the same old Terri inside. I still desire love, I still need to feel people and nature and God all around me. I just can't figure out why I feel so empty inside. No, not empty   ...  emotionless.  Unfeeling. Concerning drugs and booze and sin, anyway. Not the slightest, tiniest shred of guilt, as though I were someone else standing to one side, watching me do these things. I feel unchanged. I feel the same as I always have. I've always been a very inward person, and drugs are a very inward sort of thing. Something I do for myself, not for anyone else. All the things I've heard and read about the "evils" of drugs seem to be just so much bullshit. Maybe they kill some people - the dumbbells who let chemicals become their whole existence - but not me. They won't control me like that. I'm in control. I'm not going to stop drinking or dropping, because it hasn't hurt me. It's something I want to do because I enjoy it. 

I don't know why I have to justify myself to you, Ledger. You understand already. So tired I can't even keep my eyes open.




Monday afternoon
April 7, 1975

I've been working hard & steadily ever since I got home an hour ago, and I've still barely made a dent in the housework. Have to stop and take a breather .... (gasp gasp) ... I feel absolutely on top of the world today. I don't know why - it must be spring fever. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and I feel like skipping and shouting and tossing daisies. I've gotta rush -- tons to do.  Later.

4:45 p.m.

Whew. All done! You should have seen me tear into that housework. I suddenly felt burning with an endless energy reserve. I washed and scrubbed and polished and dusted and swept and vacuumed, until I could hardly recognize the place.

This was some day. I don't understand this sudden feeling of happiness. I feel young and free and uninhibited. It must be the sunshine. It's affecting my brain!  I didn't even go to school drunk, either. Turns out I didn't need to!  No one could shut me up all day. Scott was super-super-attentive. I don't get it. He was all over me ... I mean, he had his arm around me walking to classes, stuff like that. Naturally that contributed to my good mood by making me feel wanted and loved, but ....

.... the main thing (person) on my mind is Rick Hanley.  Still!  I was walking to my locker before second period with Kar, and suddenly THERE HE WAS, on the other side of the hallway, talking to one of his friends.  I was so excited, and then suddenly he saw me and said, "Hi, Terri." I was absolutely on Cloud 9 for the rest of the day!!  Somehow, some way, I've got to let him know that I like him. I have a feeling that if he knew, maybe he'd start liking me too.

(I just had a horrible thought: what if he has a girlfriend?? Oh horror of horrors ...)

Before Bed:

Thinking about Rick, and Scott, and everything. This always seems to happen to me. I'll be going with one guy (in this case, Scott) but the guy I dream about is someone completely different (Rick). Think I'll take a shower and wash my hair, then go to bed. It's been a tiring day!




April 8, 1975

Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow! Ledger, you wouldn't, absolutely WOULD NOT believe this day!! I've finally forgotten about Scott (we all know that wasn't working out anyway) and I've found someone new. I feel so happy!! Yes, I'm talking about Rick. (Even writing his name makes me feel all goosebumpy and excited.) He knows I like him! Of course, I don't know how he feels, but I have a hunch that this may be another "beginning."

Two things happened yesterday, that I didn't even know about until today.

1. During lunch, Rick was in auto shop, busily working on someone's car. Several feet away a friend of mine, Mike M., was talking to a few of his buddies. Rick, though his back was turned to Mike & Co., was easily within hearing range and could hear every word. Mike casually said, "Hey, I was talking to Terri Vert this morning, she was telling me about her love life. Steve Goumaz said, "Oh? Who's she after this week?"  Mike said, nonchalantly, "I think she's kinda got the hots for Hanley."  CRASH!!!!!  At the mention of his name, Rick dropped his wrench onto the concrete floor. He never turned around, but he hastily bent down and picked it up, visibly surprised.

2. After school, Karen and Robin were standing in the hallway talking. Just then who should walk by but Ed Hruby - one of Rick's closest friends (and an ex-boyfriend of mine). Karen knew that I wanted the word to get around to Rick, so she seized the golden opportunity. As Ed was walking by, she turned to Robin and said in a loud voice, "DID YOU KNOW THAT TERRI LIKES RICK HANLEY?" Karen wasn't prepared for Ed's reaction: he whirled around with a stunned look and yelled "ARE YOU KIDDING?? HANLEY?!?! BOY, WAIT'LL I TELL HIM, HE'S GONNA DIE!!!"

Today. I saw him a couple of times, and as usual I could feel myself grow weak in the knees whenever he was in the vicinity. For some dumb reason I keep pretending that I don't see him ... I guess I'm too embarrassed. Whenever I saw Ed, he looked at me and said "Rick, huh?"

Ed: "Does Terri really like Rick?"
Rhonda: "I guess so."
Ed: "Oh my God ... I don't believe it."

After school, Rhonda and I went to the baseball game, but first we swung past the bowling alley so I could sneak a peek at my beloved. When his friends saw me sitting there, they started pointing at me and nudging Rick. Once again I acted like I didn't see him. TOMORROW I'll be civilized and say "hi" to him!




 Wednesday after school
April 9, 1975

I'm kinda depressed this afternoon ... clouds have moved in to block the sun, you might say.

I saw Rick a few times today, but once again I was so shy that I ducked my head and looked the other way when he passed by. What's the matter with me, anyway?? I had a silent attack every time I saw him.

I'm depressed because 1. I like him so much 2. I don't know if he likes me 3. The only thing Ed said to me today was "Did you call Rick this weekend?" I lied and said "no." Truth is, when I was a little drunk on Saturday night I dialed his number and told his mother to say Terri called.

3:30 p.m.

? ? ? ? ?

Grandma Vert just called me, and she said that "some boy named Rick" tried calling me this afternoon at her house. OH PLEASE LORD!!  Let him call me here at home!!!




Thursday morning 6:30 a.m.
April 10, 1975

I just woke up ... sitting here in bed, waiting for my electric rollers to heat up and listening to the radio. Another overcast day, but for some reason I feel this twinge of happiness in my heart. It's as though I know something really terrific is in store for me. Part of me wants to be gloomy and depressed because of Rick, but the other part is dying to be optimistic. Tug of war. Might as well let it ride, see what happens. After all, my horoscope for today told me that I'll be in a talkative mood and that Rick likes me. What more could I ask for?

7:30 p.m.
If You Want To Get To Heaven

Sitting in my ice cold bedroom, listening to the radio, sipping creme soda, watching the sun set. Several interesting things happened today ... as a result, I feel fairly happy, but my cold and my backache are kinda getting me down.

1. I was picked to represent our school at the state FBLA convention at Central Washington University next weekend. I'll be competing in the shorthand competition.

Posing with other FBLA members after the competition
(I'm front row, far right)
April 1975

2. I saw Rick at two different times today, and both times he stopped, waited for me and walked with me!! Before second period I was walking through the 100 building, searching for him everywhere. Suddenly I saw him a few feet ahead of me, and he must have felt my eyeballs boring holes into the back of his head because he turned around. I almost died of heart failure when he stopped and waited for me to catch up!! I'm so proud of myself. I looked him STRAIGHT IN THE EYES and said "Hi, Rick." None of this staring-at-the-floor business! He walked me out the door, and during our slightly-less-than-smooth conversation he told me that he tried calling me yesterday. (I knew that was him!)  During lunch, Rhon, Chris and me ran into him in the parking lot, and he walked with me out to Rhonda's car. I was dying of ecstasy!!  We drag-raced him down 24th, it was really funny.

Doug told me today that Rick "already has a girlfriend." I was absolutely flattened.  I kept thinking, "What if it's all a big joke? What if he really does have a girlfriend, and him and his friends are just leading me on?" (Walkin In Rhythm)  I don't know what to think.

Ed: "Are you going out with Rick this weekend?"
Me: (walking away) "Ha ha, you're pretty funny."
Ed: "Hey, I'm serious, is he taking you out?"
Me: (flustered) "Oh yah, sure ... I don't know! Ask him, don't ask me!"
Ed: "Oh, OK, I'll tell him you said ‘no.' "


Note: I just realized that my little sister Deb will graduate in 1987!!!  (a thousand years from now)



Friday afternoon
April 11, 1975

Clean house. Waiting for Rhonda to come pick me up ... we're going to go watch the football game at Moshier Field. Sun is shining. Saw Rick once today, before 2nd period, he walked with me, we talked, but he didn't ask me out. Damn it!!  I'm hoping against hope that he'll call me tonight and make some kind of date, but I have a feeling my hopes are futile. As far as I know -- if nothing better comes up -- I'm going to some party with Debbie Kimmel tonight. Darn it all, though, I wish I could be with Rick.  I'm afraid that I haven't made a very good impression on him, though ... whenever I talk to him I get all nervous and tongue-tied. He probably thinks I'm a stammering idiot. Oh well ... isn't life strange.



Saturday morning
April 12, 1975

I feel miserable. I went to the party with Debbie and Rhonda last night, and I drank enough beer and smoked enough pot to make my head feel like a ton of bricks this morning. Besides that, I'm super-depressed about Rick. I'm so damned hung up on him, but it seems like he could care less about me. Last night at the party, when we were kinda drunk, we called him. Rhonda talked to him: she said that she was "looking for Terri," and asked if he knew where I was. Then she invited him to the party, but he said he had "things to do." Shit. I feel cross, cranky, irritable, hot and ugly.

2:15 p.m.

Still haven't done a thing all day but watch TV, listen to records and feel unloved. The house is a mess, I'm a mess ... the whole world is a mess.

2:30 a.m.

Written late, late, late ... ... or should I say early, early, EARLY?  I'm so excited, and happy, and just plain ecstatic that I can't sleep. The world has once again become a joy.

After spending the entire day sitting around moping & feeling sorry for myself, I was SHOCKED AS HELL when Rick called at 6:30! I didn't recognize his voice: I thought he was someone else at first. My heart came to a complete standstill when I realized who I was really talking to!!!   After a lot of polite preliminaries and awkward silence, he did it  -  he asked me out. I couldn't believe it!  He picked me up at 7:30, and we drove over to Lewis and Clark where we played a couple games of pool.  He's terrific at it, I'm absolutely rotten, but it was fun anyway. His car started acting up, so we decided to play it safe and go to my house vs. driving around and having the car break down miles from home. We sat on my couch and watched a couple hours of TV ... Dad obligingly went out & left us alone. And I enjoyed every single minute!

He promised to call tomorrow (today)!




Sunday morning 11:15 a.m.
April 13, 1975

This is great ... waking up on a Sunday morning and feeling wonderful. No hangover, no depression, no guilt. Nothing but this nice sense of pleasantness within me. My room is clean - I cleaned it until 3:00 this morning - and I feel unbelievably cozy and pure and clean.




Tuesday afternoon
April 15, 1975

Oh boy. Everything is incredibly, unbelievably confused.

Yesterday Rick was acting kinda strange around me ... he walked me to a few classes, but he seemed distant and a little worried about something. During lunch he said, "Terri, can I have a talk with you alone somewhere?" He told me that he's really super confused because he still hasn't broken up with his girlfriend of six months, Jeannine. He said, "I want to take both of you out, but I'm afraid you'll be mad."  I was really shook up, but I fed him this phony line, "Why would I be mad?" and now he thinks everything is cool. Which it isn't, of course.



Sunday morning
April 20, 1975

Several days later. Ledger, I may be an idiot for writing all these things to you, out in plain view of any wandering eye ... but honestly, I think I'd go crazy if I didn't have you to turn to at times. You don't know what a solace you can be.

My relationship with Rick is moving at the speed of light. In a way I wish things would slow down and mellow and become less rushed ... but whenever I'm within ten feet of him I get so damned excited that there's no controlling it. Why is it that way, I wonder? With some guys you only feel mild interest, and with others something explodes inside of you when he touches you.  I was still trying to figure out the whole chemistry thing.

Last night Rick spent the night with me.  (He was too drunk to drive.)  I've never done anything like that before, and it was risky and dangerous and terribly exciting because Dad was sleeping in the next room, and I was scared to death that any minute he would hear us and come walking in. We got away with it, though. Can you believe it??  We didn't have sex.  He wanted to, he really did, and he tried his hardest to talk me into it. I stuck to my guns and said "No," and when he saw that I was serious, I think he respected my wishes. It was neat sleeping with him, though  ...  literally sleeping. He held me in his arms and I laid my head on his chest, and when I woke up in the morning and saw him laying next to me the feeling in my heart was inexpressible. I hope it's like that some morning when I wake up and look at my husband laying beside me. Oh, I hope it is.  Actually, it's much, much better.  We don't have to sleep with our clothes on, for one thing.  

Later (before bed)

Rick called this afternoon, and he's going to pick me up tomorrow morning and give me a ride to school. Good. I spent the whole day sleeping and relaxing ... didn't even bother getting dressed. This weekend really wiped me out.

It's hard to explain my relationship with Rick. Thursday afternoon, after school, I was rummaging around in the hall closet looking for a suitcase to take to the Convention, when he stopped by unexpectedly. He had spent the whole afternoon working on his car and had finally gotten it running: now he wanted to take me for a ride. I grabbed a sweater and we drove down to Seahurst Park. The beach was deserted, and we walked hand in hand along the edge of the water, looking for shells and feeling the sand squishing under our shoes ... a couple of times he pulled me to him and we stood there, locked together, the smell of salt air and sea breeze all around us ...

Here's what I remember about that afternoon: he criticized the way I kissed.  He kept asking me to "loosen up my mouth."  I remember I tried to be really cool and casual about it, but I was secretly devastated by the criticism.  At that point I still didn't like French kissing, but it seemed to be the only way boys wanted to kiss anymore, so I finally gave in and went along with it.

About his girlfriend Jeannine. I really feel bad about her. I mean, she and Rick had been going together for six months, and she probably cares for him a lot. I feel like "the other woman," and believe me, it's not the nicest feeling in the world. Last night when he whispered to me, "Terri, let's go to bed ... it'd be great!," I was absolutely torn in half. I shook my head and said, "I can't - you belong to someone else." I was trying to get him to admit his real feelings for me (and for Jeannine), but he said "She doesn't care what I do. You know how I feel about you."

I shook my head. "No. I don't."

"I told you on Tuesday after bowling!" he said.

"No you didn't," I said. "You just said you were ‘confused'."

He was silent for a moment, and then he said, "Well, if I didn't like you, do you think I'd follow you all around school, the way I do?"




Monday afternoon
April 21, 1975

Sunny day. I skipped 5th and 6th periods and came home early ... Phil gave me a ride home. Dad is mowing the lawn, I'm sitting here in my room trying to scrape up the energy to DO something (like clean my room, ha ha ha). Rick was quiet today. He gave me a ride this morning, but other than that I didn't see him the rest of the day. Crap. Maybe he's mad, maybe he's depressed ... who knows?

Gotta go put on a show of energy.




Tuesday evening
April 22, 1975

School holiday. I'm getting upset ... Rick didn't call me last night and hasn't called me all day today, either. Crap. Maybe he's mad at me about something ... or maybe he's been spending the time with his precious Jeannine. Sure burns me up, though. Better go check on the chocolate cake busily baking in the oven ... write a letter to Dee Dee.

Before Bed:

He never called. Am I surprised? YES!  But I'm determined not to let it get me down and destroy my whole world. It's dumb to let all facets of my life hinge on a phone call from one idiotic guy. If he wants to be an asshole, let him. That's his business. My horoscope (Dad calls them "horrible-scopes") says that I'm going to be concerned with emotions & love tomorrow, and that a Scorpio (Rick) will be in the picture. Sure hope so. 





Wednesday 6:38 p.m.
April 23, 1975

I feel like shit, to put it mildly. Dad is all over my back, Rick acts like he hates me, I can't do a thing with my stupid hair, I can't stop eating. Nothing is going right, and naturally Rick is at the root of my bad mood. That asshole. Actually, I'm the ass for letting him get me down like this, but what the hell, I might as well blame someone else. I feel low enough as it is. He didn't come and pick me up this morning, he avoided me all day at school, and he didn't call tonight. I don't know what's going on in that screwy head of his, but whatever it is I wish he'd let me in on it.

I'm going to church tonight ... anything, anything to avoid moping. I've got to find some way to put things back into their proper perspective.

There's someone in my head/But it's not me




Thursday night
April 24, 1975

A quick word before bed. I don't think it would be unrealistic to say that I'm too depressed to even write to you, Ledger ... because I am. So I won't.


Maybe I'm not too depressed to write. I am exhausted, though. Physically, mentally, emotionally, you name it. Right after dinner I suddenly felt an engulfing wave of exhaustion that has rendered me completely dead to the world. I feel absolutely devoid of emotion or energy. A good night's sleep is what I need.

Rick is an asshole. I wish I could think of a better word, but that just about sums it up. He's taking Jeannine to the Prom. Goody for him. Guess I've just been used again. Jesus, what is the matter with my stupid head, anyway? I'm beginning to think I'm mentally retarded, or insane ... or both.

Dad is out in the living room watching the basketball game. I'm sitting here in my ice-cold room (stomach pains), listening to the radio and feeling like shit. Thank God that there are four people in this lousy, stinking world who are still behind me: Rhonda, Phil, Dad and Grandma Vert. Without them, I shudder to think. I'd be in the loony bin for sure, pulling my fingernails out or talking to walls or something. See ya.




Friday night 7 p.m.
April 25, 1975

Things are still as swell as ever ... ha ha ha. I was too depressed to even go to school today, and I feel absolutely cut-off from the world. No one even knows I'm alive.




Saturday morning
April 26, 1975

I couldn't sleep last night. I kept having these frustrating dreams that Rick came over and explained everything to me, and when I woke up and realized I was only dreaming I felt like bashing my head through a window or something. (Nothing drastic, ha ha). I got up at 8 a.m. and rode my bike around for an hour. Cold, cloudy morning ... I'm about to spend a couple hours cleaning up this pig sty of a bedroom. If Rhonda can't get the booze, and if I end up sitting home alone tonight   --  ON PROM NIGHT, NO LESS  --  I think I'll totally lose my mind. The mere thought of him dancing and having fun with another girl is too much. Of course, they are going together, and unfortunately she has more of a right to him than I do ... but self-centered old me is still fuming with jealousy and hatred and bitterness. It's not a hell of a lot of fun being the other woman. Words to live by.

5:30 p.m.

Prom night. I guess the most depressing thing a girl could have to endure would be sitting home alone on Prom night. I feel absolutely crushed. Why does life have to be so agonizingly lonely? 

Karen came over for a couple hours this afternoon. Her beloved dog died last night. We sat in my bedroom, listening to sad records and crying. We're both close to hitting bottom. Rhonda hasn't called, so I guess I'm going to stay home, remembering last Saturday night and feeling dismal. This ache inside me won't go away, no matter how many times I tell myself that 1.) It's no big deal ... there's always Prom next year, 2.) Rick isn't the only guy in the world, and 3.) I've got a lot of things going for me.  But it's no use, Ledger.  Seventeen years old and washed-up.  Finished.  Dried out and decaying and dead.

6:46 p.m.

Rhonda called a few minutes ago and didn't say a word about going out tonight. I guess that means I'm staying home along. My favorite sad song is playing on the radio, my eyes are brimming with the tears that refused to come before ... everything is utterly, hopelessly futile.

"I can't get it out of my head
No I can't get it out of my head
Now my whole world has gone so dead
‘Cause I can't get it out of my head ... "



Sunday afternoon
April 27, 1975

My horoscopes in both the P.I. and the Seattle Times say that today should be a terrific day. Hmmmm. I'm in an unusually good frame of mind, considering. Grandma just called and invited me to go to some Mother-Daughter Banquet with her on May 9. That'll be a Friday night, but I said "Sure." What the hell ... no one will ask me out that night, anyway. It'll probably be the only thing I end up doing all weekend.

I'm going to sing with the Youth Choir this afternoon. That should help keep my mind off what's-his- name. Won't be all that exciting, but it sure beats moping.



Monday evening
April 28, 1975




Tuesday evening
April 29, 1975

Lady Marmalade

Super-late ... if I ever want to get up tomorrow morning, I should say "good night, world" and hit the sack ... but I've gotta write a word or two first. It becomes addicting, writing in a journal.

I've said "bye bye" to Rick. Guess he and Jeannine simply have too good a thing going. So what right do I have to lay claim on him? Hope they're very happy together. As for me, I'm gonna give it one more college try and stay single for a while ... long enough to get Rick, Scott, Dean, etc. etc. completely out of my system before I get tied up with anyone new. Just sit and wait. Patiently. Wait for Mr. Right to come to me, instead of spending all my time and energy chasing after him. If no one terrific appears on the scene, then hell with it ... I'll stay single. It won't kill me.





Wednesday evening 8:13 p.m.
April 30, 1975

Day By Day

Hmmm. My horoscope for today told me to 'think optimistically.'  Fat lot of good that did. I was in a semi-rotten mood all day long, snapping at teachers and friends alike. Suddenly school   --  the academic side of it, that is  --  has become a very great pain in the ass. My scholastic energies have fled. I sit in class and stare out the window, thinking about summer and boys and assorted trivia. The weather is hot, hot  ...  it drains me of all energy. I feel dried up, withered, ready to blow away.

God, I wish I could find someone new, to help me forget about all the rotten experiences I've had with guys this year. Someone good looking, and funny, and attentive. Maybe I should place an ad in the paper.

Attractive, eligible junior girl looking for suitable boyfriend. Minimum requirements
include a terrific body, stimulating mind, drivers license and access to a car. All applicants must be
17 yrs. of age or older. Experience definitely necessary. Apply by calling 246-8953.

Or maybe I should stick to my original plan ... sitting it out, this interminably long period of waiting, waiting, waiting for the perfect guy to come knocking at my door. I have very little patience ... that's the problem.



Thursday night before bed
May 1, 1975

MAY is here already. I can't, absolutely cannot believe it. This year has gone by incredibly fast. SLOW DOWN, TIME!!! 

Feeling more human today.

Rhon, Lori and me are going to go out tomorrow night with a bottle of gin and get ourselves snockered in honor of Rhonda's birthday.



Friday after school
May 2, 1975

Funeral For A Friend

Jim got the booze ... oh happiness! A whole huge bottle of delicious, incredible, pine-tasting dry gin. I mixed myself a small drink when I got home, and now I'm sitting comfortably on my bed, sipping it slowly (I make them STRONG) and listening to records. The music and the gin are filling me with warmth, peacefulness, a sense of well-being. Chilly rain outside. Rhon, Lori and me are going to go out tonight and paint this whole fucking town RED.




Saturday night
May 3, 1975

Oh God. Life is an absolute pit. Everything is so nauseatingly, incredibly confused. Am I coming or going? Am I up or down? Part of me is upset, part of me feels terrific ... I'm split in half. What if I'm pregnant? Jesus, wouldn't THAT be swell. The icing on the cake. I'm also unbearably tired. Goodnight. I'll explain the whole thing to you tomorrow, I promise. Word of honor.




Sunday afternoon
May 4, 1975

Friday night is something I'd like to block out of my memory forever. I called my old friend Mike Heater that night, and after Rhon, Lori and me had driven down to Seahurst Park to drink our dry gin mixed with Coke, we went over to his house. He and Ed  were sitting around drinking Rainier and listening to the stereo





May 9, 1975

Miserably hot (80°) weather that drained me completely.  Energetic as a bowl of Jell-O.  Someone wrote "I love Terri Vert" on the desks in my English class  ...  looks suspiciously like Clarence's handwriting.  Rick McNeill told me today that Mike Heater likes me.  BIG DEAL.  Apparently he's told everybody about last Friday night, that ASSHOLE.

Baseball game w/Rhonda after school   --  went to the Mother/Daughter Banquet with Grandma and (my cousin) Elizabeth Ann tonight.

With my little cousin Elizabeth at the Mother-Daughter Banquet
May 9, 1975


Sunday afternoon 
May 11, 1975

It's been a week since I've written in you, Ledger ... sorry. I can barely write. Yesterday I cleverly managed to sprain the index finger on my right hand, and it's in a splint now to keep me from bending it. I have to play the piano at a choir concert on Tuesday night, so this stupid finger had better heal by then. If it doesn't, I'm in trouble!

I've decided to put the sordid details of last weekend out of my mind completely. There's no point in punishing myself with mental whip-lashings. I made a mistake, and I'm going to suffer for it enough as it is. Apparently Mike has told several of his friends about me spending the night at his house, so my reputation has been ever more completely trashed. I'm going to TRY (ha!) to forget about it and pray to God that the whole world doesn't hear about it.

I've really felt down on myself lately. My self-confidence is slipping. I just feel a hell of a lot less attractive ... fat and pale and stringy-haired and blotchy. I doubt that any guy is ever going to be seriously interested in me. I don't feel as though I have any redeeming qualities left. And as if I don't feel rotten enough, suddenly Rhonda and Lori seem to be attracting all the guys in the world, while I stand out in the cold with nobody. What's wrong with me??? I feel trapped and frustrated and inhibited. My life isn't going ANYWHERE. Stagnant. Dull. Besides that ... my finger hurts!! (Sympathy, please.)

Before Bed:

Dad re-wrapped my finger for me ... now it's in a gigantic bandage. Completely immobilized. Hurts, too.

I wish ... oh, what's the use?? It doesn't matter what I wish. I never seem to get what I'm looking for anyway, so what's the use in wishing? I'm divided. Part of me wishes like anything that I could find a nice, steady, affectionate boyfriend ... someone who will take me as I am, love me as I am. Someone who won't rush me into something I'm not ready for. Someone to love. But the other part of me, the sensible part, keeps saying:

A. What's the big deal? In the long run, what will it matter if you don't have a steady boyfriend today?
B. Why not enjoy being single? Why not use this time to develop your own personality, your own lifestyle, your own interests and ideals and goals? What will it matter, anyway?

I guess I'm just so insecure and down on myself that I need the ego-boost of somebody thinking I'm attractive & desirable.

Terri, you are an idiot. Honestly. Just stay COOL ... don't let it get you down. Hold your head UP. He'll come along, one of these days. Just pray you don't jump for the first jerk to come along ... and that you don't make any more mistakes like last weekend.

Enough of my scrawling.




Monday after school
May 12, 1975

Another hot, sunshiny summerish day. Rhonda is really down-in-the-dumps. For her sake I pretended to be happy and carefree ... but inside I'm about ready to join her.


I'm feeling a little hot and feverish, so I brought my Ledger and my favorite pen out into the carport, to sit in my lawnchair for a few minutes and write a thought or two in the coolness of the evening air. The sun is beginning to set ... cold breeze is trembling through the trees. Children are laughing, dogs are barking. Typical pre-summer evening.

I had a thought that was so tremendously inspired and important, I have to write it down. Here I sit, trapped in my own lonely slab of time, and I have no way of seeing into the future. I can't know what's ahead of me ... so what's to stop me from dreaming that maybe it's something terrific? Why do all my expectations have to be dark and gloomy? Maybe something incredibly wonderful is right around the corner. How do I know?

TOO COLD. Gotta go back in the house!!!





Thursday 9:45 p.m.
May 15, 1975

You're Having My Baby / We've Gotta Get It On Again / Long Tall Glasses

Before bed. Tired. This is Dad's night off, so he's across the hall in his radio room, typing and drinking and talking on the CB. I just finished washing my hair and taking a long, steamy-hot bath. I'm sitting in bed now, writing by the light of a tangerine-scented candle, listening to KOL-FM on the radio, feeling clean and pure and sleepy. This atmosphere is too good to waste, though - I can't blow out the candles and turn off the music and sink into sleep until I've had a few minutes to sit here and savor the calm and restfulness of the moment.

Still a single woman. It's been nearly four weeks since I blew it with Rick ... this must be a world's record for me. I've never gone this long without a boyfriend! It's kind of rough at times ... I'm so accustomed to associating myself with a guy that sometimes I feel like I'm only half a person, that the other half of me is missing.

Once You Get Started

Last night our church singing group went and sang at a mission down on Skid Row, and I spent a lot of time with Phil. He asked me to sit by him on the bus ride home ... and as usual, whenever I'm with him, I get these thoughts about getting back together. I wonder if we ever will, and if we do, if it will work out any better.

Boys, boys, boys. My whole life is centered around them. Is that healthy? At least I'm semi-aware that it might be a problem.  Let's give me some Brownie pointage for that.




Sunday night 10:28 p.m.
May 18, 1975

Writing by candlelight. House is absolutely still: everyone in the world is sleeping but me. New Vision went and sang out in Federal Way tonight. Our performance wasn't very good, but it was fun. Spent a LOT of time with Phil ... now I'm an absolute mass of confusion. Too tired to write. G'night.




Monday night before bed
May 19, 1975


I had an awful lot of interesting encounters today. Must be the high point in my cycle or something.



May 23, 1975

A lot of things have happened this week, but I've been absolutely too tied-up to write to you. Sorry!

First of all, I actually have a date tonight ... can you believe it?? Someone actually asked me out. I'm going to go to the baseball game downtown with Dan Kent tonight.  My first crush, five years earlier!  He asked me after Bible Study on Wednesday night, and I have to admit I was shocked as hell. It was so out of the blue. The idea of going out with Dan doesn't exactly tear me up or anything ... I mean, he's a nice guy and all, but he's not the kind of guy I'm usually interested in. But I'm going to go on the date, of course ...

... That is, if it doesn't rain. The weather is absolutely wicked today. Rain, wind, clouds, etc. etc.

Finally, concerning Phil. I decided to forget about getting back together with him. He has a big crush on little Debby B. (a seventh grader, my God). Who am I to stand in the way of true romance.

As for my friends:

* Rhonda is acting like a bitch
* Karen is on my good side
* Debbie is mad at Beth and therefore spends most of her time with me

Before Bed:

My date with Dan tonight was one of those pleasant, "ho-hum" ordeals a girl has to put herself through once in awhile. No big thrills.

Time to hit the sack. G'night.



Sunday evening
May 25, 2975

A hot, sunny, summery evening. I'm lying out here in the backyard on an old blanket, listening to the radio, writing letters to Lori & Susan & Dave, enjoying this feeling. I spent the whole day outside baking under the blazing sun, and I got an incredibly gorgeous burn. (Anything is better than being deathly pale.) Now it's starting to cool off as the sun sets ... very relaxed, fairly happy.




Monday (a week later)
June 2, 1975

Ledger, I've neglected you for so long, you probably thought I died or something. Nope ... just been so darned busy, I haven't had time. (Worn-out excuse.)




June 9, 1975

Today was Class Day - assembly in the morning, Sherie and I played the Processional March. Really sad. Rick Hanley shocked the hell out of me by asking me to go to a party with him. (I said "no thanks.") Went to the beach briefly with Rhon & Lori.



June 16, 1975

Dear Ledger:

I haven't written to you in over two weeks, and tonight I have come to the difficult conclusion that you and I must face a parting of the ways ... perhaps only temporarily, but certainly long enough for me to come out from behind pen and paper and face myself as I am. I've been keeping a Ledger faithfully since eighth grade, and I have to admit that although it's been a pain in the neck sometimes, it's also been a priceless, incomparable release, companion, comfort and friend. You have provided me with treasured momentos of my teenage years that will someday be of inestimable value to me. But now it's time for me to stop for a moment and work my problems out within myself, rather than within your pages. A person must learn to be honest with themselves before they can face the greater test of being honest with others.

Before I close, though, I'll paint you one last word-picture of myself ... the way I feel & think & hurt & love at this exact moment in time. OK?

It's early on a Monday night in mid-June. Summer vacation began "officially" today, but if the weather is any indication one would think it was mid-February ... cold, rainy, damp, gray, nondescript, depressing ... the kind of weather than brings those annoying arthritic twinges in my wrists and ankles. I wish the sun would shine. Rhonda and I made all sorts of wonderful plans for the summer, visions of spending our days laying on the golden sand of Seahurst Park beach, running in the water, tossing the frisbee back and forth ... this stupid weather is enough to make going back to school sound good.

I'm tired. Last weekend was really wild - parties, a New Vision concert, going out with friends, etc. - and I still haven't fully recovered. I've had so little energy these past few days. I'm sitting here on my rumpled bed, writing by the light of the little lamp beside my bed, listening to the drizzle of the ever-present rain. Dad is in bed already, and the house is deathly quiet. Not a sound. Everyone in the world is asleep but me. My room is chilly and untidy, but nonetheless comforting. My little world.

And now the big news.  I'm in love. Really. I suppose the next few pages will be rambles about HIM - my new Mr. Right & Perfect. You don't mind, do you? You've seen me through half a hundred boys in my lifetime ... one more won't hurt, will it?

His name is Steve P., and I met him at a party a little over a week ago. Our meeting was purely accidental, but I'm so thankful to The Powers That Be that I did meet him. He is just the ray of sunshine, just the gentle explosion my drab existence was crying for. He has brought me to life again, and reminded me how right and good love can be. I've always thought Steve was kinda good-looking, and with mutual friends, we always seemed to end up at the same parties. I was usually too shy to talk to him, although I did manage a polite "hi" now and then if I happened to see him around school. He always made a point of smiling back, and he struck me from the very beginning as a guy I'd like to meet, maybe even a guy I could become interested in.

I was sitting home alone on a Saturday night, feeling slightly neglected, when the phone rang at 9:00. It was Steve Peterson, a good friend of mine, famous for his wild and crazy parties. He said that he & a bunch of his friends had just bought a keg, and asked if I wanted to come and join the party. Naturally I was eager - who wants to sit home alone on a Saturday night?? - but I had no way to get to his house. Could someone possibly give me a ride? Steve checked around with a couple of people and managed to find me a ride. I hung up excitedly and rushed to change my blouse and freshen my makeup. An hour later, there was a knock at the door.  My old pal Bill Dopps stood on the porch. 

"Hey baby, you ready to go?" he said. 

I looked at his car, parked in the street, and noticed there was someone sitting in the front seat. "Who's that?" I asked, and Bill said "That's P. You know him?"  

I said, "Yah, a little." Inside I was whispering to myself, "I'm gonna get to know him a hell of a lot BETTER tonight."   I don't know how I knew  ...  I just knew.

I was attracted to him right from the very first, and unless I'm mistaken he felt the same way. I purposely sat very close to him in the car (I sat between him & Billy in the front seat), and I could feel his arm pressed against mine. I was very nonchalent and cool, even though my heart was racing. At the party, Steve made a point of keeping my beer glass filled. We sat near each other by the fireplace, and as the evening wore on and the number of beers I'd consumed rose to 4, 5, 6, 7, I grew more and more talkative and more aggressive. I found myself talking to Steve about anything and everything, and I felt as relaxed and unselfconscious around him as if we'd been lifelong buddies. He seemed just as interested as I was, and that added fuel to the fire. We finally moved to a more comfortable spot on the couch, and I sat right next to him. I rested my head (which by that time was buzzing like a fire alarm) on his strong shoulder, and he timidly put his hand on my knee. That timidity didn't last for long.

By 3 a.m. practically everyone had left. The keg was empty and Steve (our host) was tired and went to bed. Steve and I were standing together in the hallway. I was leaning against the wall, dead-tired, and he picked me up in those big strong arms of his and gently carried me down the hallway to a bedroom. I was only barely conscious of being deposited into the soft confines of the bed, and I remember slipping into a peaceful drowsiness. I know Steve made love to me, but the beer had taken its toll and I was out cold. All I know is that I woke up two hours later, locked in his arms, and I felt like I hadn't felt in months ... wanted.

It took me a few days to figure out my feelings for Steve. I know that basically it was physical attraction, but it takes more than that for me. I felt only slightly guilty about going to bed with him the first night we met, but I remembered that that's the way my parents got together and I rationalized the whole thing in my head. I was much more afraid that maybe I was just a "one-nighter" to Steve - a dumb little chick that he'd seduced and tossed away. He called, though. He came over to watch TV with me. He invited me over to his house. He took me out with his buddy on Friday night, in their boat. He called again, every day. He's still calling.

And I love him.

He's hard to describe. I hate to admit this, because it seems so shallow, but my first impression of him was that he as a big, dumb, bad-tempered slob who was always fighting somebody. I was so off-base, it's incredible. He's big, granted, but although he may look dumb and give the impression of being not-quite-bright, he's really a fairly intelligent person. He does have a bad temper, though, and there are at least half a dozen guys who would just love to beat his ass in. He always seems to have somebody after him. He's also extremely jealous. He informed me that if he "catches any other guy touching me, he's gonna beat his face in." I don't mind: Steve is the only guy I want right now. He is kinda heavy into the drugs, mostly pot, and he dearly loves playing poker "with the guys," going out "with the guys," doing stuff "with the guys" ... but hell, doesn't every guy? Who the fuck wants to go out with a Boy Scout, anyway?? So he has his faults, and I have mine, and sometimes we disagree. Sometimes I'm a smartass and make him mad by saying something I don't really mean. Sometimes he's a real bastard - ignoring me, pushing me around a little. But  I can take it.

Our relationship is very physical. After our first encounter, we've gone to bed together one other time, but when I discovered my period was overdue I put a stop to that. (It came tonite, so everything's cool. No pitter-patter of little feet. Yet.) We talked it over, in an amazingly unembarrassed manner. I said that what I DON'T need right now is a baby. He understood and asked me to go on the Pill. I've been giving it some serious thought, and I think I will ... not necessarily for him, but for me. My friend Shelly is going to go with me to the free clinic, as soon as I make an appointment.

Steve called me once this afternoon, but tonite he went to his brother's house so I didn't get to see him. Darn it. Before he met me, he made plans to drive down to Texas for the summer, carousing and boozing with his friends. Now, though, he says he feels torn in half. Part of him still wants to go on the trip, but part of him doesn't want to leave me. Naturally I don't want him to go. The thought of him leaving, possibly for months, kills me. I would die. But I'm going to try and keep my feelings to myself, allowing him to make his own decision about this. Maybe I've only loved him for a couple of weeks, but already I feel I know what he's going to do. I think he's going to go. It makes me feel so sad and lonely to think about him being gone, but what can I do? Bind and gag him? Beg him not to leave? He needs to be free, and no one is going to stand in his way. No one. Not even me.

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