Disastrous Washington DC Trip
August 6-8, 1972
Let me count the ways: 1 long drive down, then getting lost; 2 the Kreigsmans canceling out of the Sunday picnic; 3 my dissociation and the virtual ignorance of John's eager news about the poster and the new building possibilities at the DTW meeting; 4 the cancellation of the Board of Directors meeting at Paul's on Tuesday night, making it a three-day trip; 5 no one at the CMP offices for John to see; 6 the depression caused by the erasing of the Library of Congress from his list of "possibilities"; 7 the lack of anything we wanted to see at the Freer; 8 Dumbarton Oaks being closed; 9 the oppressive heat and humidity of the walk back to Paul's; 10 Sally's friend couldn't get to dinner; 11 the only dish John ordered turning out to be the worst of the lot; 12 the hideous performance: rain, awful sound for Deborah's piece, too much light for Art's piece, the small audience; 13 my TOTAL feeling of "out-of-itness" at Hawkins party, where I sat and read a book and spoke to almost no one, the source of a long talk on the trip back the next day; 14 the rigors of the drive back after only ONE day of non-driving between times; 15 not being able to get the oil changed in the car; 16 Longwood not living up to its "soul-restoring" reputation---it was the slightest bit of a drag---even the orchids didn't seem worth looking at, though the lotus and the platter-plants were hits; 17 John's eyes were hurting because his sunglasses broke. So we got back from DC rather wishing, but not stating, that we hadn't gone: we could have devoted more time to fixing up the apartment across the hall, we would have gotten more sleep and had more sex, John probably would have found at least one occasion to go to the beach, which he likes more than just about anything else, and we might have done a bath or bar scene which he would have enjoyed more than the crushing heterosexuality of the scene around the pool in Chevy Chase. He would have no cause to say that he was extremely irritable, which he had at least the courage to face in himself, and I wouldn't have felt so tired, compounding the vague fears of catching hepatitis from Paul Guzzardo, which I feel through my weakness and listlessness and lack of energy (but then I haven't EXERCISED in quite a while), and it's four weeks to TODAY (it's normal gestation time) from the time I TALKED with Paul in the office!