1976 5 of 8
DIARY 11045
SUNDAY, JULY 4. Wake about 10 but don't get involved since he expects a call from his folks at 11; and when they don't call by 11:15, he calls them to find they'd gotten up at 5:30, eaten, and gone back to bed. I'm watching some of the things on TV, wanting to get out to SOMETHING, and shower at 12, just as the first 21-gun salute goes off in the river. We have soft-boiled eggs and Dennis goes into the shower at 1, just as the SECOND 21-gun salute goes off, hearing it plainly as the TV shows "the elegant apartment buildings along Riverside Drive" which I'll soon be in. Out about 1:30 to walk down to Paul's to pick up the papers I'd left there yesterday, but there's a crowd on his roof and not much of a view, so we're down to the river to find not such a huge crowd as we'd expected: you CAN move along it, but it soon starts to rain, so about 2:45 we're up to Don's to dry out and see what Operation Sail looks like (see DIARY 11046). He's got a grand spread of raw vegetables, quiche, potato salad, fruit, drinks, patés, spreads, humus, punch, and other things, and the crowd's gone from 5 to 10 to 20 to the current about 35. Dennis gets caught up with Lee, so he's willing to stay, and I smoke and drink and get stoned watching out the window and on the roof, and then about 8 we say it's time to get out to the fireworks, which I thought started at 9:30, but we get to the crowded station and onto a slow-moving train, and I figure we CAN make it at 9:30, but then at Houston we stop for a long time and people start getting out, so we're out with the crowd, walking over to the river to see how far we are from 375 West (I kept trying to call Paul Bosten, but he was never home), but we're below it, and there's a blast in the sky about 9:15 and we see people going through fences onto the Battery Park City landfill, so we're through and up, and it starts about 9:20 and is over about 9:35, which is a real downer (see DIARY 11047). Wait until the crowds disperse, pissing into the sand, Dennis catching up on part of HIS journal, and I expect that the subways will be jammed, but we have to walk slowly down the stairs to the platform, but more are going uptown, and we even get SEATS on the Brooklyn-bound express, off at 11:00, to Pope's at 11, (BobG at Arnie's says I can only have his number 200 years, and Arnie advised cheesecake for Malcolm and Bob before they go to the Ramp) and here to smoke and have sex and get to sleep, both coming, at 2:10, EXHAUSTED thoroughly.
DIARY 11048
MONDAY, JULY 5. I wake about 10, try to catch the phone ringing at 11, try again at 12, to no avail, and watch the clock spin around to 1:10, when Dennis has slept 11 hours, and wake him in time to get a call from Susan, back in town, and he calls his service to find that Judy is NOT coming into town from Connecticut, as she'd planned, so he doesn't have to meet her at 1:30. Up for fried pork butt and French toast for "breakfast" and then listen to "Liebesverbot" while we shower, he finishes his diary, and he has to get out at 5:15 for his singing lesson at 6. We subway up to 79th together and I take the Mexican stuff to Don and we decide that it would really not be likely that it go beyond September 1, which comes out to 6.5 hours of driving EVERY day, or 13 hours for each day we don't do any traveling, and I figure the expenses at $1100, which is just too much. I feel rather depressed by this, and at 8 start saying that I'm hungry. Don has nothing in the house (after he said he did), and I'm disgusted by how the negotiations have gone (see DIARY 11049). Dennis says he has stuff at home, so we leave about 8:30 and I get up the second flight when I decide I should give the bottle to Don, and down and back to have Dennis call Don and say that we need some tomato sauce. Don can't find his wallet, so he owes me $10, I buy mushrooms for the spaghetti, and we eat about 10:30, pretty good, having wine with it, smoking, and getting into a nice evening's sex, except that I really don't feel very sexy, having lain in bed for about two hours this morning playing with myself to no avail, thinking about a new idea for making money with a jerk-off show (see DIARY 11050), remembering that I'd forgotten to record a dream from last week (see DIARY 11051), and deciding that I HAD to have a talk with Don about Mexico. Dennis gets into his cock, shouting out "Cock, cock" as he gets more excited, coming VERY excitingly in thick gouts on my stomach where he's rubbing it without touching it, and I'm hard, working on myself, almost there, but it's not working, we stop for the rest of the cherry cake, fabulous, and then get to bed about 1:30, knowing that Dennis has to work tomorrow and I have to return to the index. As usual, I promise to come in the morning.
DIARY 11052
TUESDAY, JULY 6. Come in the morning, as promised, and Dennis makes himself some coffee but there's nothing for me. I'd read the Times last night while waiting for him to cook dinner, clipping out only the TV and the puzzle, which I started, and worked on this morning while waiting for him to get ready. Home at 10:15 to find no mail in yet, up to water the plants and kill hundreds of white flies that had reproduced over the weekend, and then get down to the editing of the cards at 10:30, working straight through until 6 to finish with 1.5 boxes. Called Richard last night to say that we'd be up this weekend, but when I talked to Joann to ask her questions, she said that I HAD to have the index in by the 15th, saying that I'd told her I'd have it by the 14th, which I could have said ONLY if she'd finished the pages by the 28th, so HER finishing the pages by the 30th gives me AT LEAST until the 16th. Tried calling Stephen for the muscle show, but he wasn't home. Arnie and Dennis called for a bit, and then at 6 I found that I could watch a NEW "Star Trek," an early one about a Doomsday Machine, and it seems their early ones were FAR more atmospheric than the later ones. Shave during an intermission, and shower quickly and get out to the State Theater at 7:43, check on sold-out dates at the State, find the prices at the Russian Festival, and then out at 7:47 to find Arnie, give him two tickets, and back to buy two in the center for $12 for Tuesday JUST at 8, and out to dash across and MEET them going through the ticket-taker. Dennis is angry because he was late and Arnie had come to check where I was to give the ticket back to me, so he chews on his fingers through the first ballet, and the evening is great for Makarova and blighted otherwise (see DIARY 11053). Talk to Arnie during the intermission about BobG, and decide he now has 4 strikes against him (see DIARY 11054). Out at 10:30 and walk up to Dennis's, meeting Avi and his new friend Bill, so we chat up to 77th, then have more spaghetti and smoke and have brandy and screwdrivers, not so great, and eat and have sex and have watermelon and almonds and sunflower seeds and back to smoke more, play around a bit, and get to sleep about 2, exhausted again.
DIARY 11055
WEDNESDAY, JULY 7. Wake at 7:50 and cuddle for a bit, then jerk myself off while Dennis is very hard, but he doesn't come. Calls the director of "Street Scene" and arranges for a rehearsal tonight, at which time he'll find out his schedule of rehearsals and whether we can go to Poughkeepsie from HIS point of view on this weekend. Home at 10:30 to a LOT of mail, kill white flies, water the plants, and eat nothing since the two soft-boiled this morning until I finish catching these diary pages up to date by 3 pm, having done 18 pages to do it, now BEHIND on the index-work. Then I decide I have to do errands, needing groceries, and have to take the records back, So I play "Bluebeard's Castle" and record a bit of it, deciding not to record anything from "Elgar's Symphony #2" or the "New Music Volume 4," since they're both awful. Then out at 4:30 to get money from the bank, finding that they CAN make out a money order to my personal funds; it's only CASH that I can't take out more than $250 of; pick up a package from the post office that I bring back to check through, but it's REALLY dealer's stock from Hall: complete SHEETS of semi-valuable stamps, but it IS a buy and investment, I guess. Put groceries away and water the plants until 6, and have tuna while watching "Catspaw" on "Star Trek" that I saw before, and have finally gotten in touch with Stephen Waite to see the dance program at the Bijou. Get out at 6:55 to meet him at 7:25, but the subways move well and I'm there just at that time, to have him ask if we'll be the only ones there, since not too many people have gone in. "All American Moving Muscle" is pretty awful (see DIARY 11056), and the worst part is the stage-work of Seamus Murphy, who happens to be Dennis's friend. But it's out at 8:40, Stephen's going to watch Elizabeth II having dinner at the White House with commentary by Jean Marsh and Julia Child, and I'm home to get to the index for the first time today at 9:10, and work through until Dennis arrives at 10:40, having pressed the bell until it STUCK, then showered, saying the "Street Scene" rehearsal went well, but he's rehearsing Friday night and Saturday afternoon, so Poughkeepsie IS out, which is good, since I only worked 1.5 hours today. We smoke and listen to Mahavishnu's "Apocalypse," not that bad, and play around until he comes, make popcorn that we don't finish, and then I wait until morning, and we get to sleep at 1:20, he not wanting to set the alarm because he doesn't want to know how few hours he'll be sleeping tonight.
DIARY 11057
THURSDAY, JULY 8. Alarm rings at 8 and we're barely awake before it's 8:20 and Dennis says he has to get up. I give him the rest of the Country Morning cereal with orange juice and coffee, and I have Rice Krispies, and he leaves about 9:15. I make the bed and put the dishes away and wipe off the table where he's spilled a glass of orange juice, and I don't feel like typing, so I kill white flies and get down to the index at 9, trying to make up for yesterday, and things seem to be going well, though I'm putting in a scattering of clips for future work, and about 2 (the weather is cool, so it's lovely and comfortable working this longest day) I call Joann and ask more questions, and she gets all uptight about not having time, how I should make notes on the index, and then Margaret Willard calls and insists that I get it in BEFORE the 16th, but I simply refuse, getting rather riled inside though calm outside, and then I call her back when it dawns on me that she can send a messenger out, maybe Tuesday?, for the first half of the pages, so she likes THAT. Continue working until 6, staring to feel hungry, and have tuna during a "Star Trek" that has a STURGEON story that I'd missed, this only 72 out of 79 episodes, "Amok Time" with Spock going crazy for his promised wife, who makes him challenge Kirk, who's given a knock-out potion ala Juliet by McCoy, and the woman ends up looking VERY stupid to get the man she loves. Back to index at 7, having decided NOT to attend est's "Body #7," missing a program I wanted to see at 8, and work through until 10:30, when I watch Eliot Feld's "Tsaddik" on Channel 13 (see DIARY 11058), and then back from 11:15 to 12:45 to finish the first five boxes out of 7, taking 22 hours to do them, working 13 hours today and feeling pretty good about it. Then shower, have watermelon, cut my middle finger left hand---sabotaging index?---and decide to smoke and come for the first time alone in a long time, and it develops into AN EVENING (see DIARY 11059). Eat popcorn from last night, have some cookies, drink some Pepsi, then get onto raisins before smoking again and getting to bed at 4:20 am, another example of going completely off my nut when there isn't someone around to impress me with a somewhat more traditional sense of time and priorities of action. Have NO trouble getting to sleep then at ALL.
DIARY 11060
FRIDAY, JULY 9. Phone rings for a carpet company at 7, but I have no trouble getting back to sleep, finally crawling out of bed at 10:20, figuring that 6 hours sleep is enough, but AFTER coming for a SECOND time, just to get off. Then fix up the apartment, water the plants, and get down to typing these five pages to catch up to date at 12:15. Have breakfast first, then down for the mail, which I skim quickly and throw most of it out without reading the Soho Weekly News OR the Thousand Eyes paper, and then get down to editing, doing one box between 1 and 4, a new record of three hours, and then from 4 to 6 work on the last box, eat tuna while seeing that I've seen the "Star Trek," and then from 6:20 to 7:20 finish the last box. Talk to Dennis, who's going to Guy's afterward, and then back to the final editing, putting the pages back into shape for reference and bringing the seven boxes onto the desk in eight boxes to make them easier to look through, and I've eliminated almost 1000 cards, but I'm sure I still have more than 7000 lines to type---it'd be nice if I could get over page 300 in an index! Work from 7:30 to 2:30, taking time off for a half hour for hamburgers for dinner (didn't HAVE tuna today), and finally skim through the old edition's index to copy good sees and see alsos into mine, but I think mine's going to be better. Filled out a check for the TDF which should have been in postmarked before midnight tonight, but I just don't get out, only to take the garbage down (no, this was last night). Then think of eating something, but nothing appeals to me, so I just have water, wash my face, and smoke at 2:45, hoping that it would have been earlier, but that's the time it is, having worked 12.5 hours today and finished with everything but the typing. No one calls on the telephone, the woman upstairs fucked on the floor last night, sending out shouts and cries until HE grunted a few times, and then they settled into their usual what-sounds-to-be-an-argument manner of speaking before and after. The woman on the ground floor in front appears to have her television turned loudly right into the airshaft, so I put in earplugs and fall asleep without troubles.
DIARY 11061
SATURDAY, JULY 10. Phone rings at 9, waking me just after the dog started barking that REALLY woke me, and it's a woman from EB that I tell to come at 10. Loaf until 9:45, and dress to hear MY bell ringing, and the bell downstairs didn't work AGAIN, but Mrs. Johnson let her in. She talks to me from 10 to 10:30, but it's gone UP from $599 last year to $699 this year, and the discount is only $50, with $100 for the trade-in, but with the tax and $30 shipping charge it's STILL $630, really too much. Then Mrs. Johnson comes in to spray, I tell her about the bell, and I go out at 10:55 to hunt for an IBM typewriter ribbon and mail the TDF letter, but all the stationery stores are closed, and the woman in A&S says there's NO chance for me before Monday! Back buying limeade and picking up the mail at 12, then up to kill flies, eat cereal for breakfast, and type this single page for the day after watering the plants and brushing my teeth and taking pills, at 1:05 pm. Then type 50 pages in the 4 hours between 1:05 and 5:25, interrupted by Rolf ringing the bell downstairs and coming up to get back his stock-market book that I hadn't finished reading yet, and that's 12½ pages per hour, better than I would have expected. Dennis comes in then, after I've showered and washed the dishes in preparation for his coming at 6:05, and we have cantaloupe and frozen daiquiris, then steak and beans and watermelon for dessert, finishing off a lot of stuff in my fridge. He insists that we leave for the theater at 7:15, so we get out at 7:22, and then have time to watch a black woman jiving back and forth on the street talking about the Bible, and get up to see "The Royal Family," pretty good (see DIARY 11062). Then call Joan, and we subway down to her place on the BMT and give her the grass she said she had to have tonight, and find that the carbon ribbons for the typewriter that she'd offered to me were too big for mine. Pat's got a beard and is wearing cutoffs, and Dennis is rather attracted to him, and they're coming over to dinner on Friday, to show Pat my apartment. Joan starts pooping out on my grass, and at 12:10 I tell Dennis that he'd wanted to see Helen Humes, so we do (see DIARY 11063), and get out at 1:15, walk to 14th Street, and subway here for FABULOUS sex, both coming VERY nicely, until 2:15, delighted to be together again after a WHOLE DAY APART!
DIARY 11064
SUNDAY, JULY 11. I wake at 8:30 to the damn barking dog, but Dennis sleeps through until 10:30, and then we start cuddling, I look in on Camera Three to find that the laser pictures are only scribbles on orchestral scenes, and then we go at it again and again, until I've come again and he's come again, and he even starts working on a third time for himself, but then he says he'll leave it for later, and we're out of bed about 12:05. I don't feel like making breakfast right away, so we have cantaloupe and then read the Times for a bit, and finally I put bacon in the broiler and eggs in the frying pan, but they still don't come out, but the bacon is great, and we finish about 2. Neck, and then Dennis says that he wants to go home, but I want him to see "Metropolis" so he goes to the Promenade while I type from 2:30 to 4:30, trying to get the most out of the carbon ribbon that I have, and he's back, saying that the bell didn't work for the most part, and we sit watching something about Morton Gould past 4:30 and past 5, and I try calling Channel 13 but the lines are all tied up, so he leaves, later calling to say that he doesn't want to see the Russian Festival, and then I get back to typing from 5:30 to 6:30, but the carbon gives out and this ribbon is just TOO light, so I stop at page 84, having not really been in the mood for typing anyway, and get to the puzzles, which I finish in good time, and then finish reading the Times at about 9:30. Put hamburger on to broil about 9:55, take a shower to wash off the 4 comes on my chest and get ready for an early bed, and then have dinner until 10:45, reading the est calendar lecture. Then smoke until 11 and put in the earplugs and fall right to sleep, happy from the wine, though my stomach is still full from dinner. I wake during the night at 4 am with the vivid memory of a dream (see DIARY 11065) which I take notes on so I won't forget, and take a piss and drink some water and have reasonable difficulty getting back to sleep, thinking about everything that I have to do, including calling Don to tell him that I don't want to take the trip. Toss for maybe 15 minutes, having opened the window because it's gotten very stuffy, and end up sleeping on my BACK and feeling good about it.
DIARY 11066
MONDAY, JULY 12. Wake at 4, described on DIARY 11064, have the dream on DIARY 11065, wake again at 7, again at 8, and just DON'T feel like getting up, so I lay and doze and finally get up at 9:15, having been in bed over 10 hours, trying to catch up with my energies for a busy week with the index, and immediately get to meditate from 9:25 to 9:45, and then get out to buy a money order for the checking account, pick up two typewriter ribbons, buy "a few" groceries that adds up to a bill of $13.09, and get back to eat breakfast, call Arnie, call Stephen who will join me tomorrow night and will buy the pair of ballet tickets for the 27th, and then get to these 5 pages to catch up to date by 1 pm, the woman upstairs putting on a loud record to get away from my typing noise, though I HAVE shut the French doors for more silence. From 1 to 5:30 I type to page 140, 56 pages in 4.5 hours, figuring that this is about 1/2. Then I kill flies, somewhat fewer in the kitchen, more in the living room on the avocado, water the plants, and make dinner to have during "Star Trek" which is a duplicate, but at least I get the right title for "Wolf in the Fold," and read est's calendar. Dennis calls to say he might come over after rehearsal, but he doesn't. I get back to typing at 7:30 and go on to 10:10, finishing to page 175, 35 pages in 2.5 hours, or 13 per hour, and then I start proofreading, which goes quite slowly compared with the other stuff, doing about 36 pages/hour, proofreading to page 92 in that 2.5 hours. Feeling rather tired: the thrill is off doing this particular index, and already I'm too conscious about the coming end of the work; therefore, I'm counting each page and the hours too carefully to lose myself in the work and have it go effortlessly. But at least the fan keeps the noises away from me. It's getting somewhat cool as I shower to relax after the 9.5 hours of work today, and when I smoke the hands on the clock have moved around to optimal positions for taking each puff for a minute or more and ending just beyond a hand: the alarm is set for 8, and it's 1:30, so the hands are essentially trisecting the clock face. Debate coming for only a moment, and then I'm asleep to store up energy for ANOTHER day at the index.
DIARY 11067
TUESDAY, JULY 13. Wake about 8:30 and doze until 9:25, deciding that 8 hours has to be enough in bed, and get out, immediately get to the desk at 9:30 (it helps that it's warm enough not to put on clothes, but it's cool enough not to worry about putting the fan on and opening the French doors). Proofread to page 149 at 11, figuring that the end of the Ls are enough for the first half, and then from 11 to 12:30 check the alphabetization and other checks, and then call Margaret at the dot of 1. She's not in, and neither is Joann, and I'm frustrated: if they think it's in such a hurry, they should at least be there for my call. Leave word that my bell may cause trouble for the messenger, then get back to work to have Margaret call at 1:20 to say that the messenger is THERE, but can't get in! I say that, again, my bell may not be working, and she says, when she calls back, that he's THERE, so I've packed it up just in TIME! Down at 1:30 to find two blacks at a black truck who ask for Bob, so they take it and take off. Amazing! Wait until Wednesday or Thursday to chew Margaret out for sending a messenger when I said I would just CALL them then! Then have tuna-lunch at 1:30, reading est stuff on the financial report, and then get back to typing from 2-5, typing to page 212, 37 pages in three hours less 15 minutes that I took to shit, and that's over 12, in fact over 13 pages per hour, so things are going well. Think that I might have it all done by THURSDAY, which would give me the day of Friday to take it in, do errands, and prepare dinner for Dennis and Joan and Pat. Then shower and shave, Steve having called about meeting at 7:45, and check "Star Trek" to see that it's a dupe, and then do this page by 6:30, the only one of the day! Brush my teeth, take my pills, make the bed, fertilize the plants, dress, and leave by 7, to get there at 7:30! Read more Boehme, meet Stephen at 7:45, give him the three tickets for a $22 check, and we're in to the Russian Festival of Music and Dance (see DIARY 11068)f, lots of what I'd seen before, lots of good new stuff. Out at 10:15, walk with him to Dennis's, getting lots of bad stuff from him about crime and violence [and the bell rings just NOW with Jehovah's Witnesses about crime and violence!], and to Dennis's, who's been napping since 9:30. We talk, smoke, have great sex on the floor at a time when I don't REALLY feel like it, but it feels great. Bed EARLY at 12:30 am!
DIARY 11071
WEDNESDAY, JULY 14. Wake at alarm at 8, too tired to cuddle, both of us, and Dennis is out of bed at 8:15, showering, exercising, shaving, drying hair, and he makes hamburger for breakfast, we leave at 9:40. I get home at 10, having bought a gallon of wine, then sit down to type these four pages and BOB ROSINEK calls at 11:15, saying he's back early to get his driver's license and wants to come over! I finish this QUICKLY at 11:20 and go SHOWER! Someone lets him in at noon, we talk about his trip and how the feelings that he should have felt for his mother were felt for his aunt, who raised him as the person HE was, rather than as the person she WANTED him to be. But neither he nor Nina loved the vacation with nothing to do and Key West not what they expected it, so they came back yesterday and today he wanted to get the forms for picking up a driver's license, so he had a free afternoon. He drank soda, we smoked, he put on some Moodies that he wanted to hear, I later got out the Mystic Moods tape, and then we got into sex (see DIARY 11072). He left about 4, which was a relief, since I feared I wouldn't be together enough to finish the index in the next two days, and I sat down and typed pages from 4:25 to 9, getting up to page 270 and well into the last box of cards, and then went to watch TV for a program that was scheduled for TOMORROW night, and got hooked into watching the first chapter of "Jennie: Lady Randolph Churchill" with Lee Remick and a rather lavish production about two nicely fetchingly independent people. Then the next-to-the-last chapter of "Notorious Woman" was announced, and I sat through THAT, watching Rosemary Harris wonder what she did to deserve a daughter who seemed crazy enough to leave her ministering care for the love of a man, no one bothering to point up that HER mother had been treated the same way by HER. Then I by chance switch to see what's going on in the convention, just in time to watch Carter's first-ballot voting reach 900+, and then Massachusetts passed, which robbed New York of the chance of putting him over, leaving it to Ohio, neat, and I watched until midnight, when it all seemed to be over, and then proofread from 12 to 2:15 and alphabetized and fussed from 2:15 to 3:30, calculated I had about three hours of work left, which is perfect, and smoked and went to sleep, having set the alarm, in case, for 10:30 am.
DIARY 11073
THURSDAY, JULY 15. Wake at 9, and laze until 9:30, when 6 hours sleep feels like enough, and call Margaret to say I'll bring the index in around 3, and then get to typing the last bit and proofreading everything and making out the final letters from 9:55 to 12:25. But it's still not finished, so I put back the table, pack up the galleys, combine the cards into six boxes and put them all away, and about 1 the place looks like it had BEFORE I got into the index. Figure that I'd worked 123 hours on it, increasing it to 308, so put in a bill for $1248. Shave and shower and have lunch while reading New York Magazine, then leave about 2 to get to the library and do some checking on my booklist, taking off another Huxley because "Young Archimedes" has all the stories in "Little Mexican," finding they have LOTS of the books that I want to BUY, so I could just go there and READ them! Out at 3:10 and Margaret's in a meeting at 3:15 and Joann's not there. Talk to John Cernusca, who has a quickie index for me, and then leave at 3:40, saying that I'll leave everything. Then up to Harper and Row and pick up "Into Space" that I'd ordered there, then up to Mason's to get back $37.80 for the faulty "Mysterium Magnum," and then Lexington subway down to Weiser's to buy the same book for $30 and pick up their last copy of "Signature of All Things," for $7.75, and buy all THREE books for little more (less than $3 more) than I'd bought the two. Home at 5:15 to get a message from Dennis that he'll be over this evening, spend lovely time updating the booklist, putting read books onto the shelves and arranging the 84 books I still have to read, and Fred comes in quickly at 6:30 to pick up three bottles, I'm listening to the not-so-great "Siege of Corinth" with Sills and Verrett, deciding I'm just not INTO opera at this point, wash the dishes, check the seeing of "Star Trek," get rid of some junk from the shelves atop the desk by reading "New Age Journal" and other things, and then cook steaks in time to watch "The Real World" about the Yonomano Indians of Venezuela who inhale hallucinogens, are related, and fight a lot. That's to 10:40, then Dance for Camera has Dan Wagoner's "George's House," odd but not very dancy with 6-8 women, then Dennis is in at 11:20, showers, I cook steak for him, we have wine together to 12, smoke, but cuddling produces fatigue and sleep, so we sleep at 1:30.
DIARY 11074
FRIDAY, JULY 16. Wake at 8:45, not having set the alarm, and he showers quickly, I make soft-boiled eggs and coffee for him, he eats quickly, not quite awake yet, and leaves at 9:35, sure to be late. I put things away and read the New York Times he left from today (Friday), even working the very easy puzzle, and debate doing almost nothing, but get myself to the typewriter to finish these three pages by 11:25. Jim Moulton's lover gets 2 poppers. Then decide that what I REALLY want to do today is sort out the diary pages, so I hunt for the blue sheets, finally finding them at the end of the Table of Contents volume, and put on raga music and sort the almost 1800 pages into their piles, and then take the Journal section and type the contents for that, and get to typing the two new sheets for the volume 16 when it's 4, and I decide that I HAVE to get started on plans for this evening. Try calling Dennis but there's no answer at the club. Call Lauren and say I haven't gotten my check yet, and then Wendy Ruoff calls through Dick Sime from McGraw-Hill, saying she has a rush copyediting job for me for next week, if I can take it, so I can. Leave a note for Dennis on the door, and get $10 worth of groceries for the party, mostly meat, and put the chicken in the oven at 5:20. Shower and Dennis arrives at 5:40, and then Pat calls at 5:45 to say they haven't left yet, Joan is looking for a piece of paper. So Dennis and I have sloe screws, start on our cantaloupe, and they're not here by 6:30, so we start on the chicken, and they're left in by someone. Dennis leaves at 6:55, I serve Joan the chicken while Patrick rambles on about some story, and I keep drinking wine, as is Joan after a bit, when she loses her taste for club soda and lemon, and then I spill a WHOLE glass of Pat's wine on my rug, but it seems to come up OK, and we're listening to music, talking, I'm escaping to the kitchen when I have to, and then I get out the pipe. The evening gets more and more bizarre, ending up with Pat flouncing home alone and Joan pleading to stay here, so that's what happens, and we're all so tired by the time we get to bed at 2:30 that it hardly matters that Joan's here and we can't have sex; but it was a STRANGE evening (see DIARY 11075) and I'm glad it was cool enough through the night.
DIARY 11076A
SATURDAY, JULY 17. Wake about 10 when the phone rings on the service, and it's Richard asking to be called back. Dennis calls and invites him for breakfast, and then I send him to the store (having to run after him when I forget to tell him to bring white bread for French toast) while I do the dishes from last night and wake Joan up about 10:30. Dennis knocks (then phones) to invite John but he doesn't answer. Richard arrives just after I and Joan put the bacon on to broil, Dennis cares for the coffee by making a second pot that he doesn't put the top on properly so everyone has to chew their grounds carefully, and Dennis has to leave for rehearsal, Joan to meet Pat who's leaving about 7 this evening, and Richard who's leaving for Spain this evening! They file out about 12:30, taking garbage with them, and I do dishes for the SECOND time in the day, put away the table for the SECOND time in two days, and put things back into order and finish typing these two pages by 2 pm, eager to get ON with the filing of the diary pages. Rolf calls at 4:30, saying the Promenade is beautiful, and I go to his place to sample Yeungling Ale and Porter, and see the view, nice, for FIVE minutes before getting bored and back home at 5:45. Terry calls---I get in touch with him, rather---and says he'll be over for poppers, and Dennis had just said he'd ring my phone ONCE when he leaves home for here, so I tell him to ring TWICE from the subway station. I get on with the filing of the diary pages, a long task which I make longer by reading tempting pages, and SOMEONE rings ONCE, and then ONCE AGAIN, and I CAN'T tell who it would be, except that Terry doesn't quickly come from the subway. So I guess it's Dennis, whom I wanted to shower for, but Terry doesn't arrive until 7:10, after I've checked that the "Space 1999" is a duplicate, and tells me that Dror had cut his wrist, needing hospitalization, and I'm still talking with him at 7:30 when Dennis arrives. Then I shower, as does Dennis, and I put on steak which we eat, and then watch Channel 7 delay the opening ceremonies for the Olympics until after 9, having started at 8:30, and I watch the beginning of "Madwoman of Chaillot" with an INCREDIBLY boring start with Yul Brynner as the Chairman and other mad people finding oil under Chaillot, and then decide to shut it off at 9:45, since Dennis has been sucking away, saying "I haven't come since WEDNESDAY night." We smoke, drink daiquiris and sloe screws, and suck and sex and suck and sex until we both come copiously, though I WANTED him to come in my hand, he finally came by his OWN hand all over my chest, as I did. Watch "Saturday Night," a repeat with Elliot Gould, 11:45-1:15. Sleep about 1:30.
DIARY 11077
SUNDAY, JULY 18. I wake early, but Dennis sleeps until about 10, seemingly needing it, and then we have sex until about 11:30, when he makes his own coffee and I get out for the Times, and a half pound of butter. Put on the rest of the bacon to broil and make my scrambled eggs for him, but he keeps putting off eating, making me rather uptight, being rather short with him when he asks me who should do what and I tell him HE should do it or no one will, and I kick myself for not saying I'm annoyed with him for not eating my bacon while it's HOT, as I like it. Then he wants to read some of the Times, I read a few magazine articles, debating what to do, making reservations for the Negro Ensemble Company for tonight, the last performance of something Dennis wants to see, and then we decide to smoke and have SEX during the day, and we do, smoking, drinking, having sex on the floor in front of the mirror, where he jerks off quite quickly and then I COME myself quickly. Then we're back to the papers for a bit more reading, and we shower and shave (he'd brought me a straight razor yesterday, and I told him that HE brings me THAT and Bob Rosinek will bring me the Seth book: everything comes to me who waits; or as est would say, my problems solve themselves while I live my life.), while I complain about the sliminess of the Dial soap, and then we're out (no, have the steak for dinner TONIGHT, not last night) after eating steak for dinner about 5:45, at 5:50 to get to the theater at 6:30 and pick up the tickets, then walk down to look at 5th Street between B and C, the location of the play, and back for "Livin' Fat," not bad (see DIARY 11078), from 7:10 to 9:10, then we can't decide what to do, wander down to pick up tickets for the Bottom Line for Friday, then across to the Village and subway up to his place about 10:30, me reading his journal and getting hung on his crossing out "Bob does not" when he was going to say SATISFY him sexually, meaning he was INSATIABLE, but I said I thought he put down NOTHING negative about me, and we had a LONG talk about that, finally smoking some of the $20 grass he got from Stephen, he comes and I don't, and I smoke a LOT, trying to get some effect from it, and I seem to feel logy the next day because of all the grass I smoked this evening. Bed about 1:30 again.
DIARY 11079
MONDAY, JULY 19. Wake when the phone rings, but he doesn't answer it, putting on the service, and then we have sex, have sex, and get up to eat, taking a LONG time for him to shower, and I get out one of his Museum of Modern Art books and read a sentence about how we are "marked" by modern art, and talk for a couple of hours about THAT. Leave at 12:45 and I figure the bookshop is open, but it opens at 1, or later, and I don't feel like waiting, so I get to the subway and get home thoroughly engrossed in "When Worlds Collide," so much so that I water the plants, brush my teeth, and settle down to read the rest of the book in one sitting. That makes me somewhat fatigued, combined with the grass from last night, so I lay down for about a half an hour, and then get back up to start reading "After Worlds Collide" and do a bit more on the diary pages, wanting to finish with them. It's cooler today, which is pleasant, I check "Star Trek" to find it's a duplicate, and have been busy working out the puzzles in the Times, rather hard ones today, AND this morning I called Larry Price to sell the 5 IBM for about 274 and buy 300 United Asbestos for 4 1/16, though it closed the day at 3 15/16, so Rolf says, so HE probably bought some, and Larry calls a couple of times to keep me posted, after trying to discourage me for about a half an hour, and then Arnie calls to chat, saying he's going to the Island with Bob for a few days, and then Rolf comes over about 7:30 to bring my book back and a bottle of porter for me to have cold, and then he wants to see the start of "Dying" from 8 to 9:40, and he stays to see it all; it's not bad, but we don't find it "enough," though Pope raves about it tomorrow. Then watch the "visualization of Liebestod" again, and I smoke while Rolf scoffs, talking about trips down the Fallopian tubes, and then he leaves, I shave and shower, waiting for Dennis to come in with his OWN keys, and he does about 10:30, so I stop reading, he starts smoking, we have frozen daiquiris, we smoke, and get into sex on the sofa, move into the bedroom, and he comes before I do, and I try VERY hard but can't get it off, and so we turn over and get to sleep about 1:20, me feeling tired, he tired from the errands he had to run today and a GOOD singing lesson.
DIARY 11080
TUESDAY, JULY 20. I wake about 8:30, phone rings from McGraw-Hill, at 9:45, saying that the messenger is being sent in 15 minutes, and Dennis is finally awake at 10, having slept over 8½ hours, and we have good sex, he coming in my MOUTH and I bringing myself off quickly, and then I'm down at 11 to see why the messenger hasn't come yet, and Mrs. Johnson isn't THERE. Dennis showers while I fuss around, finally getting the stuff from her about 11:30, and Dennis and I had French toast for breakfast, he going out to get coffee for himself while I make the breakfast, and then he leaves about 2:45, and I glanced at the stuff and called her for a question at 12, then read some more of the stuff laying around the TERRIBLY messy apartment, watered the plants, and then read about Mariner landing on Mars THIS morning, so I turn on Channel 13 to see if they're relaying back pictures, and it turns out to be "Androcles and the Lion" with Jean Simmons, Victor Mature, Maurice Evans, Elsa Lancester, and lots of other people, with a lovable nebbish (Alan Young) whose name I don't remember as Androcles. Watch that until 2:35, kiss Dennis goodbye, and look at the AWFUL mess in the place, and decide I WANT to finish the diary pages, so I get to those at 3, doing and doing and doing, and take time off to talk to Pope, who doesn't want the Nureyev ticket tomorrow night, so I guess I'll have to go to the theater to sell it (and Shelley called about 10:15, and I let him talk to Dennis at last, having coincidentally read in his Backstage yesterday morning that Time-Life has signed up Ron Greenburg Productions for a quiz show!). Stop about 8 to have dinner of hamburger (which I'd prepared for myself late night when Rolf was here, and he'd just eaten), and then FINISH the pages at 10:30, making all my lists and totals up to date and setting the shelves to rights for one neatening time, and then get to these four pages up to date, now, at 11:10 pm. Then tackle the apartment, reading the Times and piling those papers on a pile to be taken out, and then put ALL the books to be read (85 of them, and it would have been 86 if I'd done it yesterday, before I finished "When Worlds Collide"), and total up the number of pages I have to read in the COMPLETE book of lists, and then it's 1:30, I smoke a bit and get to bed about 1:45.
DIARY 11081
WEDNESDAY, JULY 21. The damn dog starts barking at 8:15, then again at 8:30, then again at 8:45, and by 9:15 I've "slept" 7½ hours and get up, frustrated to be so upset by the barking dog. Then have breakfast in the midst of the mess, and then start to clean UP the mess, putting the clothes away, the papers to be thrown out, mail either into the desk or thrown away, and then, room by room, the place is neat. Even go through the desk drawer and throw away est stuff so that there's room in the bottom filing system. Then I call Dennis at 11 to say hello, and he's coming for dinner about 5:30 or 6, and it seems like the day is OVER already. Wash the dishes while listening to tape, and then put another tape on while I dust the furniture, washing the window-sill paper, scouring the bathroom sink and tub, washing the kitchen floor, fixing the broken drawer, and feeling GREAT about getting all the things done. Pound a nail for the wire to the kitchen that it had needed, and I get the feeling that it's GETTING DONE! Then vacuum, Fred Bassoff calls to say he'll be over at 6 for poppers, and the only thing I DON'T do today is get started on the copyediting for McGraw-Hill! Try calling Pope to see if he wants the ballet ticket, but NO one seems to, so I figure I'll just have to sell it myself. Finish cleaning everything and then shower and shave and wash my hair, and just as I'm about to put the page in to finish for the day, Dennis comes in at 5:30, and I finish up THIS page to date at 5:45. He phones his service and finds that, because of the drizzle during the day and the danger of rain this evening, the rehearsal has been switched from 5th St. to the director's office at 8, so we eat steak leisurely with his sloe screw, and have watermelon for dessert, getting out at 7:15. Catch BOTH subways immediately, so I get to Lincoln Center at 7:40 and sell the ticket to the Canadians at 7:50, having a rather slow time doing it. Then over to buy three tickets for the ABT, seeing BOTH "Push" and "Pas de Duke," as it turns out, and home at 8:35 to skim the Voice (nothing in it) that Dennis left and turn on TV for a rather boring middle interlude of "Jennie, Lady Randolph" and a wistful ending of "Notorious Woman, George Sand." Read EB on Sand and Chopin, and finish "After Worlds Collide," VERY unsatisfactory and slap-dash, at 1, and bed WITHOUT smoking. Toss a bit before going to sleep about 1:20; wake with dream (see DIARY 11082).
DIARY 11083
THURSDAY, JULY 22. Wake at 7 with anal distress, and think to shit from the chocolate cookies and almost-sour milk last night, but only piss and can't move my bowels. Back to bed, waiting for the dog to bark, but I doze and wake at 9:15 to a blowing horn, and I hop out of bed almost immediately, have breakfast, trying to finish the milk and Rice Krispies, then shoo the white flies from the living room, killing only about 10, and then in the kitchen, where they've grown to more than 110. Finally finish another Scientific American, pleased that the torn sheets fit into the desk-file drawer now that I've cleaned it out a bit, type up the dream from this morning (see DIARY 11082) and finish this page to here at 10:30. Then review the specs and start on the CAREER CORE COMPETENCIES copyediting for McGraw-Hill until 12:50, when Joan calls and talks for a half-hour about Patrick, saying that I should get his checks to a bank, quick! Dress to go out, but decide that I can wait until 2, when I leave for "Clockwatchers," so I eat tuna until 2, take the opera back to the library, cash checks, and get on the subway so early that I'm downtown at 2:30. So over to the lending library, downstairs, to be surprised that the catalog is now in BOOKS, and find FEW of what I want being lent, only a Huxley at 8 E. 40th. Then over to Ron Greenburg for a celebrity panel of five new FELLOWS (see DIARY 11084), and out at 4 to the Mid-Manhattan Library and find there's no circulating copy of "Essays Old and New," only a reference copy, so I sit and READ it from 4:15 to 6:55, all 306 pages of it, taking copious notes (see DIARY 11085) in case I never GET a copy of it. Then put the book back and dash out toward the Belmont Hotel, stopping for a GREAT slice of pizza at Sbarro for 45¢, and get there in time to piss and wash my face. It's an awful seminar until 9:50, and then a DYNAMITE process on the body makes the whole thing worthwhile again (see DIARY 11088). Out at 10:30 and call Dennis, who left word ten minutes ago that he'll be there in 20 minutes, and then I call back to say I'll be there in 20 minutes and would love an omelet. He's happy with his ad in Backstage, I'm happy about the day; shower, he makes spaghetti and meat sauce since he had only little at 5:30, and then we finish the vodka and blackberry brandy, smoke, and get into GREAT sex: he coming in a fountain on my chest after getting VERY turned on, my spurting an ENORMOUS worm of come. Bed AFTER 2 am.
DIARY 11090
FRIDAY, JULY 23. Wake probably around 10, but I'd forgotten to put my watch by the bed. Wake earlier, sweating, and pissed and put on the air conditioner. He ignores the ringing phone, which pisses me, but we start playing with cock and getting VERY hard, me saying that my cock was SO hard last night, ALL AROUND, that I hardly recognized it. AGAIN I take myself in hand and shoot a large jet onto my chest, which Dennis loves to watch, and takes my come and jerks himself off nicely, and I'm aghast when I look at my watch to see that it's 11:45! Phone rings AGAIN, which he ignores, then puts on the service and starts calling people about his part in "Street Scene." I read New Yorker and an Updike "Journal of a Leper" story, then have GREAT omelet mixed with yogurt and out at 1:20. I'd been wanting to get back to Barqu, so I do, looking at a bloody-headed woman who'd just been hit by a van in the street, Broadway and 89th, sheltered by a police car, and get Bradbury's "The Anthem Sprinters" which wasn't even on my LIST, which they had outside, and they have Huxley's "Science, Liberty and Peace" for $5 (for 63 pages), which I get, both, for $6.40 including tax, so the 1963 Dover Bradbury was less than $1. Home finishing "Kitchen Primer" on the subway to bring my lists up to date AGAIN, at 2:15, and there's a NEW BELL PLATE DOWNSTAIRS!! Read the mail, letter from Rita, phone TDF to find we're not going to "Vanities," phone Princess Pamela and start negotiations for a party of 15 on August 1, and Dennis will see her tomorrow at noon. Phone Arnie and Pope, and when I finish these seven busy pages, I'm appalled to find that it's as late as 5:50 pm! Water plants, then find that "Gamesters of Triskelion" is a "Star Trek" I haven't seen before, so I watch eating hamburger, then work from 7:15 to 9:30, getting to page 35, which needs a major revision, and I'm beginning to worry about finishing these by Tuesday. Then shower, shave, and get to Joan's at 10:35, drizzling lightly (outside, neither Joan nor me), and we talk about grass and Patrick until Dennis arrives at 11:10, just as Joan says "Presto, there's Dennis." We talk about publicity for "Street Scene," smoke, all three of us, and leave at 11:30 for James Cotton at the Bottom Line (see DIARY 11091). Out at 3:15, home at 4:15, exhausted, and get RIGHT to sleep.
DIARY 11092
SATURDAY, JULY 2. Set the alarm at 10:30, but the barking dog wakes me before that, and then Dennis doesn't stir except to shut it off at 10:30, until I lay on top of him at 10:45. Make coffee for him and he comes around, then we have scrambled eggs and toast and juice and coffee until 11:45 when I try phoning Princess Pamela to say we won't be there at noon. But there's no answer, though I keep trying, even three single rings, and then from 12:30 the line is busy. He leaves at 12:15; I go down for the mail and we test to find that the bell WORKS now; and then I'm up to water the plants, kill the white flies, up over 130 in the kitchen again, and type two pages by 1:10 pm. Then from 1:15 to 3:45 I copyedit to page 69, and on to 4:30 edit to page 81 of CAREER CORE COMPETENCIES, still going slower than I would have hoped. Finally get to Princess Pamela, who tells me to send in $50 deposit, that it'll be OK if we have to postpone it from August 1 to August 8; so Dennis if off the hook in having to talk with her. Call Paul Bosten, who's interested in coming, as is Michael Sullivan, who calls right after that. Then Michael wants to borrow my 12 West card, and it's 5:30, so I'm into the shower, shave, and then check the "Star Trek" title and get out at 6:10 to give the card to Michael in the 72nd St. subway station at 6:35, and up to Dana's at 7:05, giving them an invitation to the dinner, but they can't go because it's Jody's FATHER'S birthday. Dennis arrives 10 minutes later, there's tuna-cream dip, screwdrivers, and then good fried chicken, cornbread muffins, homemade French fries, crinkle-cut, cole slaw, and then a birthday cake from Carvel with three candles after we try a tasty Strawberry Cow, which Jody is allergic to. [And just now I searched and FOUND the April 11, 1959, playbill from the Shubert Theater in Philadelphia for the "Gypsy" performance that lasted until 12:05 pm.] Talk, look at neat cassette movies in a Bell and Howell's Double Exposure projector that he got for $60, which seems GREAT for what I want it for, porno! Then leave at 11:45, finish reading "The Anthem Sprinters" (see DIARY 11093) and get to Dennis's to look through the Times, smoke, and he comes but I try and don't, and we get to bed very late, something like 2:30, I suppose.
DIARY 11095
SUNDAY, JULY 25. Wake early and lie next to Dennis while he refused to get aroused enough to even open his eyes, and I reach for my watch at 10:58 JUST when the phone rings; uncanny! It's his folks, I start on the puzzles, he makes fried eggs and muffins for breakfast, and then a friend calls, Frank, that he'll go over to see. I finish the Times, clipping out lots of travel articles, and we leave about 1, and I get down to leave the travel stuff for Don, on his doorknob, and get home at 2:15 to finish the puzzle and kill white flies and get back to copyediting between 3:35 and 8:15, taking out a half-hour to talk to Don, who calls to thank me for leaving the stuff with him. Then have hamburger for dinner and start reading "The Best of Life," in which I get so engrossed that I decide to finish it, doing so by 10, and taking notes just a bit, which I record on DIARY 11094, so that I can leave THIS page in the typewriter. Then search through for the playbill for "Gypsy," but Dana's number isn't listed in the phonebook, so I can't call him, but 10:15 is probably too late anyway. Then type these three pages until 10:55, sorry that Dennis didn't leave his service on so that I could call him and tell him I'm almost finished with the pages, being up to page 150 NOW, and there are only 171 pages in the thing, so I could even take it in TOMORROW, if Shelley would say that I could come in for $5 then, too! Finish the major part of the copyediting from 11 to 12:30, then start "Lost America" while shitting, then smoke and have bidis while wrapping myself in rubber bands while LOVING the porno. But then it doesn't work, as usual, so I get out the Baby LOTION and wring myself out, abrading the rim of my cock unmercifully, finally coming with GREAT intensity and little spraying power, everything in white, slug-like masses in my pubic hair. Up to wipe off, then feel hungry for chocolate cookies, and take up "Chronopolis" to read until 2:30, when I'm tired enough (and my stomach is full enough) for me to feel like going to sleep. Love the SILENCE of this evening, since the woman upstairs is out somewhere, but put in the earplugs anyway and go immediately to sleep, putting the phone near me, in case.
DIARY 11096
MONDAY, JULY 26. Wake at 7:10, coughing, to drink water, and then the phone rings at 10:10 and it's Arnie, having been at Fire Island since Tuesday and then directly to Norma's over the weekend, complaining that his machine is off because he only got three messages but LOTS of phone calls from people who left messages that he didn't get. We talk till 11, then I fertilize the plants and kill white flies, only about 70 in the kitchen, and trim the tops for probably the last time. Am typing this one page for the day when BobR calls about next Tuesday, and I call Dennis and he's STILL not answering. Finish this at 12. Then have breakfast, brush my teeth and use the waterpik in preparation for calling Rosey Sheik, and get a call from Margaret Willard about a 2000-page Pediatrics index that must be finished by the end of October, tightest possible schedule. Then work on the end of the copyediting for McGraw-Hill from 1:45 to 3:45, deciding to charge her $170, and by coincidence Dick Sime calls and we talk about Ginny, and I refuse a proofreading job he wants me to take. Call Wendy to arrange leaving off the book, but she's gone already. Then shower and shave and watch a lot of the start of "Star Trek" before I decide it's the one about the invasion of the universe with a virus that Spock will destroy with antimatter, and call Pope to find he doesn't want to join me for the est sample seminar. Get out at 6:45 and get to the Holiday Inn EXACTLY at 7:15, but it's already started, and there are some humpy numbers in the seminar. Inside as the guests leave, and Sam Morford is a loser as a seminar leader, but the whole thing is a confrontation process that's interesting (see DIARY 11097). Out at 10:30 and call Dennis, but there's no answer, so I wander up to Guy's, asking him if he'd borrowed my book of drawings, no; will I tell him what's wrong with his popper: he uses it too wet, that's why it burns the inside of his nose (the fluid does it); and call Dennis at 10:55 and he's home, wanting to eat. I'm glad I didn't have lunch or dinner and subway up to his place, buying a bottle of Crème de Cassis, and we have Kir cocktails with chicken for a LATE dinner, then smoke and get into sex, but again I don't come in the evening, have to wait until the morning.
DIARY 11099
TUESDAY, JULY 27. We get to bed just before 4, so we're up about 11 and Dennis says he has lots of things to do, but I say I intend to jerk off, so I do, rather quickly, and he does himself on top of me, and then he's quickly into the shower and I'm reading "Smithsonian Journal." He warms up the rest of the chicken and rice for this evening, with the green beans we didn't have last night, and I feel quite full when I leave about 12:50, being 15 minutes late getting to Wendy Ruoff with the copyediting, but she says that's fine, and she's impressed with the level of data on the flags, so she says she'll be back to me with work. I'd called Jack Gilbert for a haircut, but he wasn't there. Home about 2:30, getting lots of messages, and I water the plants, kill white flies, but don't feel like getting down to the diary, or doing ANYTHING. Get out either yesterday or today to the post office, to pick up proof coins, to buy groceries, and to pick up more groceries, and it was probably yesterday that I did this, about 4:30. Want to get down to SOMETHING, but can't think of anything I REALLY want to do: the day's too nice to stay in, but there's nothing to go out for; call Arnie and he's not home, turning out to be at Bob's, and I sit down and read for a bit, but I just feel TIRED. Tune in on "Star Trek" at 6 and find it a repeat, and then just plain lay down, from 6 to 6:30, from 6:30 to 7, not thinking of moving, taking off my clothes, waiting for someone to call, and no one calls. I don't turn on the lights, it gradually gets dark, and the woman upstairs must be away on vacation, so blessedly there's no noise from up THERE, either. Finally move in to the bed about 9, and Dennis calls from home at 11:30 to say that he was tired so just went home, and I say it was just as well. Think I should exercise and meditate tomorrow, and that I should eat SOMETHING now, so I have a bowl of cereal and start reading "Lost America" (east), and then take it to bed to read. THAT doesn't tire me out by 2, so I jerk off rather quickly with the porno and try to sleep, but I'm STILL not sleepy, so rather than lay there, I read "Lost America" (west) and finish at 4, then smoke a bit and finally get to sleep by 4:15, depressed.
DIARY 11100
WEDNESDAY, JULY 28. Get up about 11, having been bothered by the damn dog barking for a half-hour at 8:15, and don't feel particularly hungry, so I don't eat. Put things in order, water plants, but still don't feel like typing ANYTHING. Phone Dennis to say that I'll be late to Wildensteen, 12:45, and shower and wash my hair and shave and get out at 12:15, getting to the gallery at 12:50 and he's still not there. Look at the de Chirico exhibit (see DIARY 11101) and he comes in about 1:05, we look until 1:15, glance at the horrible-color catalog for $3, and out to see Masusura's silk pillows and characters (Liz Taylor, Barbra Streisand, Duse), and down to Charles Jourdan's shoe shop on Fifth and 55th to see MARVELOUS bloated females made out of fabric, and then dash up to Lincoln Center at 1:55 to find the seats confused, to the other side, the lights dim, and we sit next to a mother-son who are driving each other crazy during "Texas Fourth." We move down for the rest of the ballet afternoon (see DIARY 11102) and out at 4:20 to walk uptown, buy groceries, buy fuses that don't fit, and to his hot quiet place where he blew the fuses at 11:15. He makes hamburger and spaghetti and I make a cassis frappe with what's left of his defrosted ice cubes, and we finish his white wine with the meal. Out at 6:55, promising ourselves a chance to cuddle later, and he's down to rehearsal and I'm reading "Chronopolis" by a good new author, Ballard, with GREAT ideas (I'd checked out "Star Trek" and found I'd seen it at Dennis's), and home at 7:30 to water plants and undress and read mail until 8, when I watch "Woman of the Year" with a VERY literate script by Joe Bologna and Renee Taylor, with sex roles somewhat switched in the sportswriter-columnist marriage-romance that ends happily with both doing their things, even better than the Churchill thing that I don't watch, learning there's ANOTHER coming up. Then at 10 I want to watch a thing of mind-bending experiences and there's a special on "Life on Mars" and they'll know in 12 days, and then I switch back and forth between the news and "Mary Hartman" (rerun) from 11 to 11:30, then shower, and Dennis enters about 11:45, showers, has orange juice, tells about the race-talk on 5th Street in re the play, and we smoke Michael's grass and get tired, so NEITHER of us comes, but turn over and fall asleep about 2 am, exhausted.
DIARY 11103
THURSDAY, JULY 29. I wake at night, warm, and go for a drink, opening the door to the living room for circulation. Damn dog barks from 8:15 to 9, then Dennis gets up at 11 and we have sex until 12, jerking off both cocks at the same time until I can't take it, and then I do myself, as does he. He decides he'd prefer tuna salad for lunch, rather than eggs for breakfast, so I make it, we have orange juice (finishing two quarts in 13 hours), toast, and the last of the watermelon. He leaves at 2, sort of wrecking the day, and I try calling Jack Gilbert, Eddie, Murray Louis (back Sunday), and Rolf, getting no answer, and then Art calls, saying he probably won't be there for dinner, and I'm down for the mail, and yesterday he showed me the ad for "Street Scene" in the Centerfold of the Voice, and today it's on the back of the Soho Weekly News, so they're getting THAT coverage, at least. Pope calls to thank me for calling him last night about the Mars show, and we talk for about a half an hour, and I call Stephen for a place to stay until Dennis gets home, but he's with Sandy tonight. Then there's nothing to do but type these seven pages, catching up to date since Monday, see that "Star Trek" is a duplicate, and call Rosey for a dentist's appointment on Tuesday noon. Finish to here at 6:18, happy to be THIS far in the day, anyway. Put pork chops on to broil as I shower, wash my hair, and shave, and then eat dinner to 7:15, dressing in white trousers since the tan are still spotted, and leave for the ballet. It starts late, for them, at 8:05 and it's a pretty poor evening (see DIARY 11104). Out at 11, blessedly late, and it's not raining, only lightning so far, so I walk uptown and buy a gallon of white wine to go with the cassis. To his door, wondering if I'll ring anyone upstairs, and push and IT OPENS, first time ever, and I go triumphantly upstairs, put on the air conditioner, make myself a Kir cocktail, and sit down to read until Dennis enters at 12:30, thinking he'd been robbed to find the door unlocked, and we neck, he showers, cooks some hamburger that we both eat, and get down to sex about 2 and get to bed about 4, both of us coming, necking under the candles with the grass that I'd brought from home, not setting the alarm since no one has to be anywhere tomorrow.
DIARY 11105
FRIDAY, JULY 30. Wake about 11 and he gets out of bed to make coffee fast, so I'm looking through his movie-poster book while he phones people and gets into an omelet for breakfast at 12. Phone Arnie, then remember that the schedule is different for Friday, and find it starts at 2:10 and 3:15. It's 1, but Dennis doesn't want to rush, and we finally get out at 2:45, too late to walk there, so we subway to the Trans-Lux East to find that Richard isn't on duty! Moan to the ticket-taker, but she says to see the box-office woman, and she lets us go in, where "Logan's Run" is perfectly dreadful: no continuity between city/ Washington/ ice caves/ waterfalls; NO reason for Ustinov to be there with his cats; the hologram scene failed with only his heads to show, with a line down the center; NO idea how they'd survive after the city went kablooey, somehow, because he started breaking lighting fixtures in the questioning room. Silly, silly movie. Out and see Richard Cragun and Marcia Haydee walking in, and when I see I have my program from last night with me, I just walk in, ask if they'd mind; they ask for a pen, write their names in JUST as the lights go down, and I'm feeling GREAT. Dennis buys his dippity-do for his older hair, and shoe laces for his $1 brown shoes that he painted black; then we're to Zum-Zum for dinner of two wursts and water, then out at 7 for me to get home to a message from Rolf. He comes over, we decide Eddie'll be OK, he MAY come with us tomorrow, and he leaves at 9:15 after excusing United Asbestos for going down, saying Carter will drive gold UP as the economy goes crazy. Then I call Pope for Scrabble, and he's delighted to come over, so I put things away, get out the table, and he's over at 9:45 for two games that he wins, liking a slow screw and popcorn that I make him, leaving at 12. I sit down to read after putting everything away, and Dennis calls at 12:30, finished rehearsing and drinking at Phoebe's, saying he'll be over, so I shower and shave and brush and pick my teeth, and am JUST sitting down when he rings downstairs at 1:05, I give him his first birthday wish, up to say he's hungry, so I put on pork chops at 1:45, he eats at 2:15 to 2:45, when we smoke and start cuddling into sex; he comes, and I set the alarm for 11 am at 4:05, when he pleads with me NOT to tell him what time it is. Cool enough, thank goodness, to sleep without the fan going; small showers lower humidity.
DIARY 11106
SATURDAY, JULY 31. Dog barks from 9:15 to 10 this morning, but I'm a bit calmer about it; maybe because I AM getting things DONE. Alarm rings at 11 and Dennis stirs not, so I'm up to put on coffee for him and he's up at 11:15 after a brief cuddle. He cuts himself outrageously with the new blade I put in the razor, we have scrambled eggs for breakfast, he showers and leaves at 12:20 after I hang up from Arnold JUST calling after I pull out the recording machine. Then finish reading "Chronopolis," a great new author for me, then wash dishes while listening to Jacques Brel, water the plants and kill white flies, somewhat fewer now, and then ALMOST make up the ENTERTAINMENT ABSORPTION list starting in 1974 when I decide I MUST catch up with these three pages, finishing at 3 pm, just about JULY-END! THEN I get to the ENTERTAINMENT ABSORPTION LIST, starting for a tiny bit from the datebooks until I remember I ALREADY typed them up, so I go to the datebook pages for 1974 and 1975 and do 17 pages, going rather nicely with B for book, C for concert, D for dance, E for event, P for plays, R for restaurants, and T for tricks; but most of them seem to be M for movies; forgot O for opera. Then decide, well, I'd better type up the DATEBOOK for the rest of the pages, so I set aside DIARY 11107-11123 and type the DATEBOOK pages 1976 2-5 on DIARY 11124-11127, and then from THOSE finish the entertainment list with DIARY 11128-11133, for a total of 23 pages in the entertainment list and 27 pages in all. I stop in here to check a duplicate "Star Trek" and to have something to eat, and then I update the restaurant list, the last in the book and the easiest to do, taking only one more page, and by then it's almost 11. Then I think I shower so that I'll be ready for whatever happens tonight, and Dennis calls at 11:30 with the STATEMENT that we're going dancing (bugalooing, as he puts it), and I suggest the 12 West, so we agree to meet at 12 at 12th Street for 12 West---and I actually get there about 12:12!!! I'd shaved and rolled three more joints to take along, and just missed a subway, dressing in Indian white shirt and scruffy blue jeans because the tan pants are still dirty, and he's VERY hyper but happy about a good performance (see DIARY 11235), and we have a passably good time at 12 West (see DIARY 11236) until 3:15, then to his place, buy Times and muffins; talk and sex and bed at 5:15 am!!
DIARY 11137
SUNDAY, AUGUST 1. Up about 11:15 for his parents' call, and then we have sex until about 1, have breakfast until about 2, and I'm getting a bit impatient about my use of time: I've finished the puzzle in the paper, read all that I want to read, and feel the urge to get home so that I can get back to my lists. He suggests that I just stay around and go to the play and Princess Pamela's as I am, but I look at the bedraggled mess of my shirt and the dirtiness of my jeans and say that I MUST get home, so I leave about 4:45, still having nothing to read since I read everything there, and get home to update the play list with the new ones, having decided that it IS much better to have it in alphabetical order, and it's worth the trouble to keep it that way so that I can find whatever program I'd want to check on quickly. But one of the pages is a mess, and I decide to type a new two-pages from it tomorrow. There just isn't that much time, however, and soon I'm showering and shaving again in preparation to leaving about 7:10 for the play, not really WANTING to go; I'd rather stay home and finish my lists; I'm concerned that I haven't been able to get Paul or Michael on the phone to check that they're going to be at the dinner; I'm worried about whether we're having wine WITH the $10 or not (I called Princess; she said that the $10 did NOT include tip; she couldn't say HOW we'd be seated, and I didn't have the courage to check if the drinks were included, but said that we were still scheduled for 14---not asking what would happen if we were less). Walk to the F train, which comes fairly quickly, so I'm to the street early, which makes me feels better, though I feel inadequately dressed in my blue pullover and white trousers, but I have nothing better to wear at all. Pleased to sit next to Eddie and his friend, but my heart sinks when I don't see ANYONE else there that I know, having no way of knowing whether Frank, George, Ellen, Peggy or Lyn are there. It's surprisingly cool in the evening; there are lots of non-play-watching people there, and the performance is a very interesting one (see DIARY 11138). But people DON'T show up, we're only 10 at the Little Kitchen, and though it's good (see DIARY 11145), I end up paying a bill for $160, leaving $20 tip, breaking me! Have a LONG talk with Dennis about money (see DIARY 11147), THEN we smoke, have sex, and get to bed at 4:45 am!
DIARY 11148
MONDAY, AUGUST 2. We wake about 11 and cuddle and come quickly, and get out of bed about 12:15, surprised to find it so late. He makes breakfast, or it might be hamburger and green beans for a hefty lunch, and he has a tryout for "Summer and Smoke", and I get home about 3:30 to start phoning Paul, Michael, Catherine, Guy, Stephen, and Dennis for $10, a realization of my mistake, $20, a realization of Dennis's point, the idea that I'd done what I should, and an "I love you," all respectively. By that time it's 5, and I quickly update the opera list, since there's not so much to do for that, and then get to the people list, again incorporating the listing for people AND for Tsi-Dun and Baths during the time since the start of 1974. The people list takes an extra diary page, but the other lists don't seem to deserve a page number, since they're in a book that I don't consider part of my writing. Despair of ever being able to communicate how GOOD it makes me feel to have these lists up to date. Even update my "permanent" people list to find that Dennis is ALREADY second in my life! So much into the list that it's only 6:45 when I realize I hadn't checked "Star Trek," but I had the title for it already. Then have some hash for dinner, and leave here about 9:15, leaving off showering and shaving until I get to Dennis's, and get there about 10:05 to find him gone, so I settle down in the entranceway to read until he gets back from the store at 10:15, and he's gotten the part in "Summer and Smoke," and he hadn't eaten yet, so he makes us both hamburgers to eat, so THEN I've had my third meal of the day. We talk about all kinds of things, and I've brought the last of my grass so that we can smoke, but we don't quite finish it, trying some of his stuff to see if it's any good, which it doesn't seem to be. He says again that the argument last night seems to have brought us closer together, and while he was cooking I read his journal, and he said about the same thing there. Though it isn't as warm as before, he still has the air conditioning on and the place still needs it. I shower and shave and eat, then say he needs a shave but not a shower, and we're on the bed necking, but he's not coming up, so I go down and he comes up, starts working on me, and we both come with great pleasure, getting to sleep about 2:30, rather early as our schedule goes, but I have to be at the dentist tomorrow!
DIARY 11149
TUESDAY, AUGUST 3. I'm awake but he isn't when the alarm goes at 10:30, and we cuddle but don't feel that we have enough time to express our good feelings for each other. Up for breakfast to groats, yogurt, honey, and figs, which is all very nice, and I brush my teeth with the Broxodent that I brought along to make sure I brushed well, thankful that I haven't been REALLY worried about my appointment, and when I am, I figure it'll be NEXT time that she gets to the point of hurting me. The subway is late when I get out at 11:40, so I'm there at 12:10, but she tells me to sit down and I read more before she calls me in and asks how my teeth are. I point to the upper right next-to-wisdom tooth as being cracked, but she says it's just rough, and whines down the inside to make it feel smooth, saying that the line on the outside looks OK, being where the filling joins the tooth. I FORGET to tell her about the diametrically-opposite lower left next-to-wisdom that seems cracked near the tooth, but she looks around and says she can't see anything wrong. Cleans and draws a lot of blood, but she doesn't seem as worried about the gums as she's been in the past, saying that I should massage. Out at 12:25 having been told to send her a check for $10, and I'm AGAIN delighted with the GOOD feeling that I have to be OVER with this, and KNOWING that I couldn't feel so GOOD unless I'd felt BAD before to lend contrast to it. Now for the blood test and other things, and I'll be CAUGHT UP! Home bubbling at 1, update the concerts and the events lists, but decide that I'm not going to get to filing the stuff, so I put the filing box and the programs BACK on the shelf, since they'd been out since Sunday, when I did nothing with them. Then get 4 pages of the book list typed when I decide I HAVE to get out for groceries, taking out dry cleaning and Chinese laundry, too, about $18 worth, and shave and shower and get calls from BOTH Bob and Dennis saying they'll be late, watch bits of "Assignment: Earth" on TV as I go around cleaning up the place, and then BobR comes in about 6:45, showers, and Dennis is about 7:10, showering while the ham (pork butt, actually) overcooks, then we have cantaloupe, pork, frozen peas, which delights Dennis, and leave watermelon for later as grass comes out, clothes come off, Bob comes up, Carmina Burana is on with the BeeGees, and we're into it (see DIARY 11150). HE comes twice and WE don't, which we talk about later (see DIARY 11151). Bed about 3:30.
DIARY 11152
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 4. Bob calls at 9:45, waking me up, and then I put the phone on the service. Dennis finally wakes about 11:30, and I edge myself into an extraordinary corner where I can't possibly come with "that" motion that reams hell out of my cockhead rim and than I DO, causing havoc with my nerve endings and seminal ducts and Dennis. He comes with glee, too, and we lie there dripping until about 12:30. He's off eggs recently, so I look and see the steaks that I bought yesterday, and he's up to them, even having some of the peas that I'd cooked last night and mixed with the canned ones to preserve them. I'm full enough to think I've had enough for the day, leaving the dishes to molder on the table when he leaves about 2:30. [TOMORROW: Then I continue the book list with six pages, even going to type two pages of the books that I MISSED and coming up with a list of books whose author I can't think of that I don't have anymore, and where SOME of the books got to I can't imagine, like my "Psychic Discoveries behind the Iron Curtain."] This takes a long time: I seem to have gotten into watering the plants about 7 pm, so I do that again after verifying the "Star Trek" duplicate, and I guess I even do the dishes from last night, though I suspect they lay around to smell a bit LONGER. Gnaw on the last of the steak left from this morning for dinner, and then watch "George M" with Joel Gray from 8 to 9, Dennis has first S&S reading, another chapter of "Jennie" from 9 to 10, where her husband dies and Winston is about 18 and looks 50, and then back to typing from 10 to 11:15, when I start putting things away and getting the apartment ready to watch "Strike Me Pink" with Eddie Cantor and Ethel Merman in one of the most outrageous production numbers in movie history "First you get me HIGH, then you get me LOW," with her trying to look glamorous and failing. The climax on a roller coaster and in a balloon has to be some of the most outrageous, too. Got hungry but ate only popcorn, too much of it---so much that most didn't even pop properly. Curse my eating habits, smoke some grass, and get into bed the first time alone this week, and I don't like it, but at least I'll be up early in the morning to continue my lovely work with the lists that are now dominating my life. To sleep about 2:30.
DIARY 11153
THURSDAY, AUGUST 5. Up about 9:30 and get right to typing, but have some breakfast to treat my stomach somewhat better than yesterday. Type the final 8 pages of the book list, and THIS is when I do what I described yesterday in error. Get sort of hungry for lunch, but don't have anything, preparing the hash for watching the start of "Star Trek" at 6, which I've seen. The list-work takes far longer than I'd thought, but it's getting done and I feel VERY good about it. Now that the book list is over, I have ONLY the ballet to catch up with, and then to put away the programs and I'm FINISHED. Already the pressures of the non-typing of the diary since Saturday is catching up with me, and I'm starting to look at the correspondence shelf as the NEXT thing I have to clear up. Shower and shave, but all I have to dress in for est is the dirty pair of jeans, so I put that on and get out EARLY at 6:30 to make sure I get there on time, but with the delays on the subway, I get to the room JUST in time. Not the best seminar in the world (see DIARY 11154), and I'm still not interested in the next one, though when it comes out it's "self-expression" I'm rather interested. Out at 10:30, having talked with BobR's friend David Delp during the break, and up to Dennis's to find that he's not home at 11. Someone from the building comes in but won't open the door for me, and I finish reading "Wampeters, Foma & Granfalloons" while I'm there, so I'm happy that I brought along Woolf's "Death of the Moth and Other Essays" to read. He doesn't get in until midnight, and I say pointedly that THIS isn't going to happen again, and he says he'll make a key for me, and he hopes I'm not TOO mad. I keep being bitchy during the evening, so I guess I AM mad, and I'm mad at myself for forgetting he said Peggy was making DINNER for him so HE'S not hungry and I AM, so he makes me an omelet, citing my making HIM steak and peas when he got in VERY late one night, so I make myself a kir and settle down to read his journal, eat the omelet, and we smoke the last of my stuff and settle into sex which doesn't work, because he says he has a JOB tomorrow. We tussle till about 2:30, then I say to move the alarm ahead, so he moved it to 6:30, which I didn't know, and we drop off to sleep, neither of us having come.
DIARY 11156
FRIDAY, AUGUST 6. Alarm rings at 6:30, but we're both shot to hell, moving together only by 7, and then feeling the loss of each other by 7:30, and reluctantly out of bed at 7:40, neither even HARD enough to think about coming. He's mail boy at Sunshine Biscuits at 46th and Park at 9, but he doesn't leave until 8:35, after we have toasted muffins for breakfast with jelly. I'm home with my shopping bag with his costume, and pick up my tan pants and winter coat from the cleaners. Home to put on music and sew up the pockets in the coat, sew the button on the brown shirt Don gave me, and cut off the blue jeans that Dennis gave me. Arnie calls to bring some stuff over, and I clean Michael's grass until he buzzes at 12, and he's up till 2, talking about BobG's depression, Norma's trip plans, the chance of his being Cruise Director on the Atlas, and articles he brings for me. Then I'm hungry and have cereal for lunch, reading the mail that he brought up when I threw him down the keys, and I sold him poppers for $8. Mrs. Johnson was in with roach-killer in the morning, just as I had the cut-offs on, and then I did the dishes in the afternoon to get rid of them. Leave music on and file the opera, concert, and play programs, leaving lots of junk-paper on the floor, and then it's 4:30 and Arnie recommended "Rope of Sand," which is fairly good with Claude Rains bossing Paul Henreid who hates Burt Lancaster who's followed by Peter Lorre in diamond-Africa. That goes to 6, and I watch most of "The Paradise Syndrome" while gnawing on the rest of the pork butt left over from Tuesday, with oranges, almost rotten, and I continue with the plays until 8:45, when Dennis comes in, wanting to nap, so I type 3 pages when he insists it won't bother him, but then stop to tear out more play things. 9:30 proves to me that I'd SEEN "Tempest" with John Barrymore as a Dragoon loving Camilla Horn as a princess in old Russia before the revolution on Channel 13 Silent Films before, but didn't record it (?). Wake Dennis at 10:30 and he's hungry, so I have hamburger and try Craig Claiborne's Parmesan Meatballs with Sap Sago cheese, which turns out heavy and drab, with peas and cantaloupe till 12, then we smoke Michael's stuff and have GREAT sex as I try to pass it off as good "sex grass." Then watch TV 1-2:30 with James Brown, Wolfman Jack, Elton John, Peter Frampton, Seals and Crofts, and J.D. Souther, mostly bores. Mrs. Watson has a PARTY upstairs 7:30-8:15 and 9:30-10, and it rains nicely.
DIARY 11157
SATURDAY, AUGUST 7. I wake about 9:30 and lay in the fan, he's up at 10:30 and we have FABULOUS sex until 12, but then he complains about a pain in his lower lungs of middle back when he takes a sharp breath or sits in a certain position. With the Philadelphia deaths of 25 people from some unknown "Legionnaires' disease," he's worried. I go to the store for a few things and end up with $14 worth of groceries, including the rolls that we have with bacon and cantaloupe (NOT last night) for brunch. Listen to music, he reads part of Sci Am, which fascinates him about burying beetles, and then he leaves at 1:30 to do things, and I put on more tapes and start the lengthy update of my dance listing. Music and music, tape after tape: "Born Free" and "Sergeant Pepper" and "Little Rascals" and Beegees, then stop to see that "Star Trek" goofed on a presentation of a program from about TWO months ago. Dennis calls about 4 to say he's really worried: aches all over, has a headache, doesn't feel hungry, what to do? I suggest calling his doctor, but she's out to town for the weekend and he waits, then calls emergency when he gets a thermometer, almost can't make the stairs, and has 102° fever. She says (nurse at St. Lukes') that it doesn't sound serious, relax, so he does. I broil pork chops and cook fresh corn while watching "At the Top" with Marian McPartland and Joe Venuta on jazz piano and violin from 10:30 to 11:30, then call Dennis and chat about it, and FINISH with the dance program filing at 1 am, too tired to go out for the Times. Think that his problems might be caused by smoking Michael's grass that I'd sprayed with insecticides, so I try a little bit before getting into bed at 1:25, having a VERY strange trip about how I MIGHT be dying, and how silly it would be, and how awful to do something to Dennis, whom I love, just because I'm smoking someone else's grass. Decide to put in the earplugs, since there are noises from upstairs at almost any time, and the cat's been jumping around more than usual, and Mrs. Johnson wants me to write a letter to the landlady to get her OUT, but then how am I to know who might move in up there who'll be WORSE, with hi-fi, parties, sex, late hours, talking, other pets? Sleep alone.
DIARY 11158
SUNDAY, AUGUST 8. Out of bed at 9:30, feeling somewhat achy myself, thinking that the grass MAY be to blame. Have cereal for breakfast after getting out for the Times about 10, and read it all quickly and work the puzzles less quickly while watching a rerun on Camera Three on Zen, then discovering at 12:30 that I'd left the phone off the hook from 10 so that Dennis wouldn't call, and I call him and he's feeling better, temperature down to 99°, and he doesn't think it's the grass, so we agree to try some more after we both feel better. Compare nothingnesses from the Times, then go back to the puzzle until 1:30 when I re-watch "A Boy Ten Feet Tall" about some 1-year-old whose mother is killed in Port Said, his Bedouin keeper gets his eyes blown out by an exploding rock in a fire, he escapes, gets picked up by an American woman in Luxor, escapes, hits Edward G. Robinson and diamonds, escapes, finally meets Aunt Jane in Durban to become a kid again, to 3:30. Finally finish the Times puzzles by about 4, call Pope about the Actualizations Preview on Wednesday that I'd been told about today, ate the last two meatballs with muffins for lunch, fixed the apartment up again, and then got down to some correspondence, sorting out Cheeselovers and ordering another, finding I haven't been returned check 340 from the bank, and sorting out other small bills until about 6, and then decide I MUST get down to catching up with the diary, hear a clicking and tapping on my window and a poor starving SQUIRREL is chewing on my sill paint, so I chase him down the fire escape to get him AWAY! Typing 21 glorious pages until now, an exhausted 9:25 pm. Getting very hungry, so in line with my thoughts of treating my stomach well, I don't wait until the TV program at 11:30 to eat, but put on pork chops and start typing the first page of the Dance Index over, counting and recounting until I'm sure it'll all fit on a page. Then eat while finishing off last week's New York Magazine, and back to get rid of the travel file, thinking rather hard thoughts about it (see DIARY 11159), and that clears off ANOTHER section of the bookcase, which is looking GREAT. Then watch a fabulous Video and Television Review with Crane Davis doing "The Arc of Civilization" as a takeoff on Bronowski, Cooke, and dozens of other commentators in a VERY funny thing. Laugh till 12, taking down the address to write a nice letter, then back to look through Unity and find what THEY offer, rather a lot, and cheaper for shelves than Alexander's. Then smoke at 1:25 and jerk off VERY nicely and easily to porno, no aftereffects from the grass that I can tell at all.
DIARY 11160
MONDAY, AUGUST 9. Wake about 8, doze, and get out of bed at 9. Make the bed and water the plants and kill white flies and clean up some stuff and get down to meditate "first thing" at 9:50, coming up with ideas that I can be like Werner if I want (see DIARY 11161), that WORDS are fascinating things (see DIARY 11162), and that a daily schedule could occupy my entire LIFE (see DIARY 11163). Then finish typing the diary index page and get involved in checking what the ballets are that I've seen MOST, and come up with the incredible list of star ballet people and companies on DIARY 11164-11165, which is really a FEAT. This takes me till just before 1, when I take cereal into the living room and watch "L'Eclisse," a good negative film (see DIARY 11166) that I watch until 3, getting my cock hot, using poppers and porno to come nicely at 3:15, the second time alone since Dennis has been sick. Then down for the mail when I hear that Hurricane Belle is coming up the coast this evening with winds up to 75 miles per hour and I figure I won't be going out, and Dennis calls to say that he tried out for "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" this morning and feels AWFUL now with a fever of 101°, so he won't be seeing me TONIGHT, either. I decide that I DO want to see "All the President's Men" today, since New York shows there are 5 films that I want to see in the next two weeks, and so I'd better get STARTED. Phone them and Pope, and Pope calls back to say that he'll meet me at the theater at 4:40, and then I get started on the diary, catching up on these three pages by 4:30, deciding to take along my rainsuit to see what the Promenade might be like in the blowing rain later this evening. "All the President's Men" is fabulous, more like a documentary, as Dennis said, than a movie with "stars." To Pope's to chat, then dash home in a break in the storm, have pork chop and fresh corn dinner, and the forecast speaks of winds of 50-60 mph now, and it rains heavily but doesn't blow much by the time I type the REST of the 8 pages I type today by 10:55 pm. Can't decide what to do next, but then I catch sight of the Travel Agent Magazines under the typewriter, so I look through all THOSE for the next 2+ hours, clipping out sheets that I want, coming to conclusions about that magazine (see DIARY 11167), and check the weather forecast at 1 to hear the storm's brunt is over by 12, and it's stopped blowing, and the loudspeaker that seemed to be on Hicks about 11:45 has stopped. Bed at 2 WITHOUT smoking, and sleep quickly.
DIARY 11168
TUESDAY, AUGUST 10. Wake, rather surprised, at 10, having slept eight hours WITHOUT smoking WITH earplugs. Up and make the bed and put the Travel Agent into bags before meditating at 10:50, later and later, and then look at some of the travel data again and again before having breakfast at 11:45, ridiculously late. Arnie calls and chats, I get out to pick up the Chinese laundry and take out my blue jeans, the last things that MUST be cleaned, and then shower and shave and get to type these two pages by 2:45, ready to leave for the movies, hoping to be early as I usually am. Am, and decide to get a slice of pizza when I'm at 2nd at 3:21 (the RR came RIGHT away), but find that it's changed to the Gosia Restaurant, operated by a Polish couple who can barely speak English: I have to tell him TWICE that I'm Polish before he understands. They're out of borscht, but their vegetable soup isn't all that good, with rye bread for 85¢, and he doesn't have change of a $5 so I give him two tokens and a dime, which makes him happy. The double feature of "Peter Ibbetson" and "Resurrection" turns out to be QUITE good (see DIARY 11169), and I'm out at 6:15 feeling VERY happy. Over to Second to find the B&H Luncheonette as Arnie described, order the mushroom barley soup with challah for 80¢, then had decided to get the fruit cup when the guy down the counter got the HUGE serving of rice pudding, so I got that: the soup was JUST super, challah tasty, but the rice pudding was so custardy on top that the rice grains tasted hard, but I was happy that he asked me if I wanted milk on top. Great meal for $1.51+25¢ tip. Out with time to kill and meet Richard on the corner, 50 lbs lighter and blond, who's giving a drag showcase at Triangle II on Sunday at 10, then down 7th to a bookshop that gives me Sturgeon's "Beyond" as the fourth book I look at, AND I find a John Collier novel I never HEARD of. DELIGHTFUL, and I actually SHED TEARS during dinner, I was so happy. Walk across to Ritha Devi at ATL at 8, and she has a GOOD program until 10:50 (see DIARY 11170), and Dennis's temperature is just under 100°, so I go up, buy muffins, he cooks chicken barley+mushroom barley+one can water + hamburger for dinner, and we finish his watermelon, and chat and talk, hugging and kissing before and after Listerine, and leave at 1:30 to find the subways CHANGED again, and get home at 2:30 and get to bed, AGAIN without smoking, at 2:50, tired, HOPING not to catch a cold!
DIARY 11172
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 11. Up at 10:35, meditate but STILL don't exercise, and type a page (see DIARY 11173) on the dream (sensual) that I have this morning. Overwater the plants, do the dishes, and scrub the broiler after having breakfast of cereal with rapidly souring milk, and I've recorded "Jacques Brel is Alive and Well and Living in Paris" while doing that. Then watch "The Queen of Spades," made in England in 1948 with an effective Edith Evans as the woman and a psychotic Anton Walbrook looking quite young (so I don't think I DID see it before) as the secret-stealer. Eddie calls during the program to ask for my reference for his job in a supermarket, and then Pope calls to ask about tonight, which he wants to go to. We talk from 2:35 to about 3, and then Arnie calls and says that they got back into town about 9:30 yesterday, the trees not damaging the house, but lots of the island still without power after Monday's hurricane. We talk until just before 4, me setting up the tape recorder for Werner Erhard's words on The Dinah Shore Show from 4 to 5. Then move all the indexing cards under the typewriter and put the boxes in the box-closet, get the mail and look at the few items, and by that time it's 6 and they're TOTALLY messing up the schedule for "Star Trek," showing a program JUST shown on 6/10. Then call Dennis at 6:30 and he's feeling better, temperature down to 99+°, even though he's not going to rehearsal tonight, but he's disturbed about Guy, who wants to cancel all relationships because things aren't going well for him (see DIARY 11174). [Oh, Don called yesterday just as I left, and I left word with him to call me back this morning; also chatting with Art about the possibilities of seeing "Summer and Smoke."] We talk for TWO HOURS---and there goes my phone bill! Make the last of the pork chops and corn for watching "Jennie" from 9 to 10 on TV, and it's not terribly interesting. Just as that's ending Rolf calls about Nepal, so I sort out things for him, and he comes over from about 10:30 to 11:45, wanting to get to India for $800 Air India roundtrip and trek in Nepal for a month. I put stuff away and figure to jerk off at 12, smoke, bidi, popper, come WITHOUT touching, after ONE SET of five and a six-wipe pre-drop, and then try to come AGAIN, but get all sweaty and listen to music, making lots of notes (see DIARY 11175) and even a poem (see DIARY 11177) that I think is good for New Yorker. Bed at 2:50, quite exhausted (Came AGAIN!!).
DIARY 11178
THURSDAY, AUGUST 12. Wake about 9:15, but doze off, reluctantly shutting off the alarm that I'd set for 10:45 at 10:45, and have two messages: one from Art, one from Pope. Phone Susan to delay lunch from 12 to 1, get Art's line busy then no answer, and Pope talks about an hour about Actualizations Preview last night, which impressed him greatly, as did Stewart's physical attractiveness. Just about to leave at 12:30 when TOM ALOISI calls for me to work for him, and meet Susan late at 1:10 in front of her bank. WE search for an Indian restaurant, I check phonebook to find Agra gone and Zapata's on 53rd, but we pass the Siamese Gardens and she has tasty shrimp and bean sprouts and rice and salad for $3.50 and I have GREAT egg rolls, Phad Thai which would have been better hot, but tasty noodle dish like what we kept getting in Burma, and beef with peppers, the worst of the lot, but not THAT bad. Sort of miso soup before, and I have no tea. Leave at 2:30 and back to her office to meet Ginny and chat, she giving $7/hour quote for freelance work, Susan saying $8. Leave about 3:30 after calling est to check where the seminar is, and Art's not at the shop. Down to the library to read part of Stapledon's "Death into Life" (see DIARY 11179), but the place closes at 5:45, which I hadn't expected, so I leave, reading a bit in the NYU plaza while Louis Johnson rehearses for tomorrow's dance performance, then THAT closes at 6 and I'm strolling slowly up to the Sheraton, looking at the "Survive" trailer that I'm sure is the best part: the airplane crash, and get there at 7 just as the doors open, having passed the time in various bookshops and finding nothing. Continue reading and the seminar is a TOTAL disaster (see DIARY 11180), and out with relief at 10:30 to walk up a TERRIBLE-for-cruising CPW to 86th, which has nothing on it, then up to 95th and Broadway to buy Tribuno Half-and-Half vermouth, and see someone slouching down the street who had just COME from Dennis's, a lonely guy he picked up on the subway, hunting for stud, finding a lonely 30-year-old who had nowhere to go. We talk, he makes tacos as I tantalize him about Zapata's, we eat, smoke my stuff until 2, when both have FABULOUS shooting sex until about 3:30, he coming when VERY hard, GREAT to have his health back.
DIARY 11181
FRIDAY, AUGUST 13. Phone rings from Richard at 9:30, waking both of us. He talks, then calls Sonny (Elmer) and makes arrangements to have us driven to Poughkeepsie and stay in Queens tonight. Then I demand a haircut, and Dennis calls Haydee and we can get there at 1. Then we're back to bed and Dennis gets into his cock again, getting hard merely sitting on me, which he even SAID he loves, in his journal, and he comes again, and I come again, and then we're up about 11:45 for me to take a shower, washing my hair for the haircut, and then have breakfast of scrambled eggs and yogurt by 12:50, when I'm out for the haircut, sitting in the chair from 1 to 1:45, when Dennis comes in to chat. Then I'm home to phone Art, who can't have the car for Wednesday, and then I phone Don, who doesn't want to talk because he's just been "totally robbed, all my jewelry, all my silver, totally robbed, so I can't talk now." I tell him we're going away for the weekend, leave a message with Arnie about having a car for the 18th, got to the bank, get 3 of my books from the library, and then start working on the journal, managing to get out 6 pages, but then I have to stop at 5:30 to shower and wash the hair clippings out of my hair, and shave and cook steak for dinner, putting the second one in the freezer in the hopes of having it when I come back, and then find that "Star Trek" has gotten VAGUELY back on my schedule with "The Empath" that I watch while eating, watering the plants heavily for the last time for the weekend, and getting things packed, typing this last section by 7, just before I leave. Get to the State Theater, JUST remembering that we have to CALL Elmer (Omer) "Sonny" Ville Maire and I didn't bring my phone number. Dennis is there early too, so we phone Mrs. Johnson, who isn't there, and then Rick, who gives me the number (and I FORGOT that I called him collect and DIDN'T pay him back), and THEN we sit down for the Alvin Ailey program, elaborate but not very satisfying (see DIARY 11182). Out at 11:05, subway to Times Square, phone Omer, who'd been sleeping, and subway to Main Street Flushing to find him waiting on the corner; drive to his place, have drinks and cheese and cracker snacks, talking about him and travel to Japan, and get to bed at 1:30, in a room so starkly clean that it reminds Dennis of a motel room. Few stabs of lightning outside to dramatize the fact that we're to sleep without sex.
DIARY 11183
SATURDAY, AUGUST 14. We'd agreed to leave at 11, which means we should be up at 10. I wake at 9:30 and loaf until Dennis wakes, then we wash and get out at 10:15 to a "breakfast" of coffee (instant) for Dennis, grapefruit juice, muffins for me, and Napoleons and éclairs! Dennis accepts an omelet but I'm not that hungry. We leave about 11:45, talking constantly about the strange Sonny all the way up (see DIARY 11184). Get in about 2, to find that Rick's got a garage sale going on for him and his neighbor, and so we have to stay around. There's nothing particularly for lunch, but Dennis has a drink and I do later, and we watch the sexy "chesty" across the way laying a brick walk for his parents with the help of a thinner blond kid. Children buzz around the place, playing frisbee, talking to Sonny, and making a nuisance. Dennis and I go for a walk in the woods when I spot some amanitas rescuing a wildly thrown frisbee, and there are lots of kinds, and even an orange chanterelle, and the woods are pleasant enough. I'd finished reading "The Death of the Moth and Other Essays" at about 12:15 this morning, just as we pulled into the Main Street station, so I start on "Defy the Foul Fiend" on the terrace while Rick showers, Sonny goes off to church at 6, and Dennis comes in and out reading Emily Dickinson in her original dash/capital letter punctuation style. Then I shower at 6:45 when Rick calls about Dennis's birthday cake, and we're down for another drink and find we DON'T have to wear ties, only jackets, and we leave at 7:40 to drive up the palatial driveway to the Culinary Institute of America, park, and get up at 7:55 to look at a slide presentation of the place, pick up a few brochures, and get into the Escoffier Restaurant at 8 for what I seem to be able to judge, other memories not forthcoming, as the most spectacular meal I've ever had in my life! Not that it was perfect in detail, but the whole effect was mind-bogglingly sumptuous, extravagant, amusing, and entertaining (see DIARY 11185). We're out at 11:45, reeling, necking in the back of the car, and Rick was showing off his movie screen so Sonny wanted to see the films, so we took off our pants and left on our shirts and watched "The Big Ones" from Odyssey films, with the comer in one of my brochures, and a Griffin of Jack Wrangler and a soft blond who comes a river at 1:30, when Dennis and I leave, smoke my grass, and have incredible sex until 3:15, he being harder than I've ever felt and we're BOTH shooting magnificently. Bed still full of food and experience.
DIARY 11187
SUNDAY, AUGUST 15. I wake at 9:30 with the sun pouring in and the sounds of the garage sale already going on downstairs, and then Dennis gets up at about 10, and we have another session that brings the come down on us, getting out to shower and get downstairs by 11:45, just in time to legally say "Good morning" to everyone sitting in the garage reading the New York Times. I read it all until about 1, when Rick makes some omelets for three of us while Sonny drinks milk for his ulcer, and with a piece of cake it's JUST too much to eat for me, and with the coffee I feel vaguely full and ill for the rest of the day. Finish the paper, work the puzzle by 3:15, when Omer said he was afraid we'd be too late for the bridge traffic. Wave goodbye to Rick, thanking him profusely, and then listen to Grieg on his Craig because I just don't feel like talking. But the music seems to excite some competitive animal in the driver, because he deliberately drives beside a woman who won't stay in her lane, leaning on his horn when she veers toward us, and then mercifully drives past her, contemptuous of her nervousness, proud of his ability to steer "straight down the center of the lane." The music stops and we talk on about how I got my job and how I get subsequent jobs, and Dennis naps in the back for awhile until we cross the non-trafficked Whitestone Bridge at 5:15 and he leaves us off at Hunter's Point when Dennis says he has to go home. He's not ready to say where he's spending the night tonight, so we get to Times Square and take separate subways, me getting home about 6:15 to bring up the mail, hear my five messages, call Helen and talk for about 20 minutes, Bob Perski about a possibly 4 months of EMPLOYMENT at Random House, and Arnie about the meal. Decide I DON'T feel like doing anything else, suggest Backgammon to Arnie, but he doesn't want to come over HERE. Call Pope about Scrabble, but he says he has to work, so I call Arnie and go over about 8:30 with clippings for him and get my "Swan Lake" back with magazines, books, and a ton of Esquire magazines. Watch part of a TV thing on Bismarck, have good chicken in pesto sauce with cheese and garlic, with fish cakes for appetizer and fruit and nectarines and cream for dessert, and I end up winning the first game at 16-0 in one sweep, the second almost as bad, and he wins the third. I leave at 1:30, surprised to find it so late, and get home to look at Esquires until 2:30, and bed without smoking.
DIARY 11188
MONDAY, AUGUST 16. Wake to damn barking dog from 7:40 to 8, then put on the fan and doze around until 10:30, wondering if something might be wrong: funny soft shit twice last night, don't feel like doing a THING today, so I'm up and go DIRECTLY to skimming the rest of the Esquires, clipping out all the different Relaxacisor ads and the Shape-Up ads and stories by Barth, Bradbury, Coover, and Vonnegut. This goes until 3:30, and NO one has called on the phone. Then go through the various piles of mail I'd had on the side, go down for the mail and finish looking through that, put the check under Johnson's door, throw things away after trimming the edges of the Esquire sheets and filing them in the right places, and by then it's 4:30. Then make the bed, put things away, clean the toilet bowl, squeeze pimples on my neck, unpack from the weekend, kill a few white flies, debate eating but decide I can wait until 6, then put on the steak at 5:45 and eat it while watching a "Star Trek" I'd not been very clear in the outline about (and went through another TV Guide, from Arnie, too), and then at 7 STILL feel in a funk. Try calling John Woods, whom I finally get and he comes over at 10 to say I have a GREAT haircut, and Dennis, with whom I leave a message. OH, forgot that I went into the bedroom about 4:30 and jerked off over pornography, since looking at all the sexy people, ads, and bodies and clothes in Esquire left me VERY horny---and I hadn't come since yesterday morning! Force myself to sit and type a few pages, but then get up and look through a couple more lists because I don't FEEL like typing, and then force myself BACK down and finally catch up on all the pages that I'd just left TITLED on Friday so that I could finish the JOURNAL pages (like DIARY 11171, 11174, 11175, 11176, 11179, and 11180) AND catch up to date with 7 MORE pages, which means I typed a total of 13 pages to here by 10:40, warm in the room when it's probably NICE outside. OH, I'd stopped to REVIEW Statistics for seeing Tom TOMORROW at 9! Gather all the things that I should take to work with me tomorrow, fix up the rest of the apartment, and smoke at 11:30 to get to sleep, and up at 12:30 to go to the john in muzziness, setting the alarm to 7:45 tomorrow.
DIARY 11189
TUESDAY, AUGUST 17. Wake at 7:15 and out of bed at 7:30 to shower and shave and finally crawl out when the dog barks to see that it's a darkish brown dachshund right next door, barking at the birds or nothing from an open door on the back porch, but when I pass that way to work, I see no name on the door anywhere. Have breakfast of cereal and the last of the milk before it goes sour, but late out to work at 8:50, getting to work on the dot of 9:30, precisely when Tom has to see about a typewriter ribbon for Ellen, who surprises me by saying that I WAS there since I'd known Dennis, and I check and it was the end of MARCH and the start of APRIL, so SOON, that I'd just worked there! Review the memo he'd written from my notes in October, 1974, and we went over a NEW memo and notes from him until 1:30, when we went out for me to have liver at Munk's Place for $4.75 with tip, too much in a cool room so that I had to wear my jacket, and then back at 2:30 to buy all my vitamins and shop for paper, but decide to wait for Apollo after work. Back to type up a two-page memo and write a third page of tallies at the end of it until 5:30, walking to the movies to find "Murder by Death" isn't playing, John Cernusca hasn't any pages YET and the deadline is October 27th, and Dennis is home, having been so disgusted with work yesterday that he quit, going to agents all day today, and even missed the meeting Sunday night because he lost the address. Out at 5:45 to find Apollo closes at 5:30, so I get no paper, and subway home at 6:15 to miss the title of the "Star Trek" that I'd seen, but I watch it again out of laziness. Then read the clippings from Arnie from New Yorker, watch a pretty awful "The Goodies" at 8, HARDLY Python-power, ONE sketch the whole time, NOT sexy guys at ALL, to 8:30, then continue reading, finish, put on a tape to wash dishes, put everything away AGAIN, and then finish this one page for the day at 10:30, feeling hornily happy that Dennis is coming over tonight. Shower, but the water goes out more and more slowly, and then sort out the travel stuff until 11:30 and Dennis is still not here. Then sort out the PERSONAL stuff until 12:30 and Dennis is STILL not here and I telephone, but just as I'm wondering what to do next, he comes in at 12:40. We talk, have huge slow screws, smoke, and have cuddly sex until 2:45 when we both go to sleep without coming.
DIARY 11192
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 18. I wake at 7:45 and lay counting the damn dog-barks up to 540+, and Dennis sleeps on and on until about 11, when I was really debating getting up without him. We cuddle, get hard, he asks for popper, and I come first, nicely, from only his handwork, which turns him on, and he comes in the sunlight, foreskin dripping with juices, and we're out of bed at 12:05, saying "Good afternoon" with pleased disgust. I set the bacon out to get warm, but know that the half-and-half is sour, so I go to the laundry, buy the Voice (lousy for 50¢), and go to the store all before 12:35, when I fry the last of the bacon and put it into VERY tasty bacon omelets. Fred Bassoff comes over for two poppers, I call Arnie about the cake, and we leave at 1:35 for the Quad, where we see a VERY dark, voice-manipulated (sound DIES between speeches, cutting off even the natural ascent and descent of the tones) print of "Street Scene," which nevertheless is quite accurate, with Beulah Bondi being the star as Mrs. Jones, and a very young Sylvia Sidney as Rose Maurrant, and then a VERY dated production of Maxwell Anderson's (poetic before, pretentious now) "Winterset" with an almost sexy Burgess Meredith. Out at 4:35 and Dennis goes to rehearsal at Waterside and I walk down to the Sci-Fi bookshop to pick up FOUR titles, and leave cards for the OTHER science-fiction books on my list, and I feel GREAT to get home at 6 to check that "Star Trek" is a duplicate, and then record the FIRST time that my shelf-to-read (at a NEW record of 88!) surpasses my list-to-get (at a NEW low of 80). Then update two pages of the vacation list (see DIARY 11190-11191) until 8:45, when I'm checking through my sick-times list (see DIARY 11194), and Dennis calls to say he's coming over for dinner, so I take the heating hash out of the oven and watch "Jennie" until he gets here at 9:30, when I fry steaks and we watch that and Alvin Ailey, and then I shower and shave before 11 (having reported my stopped-up tub to Mrs. Johnson; and it'll be fixed Friday at 6), we smoke, get into sex on the sofa to the Beatles, but feel tired, so we're setting the alarm for 8:50 and getting to bed at 1:50, pleased at the coolness of the evening.
DIARY 11201
THURSDAY, AUGUST 19. I wake before the alarm goes off, but not much before. Call Tom at 9:15 but he's not there. Absolutely cannot remember what we had for breakfast, except that it wasn't an omelet, wasn't bacon, and wasn't soft-boiled eggs, so what it WAS I can't tell! French toast! He leaves at 10, when Tom calls and says I should be in at 11, but I get things together to take to the office and don't get in until 11:30, but he's been tied up in a meeting anyway. I start to write a memo about what's wrong with the system, but he's back to discuss KEEPING track of the students through the survey. Work straight through from 11:30 to 6:30, and while he's out to lunch I start typing up a "process" memo that raises a lot of questions in my mind, so we go over them when he comes back, and he's delighted with my interest in the project and the progress we're making. I'm about to leave at 5:15 to price paper at Apollo when Frank Gill passes by and comes in to ask questions, and to be pessimistic about the getting of the data, and he's impressed with my idea of sending a memo to Dot saying THESE are the 55 centers, and will SHE guarantee a report from each of these every week, complete? This goes on until 6:30, past all hope of "Star Trek," and I get home at 7:15 to watch "Welcome Back, Kotter" at 8 and see Ben Travolta, or whoever it was Dennis wanted me to see, and then switch channels and waste time until "The Living Goddess of Myth" from 9 to 10, and then type two pages from the sickness list and diary and decide I MUST get my resume corrected, so I get down the IBM stuff before I remember I'm doing it for Random House, and then get all the information together, souping up lists of companies worked for, and type a new resume starting WITHOUT any military and WITHOUT references, and coming out almost perfectly at the bottom of the page. But it's after 11, but I still continue with the reference list, getting finished about 12:20, and no one's been complaining about the typing: in fact, the woman upstairs has been walking back and forth almost the entire time. It's gotten hotter, and I drink lots of water, smoke some before getting to bed at 12:45, setting the alarm for 7:45 because I'm DETERMINED to get there by 9 am tomorrow morning.