In an effort to start blogging on a regular basis, I decided that on TBTs I would either blog about my past or post an actual entry from my diaries!  Reading my diaries, which I have kept sporadically over the years, is a shame and a hoot.  Absolutely Emo-Terri with a side of body-shame.  Holy crap.  If I could only tell her what I know now.  Needless to say, the names have been abbreviated to protect the innocent (who are we kidding, nobody in my life was innocent, including me.  Stupid yes, innocent no.).  Any current comments/explanations will be in italics and bracketed.

So back to November 26, 1979 …

[To set the stage, I had moved to LA with my friend Stephe (see below) in September 1978; I was working for an attorney and Stephe and I were sharing an apartment in the Hollywood Towers – yes THAT Hollywood Towers.]

Here is what I looked like back then (disgusting pig that I thought I was):

I don’t know what is wrong with me today.  I am just in a shitty mood.  John just really irked me last night and yet when I think back, I can’t pick out anything particularly awful that he did.  I think it’s time I just kind of cool it in regards to Mr. D.  I am becoming a crazy lady and there is no reason for it.  Looks like I won’t be going home in Feb. because John kind of wants me to run the club [John ran an itsy bitsy teeny weeny comedy club in LA, centrally located between gay baths and a gay bar, and our next door neighbor was THE (original) Vampira – no shit, in which we performed sketch comedy] while he’s gone back to Ohio. [Oh, what a floor mat!] Not my idea of a good time. [Then don’t do it!] That was probably the beginnings of my nasty spell. [Ya think?] I’m so homesick.  Also, I can’t cope with this hot/cold attitude of John’s.  I really don’t know what the fuck is going on with him and maybe I don’t want to find out. [I found out.] For one whole day, we thought we had a piano player. [And switch gears totally, as is my wont] He was perfection; so, of course, he changed his mind.  Oh well.  Linda and Marty [not sure if this is my sister and her friend or some mystery people] think John is wonderful and I should keep him (little do they know what all comes with this Package Deal).  Mark A. and Jimmy (the tap dancing laundry bag [sadly, I do not remember why he was the tap dancing laundry bag]) came to the show Saturday.  They loved it and Jimmy seemed to think I was Miss Ultra Talented which I found very gratifying.  So at least that lifted me above the clouds for awhile.  Stephe [Stephe is pronounced “Steve” I spelled his name this way because his name was Stephen.  Since Steven is Steve, it only made sense to me that Stephen is Stephe.  See it makes perfect sense.] spent the whole weekend (except Saturday) at Carl’s.  I wouldn’t mind at all if he didn’t do it with such a chip on his shoulder.  He goes around like he’s daring me to say something.  At least I didn’t get dragged to church last night.  Instead, I helped John with his Xmas decos – until Midnight.  What I need to do is go home take a hot bath, wash my hair and have a good cry.  It’s been building up so long it hurts and I’d best let it out before I bust. [Get ready for it] Besides all that I feel fat. [Oh the horror] Real fat. [Tragedy] Fatter than usual, which is not how I need to feel right this moment of moments. [I refer you to the photo above. Such a sad and foolish child.] I know one thing that keeps rolling around in my head, and it’s stupid, but it isn’t.  I’m jealous of Sheila!  It’s true.  I can’t help thinking John would like to go to bed with her.  John is so physique conscious that I know I must do nothing for him and Sheila is so damnably pretty. [Trust me, neither of us did anything for him.] But she’s such an asshole [she really was] and it is so unfair and I want to get away for awhile.  I really don’t want to be to John what Susan is to Steve. [Beard] I am not into being used like that. [That is an utter lie!] I don’t mind being used if there is something in it for me, but I have long ago learned there is very little to be gained from that kind of a relationship. [I only wish I had learned it by then.] I talked to Val on Sunday.  She and Judy are driving each other crazy.  Saundra is enjoying being Ms. Married Woman in Chicago. [All Michigan friends I performed with.] I got some Xmas shopping done. [Non sequitur alert]

[Just to be clear, every man mentioned above is/was gay (some have passed on hence the past tense; they did not stop being gay, they stopped being alive).  I don’t want to say I was a Fag Hag – nasty term – how about a Gay’s Gal, Mary’s BFF, Friend of a Friend of Judy’s?  You get the picture.  I have a very long history of falling for gay men.  My mother once posited that her divorce had somehow “affected” me causing this propensity.  Hey, what’s not to like?  These gentlemen are funny, often good looking, love to dance (with everybody, not just the “pretty” girls), dress well (and will help you dress well too if you just ask), and always make a good impression when you are out and about.  You’re just in trouble if you want to fuck.  It took me a very long time to learn that it is okay to put “I want to fuck” on my list of what I was looking for in a relationship.]

Welcome to my life circa 1979.  Can you stand it?