My Life in 1991 (part 4)

More excerpts from the diary I kept in my freshman year of college.



There's a part of me that's kind of hoping people wait until I'm dead to read these.


Well, today was sort of a roommate-oriented day because for a change I wasn't repulsed by them. (11/4/91)

That's nice.

Jesse definitely has emotional problems. You know what he does is meet girls, charm them, and than once their charmed, he treats them like shit.

He is paranoid and extremely negative. 

But I'm going to force myself to try to be his friend. (11/6/91)

In those days, was I still believing there are people out there who DON'T have emotional problems?

Magic Johnson has AIDS. Scott died on Beverly Hills 90120. And Sheryl and Edie are threatening to break up with their boyfriends. Just now I was sitting about how time is flying by. Then I began thinking, and I was like, "Oh my God! I'm at college! I'm not at home! I want my Mommy." (11/7/91).

I guess it finally hit me...after being there for over two months. 

"Sitting" should be "thinking", of course. I'm torn about whether I should correct these things.  Am I being authentic, or am I being anal?  

The thing is, I feel if I correct things, then I'm not being honest. It makes me uneasy.

Nick was so adorable tonight. I can not imagine how I lived without these people in a way. I feel as if they are etched into my heart and I never want to give them up. 

For the rest of the semesters of college, I was barely friends with this particular group.

I will say, though, that they ARE etched into my heart. I do think of this group of friends periodically. And that's something, seeing that I've actually completely forgotten other people from my past.

I had breakfast today with Jesse. Nick was also there, but this time I paid more attention to Jesse. He told me he likes the American accent better because the British accent is too uptight. (11/10/91).

It was Jesse that helped me realize Americans even had an accent. Before Jesse, I had that egocentric-American idea that everyone else has the accent.  

Nick had eaten breakfast with me this morning. Then later in the meal he asked me if he had seen me yet today. I had to really jog his memory. Then last week, I saw him twice and each time he completely ignored me and then on Friday he seemed excited to see me and was like "I haven't seen you all week!" (11/10/91)

You know, in the last twenty years or so, I have felt cursed.  I have felt there is something about me that attracts conversational-narcissists. Or I bring out the conversational-narcissist side of people who are usually decent conversationalists. 

From what I've been reading in my diaries, It seems I used to have another curse. I think in high school and college, I had lots of very moody people in my life...and people who almost seem to have a dissociative disorder.  I see a lot of stuff with people being very nice to me one day and then ignoring me or acting cold the next day.  

There is so many classes I want to take. I could just stay here forever and take each class, every single one. I'd major in everything. Okay, I guess that would take too long. There is just so many things I want to know, so many books I want to read. (11/11/91)

It would have probably been a good idea if some of those classes were grammar classes.

BUT...

Thank you!! This is the Dina I'd like to see. And I know she existed. I remember her. That part of her just didn't make it to the diary very much.

I had been very excited to go to college.  One of the reasons I chose the one I did was that they let/forced you to take many classes outside your major.  I wanted to be able to take as many classes as possible.  

I DID study a lot...in-between all the socializing.

I am screwed compared to the rest of the world. I feel so bad that I wish Nick and Jessie would break up with their girlfriends. I'm a real bitch...and proud of it. At least I'm a virgin. Otherwise I might be a called a slut. Some people, especially girls, might be viewing me as a slut. If only they knew. I'd laugh and spit in their faces. (11/12/91)

That is awful in so many ways...starting with the slut-shaming. Then there's the self-centeredness of believing my problem of being attracted to two guys with girlfriends is more screwed than the rest of the world.  

Maybe I'll give myself the benefit of the doubt, though. Maybe I was saying that my own self was more screwed than the rest of the world—that I was a worst person than everyone else. That's pretty stupid too. My problems weren't even close to being the worst in the world. But wishing boys would break up with their girlfriends is also not the most evil thing in the world.

My dad is in the hospital with a minor heart problem, which is no surprise in our family. (11/16/91) I think this is when my parents finally decided to quit smoking.

I'm all messed up with Jesse. Today he brought up his girlfriend and I was so confused. I must remember just to stay his friend and all that shit. (11/21/91).

I think it's that whole thing of allowing yourself to be delusional and in denial; then someone says something to shatter it all.

Nick lay in my lap as I combed my fingers through his hair. He was drunk, but when he sobered up he invited me to his apartment. Nothing happened, but I was glad to be invited. (11/23/91).

That's sweet, but also wicked...since he had the girlfriend.

Jesse and I got in a fight yesterday and Trent was being a jerk. Then today Jessie was so sweet and apologetic. I didn't know guys knew how to take the blame. (12/3/91).

It seems kind of depressing that I had to be surprised by that kind of behavior.  

Edie and Sheryl just went into Sheryl's room and locked me out. I was about to say that's my doing, because I'm never around. But as I recall they did that in the way beginning, way before I had other friends.  

All my roommates remind me of the Flamingoes back at John Muir. If you stand on your foot for a period of time, they'll let you in. 

Here it is if you get engaged and fucked, you'll be in. Fucking is okay with me, though. I hate the word. But engagement is out of the question. I really can't stand those 2.

I feel like I've done something wrong somewhere, but I haven't.

So, fuck them.  When they break up or divorce their husband, I will laugh-not in their face but behind their back. I hate them.  (12/4/91)

MAYBE Sheryl and Edie could sense that I was the kind of girl who was desperate for a boyfriend, and that I was willing to wish that guys would break up with their already-girlfriends.  

The comment about the Flamingoes surprised me. It was the name of one of the novels I wrote. I totally forgot about that one, and I don't remember when or where I wrote it. But besides that...I forgot it was based on something that had actually happened.

A horrible feeling came over to me tonight while I was trying to fall asleep with a stuffed up nose. 

For moments I felt so lonely as if I have been isolated from everyone, including myself. A feeling came over my body which I could not explain. I couldn't even say if it were good or bad. I feel so out of control and alone. (12/9/91).

This is one of those things that makes me think I DO have epilepsy, and that I've had it all my life. 

Jesse was here tonight with Prenov, and he lay on my bed. Then later tonight we were alone for a short time and he made his exit. I told him to hug me and he almost seemed to be rocking me. I wouldn't mind having a best friend like him. (12/14/91)

Reading that makes me feel kind of regretful and sad that, when I saw Jesse in NYC, we talked for about five minutes; then went our separate ways.  

Maybe it would have been nice to keep at least ONE college friend for a lifetime.  

It depresses me a bit that I've lost touch with everyone.  

On the other hand, I have pretty much given up on friendship period. And I like it, because it gives me so much free time.  I'm not sure I'd be able to handle keeping up with friends from my past.

Also, I make it sound as if I had a choice in NYC. Maybe I did wish to have more than five minutes with Jesse, and he gave me the idea that he'd never want that to happen.  

I think, for the most part, the meeting was awkward.  

I'm okay. Melissa and I are getting along pretty well. We had a wrapping paper sword fight.  (12/16/91).  

It was the beginning of winter break.

Sometimes I hate Jesse. He thinks he knows me, but he doesn't. He is so blind. He doesn't even see that I may be in love with him. I called him today and he said all these awful things like I'm uncomfortable talking to people and I figit at Eric's.  Jesse knows I am weird, though, but he thinks all girls except me are superficial. I wonder what his girlfriend is like. (12/19/91)

I was going to say that I'm sure Jesse knew I had feelings for him. But I am thinking that, because I'm reading my diary, and my diary is extremely obvious about it.  Outside my diary, I might have been better at hiding the whole thing.  

I hate Jesse. I despise him. He has no right to assume things! I'm only attracted to him because he's British. At least I think so. He is such a jerk! I guess his girlfriend must be good if she puts up with him. (12/20/91).

The British thing is, unfortunately, probably true.  I don't know what you call it, but in my life I have often been guilty of wanting people in my life because they are of a certain ethnic group, have a certain accent, have a certain disease, etc.  Is it like reverse bigotry?  I don't know.  

Jesse is horrible!  He said that he told his old girlfriend when she asked what he was thinking about, I wonder what my next girlfriend is doing." (12/23/91)

I remember that. It's one of the things about college that has stuck with me all these years.

It was an awful thing to say, but in a way, I like it. 

I'm siting here trying to think of ways I can justify my liking of it.

Maybe I should say I like it as a writer. It would be a great thing for a character to say.

Or maybe I like it for its cruel honesty. 

Cruel honesty is awful, but sometimes it seems better than fake-charm, gaslighting, etc.

Would it have been better if Jesse had lied to his old girlfriend? Oh, I was thinking about you and how beautiful you are. 

I feel invisible. I do not feel like I'm part of the Roberts clan. Now I belong to the other family. They are nice to me. When I talk to those stupid Roberts people, they don't even hear me and then I get quiet and these shitheads get all upset because I stop talking. 

Dawn and Melissa are so close and I am never included in their jokes or their laughter—unless they are laughing at me. (12/25/91)

The other family thing.  I've been avoiding mentioning it, but it's in my diary a lot. Now it's getting to the point where I feel it's too hard to ignore it.

It's not too crazy, so I'm not sure why I've been trying to pretend it's not there.

I just had this thing where I pretended my college friends were a family. I saw some people in the group as the parents, others as my siblings, and others as cousins.  

Why did I do this?

Well, I was a bit nuts.

But besides that.

I think one reason was that it was  a way to feel like I had a family at college—maybe a mixture of missing my own family and at the same time feeling rejected by them. 

I also think it was way for me to accept having these male-friends who were just friends.  I think if I saw them as siblings or cousins, I'd be more accepting of the fact that they already had girlfriends.

Judging from my memories and what I see in these diaries, I don't think my plan worked too well.  

The other thing is, I don't think the friendships I had with these people is as wonderful as my diary makes it sound.  My diary makes it sound like I was completely loved and included in the group. I don't remember feeling that way.  I remember feeling tolerated for the most part, and then once in awhile...loved.

From what I remember....

A) I usually had to seek these people out. Yes, they were often welcoming when I came to visit, but they rarely sought me out. They rarely came to visit me.

B) I felt they all knew me on a very surface level. And it probably went both ways. They knew my first name and what I looked like. They might have known my college major and some of the classes I was taking. But I don't think they knew about my family, that I was a writer, that I had been so involved with CF, etc. And in my diary, I think I became the person they saw—a college student whose only care is socializing.

But eventually...through the next few years of college, I think I became more...myself.  


Click HERE for the index to my diary/journal posts.

How would our world change if we knew for sure there was life after death, and it was easy for our dearly-departed to talk to us via the Internet?   


The Dead are Online  a novel by Dina Roberts