Tuesday, April 24, 2018

My Life in 1994 (Part 8)

The summer continues....

Melissa and I played Trivial Pursuit. There was a question about stalagnites. Melissa told me she has never been in a cave before. 

It made me want to go in a cave. (7/16/94)

I wonder if she's been in a cave by now.

It's been SO long since I've been in a cave. I'm not sure I've gone into one since early childhood.

Sandra's daughter had her baby today. What a day for a Jewish boy to be born. His name is Dillon. Jimmy W's mom died. (7/17/97)

I have no idea what I meant by a Jewish boy being born that day.  ????

Jimmy's mom died of a sudden heart attack.  She was probably only in her 40's or 50's.  I think it's one of the things that has made me scared of dying young of a heart attack, and it might be also be part of the reason I'm passionate about the neglect of women's heart disease.  

The crickets are all over. They fall from the ceiling fans. 

I was thinking maybe it was good if we all segregated because if I was with only Jews I wouldn't have to hear about anti-semitism. But if that happened, the groups would split. Jews would divide. Sephardic vs. Ashkenazi. Orthodox vs. Reform, etc. (7/19/94)

Sometimes it seems like it would be easier if we were all more similar. But I'm betting even identical twins fight over their differences.

Sometimes I can feel Jimmy's pain. I feel his longing for his mother. He forgets for awhile and then the stress gets to him. He needs someone to hold and comfort him. He goes to find his mother and she is not there.

Melissa baked cookies for him.

This is a nightmare.

I wonder. This touches us all. It is weird how one person's death can effect so many people. 


Well...that makes me feel quite anxious and depressed.

Lately I worry much less about dying, because I feel Jack is older now and it won't be so bad if he loses me.  When he was younger and more emotionally needy, the thought of dying absolutely terrified me.

But now...my past self is making me feel anxious again. Thanks a lot.

Jimmy's mother died on a depressing day in Jewish history. What a day to die. (7/19/94)

I'm looking at this Jewish history website, trying to figure out what horrible thing happened on July 17.

It seems like, through the centuries, a LOT, of bad things happened to Jews on July 17. But I'm not sure if anything particular stands out. Nor am I sure that July 17 in Jewish history is any worse than July 5, August 7, January 3, etc.  

I was just thinking of sad movie scenes. I think what makes me cry is voiceover. Not that I can think of any offhand. (7/20/94)

Funny. Now I was able to think of one immediately! It's the ending of Men Don't Leave. I watched that movie a lot during my college days, so I'm not sure why it didn't come to my mind.

Dawn was in a bad mood today. She got mad at me because I said something about the father dying in the Lion King. 

I thought that was common knowledge. Oh well. (7/23/94)

I'm surprised that my sister cared that much about a Disney movie. I can't remember her ever being into that kind of thing. Though she does like Disney World and Disney cruises. 

I called housing and I am with 3 people I don't know. Then I called Jennifer who is trying to get us in the same room. The woman on the phone from housing was pretty snobbish. (7/25/94)

This was the summer I did the racist thing of asking NOT to have three black roommates. I didn't mind having one or two black roommates. But I didn't want it to be three against one.

After reading my diaries, I'm a little more understanding towards myself. I realize now it was less of a white vs. black thing and more of a white-Jewish vs. black Christian thing. And this was the age of Schindler's List and Farrakhan. I think there was stronger than usual black vs. Jewish animosity. 

I also have a little more annoyance towards the school because of the Jennifer thing. I hadn't remembered that I had found a friend for a roommate. I thought schools were more fair about letting friends room with each other...especially in the upperclassman years.

UNLESS...Jennifer was pretending to be want to be my roommate and then, behind my back, calling housing and begging them not to put us together.  Please keep her away from me!

All these years, I thought the university was trying to teach me a lesson and make me less racist— ignore my racist request and put me with three black roommates. But maybe the housing staff were racist themselves and were trying to punish three innocent black women by forcing them to room with me.  

I got a letter from an agent who said he'd read my screenplay, but it may take him 7 months. That will be in February. Shit! (7/25/94)

I wonder if writers are still forced to wait that long to hear back from agents, publishers, etc.

I sleep with the light on a lot lately. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it is because of the crickets. (7/26/97)

Summer of the Crickets. It could be the title of a novel. 

Grandma called and told me to start bowling with her and stop reading and writing. (7/28/94)

I'm pretty sure that was her dementia talking.

I don't really remember my grandma being a bowling kind of person. But maybe she was...back in her younger days. 

I spoke to Jennifer K on the phone. She said she wants to marry a cowboy. (7/29/94)

Unfortunately, she ended up marrying a man who is very controlling. Though I'm not sure if she sees him that way. Does she love him too much to notice or mind. Or does she notice, and is she stuck?  

I was awakened by the crickets last night. I had to go sleep in Dawn's room. (7/29/94)

We no longer have a cricket problem in this house. Now, instead, I'm awakened by Annie banging on the kitchen door, Tim playing video games, and my bladder.

I was so weird when I was young. I was so creepy. I think I became normal in 12th grade. I still feel dorky sometimes, though. (7/30/94)

This makes me feel guilty because I'm STILL so negative about myself as a tween and teen. You'd think by now, I'd be better able to love and appreciate my young self.

I do not feel very happy today. I felt worthless and a shame to my family. I feel like a freak. I think watching myself in those old movies upset me. I was so weird, and I'm afraid I'm still weird. I don't mind a little weirdness, but I'd also like to be a little normal. My parents were nice to me, though.

Right now I feel like being like everyone else, like a Brady Bunch girl. Just an average Joe. 

I know that is not my usual desire. I know my weirdness is what will me me most likely to success (if I succeed) Maybe I should read biographies of film people, and if they say they are weird as a teenager, I shall feel better. (8/1/94)

I'm going to work on loving my past self (ages around 12-15).

Learning more about female autism will probably help.  It's not just about giving myself a self-diagnosed label to excuse my "creepiness", but it's also reading about people who have gone through similar things. It makes me feel less alone.  

I have not been very happy lately. I think I am depressed about returning to school. I just feel sad and worried about stuff. I don't want to be bothered by people at school. I hate the feeling of sitting in the cafeteria. I'm embarrassed to eat in front of people. I hate when I'm in the middle of a good book and people come to bother me. I think I have a driving phobia and agoraphobia. 

I got in a fight with my mom and that makes me feel bad because she has so much stress.

I am prettier than I used to be. I don't know why. I'm always afraid I will turn into what I used to be. (8/2/94)

That last bit reminds me of people who used to be very overweight as kids and now are thin. I wonder how they feel about their past self. Are they like me—adding more hate to a child who already felt hated?  Or are they more forgiving?

I was just thinking that the thing that changed my past self into someone who creeps me out to someone I respect, and actually like, is my writing.  In reading these old diaries, I started liking my past self when she was around 10th grade. It was when I started admitting that the ouija board disaster had hurt me.  

Now I'm thinking MAYBE I don't have to struggle and force myself to love my early-teen self. Maybe I just need to let go. Well, I should love her, but I don't necessarily have to like her. I can just be happy that she eventually turned into me.  I know I'm far from perfect, but I DO like and love who I am now.  When I read my old blog entries, I'm usually very pleased...minus all the proofreading mistakes.  

I like Woody Allen even though he is a child molester. (8/3/94)

Holy fuck! What an awful thing to say. 

I didn't know I knew all that back then.

It's one thing to be in denial, so you can continue to enjoy your favorite films.  I mean that's bad. Yes. But it's not as bad as accepting the evil and continuing to like the person anyway.

Plus I didn't even say I liked his FILMS despite him being a child molester. That would be slightly more understanding. I said I liked HIM.

I wonder what's worse—not being believed when it comes to abuse; Or being believed but people continuing to love and support your abuser anyway.  

Well, personally I think the former is worse.  I think there's something incredibly horrible about not being believed. The other one is bad too, though.   

At the library I looked for stuff about Steven Spielberg and Woody Allen. I think they both are awesome. (8/4/94)

My soul is a mess...from reading that.

A part of me hopes I didn't believe in the molestation. But then that means I'm adding to the horribleness of not-believing-women.

Is it maybe okay if it's a woman we don't personally know?

Well, it's not great, but is it less horrible?

It doesn't feel good to imagine strangers reading my blog and not believing me. It's worse, though, when my own parents, husband, sisters, friends, etc. act like they don't believe me.  

Maybe the most reasonable thing to say in the situation is, I love Woody Allen movies. I wish it wasn't true that he molested his daughter.

My dad drank tonight and got into another one of his annoying moods. His eyelids flutter as he brags about himself.

I am idolizing Woody Allen now. I'd like to write like he does. (8/5/94)

I should be walking down the streets of Kings Landing with a nun shouting out at me.

I want to marry Woody Allen. (8/5/94)

I'm quite sure I didn't want to marry a child-molester, so I'm going to assume this was about denial and not-believing.  

I have so often felt not-believed about my own problems. Now I'm thinking I deserve that feeling. The universe has been rightfully punishing me.  

Karma is a bitch, but she does help us grow.

My dad looked in the attic for critters. He thinks I am lying about the crickets. I don't know what's up there, but it is loud. (8/6/94)

See. There you go? That feeling of not being believed.

And there were DEFINITELY crickets in the house.

As for other creatures. This house has often had rats and squirrels in the attic. Last year, the rats were actually in our kitchen. Not too long ago, my mom revealed to me that there once had been a dead rat in the master bedroom. And I've been reminded by my diaries that we found a baby bird in the exercise room.

So, why was my dad skeptical about critters/crickets in the house? I have no FUCKING idea.  

The Orkin man came today to help us deal with our crickets. I wonder if the sounds of crickets will ever be peaceful to us anymore. (8/9/94) 

I would go back to loving the sounds of crickets. And I'd even have a pet cricket one day.

Okay...I've been thinking a lot about the Woody Allen thing.

I am pretty sure that when I heard, amidst the MeToo events, that Dylan Farrow had been molested, that this was new information for me. I don't think I ever knew about it.

In the last twenty or something years, I think the only thing I knew about Woody Allen's personal life is that he ended up marrying his ex-wife's stepdaughter.  I believe that's what I was referring to when I blurted out that he's a child molester.

Woody Allen's relationship with Soon Yi Previn has never bothered me that much. I saw it as something that was strange, creepy, and a bit tragic (for Mia Farrow). But I didn't see it as being evil. I didn't see it as disgusting. It wouldn't be enough to make me lose love for Woody Allen's films.  It was time and other distractions that did that. My interest simply faded. I would hope that, if the interest had not yet faded, I would have stopped supporting Woody Allen's work after hearing that he had molested a very young child.  

I'm not sure why I used the term child molestation. Was Soon Yi younger than the legal age when the relationship began?  Or maybe I meant it in the sense that it was kind of HIS child—stepchild.  I think child can mean a young person, but I also think it can mean offspring (whether by biology, marriage, etc)

Googled-Soon Yi Previn was 21 when the relationship technically began. Maybe I had heard rumors otherwise.

My other idea is that I had simply heard it mentioned that Woody Allen was a child molester—referring to the incident with Dylan Farrow. But I took the route of willful ignorance. I avoided learning more, because I didn't want to stop liking Woody Allen and his movies.