Monday Memoir Feb 2, 1968
Jan 27, 1968,( thoughts, not a journal entry)
For the moment, I was rhapsodizing about my new ‘boyfriend’ And sliding dangerously into an emotional attachment that I **knew** was unwise, even hazardous. In most ways I was just playing make believe and yes, settling for not even second best but much less than that. The seductive illusion of being appreciated, enjoyed, belonging… It did not take long to pop that balloon and the next year or so I avoided even starting to go there. And thankful that was true…
I called Bud “Beau” for the southern feeling. He was at the edge of a dying relationship and it was not going well; I never knew any details.I wrote "He is so sweet and such a monster all rolled into one. Russt leather heair and blue eyes, beautiful teeth; conceited and, shy, rough and gentle a carefree little boy and a a burdeneed hurt man. All rolled into one." Yes I was going way too fast and should have or maybe even did know better. It was so sudden and I had really not nearly put myself back together and found firm ground again. Then few days passed when I was back full time studenting and waiting to see where I’d go next. My little unexpected dream was on the edge of destruction and it happened quickly.--like crash.
Jan 29, 1968 Monday
Short and sweet, huh?
When I made my mistake was Saturday morning going up and waking him when he was
hung over. I should not have done that, should I? Because he was not terribly
nice and what’s more I fell in the snow and ice bruising my knee and tearing my
tights and then screwed up my accounting test because I was all upset. Saturday
was not my day.
So Sunday, in spite of
the snow, I hitched a ride with Old Louie, all the way down to Phoenix. It was
lovely down there. I walked in the sunshine and then waited at the depot and
saw my ‘ero come in on the 5-Star. He did not see me until I passed him on my
way from the restroom. I am still not sure if he was pleased or ticked. It was
a long ride back, just the two of us from Prescott on. We talked but after
Cottonwood it seemed to go awry and just fizzled so I walked away from the
depot alone. This evening he called to inform me that he was leaving for Los
Angeles--on the road now with the guy with the red car, I think. So that is
over. Well, it was fun in a crazy way.
I think I did fair in my DAPR test. I’m getting ones in English and Psych anyway. That makes me feel better. Then Nancy C (the phonograph girl) and I went to see “The Ambushers” with Dean Martin. It was really cool. And I just had this perfectly wicked idea--how would I do as a 5 Star hostess? I think I will inquire directly.
A little ‘splaining. In the manner, of the airlines and their attendants, Continental started a class of upscale busses with a few more amenities which they called the 5 Star Busses. . One of the specials was an on-board hostess. I am not sure how long that went on but I did consider that as a temporary career. I lost interest soon because they h d stricter rules than the air lines. No hanky panky, very strict height, weight and grooming rules and of course no “fraternization” with passengers or drivers, and quartered in almost convent conditions. Oh oh, not for this gal.
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