The Cambridge Chronicles

What to write about? Another few days with things just boiling over and out of me, but resistance to putting them down on paper. I fiddle with the typewriter to make the time go by. This lever here seems to make it a little harder to push down the keys. I move it the other way and things seem easier. Maybe its my imagination. Someone has also put white-out stuff on the piece of plastic around the type ball. You can't see part of what's being typed and part of what's been typed. Enough of this.

Long conversation with Edwin today. He is writing something called conversations with Richard. He will show me a copy tonight. He is also writing a letter to the editor of a magazine and a press release about his business. He's going to show me copies of them also. I have made some critical observations about his business. It isn't going as well as he wants. How do you see it, he asks me. This is going to make me into another lightning rod. I have said some very hard things about what he and his partner are doing. Edwin thinks they will see it as a personal attack. But he realizes its not so. He has been in a very receptive mood. Two days ago I told him about the labels and chair incident. How it was small-minded and vengeful. This led to more talk, and several days later a confession that some things had been festering inside him. He sees us as being closer and more connected than I do. But we have never really been able to create any sort of common enterprise. The times we've tried have failed. And the times I have tried to borrow money from him have caused him to demand things from others. Things are slowly disintegrating with him and his partner. They will probably part ways soon.

Stu has just called. What do you want with Simone, I ask. She's in New Haven, I tell him. He wants Ken's phone number. It never ceases to amaze me. They once lived together as 'the best of friends' - until Ken started sleeping with Simone. Now he has to call Simone to get his phone number. Simone tells me that the two of them have been meeting together recently and discussing how to get her to leave me. They both probably figure they have a better chance against each other than me.

An interesting talk with Edwin this morning about how he sees this whole thing with me and Simone and the 'others'. He sees the men who go after Simone as being very arrogant, self confident, possessed with the idea that they must be hot shit to be able to get Simone's sexual favor, that she will probably leave me in two weeks for them, and that they are cuckolding me. But men are also emotionally stupid. Most women would immediately conclude that they don't want to be the other woman. They immediately see that in most situations they are being used by the man. A man in this position, on the other hand, has no idea of what's coming, in the case with Simone. They see it as a typical situation where the woman is going elsewhere because she is not satisfied. Too late they learn that Simone is out for her own sexual satisfaction, that they can't, at least none of them so far, give her what she gets from me. Another story with women. Bonnie says to me yesterday, I'd jump into bed with you right now if it wasn't for Simone. I like the crowd of people you associate with. I don't want her to hate me and push me away, she says. She goes elsewhere for sex, which she can get at any nearby bar. But she tells me that not many people give her the kind of satisfaction and good feeling she has had here, with us, on at least three occasions. Last night, a small dinner party, with me, her, Edwin, Joe, Susan, and Nadine. Left her feeling very good. She now wants to work for me and spend more time here. She would have an affair with me only if I didn't tell Simone. She would do it if I kept it secret. She wants to do it but doesn't want to betray Simone. Ah yes, another loyal woman. I got so horny yesterday that I had to masturbate. You can stay and watch, I tell her, or go to another room. She went back and forth but stuck around and cuddled up with me when I came.

I have noticed a certain kind of fantasy connected with this situation. It always involves something disastrous happening to Simone. She gets eliminated from the scene and I am free again. An unconscious desire coming out indirectly through murderous fantasies. Sometimes its a fantasy where she has a car accident, or she will be attacked by men on the street, or they get into the house somehow, when she is here alone. Unconscious urges to solve my problems by getting rid of someone. An unconscious feeling that someone else is the cause of my problems. But this is just not so. Things have happened recently to the contrary. I have been quite distressed about Linda not seeing me anymore. I miss her. And a few times I have thought of calling her. Just remembering an interesting thing Bonnie told me. She sees herself as being more attractive than Simone. Simone sees herself as being more attractive than Linda. Linda sees herself as being more attractive than Simone. Linda and Simone will, no doubt, see themselves as being more attractive than Bonnie, but I haven't heard anything from them yet. Bonnie asks me something like, what do you see in a woman who is so badly dressed, never shaves her legs, and whose nails are always dirty? Gee, I must admit, its a mystery to me. Anyway, after Linda ended things, I went out and immediately made contact with two other women. Jean Pichey and I met several weeks ago at an art show. Last Tuesday we were in the post office at the same time. She is very young, 22 or so, and very attractive. She looks almost a little Asian. So we walked around the square and talked. I didn't want to go but was pressed for time. I missed the bank. It closed as we walked up to the door. She went to buy socks. What do you think of these, she asks. I am no person to ask about fashion, is my response, but they look nice to me. She was not able to pick brown socks from black ones, so I helped with that. Which way do you go from here, we ask each other. No way in particular we both respond. But I know time is pressing me. Perhaps her also, but neither of us want to go away.

You remind me so much of my brother, she tells me. Its making me a bit delirious at this point. I go home and jump in the sack right then. And it doesn't seem to be just my feeling. I am nervous about touching her, want to, but can't. It looks the same for her. She is uncertain about how close to get. She missed a bus the day of the art show. It was my writing about social art works and the show in May. It so interested her, or so she tells me. Would you like to see more, I innocently ask. Yes I would, she responds. So its already in the mail. I've written her a letter about my fantasy to make some little scenes/plays from some episodes in the notes. I have not heard from her. Nobody answers my calls to her number. She is living, romantically, with Leo, who is a very busy filmmaker and student. He's trying to make a career for himself. She emphasizes how he is away a lot and is often home alone, and lonely. Perhaps she wants company. I will be only happy to oblige her. Then I think, shit, the notes will be too much for her. She will be like all the others and too afraid to get involved.

A depressed feeling has just come over me. I have to lie down. Then it comes to me. I have just been thinking about calling Jean or Merrill, the other woman I had a date with this week. At the same time a very diffuse, but naysayer seems to jump up inside me. I doesn't say it directly, but its says that it won't work. If you call someone they won't be home, or they will reject you, so why try to do anything. But now I have jumped up and started typing again. It goes away a little. So go to the telephone and call someone, you idiot!

Cheyenne was home. Adele will not be home till late this evening. Who is your babysitter, I ask. My grandparents are here, she says. The conversation is not so strained or tense as last time. Adele was there beside her. This time she was not. The first time I spoke to Cheyenne was much easier. Again, Adele was not there. So we chat about her school, grades, and what she does in her spare time. I have something for you, I say. What is it, she asks. Then I throw her a kiss over the phone. Thank you, very much, she replies delightedly. Would you like more I ask. And you know what she would say to that. Say hello to your grandparents for me, as I close the conversation, and tell your mom I called. She can call me or I will call her in a day or two. Passing her car the other day I thought of buying some flowers and putting them in the door handle of her car. My face is still burning from the anticipation of talking with her. I can't believe she is really emotionally detached from me. Judy, who I call next, asks if she is with anyone else. My impression is no. She is still so set against me, so determined to defend herself from me, that this takes up an enormous amount of her energy. She tries to tell me that everything if over for her, that there is no feeling, but I hear something else in her voice. No need to be so hard if that were really true.

Jack and Dana have just returned from their camping and hiking trip. Simone, in a fit of anger the other day, told me that the tension between me and Jack was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Its just not so with me. Obviously he has a lot of tension. He's having a hard time with his whole life right now. He has decided not to move to Atlanta and is looking for a job around here. I did not hear this from him, but rather from Simone. Dana thinks he is the one who has convinced Jack to stay. Behind his back he has had lots to say about Jack. About the erratic way he runs. How he has a difficult time driving. He doesn't do anything smoothly. Lots of half-starts and half-stops. Lots of confusion. I criticized him the other day about leaving an iron on the stove. It wasn't really about the iron being on the stove. The cord was sticking inside one of the burners. I was anxious about the cord catching fire or burning. There is a constantly lit pilot light. He responded very defensively by saying it had only been there for 3 minutes. Another bolt of lightning. Another mark against me.

A few days ago I saw Carol and Gary walking down the street together. Carol says she was on her way to the library. Gary was on his way home. I asked them if they were having an affair. No, they say, I am just doing this and the other just doing that. It is only a coincidence that you saw us here together. But I noticed something about the situation. A sort of awkwardness. A slight sense of having been caught at something. Carol was over the other night when Simone and I were out. She wants to use the typewriter later today. She is spending a lot of time in Cambridge. I begin to get suspicious about how much of it had to do with her visiting Gary. They met at some social occasion here a couple of weeks ago.

Beth called a few days ago to tell Simone about her poison ivy pussy. It seems she and Phil were out running in the woods. They stopped to fuck. It was not a good spot. She seems to have it worse than Phil.

Edwin has had a short affair with Captain Kaplan. They went home together, to Edwin's, the night of the open house. Edwin did his duty and listened to her the whole evening. Nobody else seems to be able to put up with it.

A revelation for Simone the other night. She is always telling me about how she only has complete orgasms with other men. So I have told her how sex, when I get it, with Linda is better than with her. Linda often holds back. But it is either holding back or not. She goes all the way, whichever way she goes. She has had an orgasm every time we've fucked. Simone seldom has this with me. She is always uptight and tense about something. Only with her fucking machines can she really let go. I got that phrase from Edwin. Simone does not like to hear such things. She turned over and withdrew from me. Aren't I sexual enough with you, she asks. It has always been a bit odd with her. In the beginning, the first few times we slept together, sex was like some sort of pornographic movie of what sex should be like. Everything was dramatic. She made many and very loud noises. The sort one would use to dramatize pleasure. Her movements were very exaggerated. She was very forceful and aggressive and dramatic with kissing. Forcing her tongue into my mouth, biting me very hard, trying to stick her fingers up my ass. It was almost like a competition to see who could be more outrageous. But all the theater has gone away. It reminds me of Suzanne on FH. She was, at the beginning, very loud. One could hear her fucking through two doors. Or at least the sounds she made while fucking. I was the first to comment to her about this. She told me so. Nobody had ever spoken to her about it before. She stopped doing it after that. With Simone it is another thing now. She wants me to be equally responsible for birth control. But my own experience, with Adele, the courts, society, and what I see, tell me that we are not equally responsible, and that others will not see it that way when its to their advantage. Its a nice utopian, idealistic, fantasy. But, like most of the utopian, idealistic, things that people want to bring about in the world, it has a very shaky foundation in reality. People want to love and be loved by everybody. But when threatened their deeper feelings will come out. Their real feelings will come out. I only have to realize what happens inside me when I don't get what I want. Rage, hatred, resentment, depression, vile fantasies of doing in people, compulsive preoccupation with reliving a situation that went wrong for me, always trying to recreate it in my favor.

Steve Levine called the other day to tell us about his new weather therapy. Something about getting in touch with the seasons and the rain, clouds, sunshine, snow, sleet, and wind inside each of us. Crazy. People try contact with everything but contact with people.

My students continue to give me very positive feedback about my teaching. One has said I am the best teacher of some 10 courses he has taken. Another told me about friends who were taking a similar course elsewhere. That they jumped right into programming and have already lost part of the class. Everyone seems to have come back. This same person told me that I should teach a word processing course. Some others are interested in my seminar. One of the younger guys has a lot of insight into himself and his social situation. He is only 25 and feels that he's not doing enough. That something is really missing from his life. His girlfriend is ok, but he sees a time down the road when she will be like his mother, or other women, who will be wondering where her fur coat or new car is. Prodding him on to make more money. Getting caught up in making money and not enjoying himself. He has access to money, but it doesn't help his existential plight. We spent some time talking about it. I asked if he writes about it as he has a very good way of expressing the situation. No, it makes him want to jump out a window. I have told him about my writing and will give him a copy at the next class.

More about Stu. Simone called me to borrow money. His mother died recently and left him a bundle. He has decided to use this as a lever against her. She has to stop seeing me and wait a year for him. Or some outrageous set of demands. He reminds me of trying to borrow money from Edwin. He wants compensation all out of proportion to what he is doing for someone. Further, he does it in a situation where the person who needs it is desperate. How would I tell him my view of the situation he is in with his girlfriend? How he overreacted to Simone and tried to do something vengeful. How he jumped into a living situation where he hardly knew the person. What could I tell him so he would learn these things from this experience? I knew all this when he called earlier. Even the idea to tell him what I noticed was there. But it was not something I expected. That he would call. There is often some confusion in my mind about exactly how to proceed, but its enough time to cause the opportunity to be lost. He just wanted that one thing and had little interest in talking. It was obvious. He was probably in some distress at having to speak with me. Always, I think, next time. Next time I will speak up and say exactly what is on my mind. How seldom it works out this way.

We have just answered a call from Nadine and Linda. Me, Jack, and Dana. She needed someone to help move two refrigerators. One up and one down. We talked a bit about the day. I tell her about my talk with Cheyenne. At that moment she asks if I want to talk with anyone else. Who do you have in mind, I query. Linda wants to speak to you she says. So how are you doing, and how are you doing. The first round. Dana thinks it may have been a ploy to open up communications with Linda. Nadine greeted me as Mr. Reliable. Dana asked them about their promise to take us to Rosie's. They have agreed and we will see them in an hour or so.