Revisiting Old Diaries Today II

I'm going through the second diary. It's mainly "the nanny diary". A lot of negative stuff but some fair and positive things about the families too.

On Sept. 13, 1993 I only wrote:
I just ran into a mammoth spiderweb on the way to Maritza's. I'm glad it was too dark for anyone to see me jump. Now it's 10:30 and I've settled down to watch "I Love Lucy."
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I'm still figuring out what to excerpt.
Sept. 9, 1993:
...Nevertheless, today I made some progress with Lisa. When we're alone and I'm witty she relaxes. I have a sort of dry humor that can lean torwards (can't read what I wrote). This morning Christie was listing off the things she wanted for breakfast in a demanding tone. When she was finished I asked her, "Is that with or without a side salad?" She just looked at me and Lisa laughed...

I'm still thinking about the negative things or insights I had into that lifestyle. Whether...I don't know. I guess I'll write some of it out.

Going back, to August 19, 1993:
Being a nanny has opened me up to a new world and different way of thinking. Not that I always agree...People are materialistic on the East Coast. Some things are plain ridiculous. For instance, all of the socialite mothers here wear their jewelry to the beach...Here, people need escapism. They retreat from the real world and create the fairytale without realizing they alienate themselves from life. I'm speaking of the rich mainly. The husbands and wives lead separate lives--he may be out golfing with friends while he tries to do something to make her feel better like charity work. The housekeeper and nanny are expected to take care of the menial tasks that define boredom but build character. The wife is supposed to the be the devoted partner in business with her husband, stay in shape and look good, have children to carry on the family name, and to decorate the mansion's her husband buys with the money he inherited.
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August 20, 1993:
My last entry sounds almost vindictive and harsh. It is a stark look at reality here but then again, I have not yet exaggerated the good as much as I have the bad. I really like Lisa Thebault. I have criticized her before but can't accept it from anyone else. I really do care about her. Tonight I french-braided her hair for an evening at the yaht (*I cannot spell yaht*...lol. figures!) club and saved her an appointment at the hairdressers...But the party was a humbling experience. I was ordered here and there, "bring forks, napkins!--ladies! We could use a garbage sack to throw the giftwrap in..." It was a nightmare and I was Cinderella. Lisa seemed concerned with her "help's" impression on her friends and her friends and her friends wanted to be waited on hand and foot. "I'm a nanny, not a maid, slave, or servant!" echoed again and again in my mind. Maritza and I have ESP on these things. Once we were here alone in the kitchen I assumed a snobby air and clapped my hands together twice--"Ladies!" I mimicked with pursed lips, "Get the napkins, get the forks! pronto!" And all of these women are two feet away from the silverware...But then I think to myself, "they think they are superior yet I can see the insecurity on their faces at the beach and can understand the superficiality of their games. I also feel sorry for these women who have been disallusioned by their husbands and/or society...for a soap opera script. They must mingle, must wine and dine, do lunch, volunterr work, be politically correct and impecable from head to toe. And then I wonder if they now I have an intelligent mind and a good family background. Thank you so much Jesus for freedom of thought and expression in ink! It keeps me sane...
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August 23, 1993:
...As we were talking I brought up a book I had read early this summer called "Eric". It was about a boy who has leukemia, and I mentioned that things would be different in the world if people knew they had only one year to live.
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September 8, 1993:
I could barely fit into my biggest jeans this afternoon. This is Crime and Punishment. I give into my sweet tooth and the cellulite gathers on my thighs. It's so strange to have hips! I've always had such a boyish figure...Every night I tell myself I will not lhave cook8ies or ice-cream until after dinner...Maritza has been warning me too, "Your butt, your legs, and your arms." And none of it goes to my bust.
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Sept. 9, 1993:
...I asked Lisa if she had changed (personality, etc) since she was 23 and she looked out the window thinking, most likely about what she should and shouldn't tell me and she said "yes" in a faraway voice. Then she almost tried to justify her response by saying, "I guess anyone would have to change for this lifestyle." I wonder how she likes it.
--I do more griping and analyzing and then write "a parting thought--these families pay the people who take care of their children, less than minimum wage." I forgot something. Today Lisa told jme to put in a chicken for dinner. She left a fully illustrated guide with map-like instructions on how to operate this oven. She even drew this (diagram of oven knob and temps). I mean, idiot instructions. And I took the chicken OUT of the pan and just put it in the oven (I've never made chicken before). She came home and the house was hazy with smoked chicken. And just yesterday I didn't know how to work the washing machine, while only 2 days back I couldn't figure out the vacuum cleaner. I tried to joke around, "Well, I guess now you have another story to add to your collection." Lisa laughed but had this expression on he3r face that clearly read, "I have hired an airhead." So I'm going down with Lucita-the-mean-one, Myrtle-the-turtle, Sylvia, and the others. A long line of nannies.
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Sept. 12, 1993:
Today I went to a Presbytarian church in Bedminster. It was small, antique, and the parking lots were occupied by BMWs, Mercedes, and minivans. It's a liberal church--the pastor seemed to be more interested in delivering a well-executed speech than a meaningful sermon.
...I'm in a romantic drought. Tonight I was driving to the mall, feeling very lonely. I prayed and I did something unusual--I prayed for my husband-to-be (whenever/whomever he is). I hope that he is doing well. But I would like to meet someone that I can talk to and have fun with (whether it's "to-be" or "not-to-be"). A nice, intelligent, christian guy. The mall was closed and I went to the video store. The people must have thought I had no life--I checked out 3 movies. Tonight I watched "An Affair to Remember". It was so sad, so good, and romantic.
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Sept 14, 1993:
I finished "Lucy" and am continuing "Malcolm X." It's a good story so far. It's about a black man who rose up from the dregs of society, spent time in jail, reeducated himself and became a new influential man through "spiritual enlightenment"...
...Lisa is gone yeah! This morning I told her that I had booked my ticket for Christmas. She was angry that I hadn't consulted her first about the dates. I was fair but I know she would have made it a big issue if I had left it up to her. I'm leaving the 19th and coming back the 2nd of January. She was ticked that I wasn't going to be back for New Years. "I told you I needed you for New Years," she said in a terse voice. "No," I said calmly, "I didn't know that. I thought I had holidays off and you never told me I had to work." "You have New Years DAY off, but not the evening," she said. "I didn't know," I said and we left it at that.
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Sept. 15, 1993
The humidity is almost unbearable tonight. I tried going to a church service but was caught in a thunderstorm and turned back...I'm now listening to the radio. I liked the song that was playing, "Goodnight Angel," and now they're playing a favorite, "No One Ever Is To Blame."...I miss the beach. I am longing to go down to the shore and breathe in the air, wade in the water, etc. The river here looks like the river in Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory...My weight loss plans have been ineffective. I am my mother's body double. I think that the kids and I need to spend more time outside, away from the refrigerator! I had planned on doing leg-lifts to "The Fiddler On The Roof" tonight but I guess it depends on how I feel after I'm through writing. Next weekend I'm going to just relax and take my pen and paper outside to express myself. My singing has been bottled in a magic lamp. Maritza and the kids don't want to hear me all the time and I can't seriously practice with Lisa around in the evenings. So as one talent is buried, and my running is restricted, writing has become my only outlet. Oh, I love to run! I feel so good and my cheeks are rosy for hours but my knee has been troubling me again. I think of so many things to write and then I forget them. Tomorrow though, I will have to take a look at MYSELF through Lisa's eyes. Also interesting. Today the newest edition of "Vanity Fair" came and the feature article was on Julia Roberts. I heard a from Audrey, a nanny of a woman who is friends with the feature editor of the magazine. I guess that dining the interview Julia went through a pack of cigarettes. She's a chain-smoker and does drugs I guess. Interesting and idle gossip.
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Sept. 16, 1993:
I went for a long walk last night. I took my walkman and as soon as the houselights had vanished, I began singing. It was black and I felt like I had all the privacy in the world. I was dancing a little bit in the middle of the road...
...I have become a judge of clothes. I can tell whether a woman has money or not by her dress and jewelry. A rich woman and a poor woman could be wearing clothing and jewelry that look alike, but a wealthy woman's clothes are always impecable, her gold jewelry always gleams brighter...Most of the women with money (or who have husbands with money) follow a code of dress. There is not much originality--the women are competitive but want to fit into the cliche. I will never forget the night the Thebault's had friends over from Washington! they were very nice, although I've forgotten their names, and they gave Maritza and I a lot to gossip about. Lisa and Brian seemed bent on impressing these guests. The man was divorced with a 9 yr. old daughter and had remarried a younger woman with blond hair and blue eyes. She seemed insecure of herself. As Maritza said, "She hangs on him and everytime you turn around, she's watching you." They had no children and absolutely no tolerance for noise. This couple and the Thebaults played tennis together and announced when they came back hot and sweaty that they were going out to dinner. Ann, yes, that was her name, came down in a white tailored pantsuit and pink lipstick. Lisa was wearing her black evening gown and asked me to french braid her hair. Ann's husband was wearing khaki pants and a hot pink polo shirt. Now kahaki's and polo's are uniform for men here, but when Brian went upstairs to change and cmae down wearing the EXACT same thing, Maritza and I looked at eachother. He even had a matching blue blazer like Bill's (that was his name!). The icing on the cake floated down the stairs five minutes later. Lisa had changed from her cocktail dress to a white tailored pantsuit! I was beginning to wonder if the restaurant they were dining at had some sort of dress code. The minue they were out the door, Maritza slid into the kitchen. "Did you see that?!" she hissed, "Unbelievable!"
"I know! They were wearing the same thing! Why did Lisa change?" Maritza leaned over the counter. "I think Brian told her to change because he saw what Ann was wearing."
"But why?! That is strange!"
"Can you believe it?" Maritza shook her head, "These people are unbelievable!" Maritza and I pondered the circumstances for over a half hour. We came to the conclusion that Brian supported Bill in some way in the White House, or that Bill did favors for Brian and the Thebaults felt that they had to play a part. It was a political scenario. "I don't think Lisa even likes them that much. She always makes breakfast for guests, and she just bought donuts and left themm on the counter this morning," said Maritza. "Oh I know, and yet they seem to want to make such an impression!"...The next morning it rained. Bill plopped himself in front of the televison to watch Western movies. Maritza and I were surprised that these guests could make themselves so at home. It seemed that they ran the itinerary. LIsa was dying to get out of the house and suggested the adults and kids take a trip to Bedminster to see the house. Ann looked frightened. "With the kids?!" she smiled, "Maybe I'll stay here."
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Sept. 24, 1993:
This morning...Philip refused to wear the clothes his mother picked out for him and said to me, "No! I'm NOT going to wear this...sorrreeeee!" Then he ran out of the room, saying he hated me and "I never DID like you!" He does this with his parents too. He hits Lisa and she ignores him...He is always talking about what he would do to "bad guys" if they came to his house. His tricks include stabbing, shooting, throwing things, etc. He sometimes seems obsessed with violence, no thanks to Home Alone 2, Batman, and Dick Tracy. And yet yesterday he and I went on a walk to look for deer and I asked him if he'd ever been camping before. Philip shuffled his feet along the path and swung his walking stick, "No," he said in an innocent, soft, voice, "Because Daddy's always away for business and mommy is always doing things for Lauren and Christy." And one hour beforehand, I found out that he had never carved a pumpkin with his parents before. The things I take for granted. I wish there was some way that I could talk to Brian and Lisa without sounding condescending. I know that they love their children but parenting seems to be a mystery. The (kids) eat junk food all day, are treated like royalty, and they're rarely disciplined. The result: out of control children who honestly believe the world revolves around them. All they need is what money CAN'T buy--time spent together.
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Oct. 4, 1993:

(many pages of the unravelling of the relationship is left out)...when the last thing I would want from them is their money. Let's go for something more valuable--how about respect?
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