Revisiting Old Diaries Today III

Oct. 11, l993:
...My new family was found through Joan. They are very down-to-earth and friendly. This was the same description I got from the Thebaults, but it means different things to different people.
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Oct. 18, 1993:
K.K. is driven to convert me to liberalism. The minute he realized I was a no-drink, no-sex kind of person was the minute he viewed me as a case. For the last week I've been hearing, "Just have fun! You won't always be young. You're not going to want to do some of these things later in life! When I was young, I was WILD! M.J. straightened me out. You just wait--in five years you'll be a different person. When M.J. was your age she wouldn't have been comfortable going topless at St. Barts, but now she's uncomfortable if she's NOT topless!" Well! Good for you and M.J. but I DON'T plan on smoking marijuana or drinking or having pre-marital sex, and I DO intend to wear a bathing suit! But do I tell him this? No. It is better to live quietly around K. K and M are great even though our views of life are at different ends of the spectrum (they are liberal Jews and I am conservative Christian). They have been especially considerate and have made me feel at home. I can actually talk to them--they talk! ...They are real people and it is comfortable to be around them, the one exception being when they talk about poop. They call D. a pantload and when her food has been digested K likes to watch her face and invites everyone to watch D. "making a doodie". The other day he was describing what was in her diaper. "Mmm. D! Carrots!" And I'm ready to throw up. Changing diapers doesn't bother me--I have been prepared since my pooper-scooper days--but I don't like to discuss it, esp. at the dinner table. I joined a health club with a great step-aerobics program, two days ago...Every muscle in my body ached and still does. "Oh! a step aerobics III class! t can't be too bad! (even though I've taken neither I nor II)!" ...I am on the road to recovery. My eating habits have also improved, due largely to the fact that there is 1/16th the amount of junk here...It's 11:16 a.m. and D has been sleeping for an hour and a half. I cleaned the kitchen floor, sang to some CDs, made muffins, and talked to Maritza. Maritza says things are going okay. The Thebault's haven't found a new nanny yet and the kids ask about me from time to time...This weekend I may visit, I'm going that way anyway to see the Steeplechase with Kelly. My birthday is the 22nd. I will be 19. When I go home I will be almost 20. I love life. There is so much I want to experience whether I'm young middle-aged, or old....I really want to talk to Nana about my heritage and family background. I could learn a lot from lher. She is around 90 though so I'd better hurry. Nana was an English teacher in lthe early 1900s. I want to know more about Grandpappy, who was the world's second best fiddler, the Garrett Tobacco company that was lost to gambling, about the women...I almost forgot! I went into NYC! I went with Rochelle, a nanny I met here. We had both never been to NY before and we took the bus and subway. The subway wasn't bad...One woman was playing a guitar and singing. She had a wonderful deep earthy voice that echoed "Wind Beneath My Wings." She was very good but unsightly. When Rochelle and I stepped onto the subway, we sat lost in thought. Then a door slammed and three black men in hats stood at the end of a ? anyway, they all hummed a note and introduced themselves: "And now! Ladies and Gentlemen, we introduce ourselves! This is Harry, Larry, and Michael Jackson." Then they all broke into song, snapping their fingers and dancing a bit while most everyone ignored them after they realized they were not going to be accosted. It was the strangest thing because one minute it was all quiet, and the next, a capella in 3-part. I gave them some money and Rochelle looked at me, shaking her head. "You're such a sucker," I shrugged my shoulders, "Why?"

When we got to the street there wasn't much to see. It looked like a piece of Portland. There are many more nationalities though. We walked to the dance club and stood in line for 10 minutes. It was greeat once we got in but someone spilled beer in my hair. lIt wasn't a scuzzy place, it was nice, on the Upper East End of Manhatten.

A woman with scraggly hair and dirty clothes helped her boyfriend onto the subway. His leg was in a cast and her face was red and scarred and scabbed from acne. It waw a hideous sight. She was about 5'6" and 98 lbs. She herself couldn't walk straight, there was something wrong with her legs. She crawled onto her boyfriend's lap and hid her face. Then on the train we ran into some boys from Fort Worth who lhad spent the night at a bar. There were 6 guys and all but one was drunk. I ended up sitting by them and found out that one of them had a firend in Somolia that had been killed that morning.

...I made a tuna salad that is DELICIOUS. I want to be a great wife when I'm married. That is my #1 priority following God. Family is so important. If I have a career, that would be great too. I'm beginning to realize that I will not be meeting a great man over here. I don't think that there will be any romantic possibilities at all, but that's just as well. I really want to go to Russia with the Continentals. ..I'm going to plan on it for the summer following my first year in college. This is what I envison so far--going back to Oregon, registering for college, travel in the summer, another year at community college and then transfer to a private college. And writing a book...
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Nov. 6, 1993:
...Today I was thinking to myself, "There will never be anyone for me." I really can't imagine myself with someone I'm happy with. It's not to say that there aren't great guys, I've met some, but there is no one FOR ME. Most people date or have boyfriends and girlfriends and just wander WHEN they will fall in love and with WHOM.. I wonder if there will ever be anyone, period. I know that I'm picky but I don't think unreasonably so. Kelly told the Ks, "I'm picky too, but he doesn't have to play the piano!" K and M looked at me and I answered, "Well, it doesn't have to be piano, it could be another musical instrument." M was laughing in disbelief: "I can't believe". And, I explained, it's not a requirement, but it would add points. As long as there is a musical appreciation and he can stand to hear me sing all the time, that's okay. What it comes down to is, I don't have a guy pegged so that his hobbies and interests have to match my expectations, it's more of a personality/chemistry thing...
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Nov. 17, 1993:
...I'm doing well and love my family. In only a month I will be going homeand I'm very excited for that. I want to take Levi out while I'm there. I just saw "Remains of the Day" for the 2nd time with Kelly and Rochelle. It is a deeply-felt, well acted, beautiful movie. I'm trying to convince the Ks to see it. I let them read a poem I have been working on. they thought it was "interesting." I think that was at best. Either I am just an imaginative wanna-be or I was wrong to ask a computer programmer and phrarmacist...

...I have yet to meet a decent guy..."Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou?"
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Nov. 28, 1993:
...After I gave D a kiss goodnight (she gave me a big smile), K got out the guitar and we all sat around singing Beatles songs. It is wonderful to be with a family that appreciates music. I love them.
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Dec. 12, 1993:
...I hope that there will be some snow--I'm dying to cross-country ski. And I will do a lot of relaxation. I will go for walks down Baker Rd., through that walnut grove, and around the town. My tickets have arrived in the mail...I saw "Les Mis" with K and some other nannies on the 7th. It was a beautiful play. The most touching moment for me was when Jean ValJean sang "Bring Him Home." You could hear a pin drop, it was the most beautiful voice I've ever heard. All during the play though, I wanted to sing along, or jump out of my seat, run onto stage, and begin acting myself.
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Dec. 15, 1993:

Yet another sleepless night. I feel like a child again, restless on Christmas Eve. All I'm thinking of is going home. On Saturday I will pack my things, run last minute errands, and bake an apple pie for the Ks. Will miss D. Tonight she was so cuddly and refused to go to K, and squirmed away from M a couple times to be with me. It was a nice feeling.

I have some humor to record. Yesterday K called and asked me, "How is D doing?" I had thought he said, "How big was Ds doodlie," and although it seemed strange he would ask, I answered, "Ummmm...pretty big I think, it wasn't too messy though." That evening K and I were discussing the Watergate scandal and I remembered a movie I had watched for A.P. extra credit called "All The President's Men." K said he hadn't heard of it and I said, "It was a good movie--with Robert Redford, about everything that happened at Waterloo." K and M couldn't stop laughing and it took me a minute to discover my error. Come to think of it, that blunder wa almost as bad as the humbling experience I had in Mr. Yuilles class my Senior year. I hadn't read the textbook chapters that were assigned two days before and Mr. Yuille picked that day to have a pop quiz, or, rather, a surprise essay. I had absolutely no clue what was going on and with a blank piece of paper before me, I began to panic. I looked sideways for help and tried to make out Erica Wiltbanks handwriting. The heading was all I could read and it looked like "The Mormon Doctrine." Oh good! I thought to myself, I know a lot about Mormonism. And I wrote a page on Mormonism, about its history, their persecution, how they moved to Utah, and about polygamy. I turned my paper in with confidence only to discover, horrified, that the other students had summarized the "Monroe Doctrine"--some kind of government policy. I was so embarressed.

And here's the last bit of humor. K had told me, once, of a time that M had been rip-roaring drunk, came home, threw up on him, and he threw her into a cold shower. Last night Rochelle was over and we were all talking at the table and eating lemon cake. K began telling me how one of his friends was too horny for words and M said, "K, I don't think he would like to have a reputation preceding him..." (or something to that effect) and I said, "Oh yeah! Remember what you told me about M?" Uh oh. All eyes are on K and he is staring me down. "What?!" Everybody said at once. "Well, it's not a big deal," I said, "but I don't know if M would want people to know about it." M's eyes were wide. "K?" she sing-songed. then K told me to whisper it to him first. I said, "The shower" and he said, "Baby shower or wet shower." "Wet shower," I said for all to hear. "What are you talking about?" M was dying to know, K couldn't figure it out, and Rochelle was sitting back with a contented smile on her face. "Well," I said, "He just told me about something that happened in the shower." M turned beet red and looked at K in alarm. "K?" she laughed (nervously?), "are you discussing intimate things with other people?!" K had his hands in the air, "No! I don't know what...oh, do you mean when I threw her in the shower?" and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. O.K. I admit it. I did act mysterious and word things in a provocative way. Am I evil? Soon afterwards Rochelle and I went to my room and she started talking about the love of her life, Adam. All I know about him is that he's 6'7", mediocre in appearance, and an excellent drummer. But after an hour of storytelling, she had to go to the bathroom. I was going to turn on some music and then I got this awful idea. I lit a candle, turned out the lights, found a classical music station and sprawled out in my flannel nightie on the bed. I was trying to muffle my giggles with a pillow and managed a straight face when Rochelle opened the door. It only took three words, "What the hell?" to burst out laughing. The look on her face was priceless.
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Dec. 20, 1993:
I have been home for a day. It's been a rather boring day. I read a book, rode the horse, and visited with Monica some, but nothing has changed and maybe I have. I kept pacing back and forth. Finally, I went for a walk. The old walnut grove. The dearest place in the world...I sang along with my walkman. I remembered running, hiding, skipping, and singing at the top of my lungs. Today I stopped, looked around to be sure no one was there, and laid on the leaves spread-eagle with my face to the sun. It was so beautiful there...I want to fall in love, ture love, and be swept off my feet. I want to know someone who makes me as happy as he is made by me. Who will hold me and love me, and strengthen the faith of God in me. There seems to be no hope. If I have not found even one man I can ever consider as my boyfriend, after 19 years, how can I expect to find someone now or later? Most people marry, and many are happy. Whether it be for love, money, or companionship, people find people they will marry. I could never marry for the sake of marrying and I could never deceive myself into falling in love if it wasn't just that. I am lonely, not desperate...Well, it is time for my evening tea.
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Jan. 3, 1993:
Picky, picky! M just lectured me about her handtowels--two of which are missing. I have no idea where they could be but I always put the towels in the closet after I launder them. "Well, no one else does the laundry," she said. Yeah, and no one else cleans the kitchen floor, scrubs counter-tops, vacuums, dusts, cleans bathrooms, empties the garbage, takes the diapers out, removes labels from baby feed jars, windexes the glass, bathes D, helps with dinner, and plays with someone else's child for 11 hurs everyday! No one else takes her to Gymboree, changes her diapers, dresses her, feeds her, puts her down for naps and encourages her to learn new things. Well yes, M and K do these things...I love D and I am happy to take care of her, but it infuriates me when I think of how I spend my energy everyday as a substitute parent and housemaid, am paid under minimum wage, and then reprimanded over two $5 J.C.Penny's hand towels. They are bound to turn up afterall! I don't fold the laundry outside!
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Jan 4, 1993:
Yes, I was too harsh yesterday. I shouldn't be making excuses for my irresponsibility. Bryan Adams is such a magnetic man. I am watching his music video "All for Love" and although his face is pitted and scarred, although he is not tall and dark, and in spite of his faded cornflower blue eyes, he holds my attention. (on and on about Bryan Adams)...I have been picking out a number of college guide books--looking for a good match both academically and socially. My interests include: Vanderbilt, Sweet Briar College, Hollins College, NW Univ., Notre Dame, Duke, Univ. of Dallas, Univ. of N.C.-Chapel Hill. There are others but these stand out--two are even women's colleges...
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Jan. 5, 1993:
...I still feel like writing. Maritza called me yesterday. She is out of the house. The Thebaults say that she didn't work "hard enough". I know that is untrue. All Maritza did was work! Cleaning a 10,000 sq. foot house, doing laundry, folding children's clothes and putting them away, babysitting, dog-sitting...They used her for everything. Cooking too. And then they put it on the company tab. Brian even told Maritza not to "call the office". He had her on the "company payroll working 8 hrs. a day." Ha! If only the IRS knew. Maritza worked for 12 hours from 7 a.m. to l7 p.m. exclusively for the Thebaults' personal interests. When I was working with Maritza she used to tell me how Lisa was always trying to get her to take a one hour break instead of two hours, when the two was what they'd agreed to from the start. So Maritza never gave in and they got into it more than once. Mariza told me about "The Big Conflict" more than once. Lisa told her she could only take one house and that she didn't want Maritza to leave "the grounds" for lbreak (as if it were a closed-campus!). Maritza had stood up for herself and reminded Lisa that from the start they had agreed to a two hur break and that as it was she worked 10 hours a day. Lisa steamed and Maritza has a temper, but things smoothed over and Maritza continued to take her two hour break.

Maritza and I would often discuss the children and she had confided in me that for nine years she and freddy had not used birth control and that she didn't even think she could have a baby. I told Lisa this and asked, "What would you do if Maritza became pregnant?" and to my surprise she blurted, "She'd be fired." Lisa continued, "I couldn't have a pregnant woman in my house." I told Maritza this and she had been nonchalant. "I told you so" was all she said. So guess who called a month ago! Maritza! And she's pregnatn! She told Brian and Lisa and her work got harder. She did more babysitting and was left wit hthe dog on her time off and then, 2-3 weeks later Lisa brings up the old "One hour break" bit. "I can't believe it," Maritza had said, "We agreed to be two hour break from the start and now you want to take it away from me?" Lisa said, "If you and freddy want to keep your jobs and the house, you will take a one hour break." Then Maritza blew up, "What?! Now that I'm pregnant I need my rest more than ever and you want to take it away from me? What do you want from me? All you think about is yourself. You don't care about me, do you?" Lisa did answer but was "smirking" as Maritza put it. (Maritza yelled) "YOU ARE SELFISH. You don't care about anyone. You don't care about me or my baby--you don't even care about your kids."
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The acting group or troupe or whatever was The Livingston Players in Livingston, NJ.
Jan. 6, 1993:
I didn't get the part. I tried out for "Vera" in "Ten Little Indians." The producer called and told me that the director had said he was extremely impressed with my acting talent--but who knows. Sounds like a "feel better" line. Someone else got the part afterall. I'm not discouraged from trying out again. Disappointed yes, but not discouraged from trying out again. The next play is "Annie." Oh joy. Who can I try out for there? An adult Annie?
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From a diary entry of Jan. 9, 1993:
Essay on Names
I like my name. It is unique and it also represents me well. But it also invariably leads to questions such as these: "What's your brother's name?" "What gave your mom the idea to name you that?" "Do you like it?" If there are not questions there is a response at least.
"Oh."
"What a pretty name!"
"How interesting."
Making matters worse, I used to sing the National Anthem for the State Football play-offs, for the community, school, and retirement centers. Many people thought it was a wonderful "stage" name. Any question about my name leads me into explaining the famliy history of odd names. "My brother's name is Levi," I say, noting mixed reactions.
"You mean like the jeans?/the prophet?"
"Yes," I say continuing, "My mom's name is Dicksie-Dael, yes, Dicksie-Dael, and then there's my Dad, Bob." I usually get appreciative laughs at this point. "My grandma Bairds real name used to be Beverly Constance but she changed it to Amythest Violet (we call her Granny). She likes purple." She named her kids Locklynn, Dicksie-Dael, Holly, and Loren. Locklynn's kids names are Valentine, Valentino, Valente, Alita, Gardenia, and Bubba."
"Bubba?! That's his real name?"
"Uh huh" I say with a certain amount of pride, "Bubba. Holly named her kids Armando, Andres, and Ivory."
"Whoa."
"I was lucky to be named Cameo," I raise my eyebrows for emphasis, "When I was born with red hair my parents were shocked. They had always imagined someone named "Cameo" would be blond. So they were deciding between Madonna Joy and Calico." This is usually the best part. "Madonna?!"
"Yeah, could you imagine my name being announced? And now, here is Madonna to sing the National Anthem! Or Calico! I would have been tortured in elementary school--here kitty, kitty! So I'm glad to have been named Cameo." After my listener has had a chance to ponder these things I add, "Actually, I like interesting names. It's true, I do! I want to name my daughters Katerina and the other, Kashmir."
"Like a sweater?" Most people are dubious. "What if you have a boy?"
"Well," I say, "I don't like many unusual names for boys so it will probably be normal. My mom likes "Cliff", and "Canyon" and "Rock". I've told my mother those names are out of the question." My listeners are usually entertained and I love storytelling. I never mention Grandpa Baird though. He didn't ask to be named that...Dick...People are usually very cruel about that name.

I wrote a stream of consciousness thing after this to brainstorm ideas for writing and then crossed it out (because it IS lofty and silly): Essay on me: I am Anne of Green Gables. I amm sitting in the dappled shade of a birch tree. Sometimes with a book, sometimes with paper and pen, always dreaming. I dream of those gathered around me when I am dying. I dream of a meadow surrounding a little stone cottage, I dream of the opera and bowing before thousands of adoring fans. I am Christopher Colombus...Things describing me or things I like: windsurfing, horses, persian kittens, indian paisley, flannel, herbal tea, mary englebrett, "of human bondage," chekov's "Misery", music, hiking, camping, frogs, field hockey, baroque florals, peach and green, baking, children. (some of these interests changed with time).
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Jan. 10, 1993:
...Anitra kissed WILL! Actually, Will attacked her. He must have overactive hormones. I'm curious about Will, he always said I reminded him of "Lucy" from "I Love Lucy". ...
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Feb. 1, 1994: