June 23rd, 1993

Today you come back and I shall call you. I have missed you immensely. There are many things that we did that I wish you could have been here for and enjoyed with me.

Six pages I have written to you. Should I give them to you, or keep them? I will give them to you if you want them, otherwise I would probably throw them out.

This is all for now.

Love Daniel

My B-day is July 19th

June 16th, 1993

Today, I did nothing. Last night, though, I watched “What’s up Tiger Lily”. It was a Japanese film that was redubbed by Wood Allen. Over all it was funny, but it had a few questionable parts (nudity). Oh well.

Tonight we went to “The Old Spaghetti Factory” down in Newport Beach for dinner. It was really good food. I had baked chicken. Hmm, events are going slow. Tomorrow we move to our new house. It’s only a little farther than where we live now.

I applied for FJC yesterday. It is an OK looking place, I suppose. They will send me my registration packet in a week or so. I bought a class description book, but someone pinched it while I was there. $0.75 down the drain. What am I going to do?

It is late already. I think I shall retire for the rest of the evening. I just realized how much I have written. Lots. I hope you don’t mind too much.

Love you do.

June 15th, 1993 (cont.)

Life is so much slower when you are away,
Mom says Hi
and hardly noticeable when you are here. Hmm.

I never knew time was relative to thee, Beloved. That reminds me of an Emily Dickinson poem:

Distance – is not the Realm of fox
Nor by relay of Bird
Abated – Distance is
Until thyself, beloved.

Actually, that is from a book of E. D. that Martha gave me once, before her “Beloved” became “Udo”, the German. Oh well. I shall write her, I think, and tell her of our marriage plans.

June 15th, 1993

I missed a day because my mom told me “We will go out and find you a job today.” I don’t have a job, but I have applied at Albertsons, Target, and Mervyns. If I had my choice, I think I would pick Mervyns. We were out all day doing that yesterday.

Last night we went to some old friends house and ate and visited until nearly 11:00pm. A guy there named Dwight, who is my age and I used to play with often, has a Goldwing motorcycle. The kind that you travel cross-country on. It is really nice. We went for a ride but his speedometer does not go beyond 80mph so I can’t brag about a top speed. Dwight is traversing the US on it. It would be perfect for Europe.

I have been reading the Herbalist book and it has a lot of neat things in it. I only wish I could find all the herbs.

June 13th, 1993 (cont. 2)

Howard’s End is coming along nicely, it has more dialog and more details. I can’t help thinking of Scott, when I see his name in the inside (aren’t I profound?). I feel bad for him, he is ‘kalooy’. I wish I had better memories of him. He is… I don’t know. When I think of the gift he gave you it gives me this feeling, as if he deserves you more, or is more worthy, or perhaps loves you more. I don’t know why I get this feeling. He is so nice, and it is apparent that he cares a lot about you. Maybe he just shows it in different ways. Am I deficient in the area of affection? Oops! This is getting too important for writing. I need to lighten up. This is enough for one day.

I luv you (I will have written it many times, I think, by the end of the week)

June 13th, 1993 (cont.)

My mom is trying to get J to say something to C about his teeth, but J thinks that Mom should talk to C’s mom instead. I think C should just brush his teeth more thoroughly and more often. J says it doesn’t bother her, and only hopes it isn’t contagious. Mom thinks it might be. I’ll watch and see…

Actually, if it was, she would have it by now.

June 13th, 1993

Dear B-girl

I suspect that you are either in Chicago now, or nearing it. I just had this impulse to write you, just because. I just felt like it. I do miss you already like I always do when you are not where I can see, hear, feel, and smell you. Hmmm. Well I miss you terribly and don’t don’t know what I will do for the week besides read Howard’s End, which I have already started. I finished Harvester. It had an ending. I will not expound because I want you to read it. The guy in it is rather mushy. I like what he does but his personality is too much like that of the stereo-typed romance protagonist: strong, passionate, handsome, commanding, patient, unbearably gentle despite his “uncommonly” large muscles and body, at peace with all nature, never-been-sick-in-his-life, protective, unselfish, all-knowing, and, of course, stubborn (like me!). At least I have one of those attributes of God. Maybe when I grow up I will acquire the others, then I can be someone’s Prince Charmin’

Dinner time more later, alligator.

We had quesadillas, Mmmmm.

What do I say now? Do I woo you with passages of amorous poetry? Compare thee to a summer’s day? Flatter you on your beauty? Describe the extent of my love, or the lack of specific boundaries, seeing as it knows none? Now, now, those I would rather say in person, or not at all, I think.

June 1st, 1993

Dear Bethany,

Well, I have been here for a little under four days now and I don’t really like it at all. I wish that you were already here. I will list the things that are bugging me today:

  • My mom won’t let me drive
  • I don’t have anywhere to live
  • I don’t have a promised moped
  • I can’t find a job because I don’t know where I am going to live
  • College is far away
  • No friends live close by
  • you still won’t be here for a week
  • My grandparents house is very boring
  • I am getting cabin fever
  • My cousins have school until the 17th
  • I only have $13
  • My GPA is 2.937, not 3.000
  • It’s cold
  • I miss you terribly

It just isn’t the same having hardships without you. They are harder. I feel like it doesn’t really matter as long as you are around. At least I will be able to call you in Chicago, and write. Right now I can hardly do either.

There are a few possibilities for living situations: I could rent a room in N8’s house, I could room with J. Pridmore, closer to FJC, or Dave, N8 and I could rent our own place, or I could live with Mom and Dad, which, in my mind is not an option.

My mom tends to think that somone needs to teach me how to drive here. When I told her that I had learned to drive virtually on my own, she insisted that she had sat in the car and coached me several times. I think that I would remember. I would not say so if it was not true. I have done the book-work for US Drivers Ed., I know the rules. This is starting to feel the same way it did when I was here before.

I hate living in someone else’s house.

I am sorry. I am formulating a bad attitude. I only wish you were here.

Weren’t I a stinker 13.5 years ago?