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What else. Neil called last night and said that I put him uptight and he really wanted things to be natural and flow. I said why didn’t he come to dinner tomorrow? He said he had to go to San Francisco, and I said, how about Friday, and he said [he would] if he could. He said, what was I doing tonight? And I said I had an appt with Marshall Lumsden, but afterward I would be hungry, so why didn’t he take me out for dinner. And he said he’d call me back at 8 but that I really put him uptight. I said, “What do you expect from a 26-year-old Hollywood spinster?” (which is how I feel around him), and I said, “I’ll give you one more chance” (very flippant). He didn’t call back, so there you are.
Let’s see. What else? I’ve been practicing how to make the perfect omelet. They really taste fantastic with jack cheese surrounded by mandarin oranges. Oh, it’s so good.
I’m reading Julian by Vidal. I read Passage to India by E. M. Forster, which I loved, and Burmese Days by Orwell which I liked. I read Esprit de Corps by Lawrence Durrell and a strange book by Niccolò Tucci called Unfinished Funeral which was more depressing than Burmese Days. Also Snow White.
this is fun actually. good eve diary inspo [funny that they have the same name and age]
Well, I’m so broke I’m overdrawn at the bank and it makes me very nervous, especially since I don’t know when the check from the P. G. & E. [cover] is coming in, and I’m just really broke.
This weekend I gained 3 pounds. Friday was Daddy’s birthday so I ate Chinese chicken and cake. Joe Pailburn came to perk me up and, oh, and he kissed my feet. I nearly died.
I saw Neil on Thursday and fell for another of those 15-minute things, so I figured it would be best to get the fuck out of the house for a spell.
I am pretty tired from all the society and haven’t had a chance to read anything. This week I’m staying home and trying to figure out good ideas for collages.
fun
Well—I’m already 132 lbs, which is very encouraging since I practically starved and exercised all day yesterday and nearly drove myself nuts. However, it seems to be paying off as starving inevitably will.
lolll
Danny O’Keefe really likes me. He has been over a lot of times, but he is so involved in tantric yoga that I feel he’s a fool. I can’t help thinking people who believe in Oriental magic are fools—it’s so boring and unsensual. I must be a confirmed sensualist because anything that pleases me on a grab-it-and-eat-it level just makes me completely happy. But if you have to exhibit any form of faith at all, I lose interest and start looking at the clock.
ha fair
So Joe came over after the show. We talked, smoked, drank, drank, drank, smoked, and it was bigger than both of us. Joe, being from a liberal family from Berkeley and an arch radical, suffered from typical Catholic schoolboy pangs of guilt, and had some superstition in his mind that if he didn’t actually “sleep” with me, it was not so bad. So he slept on the couch, awaking me in the morning with more caresses, and then saying, “How can you do this and say you’re a friend of Robin’s? Poor Robin, sitting at home with the kid!”
By this time I was laughing my head off it was so hilarious, and asked him if he knew Michael Lydon, whom I didn’t want to discover our adventure. He said not personally but that Michael’s former old lady was living with him and Robin since apparently some “other woman” groupie slicky had [lured] him away. When I told him I was that [groupie slicky], he held his head in his hands and moaned. I explained to him that these things happen, especially with nice people, since they’re bound to know and like each other. That wasn’t much solace, and he begged me not to come to San Francisco for a while and please never to let either Robin or Michael get wind of l’affaire extraordinaire.
omg lol how did i miss this the first time
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This giving-up-smoking stuff is really fantastic. I can do everything except make a collage, go to the Troubadour, and lose weight. Although today I’ve decided not to eat anything outrageous, at least till I get back to 130 lbs. Trying to hold yourself together when you’re falling apart all over the place is extraordinarily weird, and most of the time, I feel like I’m about to topple over or faint. My mother says this feeling only lasts for 4 days. Since my mother, [my aunt] Tiby, and Carol gave up [smoking], I figure I can stop too. Before that, the only people I knew who stopped were men. All I’m going to smoke are joints and hash. I won’t have to lug a big purse with me—I can use my little beaded purses. At any rate—I have the feeling I’ll never smoke again. I hate the idea of going to a doctor and having him tell me I’ve got lung cancer. But my favorite thing is that it’s such a novelty to deny myself something. The discipline is really marvelous. Discipline is really great—I love it.
<3
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