Journals : 1987
Introduction:
Not much to say, except that more people on this page still talk to me via e-mail than on any other page. That, and this is the year that the Fox network was born.
Editorial comments are in grey.
SOME NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED.
The Soundtrack:
Sonic Youth, REM, Flaming Lips, World Party, Anti-Seen, Skinny Puppy, Ministry, Love and Rockets, Cult, Alien Sex Fiend, Concrete Blond.
8 January 1987:
There's something to the belief that it takes knowing people to get to know other people...I'm completely alone in Charlotte...Greensboro isn't home anymore; I'm a guest. But I don't really belong here yet either...These skate rats...TJ, a street hustler if ever I've met one. His life is sex and I'm sure almost anyone could make him, myself included, but at what cost...As we rode in my car, and he sat there giving me intimate details about his dick and his girlfriend...He moaned about having done everything and being bored...Invitation?...I need to pick on someone my own size, I guess.
21 January 1987:
Some of the skate rats are okay, particularly this one named William, who's driving me crazy. He's been much too attentive...He turns 18 soon, and is gorgeous in a way only Jeff or I could appreciate. He likes me. He calls me and comes to see me and just pays too much attention.
3 February 1987:
William...always managing to come by when I'm at the store alone...It's starting to be really obvious that he wants something to happen. I just can't seem to get him off my mind...Art called Monday night...he started getting heavy...I'd still love to have him all to myself somewhere, but we're too different to ever be anything but good friends. And the sexual tension makes even that hard.
17 February 1987:
Somehow my life is being changed by the irony of hanging and displaying shorts while I look outside at the ice-covered parking lot...I was determined to get to work one way or another just because if I'd spent one more minute in my house (after 40 straight hours) I'd go out of my ever-loving and less-clear-by-the-minute mind. seeing Journey on MTV again would've been the end...
I haven't heard from William again since last Wednesday...if he mentions the bisexual guy at Garinger high School one more time...As of Christmas, I'm back on friendly terms with Carroll.
24 February 1987:
And of course Jeff is not coming down this weekend. He hasn't called to cancel yet, but I'm sure he hasn't given visiting another thought since he mentioned the possibility last week after canceling his Dead Boys visit.
12 March 1987:
I'm buying a car. A new one at that...I got totaled...Suddenly a car was coming out of an apartment complex on Central Avenue. And headed for me. I swerved and hit my horn, but to no avail...Clara's career was over, for all practical purposes...She still ran, but on a 30 degree rainy night, the drive home was a tad chilly.
25 March 1987:
Letter from Art: "You must, however, plan to come up another time also, so that I can spend more time with you alone. Both will be fun...Well, it's getting late and my mind is wandering (and always wondering)."
1 April 1987:
William came back...It was a runaway trip...He still talks about our planned birthday bash (10 August: his birthday and mine, "just you and me and the keg", he says)...I forgot to mention that Sam quit. Fucked me over. Gave a one-week notice and didn't show up for his final weekend.
26 April 1987:
About three weeks ago, I has a conversation with a boy in a Jesus and Mary Chain t-shirt...I did keep his name on file. Steve...He's definitely one of the most interesting people I've met since my arrival in Charlotte...And of course, my apartment did lose its virginity to him...He's self-destructive...He seems to have no real ambition in life..Never seems particularly happy or peaceful...A very defeatist attitude about life. Nothing goes right for him. It's easy to see he believes this...I sensed that our whole romantic encounter was somewhat of an accident...We're to remain friends. I'm glad to know the sexual thing is already out of the way...I will be in California within two years. I'm working on winning a million dollars from McDonald's right now to finance my trip. (Steve and I remain friends, and he became one of the two people who put me up upon my move to San Francisco in 1992...)
5 May 1987:
Letter from Jeff: "I saw 'Sid and Nancy' last night...I hope I never do so much dope that...I can be stabbed and bleed all night before realizing I'm pretty damn dead."
26 May 1987:
Thursday trip to the Pterodactyl. I ran into Tim's friend Lori (Chad's roommate at the beach last summer) who lives here now. She was leaving, so she introduced me to the crowd she was with -- an interesting bunch indeed -- and told me to stick with them. having nothing better to do, I did...Margo...the inevitable occurred and she thought I was trying to pick her up. Lyn and Joel, the married couple and we all went over to their house after the bar...The crowd invited me to a party at the home of (get this) Michael from UNCG...Eventually, it turns out everyone I've ever known knows everyone else...Lyn came by my store Friday...Among other things, she's a witch... (And we're still in touch via e-mail. Ditto for Lori and Brad and Michael...)
The party: Michael, Brad, Lori, Lyn, Joel, Margo, and two brothers: Drew (18) and Joseph (not 18)...We went to the graveyard in Fourth ward. We hung around the house getting into various groupings at different times. Joseph and I grew progressively friendlier as the night went on...Things, shall we say, happened...Twice...
9 June 1987:
New part-timer in the store, Dawn...I warned her about saying "fags" lest she offend someone. Turns out she hangs out in gay bars...even used to go to Winston back when I did...Had my first "party" Saturday. All of three guests...Interesting evening, more of a "non-event" as I called it...I did finally tell Lyn about my fling with Joseph. She wasn't overly appalled. She said everyone had suspected, but had decided that nothing happened. (Dawn went on to become a webmaster in Charlotte...)
15 July 1987:
Why does Art do this to me?...2:30AM phone call...He said he wouldn't mind staying at home with me on a Saturday night, because...That's it. No explanation. He couldn't find a "polite way to say it", something about his state lately. He didn't want to say anything he "might regret later"...I am going up to see him this weekend.
28 August 1987:
I've finally reached one of those moments: I know that I really live in Charlotte. Life has gotten normal -- I go visit friends, they come see me, and when I go out, I always know someone...Duncan's living in Charlotte now -- in my living room...William appears to be gone. Our birthday plans got screwed.
3 September 1987:
Margo left for Boston about five minutes ago, I think. We had our farewells last night with Lyn. I'm going to miss her...but maybe I'll get to hit Boston when I go on vacation...Duncan is still staying with me...Now the bad news. My apartment was broken into on Tuesday. Got my VCR, lots of clothes -- primarily pants and (get this) socks. Insurance? What insurance?...The store got hit two weeks ago too.
8 October 1987:
Life is getting frustrating again. I hate my job even worse than I did before I left for vacation...I want to go back to Greensboro.
8 November 1987:
Plej's offered me a job as manager of their store in Winston Salem. I think I'm going to turn it down. The more I think of working for them, the less I like the idea. And the more I think of living in Winston, the less I like of that idea...Duncan's leaving. He got a job in High Point at Channel 8; I'll probably sort of miss him...but both of us living in a one-bedroom apartment for almost three months was not a wise move...
9 November 1987:
Lack of self-confidence. Face it, I spent most of my life being an outsider...I've always felt like I was trapped, slightly outside the real world. In a group, I always get the feeling there's a private joke I haven't heard. And it's probably about me...I just can't seem to be a part of any situation. I watch. I'm not in the middle of things. I keep knocking at the door but I can't get in...I'm probably more well-adjusted than I was at 13, but I probably worry about it more now...
I never get around to making that first phone call to that new acquaintance, and I sit at home -- and in public -- by myself so much and place so much importance on this fact. to do things any differently would require being an active participant in life. And we can't have that, now can we?
17 November 1987:
Fall has arrived, and I'm getting stranger and stranger again as I prepare for another winter alone.
5 December 1987:
Home alone on Saturday night. Supposed to go to a party but I couldn't find it. It's the curse of the generic Charlotte yuppie apartment complexes. Where the fuck is Kimmerly Glen? I know I've seen it.
7 December 1987:
William sitting across from me in the living room...he ran away to my house this time...This week of frustration and vague games has taken its toll...I know better than to expect too much...but William sends a sexual current through my body like no one has in a long time. I'm not sure what it is about him. He just screams sex to me.
31 December 1987:
A few stray memories from 1987: Forty-eight hours of no sleep visiting Myrtle Beach..."I've never done this with a man before"...two redneck boys in a Camaro on I-85 near Concord..."Surf-n-Taco"...