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  December 25, 2002


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Wednesday, December 25, 2002

Existentialist Nausea

Christmas day and Iím in Glendale California staying with Catherineís mom along with Jane, Catherineís sister. Grace, Catherineís mom, suffered a blood clot in her leg a few weeks ago and the kids have temporarily moved back in to help get her on her feet. We usually spend Christmas in Glendale so this visit isn't out of the ordinary.

Itís not real exciting for me though, if I were at home, Iíd just be sitting around.  I might as well do that up here. The people are definitely nice and I have no complaints. I brought all my town hall homework so I have plenty to do.

My problem right now is a lack of passion or, put more dramatically, Iím having a crisis of enthusiasm. This isn't unfamiliar territory for me since Iím predisposed to depression and have been dealing with it my entire life. Frankly, I know the routine and these days I find the whole subject kind of boring. Iíve seen the doctors; been prescribed the medication, and now I just wait for the melancholia to run its course. Itís kind of like waiting for a head cold to clear up and go away. I just want to get over it and not infect anyone else while Iím waiting.

One common sense therapy for depression is to try to remain active, even if youíre just pretending to have a good time. Sounds kind of silly but it works for me so Iíll be spending the next few days in Glendale doing some site seeing and maybe taking in a movie. The last movie I watched was ďAmerican BeautyĒ so this time I think Iíll go for something a little more upbeat. Maybe Iíll rent ďSophieís ChoiceĒ. Ok, ok, maybe the new Star Trek movie. ;-)



August 24, 1966 Wednesday

Thereís still nothing much going on around here. Iíve just been spending time doing the usual summer activities. I feel I must write something or else when I look back over my notes Iíll find just an empty spot.

Bill Guzman, Pat and I slept out in the backyard of the vacant house again. I made a mistake by saying slept out because we spent the whole night talking. At 4:30 in the morning we walked along the beach and we were on our way home when a policeman stopped us and started giving the routine speech about curfew. We simply told him we had slept out and went for a walk. I donít think he believed us but anyway he let us go with a warning.

This Saturday Noel Broadbent and I are planning on a campout somewhere in the mountains. Itís not definite so Iíd better wait and see how it comes out. Iíve been dieing for a chance to get out of Coronado so I hope this comes through.

I donít think Iíve described Bill Guzman and Iíd better because heís one of my most unusual friends.

I met Bill in religion class and my first impression was that he was a real nice guy. Iím afraid as I got to know him better my impression of him has dwindled. He lived in Japan (ugh) for 7 years and this really ruined his personality. Heís the type of guy who, when he meets a friend on the street heíll say ďhiĒ and then as he walks on heíll whisper under his breath that that person is a stupid bitch. Bill is very critical. He seems to dislike every thing and everybody. As for his physical appearance, heís about 5í8í, the same as me, only heís kind of chubby. Not fat but when he takes his shirt off you can tell he doesnít do much exercise. Heís very weak, he proved that at the beach when he almost drowned. Heís an average student but heís no real brain. It sometimes amuses me when heís telling me how stupid someone else is. I wonder how a person thatís a wreck like him can cut someone else down. In all Iíll sum him up. Heís a friend that I donít like.

Iíve got to stop now because Kirk and I are going to the movies. (Lt. Robin Crusoe)

P.S. I think you can tell by my terrible penmanship and spelling that I need more practice. Iíve gotten kind of lazy during the summer but I plan to write more so I should improve.

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