A D Journal 1986

   Happy New Years! It’s been three years exactly since I last said these words to Fran. The events of that day should have warned me what to expect for the upcoming year, and the relationship to come. My relationship with Fran began a month and half earlier in late 1982 when I first started seeing her seriously. I met her while working at the Clifton Fotomat on a Saturday and arranged to take a walk with her in a park early the next morning. It started as a walk and ended up later in my bed with Pauly waiting elsewhere annoyed for me to drive him to practice with the band. He lived in Towaco at the time. That same day, Michael and his girlfriend, Linda, were having a poetry reading at a local club. Fran and I showed up late. If I believe in omens, then I might have taken an event later in November when a neighbor pounded on my door while Fran and I were making love, yelling that someone had just hit my car. It was a drunk without insurance, resulting in my c...

    I dreamed they tore my old house down That constantly changing thing on the hill Where I grew up, then again, just about, But there it was an empty lot of landfill Covered with the dark, black of asphalt, I was in tears even though I hated that place Sitting on the corner to figure out whose fault It was that caused me to want to erase That bit of history contained in that old site The house that sat there, so loud at times Yet at other times so quiet and still despite The rumbling of traffic rising with sunshine To die later with the pink glow and rising dark Maybe they just a space for those trucks to park   I always come back here to look at the old house on the hill because part of me still haunts it. Some places just don’t leave you even when you leave it, and this is one of them for me – as I’m sure the cold water flat I live in now will strike me the same way later. Too many things happened here – the way huge historic events s...

    So, who should show up last night at work? Joanne again, dismal, curious Joanne looking for comfort in that wondrous way of hers. She returned like a stranger, someone once utterly in love with the mall, but now divorced from it and aching for the old feelings she used to have for it, calling from the bagel shop for permission to see me, so she can slip passed guards whom she believed wanted to keep her out. “That’s silly,” I told her over the phone. We could almost see each other across the dark hall. Not so silly, she told me, since management has warned all the night guards against her, making her one of the most disliked people in the mall. She is a liar. She even lied to me last night about Phil and her other job, still trying to sound more important than she really is. It is hugely important for her to be someone. She is a thief, too, though not nearly as bad as many of the others who used to work here. She steals little things, like people’s souls, att...

   Secaucus again, and wet with a wonderful winter rainstorm. How much more romantic can you get? Sitting here filling out forms for yet another grand insurance plan, I realize all the strange times I’ve had in this amazing institution. This month marks my four year on and off since I finally admitted to myself that I was not yet ready for the big time as a creative writing. That new years (1982) I resigned from Dunkin Donuts (leaving Phil) to make my living as a writer. What a bleeping joke! Two months later I was crawling into the Rutherford store to be interviewed by Bonnie, recommended by Michael Alexander and his girlfriend, Linda. I was looking for the perfect job that would allow me to study as I worked. But the pattern for self-destruction was already set and I pulled out of school for the semester overwhelmed again by trying to make a living while studying – training came as precisely the wrong time in my college schedule and so I was confounded by film...

  This is my daily journal from 1986. It includes letters and other communication, as well as reflections of past years. There is some overlap with a non-fiction novel about Peggy Yacyniak, which is more from 1987, and is included elsewhere as well. Hindsight Jan. 1, 1986 1983 was a very bad year? Jan. 2, 1986 And then there was Bill Jan. 3, 1986 Chaos again Jan. 4, 1986 Looking back at 1982 Jan. 5, 1986 Last days with Suzanne 1981 Jan. 6, 1986 A different man in 1980 Jan. 7, 1986 1979 a year of significant change Jan. 8, 1986 Two women named Michele Jan. 9, 1986 More about the other Michele Jan. 10, 1986 College isn’t the same as it was Jan. 13, 1986 Bureaucracy anyone? Jan. 14, 1986 Trying to impress me Jan. 15, 1986 Ships that pass in the night Jan. 18, 1986 A year of transition 1977 January 19, 1986 It was a very good year 1976 January 20, 1986 The disasters of 1975 Jan. 21, 1986 Change in the air in 1974 Jan. 22, 1986 Still bleeding Jan. 23, 1986 Michael is no archangel Jan....