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A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Late September, 1983

Leaving the theater alone and driving down Biscayne Boulevard, I felt the way I used to back in the days when I dated Ronna in college and we’d go to movies on Saturday nights. I wished I had someone with me – even just an acquaintance – to go out for coffee with. Although it was late, I didn’t feel like sleeping.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Mid-September, 1983

I told Dr, Grasso that the University of Miami did not work out and also said I didn’t realize how good BCC was until I left. The state mandated that all comp classes be fewer than 21 students, so she’s been forced to add on 12 sections as of Monday. “You’re hired,” she told me, and I felt ecstatic.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Early September, 1983

I’ve been assigned to be some professor’s research assistant. One TA told me he often expects sexual favors from male RA’s. Not from this one, he doesn’t! The woman who told me this is so stupid that when I mentioned that I was gay, she replied, “Oh, then you shouldn’t mind at all.” Is everyone at the University of Miami crazy?

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Late August, 1983

Today I began my career as a graduate teaching assistant at the University of Miami. The loss of status is a bit jarring. When I arrived at the meeting, the composition program director, Kathy Bell, mistook me for the janitor and started telling me to clean up the room before I explained who I was.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Late July, 1983

I was finally falling asleep around 1 AM when the phone rang. “Hello?” I said, trying not to sound incoherent. A raspy whisper: “I…want…to blow…you…” Deciding this was no one of my acquaintance, I said, “Yeah, well, we all want something,” hung up, and pulled the plug out.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Early July, 1983

I’ve just been outside by the pool, marking papers through great force of effort. That redheaded guy was in the pool with (I assume) his girlfriend, and they were surprisingly friendly, telling me to jump in. I said I had too much work to do, and he said, “It’s Saturday night!”

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