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A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Early November, 1982

The class seemed quiet until Benett and his friends started shrieking “Gay power!” and other chants I couldn’t make out. I went on with the punctuation lesson except for a comment about Tourette’s syndrome victims; Robbie caught my eye and smiled. Later, I told him I’d see him in the play he’s acting in.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Late October, 1982

I was asking students to give me an adjective, and after two girls said “little” and “short,” I laughed and said, “You’re looking at me.” I heard Benett say, “Then they would have said faggot.” “That’s a noun,” I told him. “And here’s another noun for you: asshole.” He and a couple of his friends walked out of class.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Early October, 1982

I heard those three goons in the back of the class call another kid (not to his face) “the fag”; they’ve also made anti-Semitic remarks. Today they guffawed throughout the class. Of course, it didn’t bother me that much because I’m going to have the last laugh. And so will the gay kid, Robbie, an outgoing, smart theater major.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Late September, 1982

Cuomo headquarters on primary night was an incredibly happy and surprised scene. Maria Cuomo reminded Teresa of her promise to quit her job to work for her father if he won this primary, and Teresa plans to live up to it. Now that she’s had her revenge, Teresa’s hostility toward Koch is gone.

A Young Writer’s Diary Entries From Early September, 1982

I’ve just come out of the shower after returning from the health club. My lenses are in the machine. I’m naked, lying on fresh sheets, Brahms is on the radio, and I feel surprisingly good. Workouts make me feel better mentally even if I’m not developing gorgeous peaks on my biceps or huge pecs.

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