Journal, January 1, 1976 AM

Today I officially begin this journal, so you might know I am having trouble deciding what to write. The idea of keeping this thing going doesn’t strike me as too important today! So on with the chore.

The New Year’s party Jaime, Ed Stoll and I set up was pretty decent. Everybody drank and danced some, there were no evident personality clashes, and no one fell, jumped or was pushed into the pool. I am always mystified at how one measures the success of such an event, but as the classic saying goes: Everyone seemed to be having a good time! We had two full bottles of booze left, & only one party vomited on the grounds, while the bocas {snacks} were demolished, so you could classify it as a nice friendly family affair.

<So what about Sofia?> All day I thought this could be a crucial night for us. I wanted, in some way I can’t fully define, to be sure of her, to give me the will power I’ll need to keep from letting the relationship slide while we’re apart. Expecting too much, as usual, I was a little bit let down. She was the one last night who seemed to keep coming back to the idea that we should tell each other if we find another, better novio/novia {boy or girl friend}. I finally told her we should forget about that possibility. She’s getting as bad as me about stressing the doubts instead of concentrating on the present relationship! She up and told me at the height of the party – just before midnight – that she felt kind of tired and bored. Now that is a tough sign to read, ‘cause I usually feel tired & bored at drinking parties, but would never tell anyone that because they would think me even more of a bookworm and anti-social person than they already do. Was she being brutally honest, just with me, or trying to tell me indirectly that I, personally, am boring to be with? I got her to dance a bit later on, and the heavy talk was shoved into the background.

<Sofia met Doña Carmen, & it was a cordial, almost friendly encounter.> (I will wait for Carmen’s reaction today.) <I took a few photos of Sofia and her family, and one of all of Doña Carmen’s brood who were there, including Rita and Dennis. Sofia and two of her sisters dedicated themselves, for quite a time, to seeing that Dennis had some fun because he was sitting alone a lot, looking deep in thought to me, but only triste {sad} to them!> Dennis has that solitary (soledad? {Spanish for solitary}) look about him that reminds me of how Tom Hamilton (in Steinbeck’s “East of Eden”) would have looked in real life. He may be trying to decide to be great or let it go and just be human as Tom was. Doña Carmen thinks it’s money and girl troubles, but I can’t buy it. He reads poetry too, so that gives him another link with Tom Hamilton. Hope he doesn’t ride off on horseback and shoot himself!

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