[It’s July 1st, 2003, and I’m filling in my history. I have a journal, which was apparently a going-away-to-college gift, and the first entries in it, after all the “planning list” sort of entries are written in Tengwar. So I started translating them. As near as I can tell (since I was apparently using some odd numbering scheme), they date to late January/early February 1984. To my great disappointment, they are entirely devoted to gushing over this guy I was obsessed with and go something like this:]
[The guy of the moment] is a very nice man; beautiful eyes, a sweet smile [or possibly smell; Tengwar is phonetic and I wasn’t very good at it], quite a likeable fellow. I wish I had some way of getting in touch with [him]. I want to learn more about him.
Why are all the good ones taken? Here I am in love again. Damn him! I bet he even has nice legs! Sweet sexy men like him are hard to come by! It’s not fair! [Guy of the moment], why do you have to be taken?
[And then it gets really schmaltzy and I can’t stand writing it down to haunt me further. Suffice to say I was an absolute mooncalf over this guy who had a girlfriend. In my memory, knowing how things turned out, I have painted him as the instigator who led me along, said things were on the rocks with her, snuck around with me behind her back and then cut things off coldly. Now I have to wonder if I wasn’t self-centered, sexy and obsessed and managed to manipulate him into fooling around. Ugh.]